Cruising around Cusco

Cab drivers in Peru are crazy

Standing at the Edge of the World

Random tourist taking in Machu Picchu

Throw Yourself into the Unknown

Feeling the mystery and magic at Machu Picchu

Growing Up in the Peruvian Mountains

On the Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu

Jesus Christ Trilogy

Cuzco, Peru

4 Month Recap

It took three and a half months but Mike and I finally made it to Santiago, Chile. In a previous post I wrote about how the original plan was to go straight to Santiago after hiking Machu Picchu, but that plan obviously went out the window. A lot has happened in such a short time and I will be writing longer posts about how we got sidetracked in Iquique, a beach town in the north of Chile,  and how we were forced to cross into Argentina to renew our tourist cards.

¨A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.¨

– John Steinbeck

In less than four months I´ve visited one of the seven wonders of the world, experienced a groundshaking 6.5 magnitude earthquake, hiked the driest desert on earth, toured majestic vistas with ominous names like Death Valley and Valley of the Moon, floated in a salt lake, ate guinea pig, surfed at some of the best breaks in the world, had dinner at 1 am, conversed for hours in a foreign language, learned the true spirit of Christmas and spent it sunbathing next to a pool, been kicked out of a party for being white, gone crabbing with my bare hands, watched the best sunset of my life, hiked mountain passes at 4,600 meters, touched a live monkey, hiked through jungle, picked up hitchhikers, ate the best steak of my life, been ripped off by police, toured wineries, drank malt beer with raw eggs for breakfast, learned how to whistle, been whistled at, been in a riot and swam with sea lions.

We´ve met a lot of people – many good,  some assholes and a few truly great ones. Thus is life.

My thoughts after three months in South America:

-South America is much safer than I had imagined.  I haven´t been mugged or had anything stolen and all of my organs are still intact.

-My trip isn´t unique. While staying at different hostels you meet many people who are doing the same trip as you – literally, the same route, destinations and attractions. Some are taking time off school, some are on vacation from work, some quit their jobs.

-Germans travel the most. Then people from Holland,  Australia, England, Canada and Israel.

-Chileans are some of the proudest people I´ve ever met. Their police are known for being the only law enforcement in South America who cannot be bribed.

-Peruvians are the worst drivers. Period. (read more about them here)

-South America is a lot more expensive than I had imagined. At times, big cities in particular, it rivals the US for food, alcohol and clothes.

-The rules are much more relaxed – I rented a motorcycle without being asked for a license, insurance or deposit. I´ve drank booze in a cab, in a mall, in a supermarket, in a bus terminal, on a bus, on the beach, at a skatepark, you get the point.

-Life is different – South Americans don´t have the same competitive attitude ingrained in them like people do in the US. In Argentina people go to work at 10am, have lunch at 12, then siesta from 1pm until 5pm, then go back to work for a few hours. Suffice to say, their lives do not revolve around their careers. There are also subtle touches here and there that you wouldn´t find in the States. In Salta, Argentina I ordered only a coffee and with it came fresh squeezed orange juice, seltzer water and a plate of cookies. One dinner on an overnight bus included lamb and rice, pizza, a glass of wine, then coffee cognac. In the morning they woke us up with coffee, tea and breakfast. On the airplane down to South America I was charged $2 for a pair of headphones to watch the ¨free¨movie.

-It is possible to get by in South America for four months without knowing Spanish.

The trip has been amazing but it hasn´t always been easy. One night Mike and I were stranded outside a disco in the pouring rain for 3 hours, miles from town, sober and extremely annoyed, unable to get a cab. Then there was the day we went to the bus station, fighting nasty hangovers to learn that the next bus didn´t leave for 10 hours. When we tried to lay down in the bus terminal we were continuously inconvenienced by security guards. We then sat on hard wooden benches, upright, for the remainder of the day. I have had more food cravings than a pregnant woman only to be met with the same three food options day in and day out.

