Año Nuevo

I am writing from Chile, where we´ve been for a few days. Holly and I got to the little beach town of Arica, Chile on Tuesday and have been chillin on the beach. Not a bad way to spend some vacation time. Yesterday we rented bikes and rode along the shore to the end of the road. There´s a bike trail that goes further along the coast and passes a bunch of caves and tide pools. Farther on, there´s a colony of sea lions just hanging out on the rocks. It reminded me of the coastline of northern California, except it´s totally desert here-no vegetation. We ate fish at a restaurant that the guy was cleaning when we got there-fresh outta the ocean. This morning, we hopped on a bus to a mountain village called Putre at the foot of a national park with volcanoes and lakes. Very beautiful. But when we got here, we discovered the town was empty because everyone goes into Arica to party for nuevo año! We are still working on getting a ride up to the park to do some hiking and sightseeing with a dutch couple and an crazy italian named Guiseppi. I need to get back to Arequipa and Cusco by Sunday to start working in the clinic, so I imagine there´ll be alot of bus riding this weekend. Holly is going to continue down through Chile, making stops at the salt flats in Uyuni salt flats in Bolivia, the beach town La Serena in Chile, and others as she makes her way to Santiago. We´re separating again...Qué triste! We´ll be celebrating the new year and thinking of all the great people who have been supporting us and have been excited to follow along our journeys. All the best in ´09!!!

Feliz Navidad

To be honest, I think I'd rather be saying "Merry Christmas"... Being away from home for Christmas is harder than I had thought! However, Christmas Eve festivities couldn't have been more fun and I wish I could have shared them with you all! I am staying with a family in Arequipa, Peru and they have generously taken me (and my brother) in for their Christmas traditions. It is actually much like it is at home.... People running around crazy trying to finish last minute shopping and cooking. Rob and I decided to venture into the masses of people yesterday. I got a kick out of it, while he got pissed off and walked home with his tail between his legs. After I had had my fair share of the craziness, I returned home, 6-pack of beer in hand with the hope of cheering my brother up. Success.

Christmas Eve dinner here doesn't begin until 10pm. I was worried I wouldn't be able to stay up that late since my sleeping schedule here is much like that of an 85-year-old man. But once I saw the display of food before me, my sleepiness vanished and I began to dig in. Day after day, the family continues to try to fatten me up with food. Much like it is for us, they try to show their love with food. Christmas is no exception and I was forced to have seconds....

After dinner, the waiting til midnight begins. Here in Peru, the kids do not believe in Santa Claus, although his name here is "Papa Noel." In that case, the celebration begins at the stroke of midnight when it becomes Christmas. I've never heard so many fireworks in my entire life! I'm reluctant to say that it made our Fourth of July celebration look extremely weak. I'm not talking big fireworks, I'm simply talking the little ones with the big noises. Tio Jose (Uncle Joe who I would say is in his 70s) was lighting them off in his hands. I was laughing so hard I thought my Christmas dinner was going to come back up. Fireworks could be heard for miles... We proceeded to light sparklers inside the house as we toasted to "la navidad" with champagne. The opening of the gifts comes next (every last one) and needless to say, we didn't make it to our beds until around 2:30am.

I know this is getting long-winded but I wanted to share one last thing about the "paneton" which to us is FRUIT CAKE and somewhat of a laughing matter. But here in Peru, paneton is one of the biggest traditions of Christmas. They are everywhere. In all the mercados and in all the little shops around the city. I bought one for each of my Spanish teachers in Cusco. I can't help but laugh. In fact, my belly is full of the stuff plus hot chocolate as I sit here and write this...

Merry Christmas,
Holly

La Comida, Parte 1: Las Frutas

Wow. I can't believe it's taken me this long to talk about the food in Peru. Maybe it's because it's pretty damn good, and I've been too busy eating it. I will probably write more about food in later blog entries because there is so much to talk about. In the first installment of my food chronicles, I want to talk about fruit. I went to the market last weekend with Henry and Juana (the parents of my host family), and discovered more about the many fruits that, as an Uh-mur-ken, I have neither seen nor even heard of before my adventure to Peru. For example...

