So, let's see. It's Halloween and I'm sitting in the Lima airport, having arrived here earlier today from Cuzco, awaiting my flight to Buenos Aires tomorrow morning! Because I'm cheap and not all that in love with Lima, I've decided to just wait it out here in the airport, rather than heading into town, getting a hostel for a few hours, and then coming back out here to fly. Which means I've got 13 hours on my hands until my flight takes off... ample time to catch up on what I've been doing!
Everything I wrote up to this point took you to the end of our 4-day trek on the Santa Cruz trail in Huaraz, Perú. Upon returning from that trek, the three of us killed a few days in Huaraz itself. Friday, the first full day back in town, was spent lazily, as would be expected. The sun came back out after the rains of the previous day, so we spent a good portion of the day up on the rooftop terrace reading in the sunshine. Saturday we contemplated going for a hike to Laguna Churup, but alas, when we wandered out of our hostel to stock up on food, we came across tons of costumed children lined up in the street, assembling for a parade. Well, since parades are awesome and the kids were super cute, we decided to stick around for the day and see what all the hubbub was about. Turns out that it was some kind of children's celebration, timed in conjunction with the first annual agroindustrial fair in the city of Huaraz. It made the center of town packed, so it was fun to wander around. That evening, at a pizza joint, we ran into Megan, a girl we met at our hostel, and we ended up having dinner together, after which she invited us to the bar she worked at for a "last night in Huaraz" celebration (she had been volunteering there for a month and was leaving town the next day). The bar, called 13 Buhos (13 Owls) was a small little place on the second story above a discoteca where the owners brewed their own beer and a giant set of Jenga blocks was available for a good time. Consequently, we played quite a few rounds of Jenga while we sipped on some pretty tasty homemade ales, and we gathered a crowd around us, so our Jenga-playing group got bigger every time.
At one point, I saw a couple guys at the bar eyeing our game, and since we were about to start a new one, I invited them to join us. They declined to play, but we chatted for a while anyway, and it turned out that they were on the coaching staff for the local fútbol team (the head coach and an assistant trainer), who just happened to have a game the next day. All I had to do was mention that I loved fútbol and then what did I find in my hand but two free tickets to the match. Megan had told us about it at dinner and we definitely wanted to go, so it was a great stroke of luck to have two tickets handed to me, gratis. All we had to do the next day was buy one more ticket and we were home free! That turned out to be pretty easy, and we had nice seats on the second level of the west side of the stadium in the shade. We were surrounded by some very passionate fans, and while the match itself wasn't of the highest quality, the men shouting all around us more than made up for that. The visiting team was from Lima, and I swear they were more actors than fútbolistas...every time they were touched, even just the tiniest little bump, they went down to the ground, rolling around clutching at (fake) injuries and trying to get a call. The delays caused by these displays got longer as the match went on, and at one point the fans got so fed up with it, and with the refs, that they started throwing food and trash onto the field (particularly memorable were a chicken wing and a half-eat apple). From this point on, one of the men behind us started heckling like it was his job, and though he only had three or four phrases that he repeated, he had some choice insults (like "grow a pair, or I'll lend you one of mine"). All told, the game was a tie, but it was as crazy as we had hoped it would be.
