Sasark you really have this place nailed. Friends are at the front of the building and found it noisy. We are at the back and it is deadly silent. The vendors are pretty aggressive aren't they. There are so many children involved in the selling. Our hotel host in Lima told us that in Peru if you don't go, go, go you won't survive. He went to school in California and found it sleepy compared to here.

Oh I am glad you have a good room! I thought about asking to change rooms, but decided it was too much hassle and just slept with earplugs. It did get a bit better after the weekend, at least.

And yeah, the selling is a little crazy. I had heard about that before coming, but it was more intense than I was expecting.

--------------------
Monday, Nov. 28
=============

For my second day in Cusco, I decided to visit some of the ruins around town. I took a taxi to Tambomachay, the farthest of the sites, figuring I would walk back and see all the others along the way. This was a suggestion from the Lonely Planet Guidebook, which had no map of the area, leaving me with the idea that the route would be obvious.

The first two sites are close together. So I saw Tambomachay, then walked across the street to Pukapukara. These were interesting -- though after Machu Picchu, a little underwhelming. I do think they are worth visiting, but a better plan might be to visit them prior to Machu Picchu.

The walk back was long and hot. Unfortunately, I also got turned around -- I came to a turn in the road with a sign saying to turn right for Sacsayhuamán. My recollection from the initial drive was that we had taken no turns, but I ended up following the sign's direction. I figured out later that both routes would have gotten me to Sacsayhuamán, but the one I took bypassed Q'enqo, which was disappointing (though I would see it later in the trip).

At this point, I realized I was a lot more worn out than I would normally be after a walk of that duration (somewhere between 90 minutes and two hours). I'd brought altitude medication with me to Cusco, but for a variety of reasons I had not yet taken it. On this afternoon, I decided I probably *should* take it. (But then later I was concerned that the warning label said to avoid direct sunlight -- concerned because I was in such an incredibly sunny place and had already suburned once. I ended up not taking it at all, which was probably a mistake, as I never felt fully acclimatized, but oh well.)

Anyway, I arrived at Sacsayhuamán, and unfortunately the visit didn't begin all that well. I asked a question of someone working in the office near where you enter the site, and the attendant looked at me with a mixture of irration and fatigue, and his response was not very pleasant. I mention this only because, of the people I met in Cusco, most were friendly, but a significant number seemed jaded, which I interpreted to mean that they get sick of tourists. I used to live in a place that was overly crowded with tourists, so I can understand getting tired of crowds, questions, etc. But at the same time, this was one of the things (along with the aggressive vendors) that made Cusco less enjoyable than other places I visited.

In any event, once inside the site, I assumed I wouldn't stay too long because I was tired. But while I was exploring, a guy came up and tried to sell me some carvings. I declined, but he stayed and began chatting with me about the site. He offered to show me one thing, then ended up giving me an informal tour, which was pretty fun. I enjoyed seeing the giant stones that were part of the structure, and its incredibly tall doorways. When we were done, the guide/artist seemed quite insistent that I buy one of his carvings. I gave him 20 soles for a tip and offered to buy a carving for some amount less than he wanted. He seemed offended, so I told him I didn't have room in my luggage for the carvings, and upped the tip to 40 soles, which seemed to make him happy. All in all, I guess it was good that I ran into this guy, because he did tell me interesting things about Sacsayhuamán, but this was the moment when I realized I was getting sick of vendors acting as though I had some obligation to buy their wares.

After that, I walked back to town and just wandered around for a while. I bought a small lemon pie with meringue from a bake-shop window on Calle Santa Catalina Ancha. I think it cost only 3 soles, and it was so good!

Eventually I came to the Qorikancha, which I had not been planning to see that day, but a freelance guide talked me into coming inside. The guide was just OK -- a few times he told me things that didn't really jibe with the placards -- but the site itself was cool. I'd been reading a book that talked a lot about this site, so it was neat to be in a place where I actually knew some details about its history and significance. The stonework in the building is beautiful, and a placard points out one small spot where the building sustained minor earthquake damage (while Spanish buildings were falling all around it). The Qorikancha also has two paintings by a contemporary artist that are quite beautiful. One shows the Milky Way and describes how the Inca had names for the dark shapes in the sky (as opposed to naming only constellations of stars).

After the Qorikancha, it was still pretty early for dinner (by Perú standards), but I was starving. I had not brought my guidebook with me, so I wasn't sure what my best bets for vegetarian foods would be. I wandered into a place called the Muse, which is near the Plaza de Armas, but the guy at the door seemed irritated by my flawed Spanish, so I made some excuse and left. I began walking down some side streets, got a little lost, and ended up coming back and doing something very obvious -- dining at a restaurant along the Plaza de Armas, at a table on the second-floor balcony.

