Mendoza to Santiago to Lima to Cuzco...all in a week!

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Hello everybody from Cuzco, which in the Inca Language translates at "the belly button of Mother Earth" (apparently!).

It's been a manic couple of weeks for yours truly (no surprises there), involving a scenic bus journey through the Andes from Mendoza, a whistle stop return to Santiago, a 5 hour wait at an airport shrouded in fog, a quick visit to Lima, and finally arriving in Cuzco, where the air is so thin, it literally takes your breath away!

The bus ride from Mendoza to Santiago was a real experience. I had been told that the mountain pass through the Andes to Santiago had been closed for a number of days due to heavy snow. I was beginning to panic slightly as my bus ride to Santiago was on 24th June, and my flight to Lima was on the 26th, so I wasn't giving myself much leeway if I got stranded because of the weather. I was a relieved man when I rocked up to the Tur-Bus stand in Mendoza at 8am to be told that the bus was definitely going and that the mountain road was open.

The buses in Argentina are something else. They are so luxurious! Foot rests, cushions for your head, and a steward service coming round with hot drinks and biccies! I had a seat right at the front of the bus, so I had brilliant views out of two windows as the bus winded it's way up to the Andes. After around 5 hours the landscape had changed from dry rocky desert to snowy mountain ranges. I don't know if there is a top-ten scenic bus journies book, but this route would surely be in there. You are just left gawping as you pass mountain after mountain along a road cutting straight through the middle of the snowy tundra. Then suddenly we crawled to a stop. I looked ahead and as far as I could see, there were lorries, buses and cars all stranded in a long thin line, with their owners out of their cars and scratching their heads. An official looking man climbed onto our bus to inform us that there had been more snow and the road was currently closed. Shouts of derision from the passengers followed - there were a lot of Chileans on the bus who were obviously desperate to get home! There followed a three hour wait while we waited for news- would we have to go back to Mendoza or would the Argentinian transport/snow police be able to cut a swarth through the snow-laden road ahead? Luckily we stopped near a little cafe, and the owner was doing a roaring trade in lomitos (steak sandwiches in french bread)! He must love it when the road gets closed - there were around 50 people on our bus alone munching through their lomitos! Then there was movement ahead in traffic...alleluhiah, the road was clear!! The whole bus burst into cheers and clapping!! It was as if Chile had just won the World Cup!! There was one more big cheer from the partisan crowd when we crossed the Argentine/Chile border, and a chorus of "CHI CHI CHI, LE LE LE!!", and then it was an uneventful journey back down the mountains to Santiago.

I was relieved to have got back to Santiago ahead of my flight to Lima. I stayed at The Happy House hostel in Barrio Brasil, the same place I was at when I first arrived in South America back in April. The breakfast there is fantastic compared to the usual bread, jam and instant coffee you usually get served up in South American hostels. Muesli, yoghurt, fresh fruit, proper coffee and to top it all off, a ham and cheese toastie! That's what I call a breakfast!

I had a day to kill in Santiago, so I had a wander along the river (Rio Mapocho) and around the Parque Metropolitano. There is a cable car ride over the park that takes you to the summit of Cerro San Christòbal and the big statue of Mary. The cable car ride lasts for ages and is quite hairy as it rises high over the trees below. The little capsules you climb into are called "The Eggs of Death" by the locals apparently. You can see why - I was around 80 metres in the air and my door was only half closed!!!! The views over Santiago were impressive though, and as it was such a clear day I had a great view of the mountains surrounding the city too. I finished the day off by treating myself to a meal in Las Vegas Gordas, a nice little parrilllada near my hostel - a mixed kebab of steak, chicken and prawns!!! Yummy!

The flight to Lima the following day wasn't as straight forward as I hoped. Santiago airport was completely enveloped in a thick shroud of fog when I got there. The view out of the departure gate window was one of never ending grey - I couldn't even see as far as the planes waiting on the nearby tarmac. We ended up taking off 5 hours late - not too bad, and I did get a chance to finish my book! I met a nice couple on the plane - Hayden and Rachael from St Albans who were on a 3 month sabbatical. We ended up sharing a taxi to the hostel I had booked in Miraflores, a suburb of Lima right on the sea front. The Loki Hostel was a cool place to stay, with a nice bar and roof terrace, complete with pool table and table football game. I found out that Hayden was a West Ham season ticket holder, so we ended up talking football for most of our first night along another Hammers fan we met at the bar called Liam. Poor Rachael!!

