@ tripplanner001: No worries! We all make mistakes sometimes, and clarifying the ways in which taxis in Peru works may be of value to some readers.

Re Quinua as a market town... I think I went back in Sept 2013 on a weekend day. It was primarily a produce/meals market. Not sure if being in May vs August would make much of difference (eg May being the start of potato harvest season) Most rural markets would be more active on weekends (some one day only, and going early enough would change things). We arrived late lunch time (eg after 1pm) but it was already winding down. As far as buying aretesania, there were stalls along the main road selling the famous Quinua pottery churches that go on top of homes. Perhaps they are set up only on weekends when Peruvian tourists are likely to be visiting (to the Pampas of Ayacucho), or perhaps they are now consigned and mainly now sold in Ayacucho or Lima, etc.

I think the travel agency I used was mentioned in one of the guide books, but perhaps they have been sold or closed.

Same experience as kja with noise at ViaVia and a bad meal at La Casona.

For crellston Ayacucho (with Paracas)

@ mlgb: Thanks so much for that link! And for assuring me that my experiences weren’t unique. I defnitely reached Quinua well into the afternoon, which I’m sure explains why the food market was almost closed. I’m a bit envious of your time in Paracas – it decided that I couldn’t fit it into this trip.

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Day 18 to 21: Arequipa
Day 18, cont.: Arequipa

It was late when I reached my hotel, La Casa de Melgar. With some lovely gardens and couryards – remnants of its origins as a bishop’s residence -- my room was generally serviceable. Too late for dinner by the time I got there, I turned in … and woke up during the night so cold that I could barely function! For the rest of my time here, I obtained an extra supply of blankets and I’m glad to report that on those subsequent nights, I could hear and feel some heated air during the coldest hours of the night. If actual warmth became beyond my powers of imagination, I could at least keep all but part of my face under cover and in reasonable comfort, and convince myself that the air was, uh, refreshing.


Day 19: Arequipa

I got a bit of a late start this morning, but made it to the breakfast area in time – or so I mistakenly thought. Granted, I was cutting it short, but I was unhappy to find that everything had been cleared before the posted closing hour. A woman granted my request for a bit of bread; otherwise, I was out of luck. I was in a decidedly grumpy mood when I left.

Heading the few blocks to Arequipa’s Plaza de Armas, I noticed increasingly grand architecture, and then the plaza itself: Oh, my, what a beautiful square! Lined on one side by a huge cathedral that I found particularly appealing, and on the other sides by two story buildings with arches defining arcades on the ground floor and balconies on the second, it is all built of a kind of local volcanic rock called sillar that is white and has just enough quartz and feldspar and whatever to shimmer ever so slightly. Nice! The central fountain was under renovation / repair, but the park held trees and shrubs and flowers and walkways lined by popular benches.

Fortunately, I soon found a small café for breakfast, savoring an exceptional omelette with warm rolls and coffee and juice.

Then, turning the corner onto the side of the plaza that faces the cathedral, I caught a glimpse of a gloriously snowcapped volcano in the distance (Misti, I think) and then – moving further – I realized that I could also see other volcanoes, also snow-capped, to the other side. Wow! I never tired of those glimpses.

I found the iPeru office, where a patient woman gave me a map and answered a number of questions. After briefly exploring some of the nooks and crannies of the arcades surrounding the plaza, I went to the Museo Santuarios Andinos, which features a mummy called Juanita, aka, the “Ice Maiden”, found high on a nearby mountain and believed to have been an Incan sacrifice. One starts with a 20-minute introductory film that highlights her discovery and recovery; I thought it fascinating! A few rooms feature objects associated with her, and with a few other burials found nearby, and then a large temperature-controlled case holding the mummy herself. Awesome!

On my way to a nearby archeological museum, a woman greeted me and politely inquired if I was visiting? We spent only a few moments together, but she seemed genuinely impressed that someone from the U.S. would travel alone to her city, and wanted to wish me a pleasant trip. With even brief interactions like that, how could it be otherwise?

The archeological museum looked closed, but there was a sign, and there was a buzzer, so I pressed it. Moments later a peephole shot open, revealing a pair of eyes; a voice asked “Como?”— as I suspected, it was closed for renovation.

