Not everyone is a traveler. Travelers are a special breed. They look like normal people from the outside, but when you get real close, there is a gleam in the eye, a want. Travelers are always wanting. More.
When you go into a bookstore, or read in the newspaper, or see in a movie a place so spectacular and different and alive that you think, TAKE ME THERE, you know you have the bug. It is only a matter of time before you switch your schedule and your life to make time for a this new adventure. Secretly you do research on this new destination, buying guide books, watching PBS, brushing up on your high-school Spanish. You become your new country, memorizing facts and lists and customs and dangers. You make a decision, quite suddenly. Jobs may be quit, apartments may be rent out, relationships may be put on hold. Traveling items are bought, very small and not too heavy. Money is counted carefully.
The first day is always, See this! Taste this! Smell this!, as if your life thus far has been incomplete without such stimulation. Everything is new and exciting. Everything shines. Everything sings. Everything must be touched. You tire yourself out, that first day, trying to cram a whole country into your mouth in one go. Tomorrow you will do it again, only slower, and with bargaining.
Eventually you get into the routine. Wake, dress, eat, do, eat, write, sleep. There is always something different to discover. There is the museum that houses the only collection it its entirety of something, the next city over with older buildings, the mountain out there with higher peaks. You cross off the pages in the guide books as you go along, as if this country is your to-do list. You invent new pages for the book, forge on through unexplored territory. You record your thoughts and feelings and tastes and textures, try to capture the days on paper and in email. You make jokes about things you don't understand. Your body adjusts to the constant movement.
There are fabrics, there are spices, there are markets, there are alleys. There are hats, and scarves, and fruits, and bugs, and animals walking around, not penned up in zoos. There are the locals, and then there are the children, and they wave or they stare or they offer you things to buy. Sometimes they ignore you because they aren't travelers, they don't care for new sensations. You keep going, keep eating and looking and taking pictures and memorizing scenes.
And when you meet other trekkers, the only language you share is travel. "Where are you going? Where have you been? What have you seen?" The conversation turns to timelines and prices, chief concerns of the wandering. You exchange advice, trade anecdotes, and wish each other good luck. Sometimes, if you have more than just your pack in common, you will share parts of your life -- "I'm a teacher, too!" "I also live in Minnesota!" "We just came from there as well - what did you think?" It feels good to have something in common in a place so far from home.
But even these new people will go on their own ways, and eventually, become another story from your trip, a memory like the city plaza, or the way locals say hello. You can't really collect friends when you are moving. People carry too much weight. Travelors need to pack light.
You're always ready to go home by the end. It's inevitable -- you pace yourself as you go along so that nothing feels too quick or too drawn out. By the end, you long to have a bed to sleep in for more than one night, a car to steer around familiar roads, a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwhich you prepare by yourself and eat sloooooowly sitting on the couch, watching TV. You are tired of being excited, tired of using a foreign language, tired of planning.
At the end of the trip, you marvel at your plasticity, your ability to adapt and accept this new lifestyle. For weeks, you've survived on strange foods, you've slept on scratchy sheets, you've ridden in swervy racecar taxis. You've gotten places through sheer energy and will. While this pride makes its way through your veins, your whole body simply desires to breathe in familiar air. At the end of the trip, you want to don non-traveler clothes and sit like a lump. You are done as a boiled egg.
But despite this mental exhaustion, you are already thinking about your next destination. Where can you go that is farther, cheaper, bigger? What countries can offer brighter colors, faster music, softer beaches? The world is so large, and you already have a backpack. You think about how you would fill it differently next time. Which clothes you will leave behind, what knowledge you will fold up tight and squeeze into your money belt.
That's what travelers do, they dream. Life is a big map, and they hope the future brings them more adventures. They dream of this past trip, of the next trip, potential great things.
As the plane takes off, if they are lucky, they will wake long enough to wave goodbye.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
pulse
Pulse rate comparisons
*note that at times, Wade appears a grown man while I, apparently, am still an infant adina
wade
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Wednesday, September 21, 2005
viente
Peru, last day.
Operation Counterfeit Money
Today we wake up late. We don't have much to do, so why hurry? Actually, we don't have anything to do. In bed I think about how there is nothing left here that I haven't done, nothing to do one last time. I'm seriously done.We take steaming hot showers and pack up our room. We deposit our bags at the front desk and buy several churros apiece across the street for breakfast. MMMM. GREASE.