As you may know, there are many different varieties of bananas throughout the world. The banana that we eat in the States is the Cavendish, and I think I remember hearing that the species is being threatened by some predator. The bananas here are not too exotic, and I'm actually bit disappointed by them.

There are a lot of melons. The Pepino is a little melon that, so I'm told, is a close relative to the cucumber. The Pepino, however, is round, about the size of a baseball, and is a pale yellow with purple stripes. It tastes similar to a melon you'd find in the states, but with less of that gross melon flavor.

Membrillos, Tunas, Pepios, and Manzanas

Juana bought me some membrillos to try out. Membrillos the look and texture of apples. But when you bite into one, you discover that it's dry and sour, like a lemon was genetically intertwined with the apple. A little difficult to eat raw, it is a great fruit for tarts and mermeladas.

One of my favorite new fruits is the Maracuya, a little, round, yellow, slightly withered peice of fruit. I had first seen it as a flavor of ice cream. Jauna also bought me a Maracuya to try, and I was anxious to give it a taste. She cut it open, and inside were seeds surrounded by a gel-like goo. I scooped out a spoonful, popped it in my mouth, and quickly realized what a bad idea that was. I have never tasted bitter of that quality. My mouth contorted, my eyes released tears, and I jumped up and down. Whew!! I was glad to get that down. I had a few more bites, but saved the rest to be mixed with sugar (lots of sugar) and water for some juice.

Maracuya A similar fruit is the Granadilla (aka Passion Fruit). It contains seeds without the extremely bitterness of the Maracuya.

Granadilla

On the streets, many Quechua women sell Tuna (not the fish). Tuna is the bud of a cactus plant that is cut to remove the cactus shell and reveal a fleshy green inside witha bunch of hard seeds. It tastes a little melony, and has seeds that ou're not supposed to chew outright, but gum and swallow. Not bad.

That's it for the fruits for now. I'll be back with more about food later.

More pictures HERE.

Apprendiendo

I am learning a lot of new information here in Arequipa. I´m learning that I like to sleep with earplugs. It´s not that the rooster that "cock-a-doodle-doo´s" from 3am to 10pm bothers me. He´s pretty far away. Nor does that cat that woke me up thinking that a little girl had fallen in a well and had been calling for help for 17 hours. No, it´s not those. It´s also not the garbage trucks here in Arequipa that play a melody like an ice-cream truck. I think it´s the song Holly practiced and practiced and practiced on the piano when we were kids (Holly informs me it's Beethoven's "Fur Elise"). I´m very familiar with it. Nope. Nor is it the guys who ride up and down the streets in the mornings on their tricycles (really they´re bikes, with big platforms to carry merchandise to sell), announcing what they are selling. At least that´s what I think they´re saying. Their voices are so garbled by the megaphone that, despite my progress in my Spanish classes, I have no damn idea what the hell they´re saying. Nope. I´m used to it. Almost comforting by now. I sleep like a baby, despite these sounds. Just as long as I got my earplugs.

Oh, and my Spanish is coming along just fine.

Holly

Holly arrived in Arequipa last night. I haven´t seen her in a few weeks. We both went to Cusco, and she had found a school and arranged lessons before she arrived in Perú. I waited until I arrived to find a shool that I liked, and ended up not wanting to stay in Cusco as it´s the hub of gringo tourism. I landed in Arequipa, which I must say is a pretty sweet town.