Monday we finally motivated ourselves to hike to Churup, although Forrest stayed behind, waylayed by a touchy stomach. Travis and I, along with Lily, who we met a breakfast, set out on our journey kinda late in the morning. We took a colectivo partway up to the trailhead and then hoofed it the rest of the way. The day was cloudy and as we arrived at the beginning of the trail to Churup, we saw a couple women hastily making their way down. They told us that it was really cold and windy and raining up at the top, and they'd decided to turn around because of it. If any of us were apprehensive about this report, we didn't say anything, and the three of us set out up a steep trail towards the lake. Partway up, we stopped for lunch, and I didn't hike much longer before I decided to turn around. Since we'd gotten a late start and still had to make it back down to a town early enough to catch a ride back to Huaraz, and since my knee was acting up again, I reckoned I wouldn't make it to the top and should start heading down because I would be slow on the descent. Travis and Lily continued upwards, but said they would turn around soon. It took me a bit over an hour to get down, and I ended up waiting at the windy trailhead for about 45 minutes before Travis and Lily joined me. They did make it all the way up in about half an hour more, and said the lake was beautiful and the weather was okay. We decided to hurry down, as much to escape some ominous clouds as to keep to our rough time schedule, but on our way we got sandwiched by a couple old ladies herding their sheep and cows down from the heights. They kept a pretty good pace, but whenever one of their animals started to slow, the women would make a whooshing sound like a whip and the critter would speed up again. If an animal stopped altogether or started going the wrong way, the women wouldn't hesitate in picking up fist-sized or larger rocks and hurling them at the animal's haunches, putting their full body weight into the throw. They had good aim, and were generally pretty effective in their efforts. After a while, we parted ways, but it was an interesting and entertaining experience to be sure.
Monday night, Forrest, Travis, and I hopped on a bus to Lima, where we arrived at 5 in the morning and headed to the airport for a short hopper flight to Cuzco. Though we were all curious about the bus ride from Lima to the Inca capital (21 hours long and purportedly very curvy) we decided we'd rather save the time and energy and fly to our next destination. When we finally arrived, it was sunny and warm, and the taxi driver that took us to our hostel was the most talkative and tour-guide-like I've ever had. We stayed at Pariwana, the sister hostel to the one in Lima where we first all crossed paths, and after we got settled, we set out to wander the center of town. We stumbled upon a big market with everything from textiles to meat to bread to produce, and part of it was even packed with food stands. Curious and hungry, we sat down at one of the counters, where a very smiley woman made us the most delicious meal ever. It was called mixto, cost S/.4 (probably $1.50) and consisted of a pile of rice over a bed of french fries, topped with avocado, fried bananas, and ham, with a fresh-chopped onion, cucumber, and tomato salad on the side. I pawned my ham off on Travis, who was actually the first one to order the dish, and we all gorged ourselves till there was no more room. YUM. To fend off our pending food comas, we walked around more of the town, wandering through the Plaza de Armas and into a neighborhood of cobblestone streets and thick stone walls that seemed to be the "ritziest" (and most touristy) part of town.
Once we tired of wandering, we headed back to Pariwana, where we sat in the bar and planned what to do with our next few days. We decided to go for a two- or three-day trek in the Lares area, instead of the more well-known Inca Trail or Salkantay Loop, before hitting up Machu Picchu, and resorted to doing the rest of the planning the next day. We made good use of the South American Explorers house, where a wealth of maps and people ready to answer questions are available to help you plan your adventures throughout Perú. Logistics nailed down, it was time for food shopping, so we returned to the market to pick up the usual (bread, cheese, avocados, apples, bananas, nuts, and dried apricots) as well as try another market meal. This time we went for a different food counter, and were served a tasty lentil-potato something with rice, salad, and trout. The guys split the fish, and we again stuffed ourselves till bursting. At about 5 that afternoon, we hopped into a colectivo that took us to Calca, in the Sacred Valley, from which we took another one up into the mountains to Lares, a little town known for its mineral hot springs. By the time we arrived in Lares, it was dark, and so we walked into the first hostel we saw and bargained our way into a room. Next came a little dinner, and although we had been tired from the drive, the food rejuvenated us, so we decided to head to the hot springs to see about a nighttime soak (actually, Travis practically dragged me and Forrest out the door, but we were glad once we got going). Our directions were typically vague, so we took a wrong turn at first, but after backtracking, we found the right road, and wandered our way to the pools. By the time we got there, the guards informed us that there were only about 20 minutes of swim time left, and asked if we'd come back tomorrow. As we talked the idea over, they revoked that idea and said they'd let us in tonight if we only stayed for an hour. This was more than enough time for us, and after some more bargaining (the hostel owner told us a cheaper price than the guards did), we were let into the hot springs. There were several pools in the complex, and we chose the warmest one (warm, but not hot) for a soak. We didn't stay long, but left relaxed and glad of our adventure.
