Cusco

We made it to Cusco safely but sorely after the lovely Peruvian bus company failed to inform us that the “18 hour” prediction on the ticket was more like a 23 hour excursion in freezing conditions and switchback roads that woke you up to the sound of screeching metal every time you were just about to doze off. Maybe it was the fault of the bus attendant serving our food who admitted to smoking marijuana in the cockpit three times during the drive…? Least to say, we didn’t get much sleep but I finished my book, made a good start on my blanket I’m making, and met a nice girl from Florida.

Cusco is a brighten-your-day sight as you roll in, seeing the mountainside lit up by all the colors of the rainbow painted on the houses – just as any other Latin American proud city would be; it reminds me of flying in over Mexico City.

The city is very old and beautifully built, mixing the remains of the ancient civilizations that inhabited it with the European influences of brick roads, breathtaking churches, and narrow streets filled with cafes. It is also a tourist-packed city with people of all ages and nationalities being swarmed by the many street vendors offering the best package for this or that adventurous tour of the Incan ruins. We have a wonderful hotel in the town center, properly equipped with 4 blankets on each bed (to save us from the bitter cold in the evenings) and an endless supply of Coca Tea, made from the coca leaves of the region (to help with altitude woes!)

Overwhelmed with the opportunities abounding me here, I was glad to have the friendly Floridan allow me to tag along her hike to the city of Pisaq, a site of more Incan ruins (they are everywhere!) in what they call El Valle Sagrado, the Sacred Valley – a region of geographical and climatic benefits for the Incans, stretching throughout the length of the Sacred River. We took a short bus packed to the full with native Peruvians of descent I haven’t witnessed yet in the North – the traditional woman you see on the cover of National Geographic with her colorful skirt, long, dark braids, and a top hat to top it off. They all carry unbelievable loads of .. I don’t know what over their shoulder by a blanket tied to double as a satchel bag, and they have the most beautiful wrinkles and white teeth of anyone I’ve seen. On departing the bus, we were pleased to find the first thing we notice in this small Peruvian town in the Andes mountains is a coffee shop – a coffee shop owned by 5 traveling hippies from Argentina, Brazil, and Bolivia with long dreadlocks and a wonderful taste for making empanadas, a favorite breakfast substitute here. We chatted, drank the traditional coca tea, and made a friend named Junior from Brazil to accompany us on the hike.

Unfortunately, I got the Battery Blues and my camera went dead about 10 minutes after we commenced the hike. And, as always, the sights are indescribable. We didn’t want to be “touristy”, so Junior sort of formed our own path up the side of the mountain, through the business of some workers building a retaining wall, and literally straight up about a half mile of stairs from the old Incan city. Not too mention that I’m probably not the strongest person alive, but the mountain air requires about four breaths for every one I should need – I was tiiiired. Junior just laughed and strolled easefully up the stairs, whistling Brazilian tunes all the way. At the top, it was relaxing and beautiful, including the murmur of over 15 languages around me. The mountains were different than the Andes of Ecuador – much more inhabited and much less green, but anyone could see why the Sacred Valley was so sacred. As for the structure of the ancient city, one has to wonder how arrogant the Spaniards must have been in their assumption that these “barbarians of the New World” needed their help – canals, stairwells, rooms of all uses, and perfectly square stones placed in perfectly straight patterns obviate the intelligence of the Incas.

I hurried back to meet Michael and we rushed off to by some tickets for Macchu Picchu – an endeavor in which we failed. We are going to have to end up paying about $300 for the both of us to enter unless we can figure out a way to cheat the system (and don’t doubt us..) Also, there’s no seats until Friday so it looks like we’ll be spending a few more days here, which I don’t mind at all. We spent the evening in a packed Irish pub, the only place in town (maybe the country) with Guinness beer and good company from fellow travelers. Today, off to discover all the historically elegant legends and levels of Incan and Spanish history.