Holls had been taking Spanish lessons in Cusco for a few weeks and living with a family. Here in Perú, family includes not only Mamá, Papá, hermanos y hermanas, but also aunts, uncles, cousing, grandmas, grandpas, and whomever else is around. Holly´s "mom" was a woman named Manchi, and everytime I called to talk to Holly, I ended up talking to Manchi for a good ten minutes. Not that I understood everything she said to me every time. But I think the last time we chatted, she told me she was gonna call us on Navidad, and that I should call and stay at their house when I come back to Cusco. And despite the jokes around their house that I am Manchi´s new boyfriend, I think I´ll take her up on the offer.

Holly got in late last night, so I met up with her today and walked around the city. We walked back to my apartment and she was shocked at how big it was. I guess I´m living in style here in Arequipa. I know my meals are delicious and plentiful, but I didn´t realize how much comfort I live in as well. We cruised back into town where we ate Nutella-filled crepes with ice cream. Don´t worry, I´m headed home now for a big dinner. More soon. Ciao!

Escalando

I received an invitation to go climbing last weekend from Iván the guide with whom we climbed Chachani. I gladly accepted as it was not only a chance to go climbing, but a chance to get out of the city and see something new. I met him at the shop, along with a couple of his friends, and we proceeded to pull out gear-harnesses, ropes, biners, cams, quickdraws, belay devices, grigris. Iván even had a pair of shoes I could borrow. But there are very few people here in Perú with feet like mine. The biggest size Iván had were 46: I wear 50. But they worked, and ultimately I was able to climb.

We hopped on a combi and rode up to a neighborhood that doesn´t see many gringos. We exited the combi on a corner where families had set up tables and sell food to the drivers as they make their rounds. The chicos looked on in awe as I stood there, all 2 meters of me. They giggled in amusement at the circus show that I brought to their barrio.

We walked up a gravel road to the end of the barrio. At the end of the barrio, there are plots of land that people just claim as their own. There isn´t much electricity and no plumbing, but people build stone fences and then stone houses on which they put a tin roof. It´s a very poor section of Arequipa, and impacting not only the health of the people there but also the health of the desert upon which it boarders.

Further up, we came to a cut through the ground in which a huge canyon just appears below. We climbed down a bit into a smaller section, and found a spot that Iván and co. had installed a few bolts in the rock. Iván got on, and made his way up the route, putting up quickdraws so we could toprope. I hop on next, and suddenly am reintroduced to climbing. After a quick move at the beginning that took me a couple of tries, I found myself face-to-face with lateral move with teeny fingerholds, and a jump to put my right foot where my left was already standing. I looked at the rock, concentrating. All I wanted was for a hold to appear, to emerge out of the rock, and somehow I thought that the more I looked, the more I concentrated, it would form itself for me. Nope. I made the move, and missed. After a few more tries, I threw in the towel. I wanted to climb more and didn´t want to wear myself out.

We hiked down to the mouth of the canyon and looked up to see 50 meter walls on either side. Iván had a few climbs bolted and ready to go. He took us to one called "Chocho Loco", Crazy Ass. He cruised up easily, and I followed. Huge holds, but with a slight inclining angle off to the left. Having not climbed in over 3 years, it was perfect for me. Working through a few tight spots, I could feel adrenaline hitting me. I met Iván at the top, and we set up the rappel. I also forgot how much control the mind has over your body and how easily and quickly it can act, as the height got to me a bit. But no hay una problema. On the ground, I helped Carlitos and Luz work their ways up the rock and relaxed.

Darkness was approaching as we made our way out of the canyon. We passed a buho-owl-sitting on a cactus. We came across a bouldering problem which we all gave a shot. My hands and arms were shot, so I resigned to take some pics. We continued on after the bouldering, and exited the canyon to see the lights of Arequipa shining as the oranges and purples and reds shone beyond. We walked down to catch the combi, said hello to the chicos again (who laughed some more), and rode back into town. I got home and after another great meal with the fam, enjoyed a restful nightful of sleep.

More pictures HERE.