The meal was just OK, and the restaurant (called La Retama) was pretty empty most of the night, but the evening was fun. Sitting in the small balcony, and having some nice conversation with the server -- it was very relaxing. Also, partway through the evening, some musicians and dancers came to perform. It was briefly annoying when they pushed me to buy their CD, but on the upside, it was cool when they pulled me out of my seat to dance. Later, the restaurant had a huge array of desserts spread out on a cart, and I sampled quite a few. I followed my server's advice and chose one that was like a blue-corn pudding -- very tasty. After the long day of tramping around, this was a nice way to end the day.

Sasark I think those musicians came to our restaurant as well last night. We bought a CD. We always do and then never listen to them again.

And one lady followed us 3/4 of the way around the square trying to get us into her restaurant. After that performance her place was the last place we were going.

Boy they must really be rolling their eyes at our Spanish.

Oh, that's funny! Yeah, I am exactly the same with some of CDs that I've bought when traveling. Recently I decided I just have too much stuff and am trying to stop acquiring things I don't want.

And yes, I don't understand restaurants that have representatives stationed outside trying to entice people inside. The fact that they have to have a solicitation effort makes me assume that the place probably isn't that great.

Did you have a good meal?

---------------------------------
Tuesday, Nov. 29, Cusco
====================

This was my last chance to see the market in Pisac (I was leaving the Sacred Valley early Thursday), but I found that once again, I just didn't feel like the excursion -- after my ruin-intensive afternoon the day before, I wasn't psyched for the Pisac ruins, and I couldn't muster much enthusiasm for buying stuff at the market, or fending off vendors. I suspected that later I might regret having skipped it, but I decided to do what I felt like.

I still had a number of in-town sites on my list to see, so I decided to visit these, starting with la Iglesia de la Compañía de Jesús. This church was nice -- and I am pretty sure it was here that my guide pointed out local touches in the altarpiece, including images of corn and avocado in the trim. I also got some good photos of the Plaza de Armas from one of the church's upper levels.

Afterward I walked up to San Blas and visited the church there. This church was a lot smaller than others I'd seen, but it was pretty, and the carved pulpit was impressive. I had decided to go ahead and use a freelance guide, and this was a mistake -- he seemed a little sketchy and, toward the end of the tour, he led me outside. I followed, assuming we were going to look at something interesting on the church grounds. Instead, the guide led me into a pricy gift shop where he tried to interest me in buying pottery. So... that was the end of that tour.

After leaving the church, I walked uphill a bit farther, then gradually made my way back in the direction of the Plaza de Armas, stopping in at a few art galleries along the way. One of these had beautiful stylized paintings of llamas. I also stopped at the same bakery window I had visited the day before. This time I bought a passionfruit mousse, which was unique and refreshing.

Next I headed for El Convento de la Merced. The friendly woman at the door complimented my hat and insisted on giving me the student rate, which was nice. There was no guide here, so I just strolled around at a leisurely pace, enjoying the tranquil surroundings. Sadly, at first I could not find the room where the church's spectacular monstrance is located, and there appeared to be no one around to ask. I did see a couple of private tours going on, so I hung about and eventually when I retraced a path I'd taken earlier, I found that a room which previously had been locked was open, with a tour group inside... I went in and found the monstrance, which was really ornate, decorated with diamonds, rubies, and pearls.

Unfortunately the chapel was not open at this time of day (I think it's open only in the morning).

At this point, I decided to walk around and explore some of the other neighborhoods mentioned in my guidebook. I went by the Plaza San Francisco, making a small detour down Meson de la Estrella to find a vegetarian empañada. The plaza was really pleasant -- filled with dogs playing and local people relaxing. It seemed 100% more down to earth than the Plaza de Armas, and I wondered if I should have stayed closer to this area.

Afterward I walked through a huge stone archway toward the Mercado Central de San Pedro, a market where people buy and sell just about everything, it seems. This place was kind of a vegetarian's nightmare -- around every other corner was the corpse of some poor, stiff individual. But I managed OK. It was fun to see booths where dozens of different types of potatos were sold, or many types of cheese, nuts, and bread. In addition to food, there were also vats of cooking oil, a constellation of household products, and clothes (and ladies hard at work, hunched over tiny sewing machines). Quite a few juice bars tempted me to sit down for a refreshing drink, so I had a mango-and-leche juice -- delicious! Before leaving, I also had my first chicha (a blue-corn drink).

I decided to walk back via Calle Nueva, a busy commercial street. It was fun seeing all the different shops, which sell everything from stoves to underwear.