Passing through that beautiful Plaza de Armas, I went to the Monasterio (convent) de Santa Catalina– what an awesome place! I paid for an English guide, and thought her time worth every penny. I’ll leave the details to guidebooks, but will admit that I’d never known that nuns who had taken their vows ever lived a non-communal life unless as hermits. I definitely enjoyed learning about those lives; walking around this lovely, lovely space; and taking in the surrounding volcanos from a vantage point atop one building.

Once the tour ended, I roamed around on my own to take pictures and explore a few things more fully. Almost immediately, after I carefully selected a vantage point to take a picture of one cloister, a French woman walked into the frame. She looked at me, I acknowledged her with my camera, and she proceeded to remain where she was. Sighing silently, I reminded myself to be patient. Unfortunately, she was moving at about the same pace that I was, and it seemed that no matter what I did, she stepped into my way – and every time, she seemed to acknowledge that she was doing so. Did she think I wanted to take pictures of her?!? It was frustratingly weird! Toward the end of our visits, when she entered an area where I was already standing, she actually asked me to move so she could take a picture. What? This time, I didn’t silence my sigh. Instead, I said, “Madame,” gesturing out of my line of sight. She looked completely surprised, but did, eventually, step away. Brilliant!

I stopped at a very pleasant bar across the street for a beer and then strolled back to the main plaza, where some kind of protest was underway – I think a gay pride event. I thought the Cathedral surprisingly light and airy, and if some altars were ornate, others were less lavish and more to my tastes.

I left the cathedral by a door to the far side of the plaza, where I entered upon a small street that seemed utterly given over to tourism – outdoor cafés serving pizza and pasta and burgers, and then turned onto a street lined with high-end shops. I took the opportunity to check the prices on some baby alpaca scarves and other products, just so I would have a comparison point when I began serious shopping for friends and family later in my trip.

Back at La Casa de Melgar, I obtained the extra blankets that made my next few nights bearable and freshened up before my 8:30 dinner reservation at Chicha por Gaston Acurio -- the same Gastón associated with Astrid & Gastón in Lima, but at a much more affordable price-point. There was a bit of a confusion at the desk – the hostess had mistakenly recorded my reservation for 7:30, and so had assumed that I was a no-show and given my table away. But a table in the courtyard was made available, and my meal was a delight! My very fresh salad and flavorful prawn entrée were beautifully plated and each involved a wonderful balance of tastes and textures. Too, my server suggested a very nice glass of wine to compliment each dish. Was it just that morning that I had been so grumpy?


Day 20: Arequipa

Awakening with a sore throat , I managed to make it to the breakfast buffet in a timely way. The selection wasn’t extensive, nor had I expected it to be – I enjoyed eggs made to order and coffee and juice and some fresh roles. As I walked to my table with a cup of coca tea, the breakfast woman started shouting – I had no idea she was shouting at me until another guest explained that I had apparently taken too many coca leaves! It seems that I was allowed no more than 10. Who knew? Certainly not the server at the ViaVia Café, who must have used 20 or more in the same size cup.

My first objective of the day was to go to the Giardino Tour office so I could pay the remaining half of the fee for a journey I planned to take with them starting the next day. My next objective was to find throat lozenges, as I had already used 2 of the 3 I carry in my emergency first-aid kit. I think I’ve already noted that pharmacies abound in Peru, so I stopped in one and was given a packet of 4 lozenges. I asked for another, and was very firmly told that no, I could purchase only ONE packet. ??? Not at all sure what that was about, I went to another pharmacy, and was readily given a different brand in a package that included at least a dozen lozenges. I decided to use them, and discarded the packet of four, fearing that I had miscommunicated my need.

Errands accomplished (yay!), I went to the municipal museum, but – as I had feared – it was closed. It was, however, adjacent to a lovely shaded square – the Parque San Fransisco; and the Complejo San Francisco – another place I hoped to visit -- was on its other side. Unfortunately, I got there too late to visit the monastery’s museum and a service was being held in the church, so I could only walk around the main cloister, which now holds a small collection of statues spanning the ages.

Having been without reliable internet access for several days, my next stop was a café where I had been told that wifi was free and as reliable as possible in this mountainous area – and indeed, I was able to connect! That the coffee was very good was a decided bonus.