El temblor

Today, while in my Spanish class, I heard a strange rumbling noise that started off in the distance. Before I knew what was going on, the noise was close, and I could feel the ground start to shake. I was upstairs in the 3-sided building, in an open classroom. The floor of the building was shaking, but somehow I was denying the truth. But, it was in fact a tremor. It lasted for about 10 to 15 seconds. In my disbelief, I sat in awe and amazement. Suddenly, though, the realization that it was a tremor hit me, and a a smal wave of adrenaline pulsed through me. It was pretty cool. It was the biggest (well, first) I had ever felt. Apparently, it´s no big deal down here. Most people, when I ask them about it tell me it happens all the time. My professor was pretty worried, though... about her television. Apparently, ít´s her favorite posession, and it cost her a lot of money. So she called her sister to make sure it was ok. Just another tembrol en los Andes.

Cars

Although I haven´t driven a car in close to 3 weeks, I can´t help to think so much about the culture of automobiles here in Perú. From an American´s perspective, it´s freakin´ crazy. There are few intercetions with stoplights or stop signs. A few intersections have square box-type posts in which a traffic cop sits and determines which direction gets to go. Many streets are one way. But that´s about it for regulation. In between, it´s a game of weave. If you want to make a left turn, you pull out in front of someone, or you don´t get through. About 85% of vehicles on the road are little taxis, many of which are tricked out by their owners. The taxis have traditional horns as well as driver-controlled car alarms. When the traffic stops for more than, say, 5 seconds, an onslaught of horns, beeps, blips, whistles, whines, and any other electrical sounds barrage your eardrums.

Another mode of transportation is combis, which are mini-busses that employ someone to hang out the door and yell the destination to people on the street hoping to drum up some business. These are pretty cheap and, if you can figure out where they're going, a pretty good source of transportation. Oh, there are hybrids, too. The Dodge Coronet, a relative of the Charger (remember the General Lee from the Dukes of Hazzard?), is alive and well here in Arequipa. It picks up people like a combi, but holds fewer people (maybe 10?), It has a huge V8, and often has huge, custom hood ornaments. They are the pride of their owners, who are more than willing to pose for pictures with them.

Of course, busses roam the highways (really just 2-lane roads). The drivers aren´t afraid to pass large construction semi-trailers or other other busses, drive in the oncoming traffic lane, or even fish-tail out of a gravel parking lot. Seat belts are used infrequently.

There are private cars lurking about the streets of Arequipa. Most are pre-1990. I've seen a lot of VW bugs and buses that would make many-a hippie drool over. Datsun is alive and well in Peru, as well. And occasionally, you can find some AMC's around. Somehow, they keep on chuggin.

Overall, the roads in Arequipa are dicey. They keep you on your toes, literally. However, I´ve yet to see one of the many dogs roaming the streets get hit by a moving vehicle.

Photos

I have posted some photos from our travels to the Sacred Valley HERE,
along with more from Chachani,
and more from Arequipa and our trip to Cañon del Colca.
Enjoy!

The Next Adventure

Sunday was my first day on my own here in Peru as my traveling partners left me the night before. I was excited, though, as I prepared to move into my new apartment with a host family. I met Henry the day before, and he seemed like a really nice guy. Alejandro from the Spanish school picked me up and drove me to the new apartment. I hastily unpacked, and soon was walking back into the town center, the Plaza de Armas, with Henry. We chatted on the way as he pointed out landmarks so I could find my way back. We laughed at tourists as he showed me some secret spots. Soon he bid farewell, and we went our separate ways.

I cruised around town for the rest of the afternoon. The weather in Arequipa is always nice: warm, dry, and sunny in the day and cool at night. I got lost on my way home, but only by a block. Upon return, Henry brought dinner upstairs for me, and we hung out and chatted. I spoke more continuous Spanish today than in the previous two weeks. And, despite my brain hurting from the effort, I feel like I am starting to make progress. I am excited for the homestay and to get to know the family.