Here's the thing about the counterfeit money: Apparently, I have some. Two days ago, I reached into my money belt for my next hundred bill, and it ripped on its way out. It is important that I was taking the bill out of my money belt. I only keep a hundred Soles in my wallet at any given time, and when that is close to running out, I take out a big bill from the belt and use that. When I last went to the ATM, all the hundreds I got I put directly into my money belt. When I pulled out the ripped bill, whoever I was paying got a shocked look on their face and refused to take it, as if it were cursed. So it stayed in my wallet until now, when we had a chance to go to the bank and switch it. (Two days ago, when it ripped, it was Sunday and the banks were closed. Yesterday the banks weren't open before our flight to Lima, and we just didn't get around to going until today.)
So the first bank we try says that this bill is counterfeit. They show us the blue-light mark, the glittery dots, the invisible stripe -- all security measures that are LACKING in my bill. OK, but what do I do now? Well they say I have to go to the bank where I took out the money. Luckily, I have all my ATM receipts on me, so we push on to BCP. Where there is a huge line. Which we cut.
BCP tells me that there is no way that this bill came from a BCP ATM. They describe their security measures, that each ATM dribbles some invisible ink on their bills so that any bill in the country can be traced to a certain bank. We ask if it is POSSIBLE that whoever filled the ATMs was a "bad man" (we really use that term) and maybe put in counterfeit money. BCP says it is possible, but that no, it didn't happen. They think what happened is that I gave out my hundee to someone, asking for change, and the person took it, walked behind the counter, traded it with a fake hundred, and returned, saying they didn't have change. I argue that I got the money directly from the ATM and put it in my money belt, where it ripped.
Their final word is that if we want to make a claim, we have to talk face-to-face with the "boss" from the ATM BCP in Cuzco, where I got the money. But we are in Lima, we say, we are getting on a flight to USA tonight. We can't go back to Cuzco. This gets us nowhere. We plead with BCP to call the branch in Cuzco and report the counterfeit, maybe even ask if there have been any counterfeit complaints lately, JUST TO MAKE SURE. JUST TO CHECK. PLEASE.
Absolutely no can do. Apparently the two branches of the same bank cannot communicate with each other. There is no way the Lima BCP can make a phone call to the Cuzco BCP to see what's up. I cannot understand this logic, but I also cannot sit and argue all day long. I will have to make a complaint through WashMu (Best Bank Ever) when I get home.
Last Day
We have our last lunch at the vegie place again. OBVIOUSLY I get Arroz de la Cubana. Wade is already sick of this dish and so he has another sandwhich. Sick of fried egg and fried banana and rice? What??? We've only had it for the past five days. In order to get REALLY sick of a dish, I need to eat it for two weeks. After Thailand, where I ate Pad Thai for lunch every day for a month, I couldn't go near noodles for about ten weeks. And then I could only stomach it a few times a year. Now I am back to normal, though, eating Thai about twice a month.BACK TO PERU. We spent the afternoon walking sloooowly around the city, trying to figure out if there was anywhere we needed/wanted to go. We got some beads in one store (though not Peruvian in the slightest, they were super cheap), I interneted while Wade journaled and post-carded, and we wandered some more. We stepped into Metro, the ginormous supermarket, and bought some bread and chocolate for the plane. Wade bought some ugly, small Peruvian things to stuff into his friends' packs back at Outback. It's a thing they do, I don't know.
With six hours to go, we considered all the various means of getting to the airport that would take more time than a taxi: catching a bus, getting a collectivo, taking a taxi there and then back and then there again, walking.... At this point we thought we saw the president of Peru in his motorcade about to enter the Palace, and so we sat down on the steps of the Cathedral and waited. Nothing happened. The motorcade was just a group of fancy cars passing by. But we kept sitting and talked about our trip. It was really peaceful, sitting there with the cars going by, watching the pigeons circling the plaza, not having to mind our time. It was like wasting time, but in a really pleasant way.
Until this guy walks up to us and says he is practicing his English and would we mind if he sat down and talked to us for a while. Wade said OK, we had a bit of time before our plane took off. The Peruvian did most of the talking, asking us about American customs and American lingo, accents and proper grammar. I felt a bit intruded upon. It is one thing to walk up to a stranger in line for, say, some attraction, and talk to them about the attraction or their travels thus far. It's another thing to walk up to two people sitting in a public plaza in the middle of a conversation.