Before leaving, I studied my options for the rest of the day – and realized that there must have been a misunderstanding at iPeru the preceding day. Knowing that many things would not be open on both of my full days in Arequipa, I had thought I asked what I should visit on that day and what I should wait to visit until this day. As it turned out, I had now already visited everything in town that would be open THIS day. Oops!

But I did have the option of going a bit outside the city to places offering views, so after poking my head into various churches that I happened upon just as services were either starting or ending, and taking the time to study the details of various façades, that’s what I did. Forearmed with information about the going rate for taxis to the Mirador de Carman Alto, I negotiated a ride and found myself at a delightful lookout – snowcapped volcanos in the distance; a wide and interesting valley, complete with cascading river, in the forefront; and a few adventurous souls ziplining from a place that I couldn’t quite see just to my right way into the valley to my left. (I was a bit envious – I’ve never ziplined and would like to do so some day! But that’s something I would want to have researched well in advance….)

I had been assured that I could walk from the Mirador de Carman Alto to the Mirador de Yanahuara, so off I went. For the first part of my route, that wonderful valley was to my left, and the fields that preceded the drop-off included some baby lambs so young that they couldn’t quite manage to walk and some kids (as in young goats) who were just learning to buck. Turning into an area with a major multi-lane highway, a very kind man took the time to make sure I knew how to navigate the area. From that busy road, I could see terraced land descending (as I did) to an area of flat fields, where a woman who had been checking on her crops called out and engaged in a brief, friendly greeting. I appreciated road-side plantings in full bloom before moving into what seemed to be a generally residential, but disconcertingly deserted area – had I somehow become lost? Ah, a person! She indicated that I should turn at the next corner, and there it was, just a few blocks and a staircase away.

I thought the Mirador de Yanahuara quite pleasant! An arcaded terrace offers beautiful views over Arequipa; a formal park with fountains and benches and blooming things and birds and sculptures (including one surprisingly like a totem pole) stretched out on the far side. The mirador and park and a charming church to one side of the mirador provided lovely settings for one couple’s wedding pictures, and for a young girl flaunting her multicolored tutu for her mother, and for tourists (including me) to capture some pleasant moments in that golden hour preceding the setting of the sun.

Returning to the Plaza de Armas by taxi, I realized that I still had a few moments before sunset, and so claimed a balcony-side seat at a second story restaurant overlying the Cathedral and square, and ooh, how lovely it was to watch the changing light make the sillar stone shimmer and glisten! Having spent most of my life much further from the equator, I never became accustomed to how ephemeral the sunsets of Peru were, and they rarely had the intense colors that come with the industrial pollution of areas in which I have lived, but I nonetheless found something wonderfully charming about this daily transition.

My pisco sour lasted much longer than the sunset, and a musician added to my enjoyment of the area. (I still wonder, though, why so many musicians in Peru seem to feature works by Bob Dylan and other folk singers from a long-gone era.)

After freshening up – and ensuring that extra blankets remained on my bed – I went to a nearby restaurant, Zingaro, for dinner. Another delicious meal! I began with a quinoa and vegetable soup and then turned to a pork entrée, both accompanied by a luscious carménère. Ooh, I am one fortunate person to have these experiences!


Day 21: Arequipa

I am fortunate – but waking up early is not my favorite thing. I managed to rouse myself by 5:30, a time dictated by the scheduled pick-up time for my Giardino tour. I packed and readied and reached the Melgar’s breakfast area just after it was to open at 7:00 am. It was not ready. It was not ready until nearly 7:20 – giving me just enough time to grab a piece of bread and a piece of fruit before I had to depart. I was not happy. But of course, I found reasons to feel better soon enough….


Next up: Giardino Tour from Arequipa to Puno

Geez..I would have told the lady at breakfast that I was taking the 10 extra leaves that I didn't get the day before, or as a welcome drink (which they should have offered).

@ mlgb: The suggestion that I should limit my use of coca leaves at La Casa de Melgar was so different than most of the other places I stayed in the highlands! Most had a big basket of coca leaves next to a pot of hot water, and made it clear that one could have as much as one wanted, 24/7.