Thanksgiving

I spent Thanksgiving in the small town of Cabanaconde in the heart of Cañon del Colca country. It started out rough (see previous post), but turned out to be very relaxing and nice. Niki, Amanda, Christine, and I rented horses for the afternoon, and took a leisurely stroll around the rim of the canyon. It was beautiful.
We even saw a turkey in someone´s backyard. That evening, we ate a tasty dinner in the hostel in which we were staying. The main area was cavernous, with large wooden tables and only candles to light the room. Stone walls and dirt floors added to the ambiance, along with some of the best soup we´ve had so far. We gave thanks. And, sharing that thanks... I´m thankful for the amount of people who care for me and spend their time reading this blog: following along on my journey with me. It would have been wonderful to have spent Thanksgiving with you all, and you were in my heart. In the meantime, I hope everyone ate enough turkey to compensate for my "small" dinner!

La Noche del Diablo

Just when we thought the day was getting better...

In Chivay, we found a cavernous restaurant called Casablanca, ambled in, and sat down at a large picnic table. A cute young waitress came out, and was immediatlely friendly. She brought us a pitcher of wine, which was well needed after the events of the day. Soon, we were bouncing to the 80´s mix on the radio, eating trucha frita (fried trout), and playing a lovely game of jiggle face next to a cozy fire. Susanna, the nice waitress, listened to our story of our rough bus ride, and was amused to serve us. The busy season is winding down, and the flocks of tourists coming into her restaurant yelling "Pisco Sour!!" had greatly decreased. She enjoyed talking to us, and soon offered to find us a hostel. We were relieved, feeling luck had turned back our way. We finished dinner and walked out onto the street where we hopped into 3-wheeled motorcycles with carriages on them-motorized rickshaws-and rode to the hostel. We arrived at the Rumi Wasi hostel, met the caretaker, and were showed our room. On the way in, we were hassled by a few kids, who were about the same age as the kids on the bus yesterday. We lay down and fall asleep quickly, but not for long... The kids were loud. Running up and down the stairs, shutting one another out of the rooms, chasing each other around, and screaming. We woke up. We didn´t fall back asleep. One boy was locked out of his room, and was begging his "friend" Aléc to let him back in. His voice is tattooed on my brain. Niki went out and politely asked them to be quiet because we were sleeping. Surprisingly, it lasted for about 45 minutes before it started up again. Not long after, I went out, and saw two older women (girls?) hanging out, not disciplining any of the children. It´s hard to show emotion at someone in a language with which you´re not comfortable with. But some words came out as I did my best to make the kids shut up. They finally did at 2 am.

They were up and loud at 5 am. Not much sleep for us that night. We resolved to get out of there quickly. As we were leaving, we saw the woman who hounded us from yesterday, smirking at us and demanding payment. I wanted to hop out of the window and skip the bill, but the girls wouldn´t let me. Tired and frustrated, we left Chivay without even getting in the famous hot springs there. Not a fun way to start Thanksgiving.

El Autobus del Diablo

After Chachani, Niki, Amanda, Christine, and I made plans to go to Cañon del Colca, the second deepest canyon in the world and over twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the states. The only bus we could find left Arequipa at 2pm, so we spent the day catching up on sleep, emails, and food. Being puntual Adventure Treks instructors, we arrived shortly before 1:30, and eagerly awaited our bus ride. And then it started...

We attempted to get to the ramp to board the bus but the ticket-checker denied us no fewer than 5 times. The bus wasn´t even here, she said. Finally it arrived, 15 minutes late. We got on, opened the windows to decrease the overwhelming stuffiness, and waited until departure at 3.