In any case, we finally excused ourselves to catch our plane, retrieved our luggage from the hostel, and caught a cab to the aeroporte.
Wade's plane leaves at nine-thirty. Mine leaves at one. Sadly, I was not able to check in until nine.
After Wade checks in, we sat upstairs not eating Pizza Hut or McDonalds (the first we had seen in this country) but instead munching on our Metro breads and chocolates, reminiscing about our trip. It was bittersweet. I was so ready to go home, so ready to fall into my own bed with my own sheets and my own blankets, but also sad to be leaving someone I shared every second with for the last three weeks.
We did goodbye at the airport tax booth.
As I walked downstairs, a small cry welled up inside me. I was caught by Hawaiin beekeeper Matt, who was returning home after seven months in Equador, Bolivia, and Peru. We talked for a while about this crazy country, until it was time for me to check in.
Lucky
I still can't believe how lucky we have been on this trip, because the good fortune just keeps on coming. We got to the airport without a hitch. We checked in without problems -- we both had seats, our vegie meals were there, the works. Although I couldn't check in and go upstairs with Wade and wait, it worked out fine, us waiting together until he had to go, and really, I don't see that as a stroke of bad luck. I had to wait three more hours for my plane anyways.I found a store that sold English books, and one jumped out at me with the cover and titles. That's how I am about books. If they don't grab me from the start, from first glance, I won't bit. And this one, a true tale of a Muslim woman from the West Bank set afire for "disgracing" the family -- this one did the trick. It was just the right amount of money, too, and after paying I had exactly twenty Soles left, two paper bills that could be changed over to dollars. Money changers don't like coins, so I didn't want to leave with a chunk of change jingling in my pockets. Now all I have left is twenty centimes, a sum I am prepared to swallow.
With my purchase, I earned fifteen free minutes of internet of a nifty laptop set up in the store. Anna had written me back with her new digits, so I was able to address my final postcard from Peru. Although there is no post from the departure lounge, the kind girl at the register offered to send it for me with their mail.
And now I have another two hours to eat the bread and apple juice and chocolate I brought along, I have time to capture these last thoughts, and I have time to start my new book. Or perhaps the Vanity Fair magazine I nabbed last night.
So God has been good to us in South America, real good. We've been healthy, we've stayed friends (no small feat when in such close quarters), we've always found food and shelter, nothing was stolen from us, transportation was always easily had. Perhaps it is me being so optomistic, rose-colored glasses, what have you, that I choose to see everything as positive while ignoring those details that could have cast a negative light on our days. But I really feel that we were watched over these past three weeks, taken care of, and for that, I feel incredibly thankful and Lucky. Baruch Hashem, as they say in the 'hood, Broochashem.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
decinueve
Lima
Futball
We have an early flight to Lima. During our security x-ray and entrance onto the plane, our passports are not checked to our tickets.By walking far outside the airport, we can get a cheap, cheap taxi to the Plaza. It costs twelve Soles, as opposed to the ten Soles per person Urbanito bus, or the twenty+ Soles for an inside-airport taxi. We find a room with a bathroom (and hot water) a block from the Plaza for thirty Soles.
We have lunch at a very local place, a place where business men come in with tickets that look like expense receipts. We eat salad, an omelette, and rice pudding for dessert. YUM! We stop at a convenience store and buy lots of chocolate and treats.
AND THEN WE GO TO A FUTBALL GAME!!! Yeah, that's right, I said futball. Soccer. It is the World Cup Game for the Under Seventeens. Mexico is playing Australia, and for some reason the game is in Peru. We scalp tickets from a man and woman right outside the entrace. And the ticket-takers don't flinch, they just check to make sure the tix are legit. They are.
Inside the stadium, the Peruvians (most of whom are track-suited high-schoolers) root for Mexico. It is interesting, Wade and I feel much closer to Australians than we do to Mexicans, despite their living all the way around the globe, and Mexico is only a day trip away.
Last night in town...
On our last full night we have dinner at some vegie place mentioned in the Bible. I get a noodle dish. I expect it to be rather pasta-prima-vera-ish, but instead it is very salty and sort of like Chow Mein. What can you do. This is not the type of place you can send back a dish.Afterwards, we interneted in the basement of the weird mansion hostel with the busts and artwork and skulls in the lobby. There we met some girl who went to UC Davis and was veteranary interning in Argentina. She was bagging on Peru so I didn't like her very much. But I did nab an October Vanity Fair from the hostel bookcase while she was chatting with Wade.
