Don't Give Me That Altitude, Mister!

Mike's Cusco Theme Song (sung to the beat of Afroman's "Because I got high")I had all these things to do,But Cusco is high.I was gonna see Machu Picchu,But Cusco is high.Now I'm throwin' up and I know why,Cuz Cusco is high, Cusco is high, Cusco is highBa Da Da Dup DupI was gonna walk the anchient alleys,But Cusco is high.I was gonna visit the Sacred Valley,But Cusco is high.Now I'm passing out and I know why,Cuz Cusco is high, Cusco is high, Cusco is highBa Da Da Dup Dup.I suppose it's wise to inform those who don't know that the Peruvian city of Cusco sits at a paltry 11,000 feet, suck it Denver. Mile high my Toocus. This altitude has a strange effect on the body, but I'll get to that in a moment. First I must explain how we got to such a mind-scrambling altitude.We took a shuttle from our hostel in San Jose. We were sad to see Costa Rica go, but very cheap conversations with the families back home over the international phone they had softened the blow slightly. We arrived to the airport expecting the chaos and crowds of LAX or Freebirds on Halloween, instead it was more akin to a Save O.J. telethon, just dead. So we were a little early for our flight, had to kill an hour or two in the airport no big deal, right? That in itself wouldn't be so bad, but when you couple it with a four hour flight to Lima and our...(wait for it)... 13 HOUR LAYOVER in the Lima airport. When one is approached with such a situation one deals with it in the same way one deals with death: step 1. denial "It can't possibly be that bad." step 2 sadness. "you mean we have to stay in the foodcourt until 3 am before we can even get to the terminal's comfy chairs?" step 3. Anger "I hate that stoned out little STA agent who booked us this flight." step 4. Bargianing "We can trade our tickets for something else, let's go to Cuba, anywhere as long as it leaves soon." and finally stage 5. acceptance "here you use this bag of Fritos as a pillow, I'm gonna read my 200th page today." So we survived through the night and our flight, of course delayed and extra twenty minutes as a middle finger from LAN Peru airlines, and we took a quick hop to Cusco. We asked ourselves, "why wait 13 hours for a one hour flight, we could have walked" We stepped off the plane and into a completely new world. It woud have been culture shock to come here from the states, but to make the transition from Costa Rica to this is a real kick in the filopian tubes. We went from sea level, 82 percent humidity, unbearably hot, sweating through you shirt, pouring rain, colorful bright pastel houses, lush greenery, air so thick you can drink it to crisply cold, dry, everything beige (the mountains, the buildings, even the people), air thinner than the case to enter Iraq. It's an adjustment we are still struggling to make.So we battled on and grabbed a taxi to what we thought was the perfect hostel, only to find out that what Lonely Planet says is incredible histiorical site turned international community more accurately described as the world's oldest frathouse. We came in at noon the day after Halloween. There were still tequila shots on the windowsills, seriously. we hung out for a while waiting to see if we could get a private room and observed that we were definitely not in our scene. There are more douchebags there than a Limp Biscuit concert. So when i went inside to ask if i could use their phone to call other hostels, they recommended a nice little B and B just down the street. I don't know what it is but we just attract adorable older women. Maribell who runs this place is the sweetest woman, more on that later.We woke this morning and went out to explore Cusco a bit, we went to the Plaza De Armas, a highly touristy main square and the Central Market, which was one of the craziest things I've ever seen. Cusco is an incredible city. It's a place at war with itself. There's this deep internal battle between its deep Incan heritage and the influx of western influence that has come in due to the areas touristic appeal. The result is as such, stand on the street and observe the native peoples carrying their lives and children on their back dodging gringos in Ray-Bans. A vendor who sells hand cultivated spices made the same way they have been for thousands of years, sandwiched between a tour guide hub and video camera store. I would have loved to spend all day exploring the nooks and crannies of the city, but the altitude had other ideas. You can feel it as you walk down the street, shortness of breath, heart beating fast, but you laugh it off. Then, if you don't take it easy, on comes the sickness. It starts as mild headache, and upset stomach and quickly escalates into extreme discomfort. The sickness hit me as we were having lunch in Gringo alley. Jenny who luckily has dodged the effects, was eating her alpaca steak, (it's gamey and tough and somewhat reminisent of beef, like a steak at Denny's) as i just stared at my meal. The feeling is like being drunk, nausea headache exaustion, without the fun of not being responsible for your actions. So we made our way to our room to sleep it off as I battled through my delerium. Jenny tells me that I said in my stupor as I prepared to pass out the most apt description I can possibly think of to describe the feeling "It feels like my organs are sad" (Add to this the despair of having lost our Lonely Planet guide book). For perspective, if travelling were pregnancy Lonely Planet would be "What to expect when you're expecting," "Everybody Poops" and "Are you there God? It's me Margret" all rolled into one. I awoke from my nap to a knock on the door from Maribell the caretaker with complimentary altitude sickness pills and Cocoa leave tea, which is the local remedy. Both worked incredibly and my spirits are high (we found the book).Another reason for my good mood is that Jenny and I have booked a four day trek to Machu Picchu. It's not the Inca trail, but the lesser known, third of the price Inca Jungle trail which includes moutain biking down a snow covered mountain, hiking through the jungle, natural hotsprings and concludes with sunrise over the newly crowned greatest wonder of the world. So what are you doing tomorrow?(unfortunately there's no USB port on this computer ,it's that old so no pictures)

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