A short aside from the Peru trip - fictional-? Not Really

When the fields came into view, he remembered.

Even though he had never been in this place before, yet, still he remembered.

The bus, gears grinding, clawed its way uphill, its wheels spewing out loose stones behind like a contrail as the driver fought for traction.

  Below, several hundred feet below, the fields, barely stamps. green postage stamps, shone in the sun, almost fluorescent, contrasting against the puke yellow background of parched corn and barley stalks as the bus climbed ever higher above the Andean plain.

  It was then that it came back to him, the memory that he had choked back, buried, alluded to, occasionally, but never quite divulged as real.

 The coffee splashed over his hand, hot, uncomfortable, not really a burn. More an annoyance as the plane took its first hard bounce and dropped a bare hundred feet or so.

 The crackle of the P.A.  “This is your Ca......” was eclipsed at first by panicked gasps from fellow passengers, then by his own expletives as the coffee splashed off the ceiling, into his face, onto his shirt as he felt his stomach and his seat plummet several hundred feet in  seconds. Belted in, his pain was uncomfortable, tolerable, actually minimal, compared to the slap and slam of other passengers, unbelted and floating/ bouncing into the bulkheads in pain, panic and possibly self destruction.

 Suddenly the walls of the plane melted into translucency and then transparency as the approaching ground could be seen,  a living window on the ever widening fields as they rushed up to meet the silver belly of the falling plane.

 Faster, ever faster he fell, the force of the drop straining at his waist and hips, the pain expanding as the blood seemed to rush to his eyes, his mouth a silent scream and then…….

 He awoke, sweat soaked and petrified. The bed was all that stood between him and terra firma. The clock, the only light source in the darkened room signaled 3am. He sat up, stepped to the floor and paced, looking out of the window at a starless sky as his respiration finally slowed to normal.

  It was almost dawn before sleep finally returned, and I made up my mind not to discuss the dream.

               -----------------------------////////////////////////////-----------------------------------

Believe it or not, the dream and the bus ride were both events that happened to me-- about two months apart. I pondered the dream as a hint, a warning, a suggestion to cancel the trip. The Peru adventure involved 2 internal flights and about 8 bus rides along roads and routes that belonged on a “World’s Most Dangerous Roads” reality show. I literally came close to crapping my pants on the Puno to Arequipa bus trip as the route was what I had seen in my dream.

             Having said that, I can’t wait to go back!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Panama- Halfway Home

Correction to last posting, “Juanita” was, in fact discovered on Ampato Peak not Sabancaya. The eruption of the latter melted the snows on adjacent Ampato allowing the discovery.

To Continue:

  A late flight Sunday arrived in Lima allowing little other than sleep once we arrived back at Hotel Runcu.   An overcast sky, Monday and a temperature of 17C proved quite a contrast to the previous 2 weeks of mostly sunny skies and highs of 12-14C.

 A walk to the central retail area of Miraflores was rewarded with the discovery of half adozen craft markets selling product from all over the country. Some of the items were actually cheaper ( though perhaps of poorer quality) than in the originating towns and areas that we had seen in the previous weeks. Some of the vendors even admitted that the cheaper “100% Alpaca” sweaters were actually derived from the rare Peruvian Wooly Parrot- hence the name “Poly Ester!!”

  Anyway, with the option of either converting our remaining Neuvo Soles back to $US at some loss of conversion, or spending them, we decided on the latter. Some basic haggling with several merchants ensured that there would be little chance of anything moving around in the luggage on the flight home.

 An early awakening (3am) to catch an early flight (7:10am) has provided an excessively long layover in Panama, (10:40am to 5:30pm) with little to do until boarding except doze and be thankful the place is air-conditioned.

 With the current temp at 31C and feeling like 37C due to humidity, this is probably a taste of the weather in Ontario last week. Perfect timing to come home. Maybe?

  With a scheduled landing of 12:10am it will be a little late to head to Scarborough for Chinese food, but I am sure that tomorrow will be another day.

  With another major vacation almost done, I am wondering if it is too early to start planning the next one in earnest!

  Time permitting, a final wrap-up may follow in a day or so,once my body has recovered somewhat from the trip

3 days in Arequipa

Arequipa, with a population of about 800,000 is the second largest city in Peru. In spite of its size, the key tourist areas are all pretty walkable. The Hotel Inkanto. the fanciest looking hotel so far ($80 a night) is 6 blocks or 10 minutes from the main square.