Resting pulse in Lima, sea level:
Adina: 78
Wade: 48
Apparently we are of different species.
dieciocho
Cuzco
I wake up at ten today. It is so nice to sleep in. Today is our lazy day -- breakfast at a bakery, shop around, lunch of Arroz de la Cubana at a local place, maybe some internet, more shopping for gifts, and maybe catch a movie in the evening.I wake up to trumpets. They are having another parade. I go outside to investigate, and sure enough, I can spot hordes of people and uniforms in front of the cathedral in the Plaza. They sure celebrate a lot in this country.
We go to the market and buy a million alpaca hats and a million Inka Cola shirts. These are your gifts, so act surprised when you get them. We actually make a deal with one Tshirt stand woman, that we will wait twenty minutes while they dig into storage and find the vibrant colored shirts that we are after. We agree. I don´t think they actually have storage. I think the twenty minutes buys them enough time to shop around their friends´ shops and trade with them.
In the afternoon, we go to Plaza San Blas, which is the artisan quarter of this city. Wade buys some awesome plates that are covered with Peruvian/Incan doodles and drawings. We watch a dance troupe perform a song about the Diablo, though we guess acurately that their Devil is actually the Spaniards. The Diablo masks they wear have long mustaches, pale skin, and blue eyes.
What do we have for lunch? That´s right, Arroz de la Cubana. My favorite meal.
In the afternoon, we meet a Portuguese travellor at our hostel. We spread the word about the Don Isaac Trail. Later we see a movie, The Interpreter, which sucks. The experience was nifty, though. We got to eat dinner during the film. I have a banana and strawberry creme filled crepe. (There is another food delivery to the kitchen during the movie, no doubt the bananas for my dish.)
We internet, pack up, and sleep.
Friday, September 16, 2005
The Don Isaac Trail
The Alternative, Better Tasting, Cheaper Way to Travel!
Here at Don Isaac International, we understand your need for exploration at a lower cost. As an alternative to the popular Inca Trail, we have created the four-day Don Isaac Trail, a cheaper and far more varied trek. To find out if the Don Isaac Trail is right for you, read our detailed itinerary below.Day One
- 0800 - Wake up in Cuzco, pack luggage
- 0900 - Pick up street churros on way to bus
- 1000 - Bus to Urubamba (2 Soles)
Here is one satisfied trekker's account of the Sacred Valley:As we roll out of Cuzco, it is raining, hard. We wind up the streets into the hills, over the mountain, into the Andian flatlands. The road is windy, but the bus is slow. After a few minutes, we are in the Sacred Valley. The clouds have cleared and the sun is warming the earth.
Outside my window is a patchwork quilt of browns and golds, fields already harvested, dead after the dry winter. The colors are homey and warm and remind me of autumn and Thanksgiving. The land is gently hilly. The feilds follow the undulations -- farm plots start in the valley and reach the tops of hills. It is quite striking.
Years ago, when I flew over the Midwestern USA and plain country, I was in awe at the patterns of green below. There were fields after fields after fields -- squares and rectangles of every green shade in the crayon box. It went on for hours. See how many farms there are in the vast USA! See how lush the earth is, how many varieties of plants must exist to occupy the land over so many miles in so many colors!
Though not as verdant as the central States, these fields seem no less fertile. This valley has already done its job for the year. In another month, the rain will begin, and the fields will be planted again.
And oh! When we climb over the edge of the quilt, we reach the valley of Urubamba, green and lush, nestled in between towering peaks, like the kingdom far, far away in a fairy tale.
- 1200 - Arrive in Urubamba, the Sacred Valley hub of transportation. Seek out bus station to Quillabamba, in order to make next connection at local stop Santa Maria. You may be told that there may not be available busses to Quillabamba because they are not in Cuzco yet. You will sit and think about what this means, then five busses from Quillabamba en route to Cuzco will pull up at the same time. You will then realize that the mountain passes to Quillabamba are snowy and icy, and thus prone to delay. You may also realize at this point that you could have taken a bus directly to Quillabamba from Cuzco, but this extra step adds fun to the journey.
- 1230 - Stow bags at random hostel, set out for Salineras salt terraces
- 1530 - Return from Salineras with a long walk on the road
- 1800 - Eat a dinner of "corn" at hostel with your bags. This dinner won't fill you up, but it is a good introduction to the local cuisine.