Next I went by el Palacio de Justicia, a striking white building along Avenido El Sol, then up Calle Loreto, a long pedestrian-only street with tall Incan walls on either side. In the near-dark, with the golden lights of the plaza twinkling in the distance, the walkway felt completely different from anyplace I'd ever been.

For dinner, I headed to Aldea Yanapay, which is supposed to have good vegetarian options. The restaurant is on a second floor along Calle Ruinas, and decorated with colorful child-oriented stuff, including large plush animals seated in many of the chairs. The meal -- risotto -- was just OK, but my server was nice. After learning I was from the U.S., he showed me a map of the states that he carries folded up in his wallet, with certain states marked with Xs. He explained that he collects state quarters and marks off on his map each state for which he has a quarter. I wished I could have helped with his collection, but I had no American money with me. Still, he seemed pleased when I told him that I too collect state quarters.

It was pouring rain when I left the restaurant, so I headed back to La Piccola Locanda, thinking about how I would spend my last day in Cusco.

Sasark - did we have a good meal? We are all following your report so three of us had that spicy, cheesy potato (I can't find the name above ... Hua?). Great potato, great cheese but just a touch spicy for me though not the others.

that mango and leche drink sounds marvelous, sasark!

Cold is joking about me rafting today, lol... I went rafting on my trip to Peru last April for my big birthday, a solo adventure. I think I said it was such a thrill I wouldn't do any rapids milder than a 3 from here on.

colduphere, ah yes, it is a bit spicy -- I hope your next dinner is more to your taste!

ncounty, yes, the mango drink was amazing! The attendant made it it in a blender, and after I drank a whole milkshake-style glassful, she asked if I wanted the rest from her blender, and she gave me a whole additional glass -- yum!

That's too funny about the rafting! I am now re-reading your trip report and it's all coming together. I might take your advice and fly first-class next time if I can swing it! I've only flown first class once before (and it was a "gift" from the airline -- it was on New Year's Eve, and the agent felt sorry for me because I'd been flying 20 hours due to some horrible American Airlines mixup. It was a wonderful few hours in a comfy chair, sipping champagne... that's the life!).

Okay the end of the joke is that we went rafting yesterday with a maximum run of class 3.5. The 12 year old never stopped smiling. We would love to come back someday and do their 3 day class five through a canyon trip.

Inca trail starts tomorrow. If it is taking us 10 minutes to climb the 90 feet from the plaza it should take us about 7.5 hours to climb Dead Woman's Pass on day 2. My wife will kill me. I see a renaming ceremony ahead.

Oh, I'm glad you had fun rafting! I bet the hike will go OK -- good luck and enjoy!

---------------------------
Wednesday, Nov. 30
=================

On my last day in Cusco, I decided to begin with a drive up to Salineras, Moray, and Chinchero, then in the evening visit the Planetarium Cusco, which offers presentations on the astronomy of the Incas (or... that's what I was expecting anyway).

For the first part of all that, I went down to the plaza and found a taxi driver who could take me around the valley. The driver, Raúl, also offered to take me to a corral to see some llamas and alpacas, which I agreed was a good idea.

Our first stop was Chinchero, which was much smaller than I'd been expecting, but I liked it -- I thought the village was really charming.

On our way up to the church, I stopped to browse at a shop, and it was here I had a dilemma that looms large in my memory. To explain: initially, I had imagined that in Perú I would buy plenty of alpaca sweaters. However, after seeing alpaca listed on so many dinner menus, I had soured on sweater-buying -- I am a vegetarian, and because I think that the clothing industry and meat industry tend to be intertwined, I try to avoid animal products. I do have leather shoes, and some wool products. I will also admit that I drink half-and-half and eat butter (mainly for convenience when traveling -- not really at home). So it's not a perfect system, but when possible I try to buy synthetic clothing. Anyway, I was completely fine with my decision until I saw an exceptionally attractive baby-alpaca poncho in Chinchero. The proprietress assured me that the yarn used for her garments came from alpacas not used for meat, and she persuaded me to try it on -- and it was spectacular!! (Not to mention cheap.) It was so beautiful. It was not bulky, yet it felt incredibly warm. It had a trim around the border depicting llamas, and there were also two long scarflike pieces that you could wrap around your neck for extra warmth... Once I became convinced, more or less, that it was morally acceptable to buy the poncho, I was then stopped by the fact that the poncho was black and I have a white dog whose hair sheds **everywhere**, making it almost impossible for me to wear black. Seriously, no amount of vacuuming and brushing has protected my black clothes. I asked the proprietess if she had different colors (she did not), and then decided to think about it, and maybe come back. But I did not go back, and for some time afterward I was haunted by the memory of the phenomenal garment that I passed up!!! Oh well -- another reason to return.