  Reminding me a lot of Antigua, Guatemala but without the cobbled streets, Arequipa has a very colonial look with beautiful stonework and many white buildings in the downtown core. The Plaza de Armas (as usual) is the key point in town. A massive Cathedral fills the entire north side while the other three sides feature a cloister like appearance- perhaps colonnaded balconies might be the proper description. Second floor restaurants provide great views of the central park while (as I later discovered) supplying second rate meals at prices as elevated as the view.

  With almost 3 days here, the original plan was a visit to Colca Canyon and Cruz del Condor. Offering a Canyon twice as deep as the Grand Canyon as well as the chance to see many Condors in flight, this 2 day bus trip/hiking trek was deemed a little too much to tack on to the previous 2 weeks of almost nonstop travel. With a total of over 30 monasteries, churches museums and other sites in the city alone, I felt that I didn’t need another two days on a bus.

  Friday morning was spent viewing the Museo Santury with exhibits from ritual Inka sacrifices discovered on the top of nearby Sebancaya Peak in 1995. This included a mummy , affectionately known as “Juanita” who is believed to have been a 12 or 14 year old girl, killed over 500 years ago.

 A huge chicken lunch and a siesta later we returned to the Plaza to explore the Cathedral and the nearby Jesuit Church known as Iglesia de la Compania. ( just like La Merced, there seems to be one in most key towns, showing the impact the Jesuits had on Central and South America) ­­

  Both were magnificent in their own way, the Cathedral being much more open and brighter.

 Most of Saturday morning and early afternoon was spent touring the Monasterio de Santa Catalina. Occupying a whole city block and surrounded by high stone walls, it is actually a nunnery which was founded in 1580. Originally home to a wealthy and probably not too spiritually focused order of nuns and novices who had their own homes and apartments (( as well as several slaves and servants) within the compound, it is now a museum, Enclosed within is a smaller private monastery, currently home to a small order (30) of nuns.

  A break for lunch as well as stops at more churches and museums concluded the afternoon,

 Following a passable steak dinner at one of the larger department stores we wandered back to the Plaza where a noisy disturbance turned out to be the local  equivalent of Pride Parade- 2 small decorated flatbed trucks and a double decker bus and lots of techno music. The police were keeping a close eye on the festivities, but had put away their riot shields for the evening.

  Sunday Morning- a return to the square this morning found the riot police out in full force as a small but very vocal group were involved in some protest which involved burning flags and effigies. Unsure of its outcome, I decided to put some distance between us and it in case things got ugly. Some last minute shopping and a slow service lunch kept things rolling until it was time to return to the hotel for our belongings and a cab ride to the airport.

Puno To Arequipa- almost time to head home

The trip to Arequipa began at 8 am with a disorganized attempt to catch the bus. Apparently we had tickets for the wrong bus line. An employee of a competing company exchanged them for tickets on his bus. He neglected to draw attention to the fact that the price was considerably less and neglected to offer a refund.

 The trip began with a return to the centre of the previously mentioned hell-hole Juliaca. Seeing it up close and personal emphasized my initial opinion. I would guess that 90% of the buildings in the city are unfinished (a tax benefit) and that 80% of the streets unpaved.

 Departing the city with a full capacity, including the obligatory whining brat in front and two uncontrolled, chair kicking brats behind, we set off along a dull and dusty route out of this city that passed several dozen small brick making operations, each with their own small kiln. Eventually the tacky city perimeter gave way to a somewhat narrow plain flanked by fairly high rocky hills. Travelling a path paralleled by rail, road and river the route meandered through this valley area of parched yellow grass tufts poking through rocky soil for almost an hour. Herders driving a mix of cows, sheep, alpaca and llamas could be seen searching for suitable grazing along the sides of the road.

 Eventually the river and rail tracks were lost from sight as the bus began a slow and steady climb into even higher hills with the snow capped Andes in the distance. The road twisted and turned for what seemed like hours before a sign marking 4300 meters seemed to indicate the high point of the route. Signs along the way marking Curva Peligrosa, along with others,( equivalent to wear seat belt) were punctuated with grave markers of people who failed to read or heed the warnings. In some cases, as many as 20 lined a patch at the side of the road- most likely testament to a bus or overloaded vehicle crash.