- 1900 - Try to buy tickets to Quillabamba for 19:30 bus. This bus will be full. You can buy tickets for the later bus, at 22:30 bus, which will allow you to eat a second dinner and have some relaxation time, or perhaps card-playing time, before boarding. (17 Soles)
- 2300 - Board bus.
Day Two
- 0100 - Bus will stop in snowy mountain pass. Don't worry, this is a normal occurance at this high elevation. What often causes these delays are large trucks heading in the opposite direction that can't make it up the hill. There may be several busses behind that truck waiting to pass, as well. Your bus-mates may chatter loudly about the situation. They are merely as excited as you will be, but are expressing it verbally.
- 1230 - Men will hop off your bus and the other waiting busses to push the truck up the hill, into a double-laned passing area. One of you may want to get out and help, perhaps by pushing a rock behind the truck's wheel so that it does not continu to slide backwards down the hill. If you elect to stay on the bus, you can take out your sleeping bag for extra warmth.
- 1300 - By this time, the truck will have been moved out of the way. The waiting busses will have stalled at this point and need to jump-start or switch batteries.
- 0315 - Bus continues on its way to Quillabamba!! Here you have time to rest up for the exciting day ahead!
- 0700 - Arrive in charming, one-block-long Santa Maria. Eat Huevos y pan for breakfast at the hostel you were dropped off at. Here you can inquire about the combi to Santa Teresa. You will probably be told that they don't arrive until noon, maybe. You may realize here that you could have taken the bus all the way to Quillabamba and gotten a combi to Santa Teresa there, where they originate, but remember, The Don Isaac Trail is all about adventure!
- 0800 - Walk over bridge to road to Santa Teresa. While you are waiting for the combi you can breath in the fresh jungle air and admire the local roosters and piglets. You can also read or nap on the rocks by the river.
- 1100 - As luck would have it, you can also hitch a ride to Santa Teresa on a soda truck! This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, giving you insight into how business is done here in the mountains. When else will you be able to ride high atop a pick-up truck full of Oro Verdi? Is there a better way to admire the flora and fauna of the Eastern Andes? If you pay attention, you will be able to spot banana trees, papaya trees, and even coffee plants from the largest coffee supplier of Peru! You might also run into some local children, who will gaze and cheer at you as if you are a celebrity!
- 1330 - Arrive in Santa Teresa. Notice the massive construction efforts this town is making. Perhaps it is due to the increasing popularity of The Don Isaac Trail. We shall soon see. Ask any local person, for example a man handling a wheelbarrow, how to cross the mighty Urubamba River. Everyone is friendly in Santa Teresa!
- 1340 - Strap bags and selves into basket zip-line. Pull self across the raging river. Don't worry about falling out of the basket; This has only happened a few times before. THERE IS NO NEED TO PAY WAITING PERSONS ON THE OTHER SIDE. Many people mistakenly tip those "helpers" who pull their rope across. These other people are simply waiting their turn to cross the river. (1 Sol, if you tip by accident)
- 1350 - Begin hike to Idro, the hydro-electric power station behind Aguas Calientes.
- 1405 - You may have to stop to remove layers of clothing and eat lunch. You have been traveling for hours -- don't exhaust yourself!
- 1430 - Continue hiking. You will pass a tractor carrying local girls in its claws. Sadly, these tractors do not pick up backpackers. Neither does the municipal bus service, though its purpose is to drive people from Santa Teresa to Idro.
- 1530 - By this time, you have been hiking for an hour. If you are lucky, you will hear the sound of the sanitation truck behind you before it passes. If you stand in the middle of the road, it will have no choice but to stop and pick you up. This truck will be very different from the soda truck. You can stand or sit in the truck bed, but hold on tight! Sanitation workers drive fast! (4 Soles)
- 1540 - Arrive in Idro. Ask sanitation workers for directions to train station. They will probably tell you that the train has already left. This is to be expected, though the train may still be sitting at the station. Peruvians often lie for no reason.
- 1543 - Once you realize the train is still at the station, you can race up the stairs to try to make it aboard. Very few people are able to accomplish this feat. Even if you are acclimatized, you will have trouble running up the several flights of stairs.
- 1545 - Mild depression may occur, but will rarely last longer than several minutes. You are in the beautiful jungle! The walk on the railroad tracks to Aguas Calientes is quite pleasant, and only takes a few hours. This way, you will be able to reach the tourist city without seeing a single white person on the way!