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Day 21 to 22: Giardino Tour from Arequipa to Puno
Day 21, cont.: Arequipa to the Colca Canyon

I reached the Melgar’s door just as my tour guide – H – came for me. At least I wasn’t late! H proved to be a very informative and thoughtful guide; the driver easily earned my kudos for his careful driving; and I happily recommend the tour itself – a two day English-language tour staring in Arequipa, overnighting in the Colca Canyon, and ending before sunset in Puno. There were 10 tourists (counting me) on this day, and all of us spoke English (if not necessarily as our mother tongue).

Once we left the outskirts of Arequipa behind – and that took quite some time! – we moved into an area where we could see the area’s volcanos more clearly than from the city’s miradors. I don’t remember when it became visible, but we were in luck: One of the volcanos in the region was spewing steam (or that’s what I assume it was – all I can say for sure is that an impressive billowing white whatever issued from its snowcapped peak), and we were able to see that particular mountain off and on almost all the way to the Colca Canyon, and for part of the next day, too – when it obliged us with a short, but decided, interval of grey ash.

I won’t try to chronicle this day’s tour, but I will mention some of the things I thought were highlights:

· Seeing elegant vicuñas, and herds (sometimes vast!) of llama and alpaca in their myriad colors, and rare glimpses of the people who tend them, and a bevy of huge rabbits that reminded me of wallabies when they bounded up the dry gully in which they had been foraging;

· The otherworldliness of the altiplano and other terrains through which we traveled, with ancient volcanos near and far, with barely enough grasses in most places to sustain the camelids (but a few – very few – wetlands here and there), and very thin air making for intense sun and seemingly endless vistas, and an much greener area once we entered the Colca Canyon with 1,500-year-old terraces, many still in use;

· Glimpses of various cacti and some rare flora, including a type of moss or lichen (or?) that was intensely emerald green and harvested because it is believed to have healing powers and that grows so slowly (more slowly than the uplift of the regions’s mountain range, if I remember correctly! ) that it is seriously endangered and now protected;

· A few villages where the small central square edges the main church, in which Catholic and Andean traditions have found a way to co-exist; and one where a statue showed well-known folk characters, including a woman bearing the weight of her drunken husband; and many where polite children and young ladies, wearing beautiful traditional clothes, offered the chance to be photographed with a charmingly bedecked baby alpaca in exchange for a sole. I have no idea how many of those pictures turned out, but for me, that wasn’t the point – the point was sharing just a tiny bit of my comparatively unimaginable wealth for a service offered honestly and with courtesy.

· The pass at 4,910 meters, PataPampa, where countless composed stacks of rock attested to the many people who have made offerings to Pachamama or whatever spirit moved them,

· The delicious triple-tea served at a few stops along the way – coca, muña, and something else that I can’t remember; and at one of these stops, the very young kitten playing intently with a mouse (recently deceased – VERY recently) nearly as big as the kitten….

Our entire group stopped for lunch at La Casa de Mama Yacchi, where I would spend the night. (Tour members had different options for lodging.) Not interested in a meal at that time (even though it smelled wonderful!), I instead took the time to settle in and to admire the gorgeous valley that spread out before us, with fields and terraces and mountain ridges interwoven in a multi-colored tapestry. So lovely!

After the meal ended, four of our group left for alternative lodgings, and the other six of us joined H for a short walk through this glorious terrain. I was still having trouble breathing and found even a gentle uphill slope ridiculously challenging after a while. When we reached a small rivulet where one had to climb just a bit – really, not even as much as a flight of stairs – I decided to stop. I told the rest to go on; I’d meet them back at the hotel. H assured me that the path flattened out again after the short bit of hill before us, and people graciously gave me a bit of a breather by pausing to converse and admire the scenery, and then they gently – very gently – encouraged me to go on. I am so grateful to them for doing so! It was, indeed, just a very short and easy climb, and then another gentle upward slope to the impressive walls of a pre-Incan settlement. I believe it was a Collahuan community, but could easily be wrong. H pointed to the distinct areas that would have served the elite and commoners, and the traces of a ceremonial center, and, finally, a mirador offering breathtaking views over the valley. Wow!

On the way back to the hotel, we saw several people threshing grain and small flocks of sheep and goats heeding the bells that signalled dinner time by trotting from their fields to the roads that would lead them food-ward and bits of the surrounding scenery that caught one’s attention as the light shifted.