Anyway, to the more "important" parts of the visit: I really liked the church, with its intricately painted interior and out-of-the-way feeling. It had a decrepit feeling about it, yet the atmosphere was one of grandeur, too. Afterward, Raúl and I wandered around the ruins just beyond the church. The countryside around us was incredibly quiet and peaceful. Later, as we went back past the church and through town, Raúl pointed out where the colonial buildings are built atop Inca foundations, which was interesting.

After Chinchero, we headed for Moray. Along the way, we passed through a tiny pueblo that, compared with Cusco, felt otherworldly in its smallness and simplicity. I probably should have asked Raúl if we could walk around a bit, but instead I just snapped a few photos from the car.

Upon leaving the pueblo, we came across a woman and a baby. Raúl stopped to offer them a ride. They spoke only Quechua, so Raúl and our passengers visited in Quechua until we reached a spot on the side of the road where they wanted to get out.

Eventually we came to Moray, the experimental agricultural terraces. The site was pretty, but after Machu Picchu, it wasn't the most astonishing place, and I'm not sure it was worth the effort it took to get there (though if you're out and about at some of these nearby places, then I guess it's not too much extra effort). We walked around a bit and were preparing to leave when a guy came up to me and said "Didn't I meet you recently?" He looked completely unfamiliar to me, so I replied that I didn't think so. He said, "No, I'm sure we did meet." Finally, he called out to his girlfriend, saying, "What island did we meet her on?" And the girlfriend called back "Santa Lucia!" As soon as I saw her, I knew who they were. They are a couple from Barcelona who I had met last summer at a tiny restaurant in Gros Islet, St. Lucia, only to discover that we were staying at the same nearby guesthouse. These two are traveling the world, and now, at Moray, they told me that since I'd seen them in St. Lucia they had been to several islands, several Central American countries, and then down through South America to Perú. What an incredible coincidence to see them again! We took photos together before saying goodbye.

After Moray, Raúl and I went through another small pueblo, then we came to Salineras, the salt pans. This salt pans comprise what looks like hundreds of ponds colored all different shades of white: parchment, cream, chalk-white, and so on. It was very pretty, and here I bought several small bags of "sal de los Incas" to give as sourvenirs to people at home.

I'd mentioned to Raúl that I'd missed seeing Q'enqo, so we stopped there next. It was interesting, but it wouldn't have been a tragedy to have missed it. Then it was on to a place where Raúl said we could see llamas and alpacas. The establishment, whose name I forget, had weaving demonstrations and exhibits on traditional dying techniques. But it was the animals that I loved seeing. We fed them straw and took tons of photos. They were so beautiful, especially the baby alpacas. I had mixed feelings about seeing the captive vicuñas, which were held in a separate corral up on a hillside -- I had been under the impression that these animals couldn't be or shouldn't be domesticated, though I admit that I don't really know a lot of details about this.

This was basically the end of the day tour, so Raúl dropped me off at the Plaza de Armas. Before leaving me, he agreed to take me to the airport early the next morning.

I had some time before the planetarium people were supposed to pick me up, so I went for a walk. I was a bit peckish, so I headed back for a *third* visit to the bakery-shop window I'd been frequenting. It appeared to be connected to an Irish pub -- Rosie O'Grady's -- but it still seemed Peruvian to me. It reminded me of the pastry cases I had seen all over Lima. I again purchased a miniature lemon pie. It wasn't as good as the one I'd had a few days ago, but I still liked it.

Finally it was time for my pickup by Planetarium Cusco. Besides me, two other people were going to the evening's presentation, which took place at the planetarium headquarters, on a hillside overlooking the town.

This turned out to be one of those things that sounds really cool, but in reality was disappointing. Perhaps I just didn't understand what the intent of the presentation was, but I was disappointed that it seemed to focus on everything *except* Inca astronomy. First, the presentation focused on Cusco. For about 20-30 minutes, a speaker offered a bunch of details about Cusco, and the Incas in general, most of which I already knew. Next we were shown a small model of the galaxy and lectured to about the fact that astronomical distances are often misrepresented in sci-fi movies (no... really?). Then we were led into a room where they projected an image of the stars onto the ceiling overhead, which was neat, but they used this display to talk only about non-Inca constellations such as Capricorn, Saggitarius and so on. Finally they got to the part about Inca astronomy, but this portion of the evening was woefully short on details. In fact, I don't think they said anything more than did the placard on this subject at the Qorikancha. Curiously, no time was set aside for questions -- though I did ask one question, which seemed to catch the presenter off guard and wasn't answered well.