Next, a young man who we mistook for our tour guide, began his shpiel about something. The only words we could recognize were Amigos and something having to do with Redemption. He handed out candy, a nice thought until he came by 5 minutes later collecting money. Christine didn´t give any. As the bus winds its way up and out of Arequipa, it stops to pick up randoms who need a ride somewhere. This bus stopped and picked up about 30 4th grade kids, and about 3 chaperones. They were well behaved and relatively quiet. Soon though, someone popped in a children´s video akin to Barney, with screechingly loud, high-pitched Spanish character voices. I was listening to my iPod, and barely could hear the music over the noise. The video ended, but was followed by over an hour of equally loud Groupo Cinco, Perú´s music sensations. Finally we arrived in Chivay, at the head of the canyon. We got off the bus, flustered, and shared stories. A man sitting next to Niki was sleeping, and as he snored blubbered spit all over her. She was visibly shaken.

But there´s no peace in Chivay. A slightly heavy woman in her 40´s continually approached us to stay in her hostal. Niki politely told her to give us a few minutes to collect ourselves after a gruelling bus ride. But she hounded. I got firm with her, reminding her that we needed a few minutes, and it seemed to placate her. But as we got out of our cabs on the town square, we noticed her chasing us down again... she had followed us! We took her flyers, threw them in the garbage, and found the closest restaurant where we could get a drink.

Chachani, Part 2

Lead guide Iván offered to guide us along the route through the dark. I think he was happy to have us along, as were we to have him. Despite Amanda´s stomach ache and my headache, we felt pretty good. We reached the halfway point in 2 hours, but knew the hard part was still to come. We watched a sliver moon and the sun rise at the same time, while Arequipa´s lights faded away.

As the sun rose, the hiking got harder. The lack of oxygen made it difficult to do anything. None of our bodies was sore or tired, but our brains were exhausted from the concentration put into forced breathing and the discipline needed to go forward.

We reached the summit at 7 am, after 5 hours of hiking. We descended, thinking that we would instantly feel better. Our headaches got worse. We had to cross some scree fields with hanging ice above-sketchy as the warm sunshine melted ice and released rocks. We reached campamento base 3 hours later, mentally exhausted and physically tired. We packed up and hiked down to meet Jacinto, who brought us beers to celebrate our summit. Even though the road was bumpy, we slept most of the ride back to Arequipa.

After showers and naps, we met Inti and Iván for some pizza and beers. They are amazingly nice people, and we are happy that we met new friends in Perú. Their connection with the mountains and their integrity towards responsible guiding is worthy of respect and admiration. We appreciate their service and their friendships.

More pictures can be seen at: http://picasaweb.google.com/laingrob/Chachani#

Chachani, Part 1

I arrived in Arequipa on Saturday evening, after a 10 hour bus ride from Cuzco through the altiplano of Perú. The landscape was like southern Wyoming most of the way, with snow-covered peaks and grass-covered highlands. As we descended into Arequipa, we could see the high volcanoes, including El Misti, Ampato, Picchu Picchu, and Chachani. The Peruaños were filling me in on all the names.
El Misti

I met Niki, Amanda, and Christine (my Adventure Treks friends) and we began the preparation for our ascent up Chachani. Chachani is one of the easiest 6000+ meter peaks in the world to climb, topping out at 6075m. However, we knew it wouldn´t be easy. We met Iván at Quechua Explorer, who arranged a ride up to base camp for us. We then wandered around and bought food, a map, and other supplies for our trek.

Monday morning, Jacinto and Ínti picked us up in a 1984 Toyota Land Cruiser. We climbed in and got settled for our 3+ hour drive.

We sat next to Clauss, a German who hired Iván as his guide. He arrogantly chatted our ears off, and was perturbed when we stopped to get out his jacket when he complained it was too cold. However, the drive was fantastic. The pavement ended and the road bumped and grinded its way between Chachani and El Misti for 2 more hours up. When we got out, we were giddy and excited, and also breathing heavily. After a labored hour-long hike, we reached campamento base.

After setting up camp, we hung out with the guides from Quechua Explorer. They had a warm and roomy tent, and in it we played cards with another guide, Jávier. It was 5:30 pm, and we decided to hit the sack. Sleeping proved to be very difficult at 5300m. Labored breathing, sore neck, and cold weather made the 7 hours in my sleeping bag rather painful. But, we were fairly rested when we woke up at 1 am.