It turned out to be a good thing that we'd located the hot springs the night before, because the beginning of our trek the next morning took us right past the pools. Stopping occasionally to ask for directions from passers-by on the road, we hiked our way from Lares to Concani, from which point we climbed our first pass up to 4200 m (13,780 ft), the green scenery studded by turquoise lakes, sprawling waterfalls, and llama herds. It was not far into the climb that my camera battery died, and upon looking for my replacement, I realized that I had left it (and the charger) in my backpack in Pariwana's storage in Cuzco. So much for picture taking. Forrest and Travis were nice enough to snap a few extra shots for me, since I could no longer be the fanatical photographer, but it was a nice way to force me to just enjoy where I was without the preoccupation of making sure it was well documented. We got to the top of the pass late, around 4:30 pm, and stayed on top a short time before heading down into the next valley, trying to get as far down as we could before nightfall. We made good progress, and camped not far from the next town, Quishuarani, which was slated to be our goal for the first day. The stars were out, the night was not as cold as we expected, and we awoke early with the sun, ready for the next day of hiking. We set out around 9 am, and bagged our second pass (again, 4200 m) shortly after 1. This one was peppered by false summits, and so when we finally reached the top, we were glad of the achievement. The views from the trail, which followed near the top of a ridge for quite a ways, were incredible; turquoise lakes set in green hillsides that rushed up to meet icy blue glaciers beneath rocky, snow-capped peaks. In addition to the terrain near at hand, we could see lots more mountains in the distance in all directions, making for some beautiful surroundings. Again, we made good progress on the way down on the second day, and overshot our projected campsite by a good distance. We had the energy to keep going, so we figured, "why not?" The third day, we awoke to a steady rain, which continued off and on throughout the day. We finished our trek in Huaran around midday, and caught a series of colectivos to Urubamba and then Ollantaytambo, from where we'd take a night train to Machu Picchu.
Upon arriving in Ollantaytambo, we were greeted by a large crowd of people in the central square, gathered around a stage sporting a banner that read "Happy 137th Anniversary." We're still not sure what anniversary they were celebrating, but the town did put on quite a party. We hung out in a restaurant for a couple hours, eating lunch and watching some of the Panamerican Games broadcast from Guadalajara. Our next goal for the afternoon was to find a place to print out our train tickets, which turned out to be more of a hunt than expected, owing to the fact that most of the locutorios were closed for the celebration. We finally found one that was open, and took our time printing tickets and checking emails, since we still had hours until our train was due to depart. We wandered outside and stationed ourselves on the fringe of the crowd to observe the goings-on, which turned into live traditional music by an energetic band from Cuzco after dark. Though the plaza was relatively deserted when it was still light outside, dusk brought people out of the woodwork, and the street began to fill up with partygoers enjoying the live music. Several people lugged out cases of beer and sold them, along with cups, on the street. Of course, as the night went on, more than a few people were already drunk, and it was pretty funny to watch them try to buy more alcohol from the vendors or dance with random ladies around them. We were enjoying ourselves until it started to suddenly rain, at which point we decided to make a dash for the train station and shelter. Turns out there was no shelter to be had, as the train station itself consisted of a gate and the train tracks. So we stood in the drizzle until they let us load into our coach, where we sat reading and dozing off until we arrived in Aguas Calientes, the launching pad for all Machu Picchu adventures. We followed the throng of train riders uphill through the town and waved off numerous invitations to various hostels and restaurants. We had the idea that we wanted to hike partway up to the ruins and then spend the night, so I eventually just started asking for directions to the trail. We finally made our way there (in the opposite direction of where we'd initially gone) and made it to the Puente Ruinas, where a guard controlled access to the road and footpath up the mountain. He turned us around, saying we couldn't start hiking until 4 that morning, and directed us to a campground a minute's walk back up the road. We went for it, because at that point it was late and dark and we were tired, and crawled into our humid, still-damp tent for some rest.