So, this was basically a disappointing evening, though at the very end things picked up when we were allowed a peek through the planetarium's powerful telescope -- we saw the surface of the moon, Jupiter and four of its moons, and the Andromeda galaxy. Very cool! Unfortunately, we were only able to spend a few minutes with the telescope because the planetarium people, who in general seemed disorganized, had apparently just figured out that their driver had to leave at the exact moment, so we had to scramble to get into the van and be off.

If you do decide to go to the planetarium, make sure you bring a fleece and maybe even a jacket, depending on the time of year -- it was much colder on the hillside than it is in town.

The Planetarium people dropped me off near the Plaza de Armas. After that, I just wandered for a bit. I came across a magic show in the street, led by a guy and a little boy. It seemed very theatrical and the crowd all around periodically burst into laughter or applause at the duo's antics. I didn't understand everything that was being said, but I thought it seemed cool -- and I felt like I was finally starting to experience a bit of the city's flamboyant, devil-may-care side, which so far I'd only read about.

Next, I returned to San Blas -- I had decided to check out a restaurant I'd noticed when I was there before. Along the way, a little guy showed up and tried to interest me in some alpaca sweaters. I was still feeling the bitter sting of regret about the poncho, so I was interested. First I quizzed him extensively on alpaca welfare. Then, feeling tired and indecisive, I asked him if he would be around for much longer, and he said, no, holding up his satchel as if that explained things and saying "soy de las montañas!" After he assured me that the alpacas "no mueren," I bought a gray pullover from him and put it on immediately to shield myself from the chilly night air.

I continued up the hill toward San Blas and found the restaurant I'd seen earlier. I don't remember the name, but it was a small establishment with about four or five tables, all lit with tapered candles. I ordered something that sounds boring -- sautéed tomatoes with avocado and rice-- but was delicious! It was also presented beautifully: the rice was served in the shape of a star, and the green avocado slices looked striking against the dark red tomatoes. After I finished eating I sipped a pisco sour and wrote in my travel journal while the propietor strummed a guitar. Eventually he went outside to talk to some friends or aquaintances. I waited a while for him to come back in so I could pay -- when he didn't, I went outside and he was nowhere to be found. I looked up and down the quiet streets and wondered what to do. I went back in and waited a while. At this point there were no other diners there. Finally I left my money on the table and left, hoping the cash would remain undisturbed until he got back.

Then I went back to la Piccola Locanda, packed up my things, and made arrangements with the hotel for an early checkout the next morning.

Wow, enjoying reading of your travels. How amazing to run into that couple again! I love those serendipitous moments.

Oh thanks, ncounty! And yes, I was stunned by that coincidence! We joked that we just had to run into each another again, perhaps in Argentina, where we all want to go, but I guess that might be more luck than we can count on. ; )

------------------------------------------------
Thursday, Dec. 1 -- Cusco to Barranco
===============================

I dragged myself out of bed early and went to turn in my room key. The attendant at the front desk offered me a brown-bag breakfast, which was thoughtful.

Raúl was right on time, picking me up at la Iglesia de San Cristóbal at 6. We headed to the airport, and this time my flight was on time and uneventful.

It was funny; in general I had been lukewarm on Cusco, but I'd just started feeling that I was getting a sense of the city's personality, so I was a little sad to leave. Arriving back in Lima, I felt I was in a whole different world.

I had arranged an airport pickup through Second Home Peru, and that all went well. Arriving in Barranco, my sadness at leaving Cusco melted away -- I was thrilled with my new surroundings! Much as I had loved el Centro (from my first few days in Perú), this area was equally wonderful. The sight of the Pacific Ocean was so pretty and relaxing, and the smell of salt in the air reminded me of home. Second Home Peru is in a large house right by the ocean, with awesome views. And my room was gorgeous -- it had a large bed with a beautiful iron headboard, and a clawfoot tub. One downside is that the room's private bathroom did not have a door separating the toilet area and bedroom, so if you were staying there with someone, that could be annoying. The other downside was that there was only one window, and it looked out onto the interior of a shared patio. (However, it was nice being able to go onto the patio to stare at the ocean.) As a point of reference, my room was No. 4 -- I'm sure they're all different.

After checking in, I decided to go for a walk. First I went by the Bridge of Sighs, which was nice, but not quite as compelling as the name suggests. What I enjoyed more was just walking along the main drag and snapping photos of the brilliantly colored buildings. Eventually I came to el Museo Pedro de Osma. This museum's religious art was not that exciting to me, but the building, with its towering ceilings (at least 14 feet high, I'd guess), dramatically long halls, and ornate detailing, was just amazing -- it might be the most beautiful building I have ever entered. How extraordinary to think this was ever someone's house! I also liked the exhibits that featured lush antique furniture, housed in a secondary building (also beautiful) on the property.