The Sacred Valley, Day 2

Holly and I woke up to the sound of people setting up the market for a busy day of tourists. We skipped breakfast so that we could hike up early before the weather could play any tricks on us. The trail was steep and consisted of stone stairwells that cut through the terraced mountainside. After less than an hour of lung-busting hiking (still not acclimatized), we reached some ruins. They were old buildings, not very big, that had been cut into the hillside. There were more above. We continuted to climb after a poptart (thanks Schmern) until we reached the main ruins. There were precisely cut stone blocks stacked perfectly to make walls.
Aqueducts carried springwater throughout the establishment. It was a gorgeous day, and the vistas up and down valley were amazing.
Running out of water and needing some fuel, we descended back into town, where Hipaulito greeted us and again talked our ears off. This time, he gave us the name of a hostel in Cuzco with, get this, the same name. Oh, and it was run by his son who goes by the name, yep, Hipaulito. We ate some breakfast and caught a taxi to a small town called Coya, about 4 km down the road. In Coya, we were looking for a clinic that we had heard about. Consulting a toothless fellow with a bucket, we found the clinic and were able to get a tour. It´s a fantastic facility that offers basic health services to the regions´ peoples. It runs on donations and volunteer medical teams from the States.

Next stop, Ollantaytamba, which is pretty much the end of the road for those on their way to Machu Picchu. That said, it was crawling with tourists. It is also the site of some fantastic Inca ruins, right in town. Hungry, Holls and I got some food. We then found a laid-back hostel up a side street and stashed our gear to go check out the ruins.
From the hostel we could see the main ruins in town, and it was a mess with people. So we decided to hike them tomorrow morning when the crowds would die down. Instead, we found a path that led up a steep mountainside on the other side of town. We hiked up to some amazing ruins, sat down, and took it all in. Beautiful.

That night, we strolled into a pizza joint hungry for some protein. As we were eating, a 4-piece Peruvian band entered and began to preform. We were the only people in the restaurant, and it was a little awkward knowing that afterward they would attempt to sell us a CD when we didn´t want to buy one. But we gave them a tip. As we were finishing dinner, the waiter, a young guy born in Ollantaytamba, started chatting us up. Soon, he was waxing philosophical: peace, brotherhood, Obama, war. Despite language difficulties, we left with a new friend.

The Sacred Valley, Day 1

Holly and I decided to head north to check out the Sacred Valley. This is the region north of Cuzco that was once the heart of the Inca Empire. To start our trip, Holls and I wandered down to the bus station in Cuzco, and hopped on a crowded bus that wove its way up the hillsides of Cuzco and onward to Pisac. It was crowded and tight, and of course Holly and I were the only whiteys on the bus. It started raining halfway through the 90 minute ride, so all the windows were shut and the heat and humidity increased quickly. One of the children on his way home from school wiped his boogers on the seat in front of me. We were excited to get off.

We got off in Pisac after descending into the valley of the Rio Vilcanota. It´s a small town with a large amount of Inca ruins high above in the mountains.
Holly and I found a Hostel and decided to try to hike up to some of these. As it was getting late in the day, we decided to wait for tomorrow to hike. Instead, we heard that a soccer game was about to start. We wandered around town, trying to find the field/stadium. We didn´t find it... only a family of large pigs parading down the street.


Back at the Hospedaje Bejo, we became friends with the owner, Hipaulito. He was a short round man who looked like he was a Peruvian mobster who moved to the mountains in the witness protection program. He talked our ears off, half of which we understood. Attached to the hostel was an art shop where Holly and I tried on sweaters. I put one on while Hipaulito and his friend laughed at how small the sweater was on me. It was almost a T-shirt! We think they wanted to make me one to fit, but as I´m still working on my Spanish, I couldn´t figure it out.