I should also probably add that Mike has had more physical ailments in South America than I´ve had in 24 years. He´s had bug bites, colds, headaches, bruises, scrapes, infections, fevers, stomach problems, and now has a toe that turns away as if it doesn´t want to be associated with others.

The best is yet to come. I have been looking forward to seeing Patagonia for months and now it is only a few weeks away. The game plan after New Years: From Santiago go to the Chilean beaches of Valparaiso/ Vina del Mar, then go down to Chilean Patagonia for photography, trekking, and general outdoorsy activities. Cross into Argentina Patagonia, head north to Buenos Aires, cut through Uruguay to Brazil, travel up the coast of Brazil then fly to Columbia. Sail to Panama and travel Central America or return to New Jersey.

The trip so far: Lima, Cuzco, Arequipa, Arica, Iquique, San Pedro, Salta, Cafayate, Tucuman, Catamarca, Cordoba, Mendoza, Santiago.

For everything, airfare from NJ to Peru, a flight from Lima to Cuzco, 11 bus tickes, tours, food, hostels, discos and drinks, I´ve spent close to $3,000. Not bad considering I would have spent more than that on rent, gas, food, alcohol, and junk I don´t need if I had been living in New Jersey for that time.

Longer, more detailed stories about the Iquique Vortex, Gypsy Halloween, Chilean Christmas and more are coming!

Cusco: The Next Episode

9/18/09 – 7:30 am. Lima, Peru. Mike and I wake with no recollection of the past 24 hours. Looking around the room we discover our twin beds are pushed together and there are two girls lying in between us. We scramble to our cameras for clues of the past day´s happenings. Upon realizing the unknown guests are actually just our hosts, we start to piece things together. Unfortunately for Mike, the puzzle was a bit more complicated. One look at his face and I can easily diagnose his Typhoid Fever. I recall the previous day Mike felt dizzy, feverish and looked as if he could pass out at any moment. At one point he went to a Peruvian pharmacy for Advil and walked out with two ¨cure-all¨ pills manufactured in Colombia. Needless to say, they cured all. However, it probably was not the best idea to combine them with alcohol, which our Peruvian friends said would be entirely ¨OK.¨

It wasn´t.

At this point we are convinced our friends rufied us, which, coincidentally, we had joked about all week. In Lima, roofie pills are freely available at most bars. Our friends work at the bar. We only had two drinks. Slight coincidences. The last thing we remember is standing outside a bar at 5am in the middle of Peru shouting obscenities at a group of guys.

Jump to the airport. After 30 minutes of hugs and tears we leave our lovely hosts and approach the terminal that looks like a North Face fashion show, buzzing with backpackers itching to conquer Machu Picchu. Twenty minutes into our flight Mike wakes up, turns to me wide-eyed and asks, ¨Why is everything white?¨ Looking at his perspiring forehead and dilated eyes, I suggest he go to the bathroom. Thirty minutes later when the pilot´s voice tell us to prepare for landing Mike wearily emerges from the plane´s tiny washroom. When I ask him what happened he replies, ¨With what?¨and immediately falls back asleep. Mike later tells me he was closer to death than he had ever been in his whole life. Needless to say, I felt like a million bucks.

Take one step into the Cuzco airport and it immediately sets the tone for the entire city; swarms of people competing for your wallet. I have never felt more wanted. After departing the plane, a corridor forces you past a row of vulchers offering ¨free information.¨ Amazing – people competing to help us and give us information, just out of the goodness of their hearts. Perhaps it is our aimless walk or the stupid ¨gringo¨ look plastered on our faces but we are immediately greeted in English by a man resembling the classiest used car salesman; slicked back hair, terrible suit with an even worse tie and one of the whitest smiles I have ever seen. How could we resist? There is no way this guy will try to take advantage of us young American backpackers. And thus we came to know Paul “Salchipapas” Ivan.