- 1735 - The Maccu Picchu region is prone to frequent and sudden rain. Make sure your rain gear is accessable. Also watch out for bugs -- several clients have written in expressing regret for not wearing bug repellent on this portion of the trail.
- 1815 - Arrive in Aguas Calientes just after dark. The first hostel you see, a large, sprawling, neighborhood-in-a-building, will offer you the best deal, though the rooms are quite unattractive. Take it. You can change out of your wet clothes and take a nap.
- 1900 - Dinner! There are many appetizing options here in Aguas Calientes. If you are a good bargainer, you may be able to cut the price in half! Try the Arroz de la Cubana, a delicious dish of rice, fried egg, fried plantains, and potatoes. Here you can see how the eateries opperate -- if they are out of a certain ingredient, they just walk across the street to the market and buy it for their customer! You just don't see that kind of commitment on The Inca Trail.
- 1945 - Buy snacks for the following day's trek up to Maccu Picchu.
- 2000 - Fall asleep to the sound of metal bars being thrown onto the train tracks.
SALUD!!! Phase I of The Don Isaac Trail is complete!!!! You have made it to Aguas Calientes!
Day Three
- 0500 - Alarm goes off. Turn it off. Go back to sleep. There is no need to wake up so early on The Don Isaac Trail.
- 0600 - Alarm goes off again. Ignore it. You are on vacation.
- 0800 - Alarm goes off again. Now is the correct wake-up time. Get ready to buy train tickets home for the following day.
- 0840 - You may have to argue with the cleaning lady of the hostel about the correct check-out time. Though it is listed clearly as ELEVEN AM on the office door, she will claim it is NINE and that you owe an extra night's pay. Do not listen to her. Instead, explain to the man-behind-the-desk your train ticket situation. From our experience, we know he is more understanding and will give you leeway time to see if there are available tickets.
- 0850 - Ticket Man will claim there are no available tickets on the cheap trains. Do not distress. Simply stand by the ticket window discussing amongst yourselves your options. Inevitably, Ticket Man will jump up with the recollection that he has two returned tickets for the exact train you wish to travel on. AMAZING COINCIDENCE, or not? Your luck is all part of the Don Isaac Experience.
- 0910 - Return to hostel to book an additional night. Get ready for Maccu Picchu trek.
- 1100 - Set off for Maccu Picchu. The climb up consists entirely of stairs. Hike slowly, and don't forget to take in the beautiful views!
- 1300 - Reach Maccu Picchu. Lunch time!! If you are lucky, you can find some empty seats with interesting trekkers. Two satisfied trekkers reported that they met a paraplegic charity group at the lunch spot. They were given ammonia for bug bites by the generous fellows.
- 1345 - Oftentimes, it is here by the lunch tables that our clients run into trekkers they met in previous parts of Peru, such as the peach/apricot Israelis. Two lucky clients were even able to scalp Maccu Picchu tickets from said Israelis, as the Maccu P Ticket Man does not actually collect the tickets. If you opt to scalp, make sure you memorize the names on the tickets, as Ticket Man DOES ask your nombre. (35 Soles, scalped)
- Enter Maccu Picchu!!
DINERO!! Phase II of the Don Isaac Trail is complete! You have made it to the Inca palace!
- 1400 - Once you enter Maccu Picchu, you can procede to the terraces in the west. There is a good place to sit and take in the beautiful ruins, to revel in the amazing setting, and to wonder whether the structures are real, or rebuilt.
Here is one trekker's reaction to seeing Maccu Picchu up close:Now that I have seen several Inca ruins, I am able to differentiate between their stonework and other culture´s stonework. The Inca´s were so precise. They used huge stones as the base for many walls and buildings, but carved them into corners or staircases. Then they carved smaller stones to make up walls and ceilings. But they didn´t just use squares or brick shapes. Often, the Inca walls contain pentagons, trapezoids, parallelograms. The Incas make these all fit together, with barely a seam showing. There is no grout visible, no spaces in between rocks. In fact, my friend remarked that maybe they just used huge rocks are carved in seams so it appeared they did stonework. Really, it is quite striking. The Inca walls are also quite bulbous. They don´t flatten their stones, they round them out.
In Maccu Picchu, it is clear where the original, advanced stonework of the Incas remains, and where modern efforts have been made to "restore" the site to its former glory.