We awoke lazily and didn't feel any rush to get up to the ruins, so we cooked our usual oatmeal and apple breakfast, prepared our daypacks (we left our big backpacks in the tent where we camped), and set out for Machu Picchu. The footpath up to the ruins was essentially a steep set of stone stairs that straightlined the ascent, while the road wound through a series of switchbacks. The hike was hot and humid, and we realized that our weeks spent at altitude really did make a difference: we got to the top in 35 minutes, when we'd been told it would take an hour (Aguas Calientes is at 2040 m/6693 ft and Machu Picchu is at 2470 m/8104 ft). Sweaty and triumphant, we walked into Machu Picchu, where we spent the majority of the day wandering around and lazing about. It was one of the most surreal feelings I've had, to be standing there and looking at the place that I'd seen so many times before in photos. I had a couple giddy moments of feeling like a kid in a candy shop. We didn't pay for a tour, but we found a couple groups that we tagged along with, and so we heard bits and pieces of the guides' explanations of various parts of the ruins. One of the most interesting things I heard was that the city was built in about 17 years, and it was used as a way for people to pay their taxes during the days of the Inca empire. There's no real idea of how many people contributed to the site's construction, but it must have been in the thousands, to do so much work so quickly. A lot of the walls had been reconstructed since the days of the Inca, and the difference was blatantly obvious: the Inca's smooth, precisely-fitted and mortarless walls were in sharp contrast with the chunky, haphazard post-Inca work. Although my camera battery was mostly dead, Travis had the brilliant idea of trying to warm it up against my skin and then seeing if that gave it enough life to get a picture or two. This worked well enough, and I took the battery out of the camera whenever I wasn't using it in the hopes of conserving a bit more of that last energy. I didn't snap away hundreds of pictures of the place, which I would've done with a full battery, but I did manage a few of the prize shots - proof that I was there.
Around 2:30, once we'd had our fill of Machu Picchu, we decided to hike back down, and not a moment too soon; about halfway back to our campsite it started to rain. Hard. It had let up by the time we got back to the tent, but we gathered up our belongings and stashed under the small awning over the building that housed the bathrooms. While Travis and Forrest relaxed, I joined a rainy, slippery game of volleyball with some other campers, which turned out to be a lot of fun. We had no net, so we set up shoes and shirts to roughly delineate a court, and had a great time arguing about whether or not balls landed in, out, or in the "net." Partway through our game, we saw a double rainbow soaring from one side of the canyon to the other, which I'd hoped to see since the rain started with the sun still out. After a while, we tired of our game and all retreated to the mens' bathroom, the only one open, to dry off, hide from the rain, and make some dinner. By the time the three of us started eating, the rain had stopped, so we ate quickly, packed up, and took advantage of the chance to walk back to the train station without getting soaked. We made it back undrenched, but were not so lucky upon our arrival in Ollantaytambo. Luckily, not far up the road from the train station, we came across a colectivo offering to take us all the way back to Cuzco, an opportunity we jumped at. An hour and a half later, we were dropped off about a block away from Pariwana, and we scampered inside to find beds for the night. Once we settled in and dried off, we headed to the bar again, where a live band had just finished playing and dance music was pumping from the speakers. We ran into a few friends there and chatted for a while before falling sleepily into bed.
This morning, I was in Cuzco, taking a slow morning, a luxuriously warm shower, and one last stroll around the town before getting on my plane to take me back here, to Lima. I left Pariwana with not much time to spare in getting to the airport, but my taxi driver understood the hurry and drove quickly. Come to find out, when I check in, that my flight was delayed, so I was in no danger of missing the plane. All told, we took off an hour later than scheduled, and I really appreciated that I wasn't trying to connect to a flight any time soon, so the delay didn't throw any kind of monkey wrench into my travel plans.
Though I'm a bit sad to leave Perú and the good friends I made in Travis and Forrest over the past couple weeks, I am very much looking forward to being in Argentina, where new friends await me, as well as a more stationary, routined life (at least during my CELTA class). I've got a bit less than a week before the course starts, which I'll utilize to relax and get the lay of the land. So, until Buenos Aires, hasta luego!
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