The road eventually leveled out and for an hour or so and the bus continued through a high valley marked with “watch for animals crossing” and “watch for vicuña” signs. A small wild herd of the latter were seen at one point, but too fast to capture on film.

   At 12:30 the bus began a slow descent into the Municipality of Arequipa, skirting the edges of narrow roads with dangerous drops. Several hundred feet below, verdant patches of green fields could be seen in views that are normally reserved for planes landing or taking off. An Arequipa bound flight in the distance seemed to be taking a far less stressful decent than our own vehicle. A nail biting serpentine descent along cliff hugging roads with zero tolerance for poor driving (many more roadside shrines) eventually brought us into the Arequipa City surrounds. Here a variety of hucksters, sharks and snake oil salesman cruised the bus aisles with a loudly and gratingly toned, sales pitch of their “miracle product.” Most of the captive audience seemed too polite to refuse the pitch and eventually purchased what was probably significant coin to them. Having seen similar sales pitches in Nicaragua and Guatemala, I merely shook my head in disgust.

 A few more twists and turns brought the bus into the main terminal where the unloading process took on a colourful fight for supremacy, as everyone tried to get their bags off first.

 Retrieving our backpacks, we lined up at the taxi rank and were rewarded with the next driver in line, who turned out to be both functionally illiterate as well as un-knowledgeable about the city layout. The dork was stopping and asking directions of ice-cream vendors, hot dog sales men, apartment complex security as well as traffic cops before he found the address, which to me was a key intersection that all drivers should know. A brief and futile argument over price and our need for a receipt resulted in his demand for more money for extra travel time and my comment that he shouldn’t be driving if he doesn’t know his way around. Flipping him an extra 2 soles ( and the bird) we arrived at Hotel Inkanto, shortly after 2:45- enough time for a fast unpack and a quick shower before hitting the travel route to the main square.

Lake Titicaca

July 4^th,

            Seems that the last 3 days has flown by. Monday, up at 5:30 for a 7am bus from Cuzco to Puno. The trip was a “tourist” bus which meant it stopped in 5 different sites on the way- nothing too memorable! It was pleasant enough trip, in spite of the fact that we did not arrive in Puno till 5:30pm. The last town north of Puno was Juliaca, apparently known as the Taiwan of Peru due to the vast number of factories turning out cheap items from cars to washing machines. Aside from Guatemala City it has to be the ugliest dirtiest town I have ever seen.

  Downtown Puno looks nice and clean. The Hotel Punuypampa is by far the best hotel, in terms of comfort and staff attitude, that we have stayed so far. The bathroom even has a small bathtub instead of just a shower.

Approaching Uros islands

Typical large boat

Locals embroidering pillow cases

Mother and daughter with wares for sale

  The Puno/Lake Titikaka ( or Titicaca) adventure started at 8am, Tuesday with a boat ride to the Uros Islands. These are islands made of a reed known as Totora. The islands are essentially made of the root area of the reed, cut into manageable sections and strapped together using synthetic cord ( e.g. nylon rope) Similar in texture to peat, it floats when released from the lake bottom. The mass is then covered with layer upon layer of the actual reed, reaching a thickness of (apparently) several meters. Buildings are then constructed using the same reed. In some cases more elaborate buildings of wood like churches, schools and restaurants are built on the larger islands. Anchored some 4km off the coast they originally isolated the inhabitants from invading armies and other tribes. Now they are mostly a tourist attraction, the inhabitants making revenue from the sale of embroidery etc.

 After an hour long visit, we set off once again to Isla Amantani, some 2 hours away. 

Typical meal- egg and boiled potatoes

Homestay kitchen area

There, our group of approx 20 tourists met with local families for what would be a one night homestay. Accommodations were fairly basic adobe houses with no heat, electricity or running water. The menu was essentially vegetarian and the conversation somewhat limited since the locals use a dialect, Quechua as their primary language. With no roads and no motor vehicles the island was mostly quiet, except for the sounds of the wind and sheep bleating. A hike to the highest point on the island brought us to a ruin and shrine known as Pachamama

 ( Mother Earth) At 4100meters it marked the highest elevation on the entire trip.

Four layers of blankets to keep out cold!

 

 

 

  After a small dinner in almost total darkness (one candle and a flashlight) bedtime involved being almost crushed under 4 woolen blankets to hold off the cold.