I freshened up and, finding that the temperatures had dropped dramatically with the setting of the sun, headed to La Casa de Mama Yacchi’s comfortable seats near its fragrant fireplace. Following H’s advice, I ordered a colca sour – like a pisco sour, but made with the fruit of a local cactus. Oh, my! Delicious! I’d order that again ANY day.

I was just finishing that delightful elixir when the dinner buffet opened for service, and with that, the most awkward experience of this tour: Those of us who were staying at La Casa de Mama Yacchi were, apparently, to sit together in a specific marked area of a long table. H and our driver, who did not speak English, sat to one side of me, and although I tried to engage them in conversation, my efforts failed. A young couple sat to my other side, and were apparently much too interested in each other to include me in their conversation. IMO, everyone’s actions were completely understandable, but it was not the convivial experience I would have preferred. I don’t mind dining alone at all; in contrast, I found it extremely awkward to sit between two pairs of people who were each essentially ignoring me. Sigh.

Before going to bed, I stepped outside ever so briefly to admire the night sky, which held an utterly awesome display of stars with a decided splash of the Milky Way. But it was cold, so I soon turned in.


Day 22: The Colca Canyon to Puno

I slept very comfortably – making it even harder to drag myself out of bed at 4:30. But I succeeded, and had time for a quick breakfast (which, to my surprise, offered no eggs – everywhere else I stayed did). We soon left Coparaque, picked up the tour members who had spent the night elsewhere, and began another day of sightseeing.

There were a few quick stops to acknowledge the magnificence of the Colca Canyon, which is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, if much more narrow. Currently, the roads to the deepest parts of the canyon aren’t passable by most vehicles, but we saw some places that were deep enough to impress me!

The highlight of the day was the Cruz de Condor, a spot where condors ride the canyon’s thermals, and OMG, what a sight that was! These huge birds (and even the juveniles – who are a slightly different color – are huge) swoop up from below and dive down from above, sometimes alone and sometimes in groups of two or three (males displaying their talents for the ladies?), and I swear that some of those birds chose to camp for cameras! And this day was a busy one – the “show” lasted for at least an hour, and at one point, several of us independently counted 25 different birds in view at the same time. Awesome! And for almost all of that time, a single hummingbird sat on a limb just in front of the viewing platform on which I stood, nearly motionless, as though he, too, was enjoying the performance.

I joined the rest of my group for a short walk along a path that was close enough to the canyon rim to offer magnificent vistas, yet far enough from the edge to preclude fear. It was a nice chance to appreciate the area and its flora and stretch a bit in the midst of what was a day otherwise spent primarily in the seat of a van.

We stopped a few other places on this day – once to see a small flock of flamingos cooling their feet in a shallow lake and another time to pick up a Swiss couple who would join us for the trip to Puno. They were so enthralled with the chance to see large stretches of generally flat terrain! Our other stops were much like those of the first day, so I’ll spare you the details, except to say that I continued to find the scenery incredibly beautiful, if often in a harshly compelling way.

The last part of our trip took us through the decidedly un-lovely town of Juliaca, and then into the outskirts of Puno. I was the first to be dropped off, with lots of fond farewells.

Next up: Puno

I"m amazed that you saw 25 condors at once..sounds like May is the month to go! Does the tour not include any visits to the colonial church interiors any more (earthquakes?) Kudos for making it to San Antonio..the payoff for going to Ayacucho first!

Also curious if they used their own bus/van to Puno, or if you were transferred to 4M?

I was also happy with my Giardino experience, and glad to hear they are still doing a good job (other than the bizarre meal experience).

I shared this photo when there was Picasa, but thought kja and readers might enjoy it..Seen during our walk from Mama Yaachi to San Antonio.

The style of hat identifies the wearer as Collagua (no more skull elongations since banned by the Spanish).

@ mlgb: Thank you so much for recommending Giardino! It was an excellent experience. We had the same vehicle, with Giardino markings, on both days; it had space for 13 or maybe 14 people (plus the driver and guide) and a luggage area behind the seats.

That photo is a classic! I couldn’t have carried that bag if it had been filled with helium, and yet the people of this area make it seem so easy! And the ways in which hats and other items of clothing identify a person’s heritage – fascinating!