After a bit, I headed back to Second Home Peru, changed clothes, then got in a taxi headed toward La Rosa Náutica. This restaurant, which sits on a pier amidst the waters of the Pacific, is really stunning. I arrived around 6:15, just as the sun was starting to sink low in the sky, and the body surfers bobbing along in the water were probably thinking about calling it a day. I went into the dining room and, as an aside, I will mention that, on previous trips, I've often found that my guidebooks are overly cautious with warnings that reservations are "essential." In this case, the caution was warranted. Even at that early hour, the restaurant was packed, and the hostess told me to come back at 7, which was the time I'd made my reservation for.

In the meantime, I went to the bar section of the restaurant, which faced away from the setting sun and therefore had a slightly inferior view. At many restaurants, there's not *that* big a difference between the bar and main dining room. In this case, there was. The main dining room seemed formal and perhaps a bit staid. By contrast, the bar section was loud and raucous. The view was of the "other" side of the water, away from the sunset, but it was still quite pretty. I felt like I was practically sitting on the water, and the atmosphere was enhanced further by the sight of an illuminated cross sitting high on a hillside in the distance. I sat down and ordered a pisco sour. Sitting near me were two Guatemalan businessmen -- a guy about my father's age and his nephew. They invited me to join them, and I was enjoying myself so much that when the time for my reservation arrived, I just decided to stay where I was. We ordered some vegetarian snacks, had another round of pisco sours, and remarked on the pleasant view of the darkening ocean.

Sadly, the taxi driver had asked me for an exact time that I wanted to be picked up and I had given one -- mainly because I didn't feel confident enough to handle it later by phone. As a result, I felt a bit like Cinderella as the evening wore on, trying to wrap things up and be ready to run out to the parking lot to make my pickup on time. As it grew closer to the time for me to depart, my companions also decided to leave and head for El Bolivarcito, which I had told them about. When the bill came, they generously insisted on paying for the whole thing. They invited me to come with them to El Bolivarcito, but it had been a long day, so I decided to stick with the original plan and head back to Second Home Peru, leaving them with the promise that I will look them up should I ever make make it to Guatemala City, which I hope will happen.

----------------------------------
Friday, Dec. 2 -- Barranco
======================

In the night and early morning at Second Home Peru, I learned that having a room right next to the central staircase in a three-story B&B isn't necessarily a good idea. Light from the common area of the inn shone brightly at all hours through the yellow stained-glass window above my door and, of course, I heard people pounding along the stairs on their way in and out. I made a mental note to sleep with earplugs the next night.

Breakfast took place in a huge eat-in kitchen with a single large wooden table -- for some reason, the scene reminded me of a French country house. Except for a lady who worked there, the kitchen was empty when I arrived. The food (eggs made to order, bread, jam, fruit, coffee, juice) was outstanding. I think they also offered pancakes, but I always chose eggs. These were perhaps the best breakfasts I had in Perú.

So, eating at a communal table is a funny thing -- a bit like a game of cards. The mix of people can be a good hand, a bad one, or somewhere in between. Eventually an American couple showed up, and I'd say altogether we made an average hand at best. ; ) When they came in, I smiled at them, but they looked away and were silent. Eventually they began speaking to each other in hushed tones, all the while studiusly ignoring my presence, which felt a bit awkward given we were all seated together (though certainly I can understand not being up for chatting with a stranger first thing in the morning -- or at all, if that's your personality). Anyway, I mention this only because ever since arriving at Second Home Peru, I'd been wondering whether the inn might merit a return visit. But it's this sort of thing -- awkward communal breakfasts and forced socializing -- that generally makes me favor anonymous hotels or apartments over B&Bs. (At the same time, I have to admit, for a B&B, Second Home Peru was pretty appealing in most ways).

After a bit, the lady of the house, Lilian Delfín, showed up and quizzed us on what we were all doing for the day. When I said I was heading for el Museo de la Nación, she made a face and said, "Don't waste your time." Slightly surprised, I mentioned that I wanted to see the exhibit on the internal conflict, and she loosened her judgment, proclaiming that that exhibit is the only worthwhile one, in her view.

As I finished up breakfast, Lilian said I should join her and some other guests for a tour of her father's (Victor Delfín's) art studio, which is on the inn's grounds closer to the water. This was a lot of fun. I am an artist, so it was a thrill to meet an artist who has accomplished so much. We met the master himself, and he very graciously agreed to let me take his photo. Lilian showed us several of his pieces, including one that I particularly liked, two large carved panels inspired by the internal conflict. I should mention that his artwork is also displayed throughout the inn itself (including the guestrooms), which adds to the appeal of the already beautiful house.

