O-bla-di, o-bla-da

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Today, after a frustrating $16, 1-hour international phone call to Bank of America to find out WHY MY ATM CARD WAS NOT WORKING, we actually found a bank with an ATM that did accept my card, amen! This bank was BCP (Banco Credito Peru), but we like to call it Bank of the Crazy People. It is my new favorite bank because it prevented me from being penniless on my trip and having a panic attack in the middle of Cusco 😊.

A little behind schedule, we searched for the bus station to get a ride to Pisac, a smaller town outside of Cusco famous for its outdoor markets. After a few wrong turns (I was distracted by the immaculately clean Church of Latter Day Saints across the street, which stuck out like a sore thumb from the surrounding buildings), we found the station, paid our 2 soles apiece (about $.75), and patiently waited for the bus. Local women with babies around their shoulders in woolen slings waited with us.

Riding a local bus in Cusco is quite an experience. It is situated more like a large van, is often very cramped, and carries your typical cast of characters. Luckily, we were able to get a seat near the front of the bus, which not only reduced the bumpiness a little but gave us some fresh air from the door. When we stopped near a market, three women and a man jumped on: the women were selling snacks, and the man was begging and also trying to sell chewing gum. The women called out, "Gelatin-aaaaa! Gelatin-aaaa! " and offered baggies of homemade popcorn and dixie cups of Jello. We stayed at this stop for about five minutes, during which time another man boarded who was carrying a RUSTY SICKLE about the size of my head. It was only inches from Jamie´s face. He took a seat close behind Jamie, who silently began to freak out, instinctively wrapping her fleece scarf tighter around her neck. Not that she was suspicious of the man himself, but the ride was so turbulent that if the bus had swerved and the man had been thrown forward... well, there goes a vertebra! When we finally reached Pisac, necks intact, we breathed a sigh of relief.

We stopped and ate some lunch at the San Lucia restaurant, where I tried Inca Kola for the first time. Yum! It tastes a lot like Irn Bru from Scotland: bubble-gummy, hyper-caffeinated, and not legal in the US. While we awaited our food, a nice little dog visited us and left a nice little puddle of drool in Jamie´s lap. This comic relief was a welcome distraction (well, for me at least. Sorry Jamie!) from the overhead music, which was a looped tape of various Beatles songs played on Peruvian pan-flute. Charming at first, yes, but after an hour, if I heard "O-bla-di, O-bla-da" one more time, I was going to o-bla-blow that place to the ground.

Here followed a shopping spree at the markets, where we bought lots of warm stuff (hats and gloves and scarves) for our 3-day trek to Machu Picchu, which we were to begin the next morning.

Next: Machu Picchu or bust!

~Becky

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Photos

Tome Inca Kola!
Soy loco por la bebida!

Jamie´s friend
Senor drool-maker.