Back from MP

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As expected, the Inca Trail was fantastic, as was Machu Picchu. Truly amazing. One thing I hadn´t anticipated was the variety of microclimates you go through. We saw so many different animals and flowers and things. This made the whole trek interesting, as well as the ruins you see on the way, and the thrill of walking on real Inca road. Machu Picchu was awe-some (I added a hyphen so you hopefully won´t read it with an American accent.). It´s the setting. Those mountains... I dashed around from room to room, stroking everything, pausing only to stare up at the Andes. Mist got in the way of the view from the sun gate, unfortunately, but I bought a postcard of that view, so tant pis.

The trek was a bit of a walk in the park, though, for those who, like me, were unecumbered by altitude sickness, stomach bugs and most of our luggage. We went slowly and were forever having breaks. Compared to some of the walks and mountain bike rides my father has led me on around Europe, where you surmount five peaks in an afternoon or something. The Inca Trail is high up, but you start high, whereas in the Lakes you start pretty much at sea level.

Lots of breaks and also lots of food. Five meals a day, we had. On day 2, for instance, yes we crossed Dead Woman´s Pass at 4500 metres or whatever it is, but then we were at our campsite by ten past one, and this was our overnight stop. None of us had brought a book, football, (netball,) pack of cards, and there was nowhere to buy alcohol... How those hours dragged. We got given three meals before bedtime, without having done anything to work up an appetite. Good food, too, so I ate loads.

Got some kip on the train back to Cusco, then up to our hostal, where they had given our reserved room to someone else. As this was Big Festical day in Cusco we thought maybe we´d be sleeping on the streets, but we found another, cheaper, room soon enough and I managed to have a shower before the man turned the water pump off, leaving the others in some bother. We ate around midnight in the end, and went to a nightclub where we were supposed to be meeting out group. Presumably, they had been there earlier.

This morning, I got up fairly pronto to head to the black market on the outskirts of town, a la recherche of my camera, following a tip-off from a hotel guy that stolen goods are sold there. No luck. This market was huge, covering a maze of streets. I tried to be systematic, but soon couldn´t remeber which ones I´d been down before and which I hadn´t. It was very local. I was there for a good hour, and only saw one other tourist, and it was packed, all argy-bargy. Rubbish of all sorts was up for sale. I thought about buying a smashed up circuit board, headless barbie or empty whiskey bottle, to support the local economy. I didn´t, not only because I didn´t really need these things when I thought about it, but also because I didn´t want to move my hands and arms from their security positions over my bag and pockets. I´d been told this market was dangerous and I wasn´t to go alone, but I wanted my camera (Liz stamps her foot)! I had all my cash in the world on my person, so that I could buy it back, and therefore I was a little nervous. Came to no harm though, and have now abandoned hope. My camera would have stood out like a sore thumb amongst all that junk. If it was there, I suspect it would have been in the hands of one of the sinister looking men standing by the sides of the street, and I lacked the know-how to go about getting it from one of them.

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Some people are sending comments saying they haven´t been able to send comments, and maybe I won´t see them till I get back. Richard, for instance. I can see your comment, Richard. But I don´t know who these long lost people are who you refer to.

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Comments

[Richard]

Long lost..
I only meant Claire and Ruth, nobody really long, long lost. Keep up the blogging!