While showing us around, Lilian asked the only other woman on the tour what she does for a living. When she said she was a lawyer, Lilian proclaimed that "you look like a lawyer." I had previously told Lilian that I have a day job but am an aspiring artist. Now, during the tour, she gave me a long look, then said, "And you look like an artist." For some reason, this completely thrilled me!

Afterward, I walked on a path along the ocean to Miraflores. It was a wonderful walk, with spectacular views of the ocean. The route took me through a park with meticulous landscaping -- there were palm trees, colorful flowers, and winding paths. A sign proclaimed that dogs were allowed ("Zona de perros," it said). Proving this, quite a few local people were out and about walking their pets. I fantasized, not for the first time, about moving to Perú!

I got to Miraflores and stopped into a few shops. I bought a hand-painted mirror for myself and one for my mom, plus a few other little trinkets. I stopped for a late lunch at a very busy cafe, where I ordered a stuffed avocado and strawberry juice. Then I got in a cab and headed to the museum.

I arrived later than I'd intended, and my plan to start with a quick viewing of the museum's quipus was shot down when the staff at the front desk said that they did not have a map of the enormous museum. Not wanting to waste time, I decided to head straight to the internal-conflict exhibit (I knew where that was). Upon arriving at the right floor, I was shuttled into a room where they showed a 20-minute Spanish-language video on the internal conflict, which unfortunately I didn't really understand. After that I started browsing through the exhibit of photos. Sadly, I did not have enough time to see the whole thing. However, I was there long enough to determine that the English-language placards were not very good (I mainly tried to read the Spanish ones), but the photos were incredibly moving. I wish I'd had longer there, but oh well.

After the museum closed at 5, I had some time to kill before a concert (also at the museum) by the national orchestra. I bought a piece of cake at the museum's cafe, wrote in my journal, and chatted with a museum attendant. I also watched some young ballet dancers as they practiced in the museum's huge lobby. Eventually it was time for the concert, and it was wonderful! The orchestra played two pieces by Mexican composers, two by Peruvians, and Beethoven's Sixth. I'm not an expert on classical music, but I could really hear the difference between the style of the Latin composers compared with the Europeans I'm more accustomed to.

I occasionally go to the symphony in Boston, so it was also interesting to compare the two styles of events. In Lima, the audience was smaller, but also a lot younger, on average. The setting was much more humble than Boston's spectacular Symphony Hall, but it was made elegant by a border of crimson flowers strewn along the edge of the stage, and by the staff's dress -- all of the ticket takers and attendants were dressed in black, with long peach-colored sashes draped over their shoulders. I was surprised that there were no warnings to turn off our cell phones -- and shocked when the woman next to me *answered* her phone during the concert. She kept it short, so it didn't really bother me, but it was just striking how different this was from what I'm used to. I think in Boston, you might get arrested for that. Anyway, it was a wonderful evening, and I hope to see Perú's orchestra again sometime. I also decided to try and see the local orchestras in other major cities that I visit in the future.

My taxi picked me up right on time, just as the concert was letting out. On the way back to the inn, we stopped to see The Kiss, Victor Delfín's wonderful illuminated sculpture on the waterfront in Miraflores. In the park around the sculpture, affectionate couples cuddled in the moonlight.

After that, the taxi shuttled me the short distance back to the inn. So ended my first full day in Barranco. How sad that it was almost my last!

Still enjoying your report, sasark, I like the way you travel.
Yes, Lilian does have a personality. But how often do you get to sleep inside an art museum? I hope you also saw the silver room at Pedro de Osma, I nearly missed it myself.

On my recent trip I stayed at 3B Barranco which is a new small hotel in Barranco, about half the price of Second Home Peru for an individual, and located not far from the Balta Metropolitano station. The breakfasts are at individual tables, no need for forced interactions. Extremely helpful staff (24 hours) but some issues with noise. I would still return, with earplugs, to either of those lodgings. www.3bhostal.com

Oh, thanks mlgb! You always have the best suggestions! That place looks very copacetic.

I did see the silver room at Pedro de Osma -- it was spectacular! Still, I think what liked best were the buildings themselves. I especially loved the ceilings in the building at the back, the one with the furniture. By that point, I had been asked not to take photos (I hadn't seen a sign about that, so I'd assumed it was OK -- wrong!). Still, I couldn't help sneaking a photo of the beautiful colored ceilings in that smaller building. So pretty!

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Saturday, Dec. 3 -- Barranco
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My last day began with another wonderful breakfast at Second Home Peru, then I reluctantly packed up and left my room, checking my bags with the inn for the day.