So we went to dinner and ate some great homemade pasta, pumpkin soup, and carrot cake until Holly could no longer move. Then she let me beat her repeatedly at Uno. We retired to the Hostel, planning on waking up early for a hike up to the ruins.

Cuzco

After an uncertain trek through the Atlanta and Lima airports, I made it to Cuzco. It was uncertain for a number of reasons. The night before I departed on my trip, I began to doubt the reasons for me going. I will be running low on cash; I was to fly standby to Lima (the price you pay for an inexpensive buddy-pass); and I hadn´t heard from Holly in a few days. (Big ups to Britton for the ride to the airport!) I pushed on, and after listening to the guy next to me inhale and exhale quick and forceful breaths the whole flight, I made it to Atlanta. Suffering from lack of exercise, I walked the length of the underground train a few times, which amounted to the longest indoor hike I knowingly have completed. I was able to board the flight to Lima, although not sitting next to cute girls as I had requested to the travel agent. The reality finally set in: I´m excited.

I arrived in Lima at midnight. I was surprised that I wasn´t bombarded with offers for cab rides. Because I flew standby, I waited to purchase a ticket to Cuzco to meet Holly until I was sure that I got to Lima. When I approached the ticket counter, they weren´t able to offer me a ticket unless I paid cash. It pretty much wiped out my cash supply, which may come back to bite me later. After paying the ticket agent, he pulled out his wallet, pulled out a dollar bill, and gave me my change. That´s right, from his pocket.

Cuzco is touristy. I didn´t find Holly right away. But the lady at the Hostel knew I was looking for her, and was so excited to reunite us that she woke me up by knocking on my door and telling me I had a phone call. It´s good to see her and the rest of the Adventure Trek crew. We have been walking around and eating a bit. El mercado proved to be a fascinating place as we saw lots of pig heads and a few testicles, too. I´m going back to get some sleep, and to figure out where we will go next. Adios!

I think it's hitting me now

I went to a family brunch today and found out that my cousin Will will be traveling around the entire continent of South America. Hearing him tell me that, and that we should meet up made the reality start to sink in that I'm actually going to Peru in a week. So far it has been difficult to pull away from everyday life to realize that life as you know it will soon be drastically changing. Going to a non-English speaking country seems like a large challenge. And although I know un poquito amount of Spanish, the locals speak it so damned fast!
I then went to some friend's house to hear stories of travel from Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and Chile while looking at photos. They gave me recommendations, backed by numerous photos of adventures. The excitement of having an entire continent within reach is setting in, along with an overwhelming sense that I don't have nearly enough time or nearly enough plans. Wow. I don't really have any plans-more like a few ideas. But there are resources available. And there will be others with similar agendas and experiences who can guide the way. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if I will end up spending time with too many gringos, and not learn sufficient Spanish.
In the meantime, I picked up supplies tonight: laxatives and anti-diarrheals, among others. Woo-hoo!

Bought my ticket!

I talked with Holly today as she was preparing to board the plane to Houston, then to Lima. I think she's finally excited, and the anxiety of the buildup of the trip is finally passed. I am super excited to meet up with her and be able to travel around together. Holls and I have never lived in the same city after I left for college. But over the years, we've become pretty close. I know this trip will be a great experience for both of us.

Yesterday I bought travel insurance. I went with insurance provided by World Nomads. It was inexpensive and seemed to have the same benefits of other insurers that charged a lot more. I hope I don't have to use it. It was a bit weird buying an insurance policy without having officially made travel arrangements, but with the prices of flights not changing, it didn't seem like a big deal.

And... I bought a ticket tonight! An old friend caught wind that I wanted to take a trip, and offered me a buddy pass! It was cheap-but I'm flying standby (albeit first-class!). I'll arrive in Lima late, and plan on sleeping in the airport, awaiting an early morning flight to Cuzco. See you there!