The second we tell him we don´t have hostel reservations in Cuzco he hurriedly pushes us out of the airport and into a giant van that could easily seat 15 people. Instead it sat two. Still a bit skeptical, we refuse to put our bags in the trunk and opt instead to grip them tightly. Sweat dripping down our faces, heavy rucksacks on our laps, no idea where we are going, we glance at each other and decide to just enjoy the ride for what it is: free. We quickly learn nothing in South America is free.

After realizing the people of Cusco act, dress, and look just as miserable as the people of Lima, we knew Peru was going to be a long ride. We pull up to an extremely nice looking hostel in the center of the main plaza. Paul hops out of the van to make reservations for us. He approaches the door and tries the handle. Nothing. He knocks once. Nothing. Two and three and four times. Nothing. Mind you it is 1:00pm and we can see people walking around inside. After repeatedly being ignored through the intercom he returns to the van and tells us with a smile that could please a baby, “We´ll just go to the next one, this place is a shit hole anyway.” Perhaps Paul´s reputation proceeds him. By the time we arrive at the third hostel we are ready to jump out and sleep on the streets, but as luck may have it they actually have a room for us. After showing passports and signing in we sit down on a couch at Paul´s ushering. Immediately, he turns on supersalesman mode. He offers us coca tea and begins ranting about every type of tour available; from whitewater rafting to horseback riding to rappelling to riding ATVs to the Inca Trail. We have just come from a week of nonstop partying. I can´t remember last night. I can barely comprehend where I am. The last thing I want to do is listen to this cheeseball blab on about adventure tourism. After a few minutes I am at my wits end. Too tired to care about manners I interrupt him and say,  ”Listen Paul, I´m exhausted and I´m going to my room to sleep. PEACE.” With that we made our first escape from his endless sales pitches and both decided that we would book absolutely nothing more with Paul.

After leaving the comfort of Teresa´s home this came to be our first hostelling experience – off to a bit of a rocky start. We are a bit skeptical of the beds so we whip out our North Face Snowshoe sleeping bags, zip ´em up and pass out. After sleeping for what feels like 28 hours I wake up starving. Mike is making no noise and doesn´t react to my talking so I venture off alone. Armed with only a small book of Spanish phrases, I wander around the city in an altitude/hunger induced stupor and stumble into a restaurant. After pointing at a few different things on the menu, I discover that I ordered soup, chicken, rice and lemonade. While I eat a man in a motorcycle jacket next to me busts out a taser and starts shocking the air wildly. I think he is telling a story, attempting to impress his female companions, but I really have no idea what is going on. I pay the bill, which I´m pretty sure is too expensive, and step outside to realize I have no idea where I am. Dizzy, disoriented and out of breath I eventually make my way back to the hostel to find Mike still asleep.

After hibernating for 34 hours Mike wakes up and runs to the bathroom. We spend the next day speaking with tour companies and comparing prices for the Salkantay Trek. We didn´t go with the cheapest but rather the company that seemed most professional and spoke the most English. We considered booking the trek via Internet, but thankfully we waited until we got to Cuzco.

Advice for Machu Picchu - If you want to hike the actual Inca Trail, plan ahead. The trail has a daily capacity and it is absolutely impossible to join a tour unless you reserve a spot/permit via a tour company months in advance. The Salkantay trek is cheaper, less crowded, one day longer, always available and absolutely gorgeous. You must reserve the Inca Trail trek from home, but definitely wait to book the Salkantay trek upon arrival in Cuzco because: 1) It´s cheaper. The least expensive tour we could find on the Internet was $400. We paid $180 for the Salkantay 5 day trek and we could leave any day we wanted. 2) Altitude sickness is real. Most tour companies suggest arriving in Cuzco two days before your trek to allow your body to acclimate to the city´s elevation. We waited three days and I´m thankful we took the extra day – a decision you might not know until you arrive in Cuzco.

Up next: 5 day trek through mountain and jungle to visit Machu Picchu…

A preview of the trekkers

Lima is for Drinkers

9/15/09 – 12:17 am. Mike and I land in Lima, Peru.