I had thought a lot about what I wanted to do on my last day. I was interested in quite a few different stops, which conceivably could all be combined into one tightly plotted itinerary -- but I didn't want to spend my last day racing around, so I decided to choose one thing, and it was MALI.

To get there, I decided to walk along the ocean again to Miraflores, then grab a taxi. It was cloudier on this day, but I enjoyed the walk just as much.

I found a taxi easily and, upon arriving at MALI, felt a bit of nostalgia at the memory of myself from 11 or 12 days earlier, buying a caramel cookie on the sidewalk outside, with most of my trip still ahead of me.

You enter the museum grounds through a gate in a tall wall. Inside is the museum building, plus a huge park, which was teeming with activity on the day that I was there. It seemed as though there were some organized youth events going on, plus lots of people were just wandering about.

I bought my ticket and entered. There were three exhibits, two focusing on pre-Colombian art, probably from the museum's permanent collection, and an exhibit of ink drawings by an artist named Fernando Bryce. I spent a few hours looking at Bryce's drawings -- these unique pieces were inspired partly by images and text from old newspapers and magazines. The exhibit explored themes related to colonialism, along with other ideas related to political and national identity. The artist also seemed concerned with the way events and people are represented in the media. I liked those aspects of the work, but mainly I wanted to examine the techniques Bryce used in his portraits. After that, I moved on to the pre-Colombian exhibits, which were also impressive. It was cool to look at these pieces and think that 1,000 years ago (sometimes more), people worked to make these things pretty -- and they are still here for us to enjoy.

I spent a few hours in the galleries, which are set up around an interior courtyard with a classic black-and-white checkered floor. The day I was there, the very top of the courtyard (quite a ways over my head) was covered with a tarp, but you could still hear the frenetic sounds of traffic on the busy streets outside the museum walls. Rather than being obnoxious, though, these sounds just made the museum feel like more of an enclave.

Afterward, I went into the museum's cafe and had gnocchi, juice, and coffee. While I sat there, three girls came in to talk conspiratorially over a table of snacks. They wore long red-and-black flamenco skirts, paired with various different casual summer shirts. While they talked, one of them made a flamenco-style gesture with her arm, whether to demonstrate a move or accentuate a point in her story, I'm not sure.

Before leaving, I visited the gift shop and bought a handbag that, to my eye, looked very South American, with an image of the Virgin surrounded by tiny sequins and mirrors. I also bought a papier mache seahorse, and a cheap-ish MALI tote to serve as a carry-on for my breakable purchases. (The old carry-on got checked.)

When it was time to go, I crossed back through the open grounds of the museum and briefly saw the flamenco dancers practicing, but unfortunately their session was just ending.

I went out on the street in front of the museum and saw various combis pulling up. I had not actually taken a combi before, and they looked like fun. I had with me the names of a few combis that would go by Second Home Peru, but I never saw one of these, so eventually I just got in a taxi.

Back at Second Home Peru, I went into the office to rearrange things in my luggage. Then I went outside and sat on the yard, watching the sun sinking low over the ocean. I so didn't want to leave!

I had arranged for a taxi to take me first to el Circuito Magico del Agua, then to the airport. As an aside, I will mention that I had been using the same taxi driver for most of my stay in Barranco, and unfortunately he seemed to have gotten a bit smitten with me. It probably wouldn't have been too awkward, but I had to sit in the front of the taxi with him (because my luggage was in the back seat), and he "accidentally" touched me a few times too many. I didn't think it was bad enough to storm out and call for a different taxi in the middle of a basically unfamiliar city, but it was icky. Still, I refused to let anything spoil my last excursion!

The fountains were fun -- I can see why one might think they're a little cheesy, but I liked seeing so many people enjoying themselves there, especially the little children posing for photos in front of the colored water. The area was a lot larger than I'd expected -- I'd thought there would just be a few fountains -- but it's an expansive park with many fountains quite spread out, end-to-end. In fact, I was way off to one side and didn't even realize at first that I was missing the main music and light show, but I did get there for the grand finale, which included an image of a couple ballroom-dancing across a wall of shooting water.

I was dropped at the airport around 9 p.m. -- in other words, right on time for my midnight flight, which would take me home via Houston and Newark. At the airport, I had another meal of papas a la huancaina, not nearly as good as what I'd had in Cusco, but followed by a unique caramel dessert that I really liked, probably incredibly fattening. Then I bought a Spanish-English dictionary to replace one that I believe I lost at La Rosa Náutica, boarded my plane and began a draft of a Spanish-language note to one of my new friends in Perú.