  The rising sun and the sheep in the pen below the bedroom window provided the 6 am wake up call. A light breakfast- coffee and 2 pancakes with jam, provided fuel for the next leg of the journey. A one hour boat ride brought us to Isla Taquile, where a 25 minute uphill hike brought us to the main village square. The view from the pathway of the surrounding lake, with Bolivia in the background was quite stunning. After a brief stop at the square to buy more hand made clothing items, the trip down to the other side of the island involved 550 rather rough cut stone stairs.

 The return to Puno involved a further stop at one of the Uros islands for a fried trout lunch, then a ½ hour boat ride back to the dock where a shuttle returned us to our respective hotels and, for most people, a long overdue shower and change of clothing.

  Overall, an eye-opening and somewhat rustic experience that makes one appreciate the comforts of home.

Locals gatheriing straw

 Tonight a pre-supper walk around the main plaza was interrupted by a sizeable demonstration. A police vehicle, an armoured troop carrier was parked in front of the police station and one side of the square was lined with police in riot gear with plastic shields. Within half an hour the square was filled with several hundred protestors – apparently related to a university strike. Expecting another rehash of Athens last September we selected an alternate route back to the hotel.

Homestay family

View from top of stairs- Taquile Island

View over Taquile island from staircase

 Tomorrow is another early wake up, with a bus ride to Arequipa where we will hopefully spend a relaxing 3 days without buying any more souvenirs.

Machu Picchu- at last

Sunday morning progressed much as planned. A 5:20 wake up call and a light breakfast with a couple of cups of strong coffee. Peruvians tend to use instant coffee in a concentrated liquid form, using 1 part coffee to 4 parts hot milk to supply a basic version of café con leche.

the Standard view with Wayna Picchu in background

The normal first view of Machu Picchu

  The route from town to the ruins is about 2km as the crow flies, and that is a little too steep for a bus route. But the serpentine route the buses do take adds a dusty 10km or so to the trip. Our group assembled at the ticket office at 7am where we met our guide for a 2 and ½ hour tour. The altitude difference, 2400 meters compared to Cuzco’s 3400 made a considerable difference the morning temperature, 16 vs 6C.

Agricultural terraces

Temple of the Sun

Wayna Picchu- as seen through Temple of Three Windows

Residential area of ruins

View of Ruins from below

The route into the site followed an uphill trail which emerged just bellow the Hut of the Caretaker (essentially a guardhouse), the typical view of Macchu Picchu as seen in most magazines. No photo could ever do justice to the scene. The surrounding terrain was just starting to light up in different shades of colour as the sun crawled up over the mountain tops.

  Our group having taken the obligatory photo-shoot, we commenced the tour in earnest.

  Principal stops included a number of temples, many laid out in such a manner as to predict equinoxes and solstices by virtue of light direction through windows. Some stones were perfectly aligned with the 4 corners indicating the points of the compass. One large area was a quarry of local stones, some only partly broken down- probably an indicator that Machu Picchu was never fully completed. Various theories abound as to its purpose. The more recent are that it was partly a retreat for Inca Royalty and partly as a place of study and education.

Your truly at Sun Gate with M.P. in background

Bus route to ruins

One of the highest points of the ruins was the Intihuatana, referring to a carved rock pillar, again used to predict the various significant positions of the sun.

 A final stop was at the Temple of the Condor, with the wingspan of the bird carved into the natural rock and its head carved into the floor of the temple area. (The Condor represents the Heavens in Incan spirituality)

 After the tour ended the group was free to wander the site or return to town. We chose to hike up to the Sun Gate, the “official” end of the Inca Trail. A rather arduous uphill 2km slog along a fairly narrow path, it provided amazing views of the surrounding mountains as well as different views of the ruin. Just like a second trail to an old bridge, the route also provided a glimpse of the town some several hundred meters below, with no guardrails to prevent anyone from taking the short, and obviously fatal, way down.

Time for a beer and a shower!

 Totally fatigued by the estimated 7 km we had covered in a little over 3 hours, we gladly caught the bus back to town where we joined the rest of our party for the train ride back to Ollantaytambo. Transferring to a bus on arrival, we arrived at our Cuzco hotel shortly before 7pm. That left enough time to shower, change, have dinner and pack before a planned early bedtime.