Teresa and Milagros meet us at the airport and lead us to a taxi. We hop in and Teresa immediately hands me a beer. I think I´m going to like South America. And so my first impression of Peru – there are no rules.

We spend the first night getting to know each other over Pisco sours and cancha, the popular Andean snack made from a special variety of corn called maiz chulpe. The kernels are salted and toasted but don´t pop and burst out like traditional popcorn. They are the Peruvian equivalent to American bar nuts. The first word I learn in South America is ¨borracho,¨ (drunk) which appropriately sets the theme for our first week. After a day of stress, airplanes, beer and Pisco we  retire to bed.

The next day we go to Bembo´s and sample Peruvian fast food. I order a burger topped with chorizo and some sort of fried flakes that look like frings (onion ring slices). I come to the conclusion that 1) Fast food is universally disappointing 2) The food barely resembles the pictures on the menu 3) When hungry, fast food always seems like a great idea but I always immediately regret eating it.

They do sell beer, however, which Mike brings along while we check out the mall and supermarket. Upon entering the grocery store an employee stops Mike; not to take the beer but to give him a sticker to show proof of purchase. Apparently in Lima it is perfectly suitable to sip a beer while grocery shopping.

The girls show us different sections of the city via cab, which is an experience in itself. Driving in Lima could and should be considered an extreme sport. The taxi drivers are hands down the worst drivers I have ever seen – and I´m from New Jersey. They treat traffic laws as mere suggestions, driving four vehicles across a three lane street, darting in front of one another, all without glancing in a mirror. Forget about yielding for pedestrians. If 6 Flags opened a ¨Lima Taxi¨ ride it would probably be the most popular attraction. The drivers are that ridiculous.

At face value the city of Lima gives the impression of being crowded, fast-paced, and slightly dangerous. From April to December garúa (coastal fog) plagues the city, making the weather grey and chilly every day. The city´s gloomy tone started to wear on me after four days so it´s no wonder everyone looks miserable. Most neighborhoods look like the developing world but there are a few diamonds in the rough worth a visit. The Barranco district is one of them.

Teresa and Milagros both work at a Barranco bar called Santos. The foosball table, outside terrace, delicious food, potent drinks and bohemian decor give Santos a stellar combination that lands it on my list of top 5 favorite bars in South America.

Our first night at Santos we try Coca Sours. Made with coca-leaf-infused Pisco, the drink has a slightly darker green hue than a traditional Pisco Sour and a more complex flavor thanks to some herbal overtones. Later that night we party at a disco called Tequila´s for someone´s birthday – I´m still not sure whose it was. Mike and I get a bottle of Johnny Walker Red, a bottle of rum and a bunch of mixers, all for $25. When we finally leave we step out into daylight – it´s 7am.

Another day we seek out the popular cuisine Cuy (aka guinea pig). The waiter gives us the option of ordering the whole rodent or just a section. We opt for the whole damn thing – head, teeth and claws still in tact. I must say it was quite disappointing. There is very little meat on it. It tastes like chicken, only worse; it is tougher and gamier. The dish´s appearance is unappetizing, to say the least, with its menacing head still attached, baring teeth. And it was expensive. It cost around $20 for the plate!

We were only in Lima for 4 days but thanks to our wonderful tour guides we saw a ton. In a glimpse: drank pisco/coca sours, ate cuy, enjoyed arroz con pollo, took siestas, chilled at Santos, walked around Miraflores, rock climbed, partied at Tequila disco til 7am, watched Alf, ran through fountains, played soccer futbol, visited the oldest bar in the city, and saw the president´s house.

[Background: It was our first time meeting Teresa and Milagros but we quickly became good friends. Thanks so much for everything!]

The Circuito Magico del Agua is an aquatic exhibit made up of 10 or so giant water fountains and is a surprisingly cool attraction that I recommend visiting given the chance.

Tip: Visit at night when the exhibits are illuminated.

Although Lima isn´t likely to win any beauty awards, its generous conversion rate and laid back tone make it a fun city for partying.

Next stop: Machu Picchu via Cusco!