- 1430 - Trekkers can split up at this point, to either sit in one place, or to wander all over the site. Make sure you catch the rounded Tomb of the Inca on the northern side of the site. The stonework is quite impressive.
- 1600 - Begin downhill trek.
- 1640 - Return to hostel in Aguas Calientes, change into bathing suits for Hot Springs.
- 1720 - You may notice that they have increased the price twofold since the last Lonely Planet book has been published. Tourism is a booming business in this country! The Don Isaac Company unfortunately has no power over these costs. Soak your worries away in the mineral-rich warm, cloudy water that gave Aguas Calientes its name! Meet some fellow Americans in the pools, and exchange travel stories!
- 1820 - When you are completely pruned out, return to your hostel. You may elect to shower with clean water here, but be warned -- it is freezing cold.
- 1900 - Late dinner. Tonight you can eat your favorite meal, Arroz de la Cubana, and drink Cuzqueña beer. (You also may get to watch the proprieter of the restaurant walk around the block trying to find said beer.)
- 2000 - Return to hostel. Buy cookies for the train ride tomorrow. Try to sleep despite bug bites.
Day Four
- 0515 - Early wake-up, pack up for train.
- 0530 - You may be told by your hostel and by locals on the street that the train is leaving. Ignore them.
- 0536 - Arrive at train station out of breath. You will now see that your train is absolutely not leaving, and in fact will not leave for another fourteen minutes, at its prescribed time. On the train you will have some time to sleep (72 Soles)
- 0745 - Arrive in Quillabamba. Eat breakfast at any number of the cute hostels lining the river.
- 0810 - Explore the Quillabamba ruins. If you forgot to bring your Boleta Touristica, do not despair. The woman who mans the booth at this site is very understanding and forgiving, and will let you through if you promise to bring your Boleta to the next site.
- 0940 - Visit the Quillabamba market. This is a good opportunity to buy bread or other food for the rest of the trek.
- 1010 - Bus to Urubamba. This may be a squishy ride, as the route is quite popular. You may have to keep your packs on your laps. This is another chance to sleep. (1.20 Soles)
- 1040 - Arrive in Urubamba. You will be immediately shuttled onto a bus to Cuzco, though that bus may not leave for several minutes. However, your early arrival guarantees you front seats, where you will have room to store your packs and stretch out your legs. (3 Soles)
- 1105 - This bus often picks up flirty, teenaged Peruvian girls. They are very loud. Try to rest, despite the giggles.
- 1400 - Arrive in Cuzco!!!
AMOUR!!! You have completed Phase III of the Don Isaac Trail!
Total travel time: 4 Days, 3 Nights Total transportation and attraction cost: 140 Soles
After the trail...
After Don Isaac, we are POOPED. We hostel shop for a bit, but return to the Procuradora, despite the chilly room and hard-as-a-board bed. Wade loves this place so, because of its awesome balcony, and when he suggests we just put the third mattress onto my bed, I can´t really argue.
I take a shower with hot water. Real hot water. Although I can´t turn it on any harder than a few drops, because then the heat will disperse and it will be a warm shower or a warmish shower.
We check out the Israeli place down the street, not the one we were supposed to do Shabbat at and bailed, but a different place. YUM ISRAELI FOOD. We get salat, chips, falafel, and malawach. It is so good, so Israeli, so not Peruvian. SADLY, the Israeli food throws our bottom systems for a loop, and we suffer for the rest of the day. Into the evening. Into our nap, during internet time, even while receiving offers of marijuana from strange sketchy cigarette sellers on the street.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
trece
Cuzco
This morning, as I put in my contact lenses, my eye is siezed with the most incredible burning sensation. Perhaps I didn´t let the solution sit long enough? No, it has been brewing for ten hours. I blame it on the hostel´s shitty towels. No contacts today. And because it is drizzling outside, no glasses either. I´ll just feel slightly "off."Early, we stop at a grocery store for neccesary provisions. We buy bread, cheese, manzana, chocolate, manjar, fudge, V8, and Doritos. On our way to the Pisac bus, we buy manjar filled pastilles. It is raining on and off.
Today, we see four sites of ruins.
MACHAY TAMBO This site used to hold ceremonial water baths. Or something like that. We sit on a dirt mound opposite the ruins, and watch while a team of Peruvian construction workers re-builds the crumbled structure. Behind us are a group of Frenchies, all using walking sticks, the kind that look like cross-country poles. We will see them several times today, and wonder each time, why the sticks? Walking out of the site, we buy mini Inka calendars made of stone.