I went out for a recce around central Lima the following day. I must admit though, at this stage in my trip one big city looks much like any other. I went on a guided tour of the Catedral de Lima though, which houses the coffin of Francisco Pizarro, the Spanish conquistador who founded Lima in 1535. The Plaza del Armes (the main square in town) was a hubbub of activity, with a nice bronze fountain in the centre. I also visited the Monesterio de San Francisco, famous for its catacombs and large collection of antique books, some dating back to the Spanish conquest. The strangest exhibit in the place though were the bone filled crypts - the archaelogists obviously had a sense of humour - they have arranged the skulls and bones discovered there into pretty flower-shaped patterns!!

I had one more day in Lima before heading off to Cusco. I decided to take a guided tour to one of the shanty towns on the outskirts of Miraflores. It was a worthwhile experience, and it certainly made me feel very humble as I walked around the flimsy houses surrounded by smelly rubbish and flea-ridden dogs. The site itself was perched on a hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean, with hundreds and hundreds of little houses built into the rock. These places, called pueblos jóvenes in Spanish are filled with people from all over the country coming to Lima in the hope of a better life, with little or no money. There is no state system in place so these people get no hand outs from the government - they have to rely on street selling and begging to get out of the situation they find themsleves in. It's all pretty depressing, as to me it seemed like the Peruvians of Spanish origin were doing very well for themselves thank you, while the indigenous Indian population formed this growing underclass living in abject poverty. The only way out of course is through education, and it was heartening to see 3 different schools in the vicinity that catered for the kids living in the slums. I spoke to a few of the locals while I was there, in my stuttering Spanish and also with the help of my guide Alberto. They were optimistic about the future, which was slightly surprising. They had a supply of fresh water now, and also electricity to most homes. They have a committee to deal with the needs of the community, and they hope to be in a position to have a legal right to the land in the future (at the moment the government could come in and tear the whole place down at anytime). In the end I came away feeling quite uplifted and inspired by the indomitable nature of the human spirit - these people had hardly anything, but as long as there was a kernal of hope for a better life, they continued to smile and remain upbeat about their future.

I arrived in Cuzco the next day to bright sunshine and blue skies. A nice change from the grey smog that hovered over Lima. I had forgetten what it felt like to feel the sun on my face! I got chatting to a nice couple from Ireland who shared a taxi with me to Lima airport from the hostel that morning, and as luck would have it they were staying at the same hostel as me in Cuzco. John and Ruth had been on a similar trip to me, travelling through China, India, Australia and New Zealand before reaching South America, and had been on the road for over ten months too. We hit it off right away and went out for an explore around Cuzco that afternoon, and a slap up meal in a posh restaurant in the evening.

Cuzco is an amazing place - 3,326 metres above sea level and sprawling out across the surrounding hill. Lots of colonial architecture, cobbled little streets and more tourist shops than you can shake a stick at. The air is very thin up here though, and just walking uphill for a few minutes leaves you gasping for breath. Altitude sickness affects almost everyone in some capacity, with symptoms ranging from headaches and nausea to vomiting and loss of appetite. Personally I just found myself out of breath a lot and suffering the odd headache. I was certainly pleased I had given myself three days to acclimatise before heading off on the Inca Trail.

I had a fun night out the following night with John and Ruth, along with another couple of Irish girls, two sisters called Fiona and Rose. A nice meal in a traditional Inca restaurant (I ate Alpaca, which is a small llama!) was followed by the inevitable few drinks in one of Cuzco's Irish bars, Paddy O'Flaherty's! A good craic was had.

Unfortunately that night, and all of the following morning I was really ill. Vomiting and diahorrea are not the best preparation ahead of a 49km trek, and Javier, the owner of the Recoleta hostel where I was staying, very kindly called out a doctor to see me. Maybe I was feeling a bit over confident after two days at high altitude, but I certainly regretted my night out the previous evening! The doc gave me some pills for my stomach, some painkillers and 2 litres of some salt replacement drink that tasted foul, and was good enough to accompany me to the pharmacy to ensure I got the right stuff. I spent the rest of the day, but managed to pop down to the offices of SAS (the tour company I was doing the trek with - not the crack army force!) that evening for a pep talk ahead of the Inca Trek the following day. Our guide Hilbert told the 15 of us going that it will be tough - 2 days continuously uphill, up to 4,200 metres above sea level, then 2 days downhill gradually down steep stone steps. Even though I felt like death that evening I was determined to do it. I went to bed that night hoping that when I woke at 5am the following morning that I would be fit enough to head off to Machu Picchu!

That story deserves it's own blog chapter though!

To be continued.....!

Doogs

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