White Water Rafting!

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Update from Jack:

Today we got picked up early and went white water rafting! Rafting is very popular in Cusco because of the close proximity to the Urubamba River, which carved out the Sacred Valley that surrounds Machu Picchu. We se up our trip through the company that was recommended by the hostel, and they were really great. We drove an hour or two out of Cusco with a small busload of other tourists (3 from the UK, 1 from France) and several guides. The Frenchman and we three Yankees went with a guide named Cèsar ("like the salad," he explained) and the Brits went with Diego (a Chileno), while the enthusiastic (but not English speaking) Go-Go manned the safety kayak. We suited up in extremely fashionable skin-tight wetsuits (mine had a big hole in the seat, luckily I remembered my swim trunks) and felt like low-rent superheroes. Cesar went through a quick but thorough safety demonstration, then we got in a very calm part of the river so we could practice responding to his commands. Soon enough we were plowing through waves and tumbling over rocks and shouting and laughing and having a grand old time. Never mind that this is the dry season, so the rapids were only rated I, II and III+ (IV through VI is the hard stuff), it was more than enough to get our blood and adrenaline pumping. After each round of challenges we all turned inward and high-fived out paddles together in celebration. And you do feel like celebrating when you've pulled your raft out of the way of an approaching rock or over a little waterfall! For some reason, Cesar thought it would be cool to "surf" in certain areas by commanding us all to jump to the front of the boat, which plowed my face into the freezing cold rapids. He assured us it would be cool, and maybe it was to an observer, but for me it was mostly my eyes and mouth being pummeled by a river. After a few times I shouted out "No me gusta!" ("I don't like it!") and we all scrambled, gasping, back to our seats, only to see Cesar doubled over laughing. Whether he was laughing at my use of Spanish, or the number of times we allowed him to direct my face into a river, is a mystery that I was happy to leave unsolved. When he asked me what I thought of the move I told him that I'm pretty sure a fish kissed me, and that was the best part. Silver lining, you know.

Aside from the mouthsfull of lake water, the occasional splashing around was really nice. The high-altitude hot sun was a pleasant counterpart to the freezing cold glacial river, and we kept a pretty comfy balance. In between areas of rapids we drifted on the lazy river and enjoyed the untouched beauty of the mountains around us. I pointed out the strange distribution of volcanic, sedimentary, and occasional conglomerate rocks that lined the river, and we watched a few birds and sheep braving the steep banks. We also noticed huge swaths of red clay in the rocks next to the river, which we later learned was the stuff they make their roof tiles out of. ( You know those curved red tiles in Spanish-influenced architecture?) We also were entertained by Cesar and Diego arguing over whose country invented the pisco sour (apparently a point of debate between Peru and Chile). The weather was perfect, the company was great, and we got a little excitement along with our lounging on the river. We were very happy!

When we were reaching the end of our section of the river we were highly motivated by the promise of lunch at the end. We chanted "AL-mu-ER-zo," which means "lunch," to keep our paddling in time. Finally we turned the corner and saw the van that dropped us off waiting to pick us up, with the driver grilling chicken and preparing lunch. When Cesar asked for help pulling in the raft I realized how hard I'd been working my arms with all that paddling and almost dropped the thing on the Frenchman. Once we were landed we peeled off our wetsuits and sat down to a plain but filling lunch of chicken and rice. Soon afterward the guides had all the gear packed up and we all flopped into the van. Most people fell asleep and the rest of us watched the early evening landscape go by while the guides played a Madonna mega mix twice through. I did not know that macho outdoors-types liked Madonna that much, but I guess in Peru they do.

I'm particularly proud of us for acclimating to the altitude enough that we could do some fairly strenuous physical exercise. Still, we were exhausted by the end. Back in Cusco we decided to retire early to our hostel for reading and sleeping in preparation for the big Sacred Valley/Machu Picchu trip tomorrow. It was a great day!

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