PUCA PUCARA These ruins are made out of pink stones that apparently are pretty at sunset. They are like Peruvian Jerusalem stone. We walk around on the site, which may have been a hunting lodge.
On our way to the next site, we meet up with a thirteen-year-old Peruvian girl who shows us a shortcut across a field. It´s a ten minute walk, and we have several sputtering exchanges. We learn that the schools here are on three rotations--there are three possible timeslots for school for each child. Presumably, this is to save space. Although, who knows. We also learn that the totally awesome track suits we keep seeing on kids around this country are, in fact, school uniforms. Kids have two uniforms, their "nice" uniform (skirts, boy scout looking duds) and an athletic uniform. WE NEED TO GET OURSELVES SOME PERUVIAN TRACK SUITS.
QENKO While waiting at the entrance to this site for Wade to pee, I have a laugh with some natives. One man is showing me pictures of the site, and the various animals that can supposedly be seen in the rock. I say, Como Say de say WOW?" and they laugh that the translation is just WOW or OH or OOH or AH. I was understood!! I made a joke!! I was laughed WITH, not AT!! A SMALL VICTORY FOR ADINA, the clown.
These ruins are really cool. There is a huge cave carved into a huge rock, a cave with a huge alter on it, large enough for me to sit on. And pretend I am a sacrifice. We eat lunch in the cave, because it has begun raining again.
SACSAYHUAMAN There are two awesome things about this site: The name, and the rocks. The name is pronounced SEXY WOMAN, though it actually means Satisfied Falcon. The rocks, they are cool. After seeing so many Inka ruins, I can begin to recognize which rocks are Inka, and which have been reconstructed for the tourists by Peruvians. The Inka rocks are huge, and very geometric, and fit together in the most magical way. For example, Sacsayhuaman was a fortress with four sets of parallel zig-zag walls. The walls are not made of rocks in a brick pattern, or a graph-paper pattern. They are composed of various shapes, squares and rectangles and trapezoids and more. Yet they are fitted together perfectly, with no space in between. One patch of wall was like Utah fitted to Montana. Another unique feature of Inka stonework is the rocks themselves. They are rather bulbous, rounded out a bit and not flat.
Apparently most of the original fort was destroyed by the Spaniards and used to build churches and other buildings in Cuzco proper. From the top of the remaining structure, we can see all of Cuzco.
Another part of these ruins are huge, polished stones with cutouts in them. These cutouts are called The Thrones. We sit here for a while. I decide I am a bit Sexy Womaned out, and we pick up a combi on our way back to town.
Mercado Central
The Mercado Central is this crazy, huge, tented area where the Real Peruvians go to shop for food and stuff. We see shirts, hats, dresses, aprons, eggs, raw meat, tea, vegetables, buttons, and everything else available in this country. I buy some more alpaca hats, because, I don´t need any justification.We then embark on a quest to find a track suit uniform. In Peru, the schools´uniforms are one of two things: a boy-scout / prep school uniform, or the athletic track suit uniform with school´s name and logo on the back. We would like the latter. To take home with us. And wear in the States. Sadly, the fellow who sews them tells us he cannot sell these glorious uniforms to random strangers.
While looking around the neighborhood for counterfeit track suits, we run into a small market party, Peruvians dancing around to the band, drinking chicha and beer. They invite us to take a sip. We decline. They invite us to dance, which we are more likely to do, but instead just watch. Someone tells us it is the anniversary of the market. They are celebrating.
Pretty soon I get cranky, and we turn our backs on track suits and search for a restaurant. We find a greasy, sketchy place that has a drawing of an alien in the window and a framed poster of The Lady and the Tramp. I have rice with fried egg and fried plantains. Huevos de la Cubana.
As we are eating, a parade marches down the street. This parade only has ten people and no costumes. It does not do it for me.
On our way back to our hostel, we stop into AeroCondor to see about getting plane tickets to Lima after our trek. THIS TAKES ONE HOUR. Not one hour of looking into flights and finding available seats. No, that takes about three minutes before we get the flight we want at the time we want. The lady at the desk says that they switched over from manual tickets to E-tickets YESTERDAY, and they are still learning the system. It takes three women one hour to print our tickets with the correct names and passport numbers. However, the office did have good candies, so there is that.
We internet for a while, listen to rocket and firecrackers outside, read some Bill Bryson, and have a nice sleep.
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