 After planning this trip for several months and wanting to visit it for many years, Machu Picchu was everything and more than I had imagined.

  With the alarm set for 5:30am and with heavy footed fellow travelers leaving at all hours of the night, sleep was at best sporadic.

  At 12:30pm Monday we find ourselves on a tourist bus to Puno, scheduled arrival time 5:10pm. More on that in my next update
                        David
p.s. M.P. pictures will be updated later- computer crash wiped them out of upload!

                                                                                                                                      

arrival at Aguas Calientes

Saturday June 30th 

   Yesterday morning was spent touring some of the Inca sites surrounding the city of Cuzco. A re-visit to Saqsayhuaman allowed a more in depth visit to the ruins. Our Intrepid guide Luis, who is a local, seemed very knowledgeable in the history of the various sites. From Saqsayhuaman we went to Quengo, a largely destroyed ceremonial site used for burials and ritual sacrifices. A few km further down the road was Pukapukara, a learning centre as well as a checkpoint and observation post screening movement into the area approaching Cuzco. A final stop, Tambomachay, was used as a relaxation area and bathing area by the Incan aristocracy.

  Returning to Cuzco we spent the afternoon exploring parts of the city that we had so far missed.

  Arriving at a church some 5 blocks to the west of the main plaza we found ourselves in the middle of a major religious celebration at the church of  San Pedro. A band was playing outside the church, while inside, two relatively small andas (floats carrying religious icons) were being slowly carried down the main isle to the front of the church in preparation for a processional through the town.

 I finished off the afternoon with a tour of the Cathedral, actually 3 interconnected buildings constructed over a period of 200 years. Like the other key Catholic buildings, the Cathedral was built on the ruins (destroyed by the Spaniards) of Incan palaces with the materials re-used to build the foundations.

  With altars of wood covered in sheets of 22k gold and pure silver it was an impressive sight.

 A large portrait of the Last Supper in the Cathedral showed Christ and his disciples dining on a meal of roast guinea pig and local fruits and vegetables. With more to describe than I can possibly fit into this blog, anyone interested should do a google search.( La Catedral, Cuzco or Cusco) Interestingly the locals pronounce the name of the town, Cosco [ no relation to the supermarket!]

 5pm Aguas Calientes.

 The route towards Machu Picchu took us by hired van to Ollantaytambo. There we boarded a Peru Rail train for the trip here. With 5 coaches pulled by a diesel engine, the train was amazingly comfortable with large side windows and panoramic windows in the ceilings, allowing a wide angle view of the route. Taking roughly 90 minutes to cover the 45 km route, the track paralleled the meandering route of the river. On both sides the mountains provided a most spectacular backdrop. I was surprised to learn that rail is the only way to access the area- there are no public roads into the town.

  We arrived in Aguas Calientes ( Hot waters) shortly after 2:30pm. Looking somewhat like a poor man’s version of Banff the town has a Central Square and a main street, with dozens of smaller streets spreading like a spider web up and down the hills. The main street is divided by the railway tracks which continue on a further 10km to a hydro-electric plant.

Every other building is either a restaurant or a souvenir store, and every restaurant seems to have the same menu- pizza, Peruvian food, Mexican food. A little overpriced compared to Cuzco, however the portions are big enough to split between two.

  The people on the streets are either tourists returning from or waiting to visit Machu Picchu, or they are porters, relaxing in the sidewalk cafes and bars after having completed their 3 or 4 day treks. Surrounded by bags, sometimes larger than themselves, one is amazed at the stamina of these individuals. While the tourist trekkers typically carry no more than 6km in their packs, the porters are carrying up to 30km of gear including tents, cooking supplies etc.

9:30pm

 Tonight we had dinner with our guide Luis, who filled us in on the details for tomorrow. The alarm is set for 5:25am and we should be at the main gate of the ruins by 7am or shortly thereafter. A guided tour should last approx. 2 and ½ hours which will allow an additional 3 to 4 hrs. to explore sites and buildings not covered on the tour, before catching the 3pm train back to Ollantaytambo.

 The hotel, being only a few hundred meters from the river is bathed by the soothing sounds of the rushing water. Regrettably, it is also only 20 feet from the railway tracks so the room vibrates every 30 minutes as a train rolls by. Hopefully there is a curfew on pissing off tourists and that the trains will stop soon.