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Published: June 18th 2009
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Peru
19th May
We arrived in the Lima smog and spent a few rather uneventful days in preparation for our 20 hour bus ride to Cusco. The bus was great on first appearance but as the journey went on we discovered the air conditioning didn’t work and we were sitting on top of the bus’ radiator or engine. Suffice to say it was sweltering. I could hardly breathe and James got really sick and spent half the time in the corridor. To top it all off, the bus company had failed to inform the bus that I was a vegetarian and thus all I had to eat was very dry white rice.
When we eventually arrived in Cusco my cough returned and we were rapidly escorted to the doctors by a woman wearing a mask. James admitted to the doctor that he had had a bit of a fever on the bus and I informed him that I had had a cough for the last 4 months (well before swine flu had taken off). Blood pressure was taken (James’ was frighteningly low), prescriptions written, swine flu leaflets and warnings handed out and, at last, we were sent on
our way.
We took a taxi to the hostel and spent most of the day in bed as my stomach joined James’ in the sick stakes. We arose briefly for an unsuccessful attempt at eating some food and then went back to bed. We were soon awoken by a knock at the door. Annoyed at the interruption at this late hour (about 8pm) I went to the door and came face to face with two masked doctors asking for me. It took a while to persuade them that I still didn’t have swine flu and all I had was a cough since before the epidemic even started and eventually got rid of them although they promised to return every night until I left Cusco.
The next day, feeling slightly better, we went into town and struggled up and down Cusco’s steep streets to buy James a replacement sleeping liner and thermals. I think we also managed to convince the owner of the hostel that I did not have swine flu as the ‘late night’ doctors visits ceased(he had warned all the guests that there might be a case in the hostel and rather ashamedly approached us on the subject)
.
The Inca Trail Two days later, and almost fully recovered, we boarded a bus and shivered our way to the starting point of the trail all the while terrifying ourselves with estimations of the fitness levels of our travelling companions; two Argentines (father and daughter), two Americans (mother and daughter) and an Aussie.
The first days’ walking was easy with lots of stops and James and I arrived first to the campsite which surprised us both greatly and filled us with much needed confidence in our ability to complete the trail. There was typically far too much food and the night was cold but we climbed into our tent in good spirits excited although still a little concerned about the next day - the most difficult day.
Happily, the second day was even better than the first. We were both pleasantly surprised by our fitness levels really enjoying the physical challenge and again arrived at the campsite well before the rest of the group although admittedly we didn’t have to carry our sleeping bags and mats like the Argentineans and the Australian. We rewarded ourselves with a beer and again ate far too much and
had another cold night in the tent.
Day 4 was easier although the 1000 steps down to the last campsite were pretty tough, largely due to the monotony rather than to exhaustion or knee pain as expected. We were lucky to get to the campsite in daylight and thus see the magnificent ruins of Wiñay Wayna, a series of agricultural terraces used to experiment with growing crops at different altitudes. One of the Americans didn’t arrive until about three hours after we had all returned having to be carried down the last hour or so in the pitch black by one of the porters. Needless to say she suffered considerably and was not in the best of moods on her return. After our final and splendid dinner we thanked the porters and cook and bid them farewell before climbing back into our tents for our last cold night camping in the mountains.
4am the following morning we joined the long ‘queue’ hiking to Machu Pichu for sunrise. It was rather a frustrating walk as the sun was already coming up long before we arrived although, due to the mountainous terrain, we still had to wait an hour or
so at the ‘sun gate’ before the sun hit Machu Pichu. Once the sun had hit it and it was typically teeming with ant-like tourists we too descended down and had an interesting tour of the old city learning much more about how the Inca’s lived, their customs, their symbolism, their navigation techniques and calendar.
Tiredness took its toll however and we soon descended down to Aguas Callientes, the town where we would be spending our last night, in search of some home comforts. We were greeted by a large group of Amazonians carrying interesting looking spears and even larger mobs of police. Surprisingly all seemed calm and amiable and it wasn’t long until the Amazonians dispersed and only the police were left. We had heard about recent road blocks and rising tension between the government and the Amazonians who are trying to protect their land from exploitation in Lima however and thus steered clear. It was only two weeks later that we heard about huge riots with large numbers of innocent people killed.
After a farewell drink with our group we checked into an amazing hotel organised by our tour and far more expensive than anything
we would ever have considered and proceeded to have the best shower either of us could remember... ever. We also soaked our weary muscles in the hot springs the town is named after and had an early, warm night watching the mobs of police from our window.
The next day we had to check out by 9am and spent the day wondering around the expensive town waiting somewhat impatiently for our 5pm train back to Cusco. The train ride should have been beautiful but unfortunately it was dark and we were facing the wrong way so instead we read and tried to learn some Spanish.
Lake Titikaka We left earlyish the next morning from Cusco to Puno, a town bordering Lake Titikaka. Mistakenly I had thought the bus was a mere two hours but after several disconcerting cons and 8 hours later we finally arrived in the dark. We were lucky enough to find a nice cheap hostel with a comfortable bed, hot shower and TV and treated ourselves to a huge Chinese or ‘Chifa’ before hitting the sack.
The following day we took a boat to Isla Flotantes, a floating island made entirely from reeds
growing in the lake. By ‘made entirely’, I mean the ground, the huts, the boats and even some of the food. They call it reed banana and it tastes great. We listened to an interesting talk given by a lady who lives on the island on arrival and were pleasantly surprised by our comprehension. I bought a purse belonging to the lady who gave the talk (not for sale as such) and then we were rowed across to a neighbouring island on one of the beautiful reed boats. There we spent a pleasant few hours enjoying the calm and simplicity of island life before returning to Puno for a huge meal on the dock and a wander around the market.
Next morning we set off in a local mini bus for the frontera (border town) with Bolivia.
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