I hadn’t known the name of those ruins – San Antonio? Thanks! But help me out here – why was making it there “the payoff for going to Ayacucho first”— acclimitization?

Our guide said that seeing 25 condors at once was rare – he had said we would be lucky to see 8 or 9. But I didn’t know if that was just hype, so I’m glad you mentioned your amazement. It was definitely awesome!!!

IIRC, our trip included visits to two colonial churches, one that I missed because of the length of the line for the WC, and the other, intriguing for the ways it incorporated pre-Columbian elements into its otherwise Catholic décor.

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Days 22 to 24: Puno
Day 22, cont: Puno

The timing of our arrival at the Mirador del Titikaka could not have been better – I had just the right amount of time to check in and order a pisco sour before the sun set, and oh, what a wonderful place to watch that! The hotel is on a hill above town and it overlooks part of the lake and the town and some of the surrounding hills, so I was able to watch the natural light (and its reflections from the lake) change and the city’s lights (also reflected in the water near shores) come on, and lights on distant hills and stars began to emerge. Beautiful! One can do worse – much, much worse!

Later, I enjoyed a flavorful dinner of soup, trout, and various side dishes in the hotel’s welcoming lobby, where a delightfully aromatic fire crackled away. I again stepped outside briefly to see the night sky, and one of the men who works for the hotel pointed out some constellations, but it was way too cold to spend more than a few minutes there. I retired to my delighfully warm room for a cozy night’s sleep.


Day 23: Puno

I enjoyed a leisurely morning by sleeping late and taking my time over a very tasty breakfast. There’s a short walk around the hotel’s property that could probably have taken 20 minutes, but I spent an hour savoring it, as it afforded glorious views over Puno and Lake Titikaka and over the altiplano to the far (north) side of the hill on which the hotel sites. And – bonus! – it even has the base of at least one chullpa, an ancient Aymara funerary tower.

It is also home to a small flock of alpacas, and as I came upon them, one of them stepped onto the path ahead of me. Knowing that they are domesticated, I wasn’t concerned – except that I had read that the spit of camelids is extremely unpleasant, and I had no desire to find out. Would trying to pass the alpaca make it spit? Were there things I should, or should not, do? (Note to self: Next time you read about something you want to avoid, find out how to avoid it!) I decided to talk to the animal in what I hoped would be calming voice, which seemed to prompt it to turn toward me. And begin walking toward me. OK, time to go back in the other direction! Two others had stepped onto the path in that direction. Contemplating my options for moving off the path entirely, I saw a young alpaca look at me and look at the one in front of me and at the two behind me and then it walked up a slope toward the first one and gently -- ever so gently, but firmly – very firmly, nudged that big beast off the path.

Upon returning to the hotel, I told the owner – a delightful, English-speaking man I’ll call J2 – about the experience. He said he knew exactly which alpaca had herded the others away – she had been bottle fed by humans, and is apparently particularly attentive to, and protective of us. And he was delighted that I had found, and appreciated, the chullpa.

J2 has arranged for two taxi drivers to serve his guests and, making sure I knew how to contact and identify them, he had one take me into Puno. My goal was the pier, from which J2 had assured me that I would not need to take a tour to the Uros Islands; I could simply take one of the ferries that plies the route with great regularity. Once at the pier, I bought a ticket for the ferry, was convinced to take an inexpensive pedicab to the far end of the pier, and was soon seated on a boat. Only later did I realize that I was not the ferry I wanted – instead, I had somehow inadvertently joined a tour, which took me to only a few select islands with which the tour operator had arrangements – and of course, it was a Spanish-only tour. Argh! Definitely my mistake – I had simply failed to pay attention.

In any event, the half-hour ride on Lake Titikaka was lovely: It was a sunny day, but with enough cumulous clouds to make the sky and its reflections interesting; the “fields” of reeds were both pretty and interesting, and there were glimpses of ducks paddling around or bobbing their heads into the water.

My growing suspicions that I had, in fact, ended up with a tour were confirmed when we reached our first stop and I discovered that there was no way for me to leave the set of islands at which our boat had docked until the boat left. There was some kind of explanation in Spanish, but too rapid for me. I eventually found someone who spoke enough English to confirm that I could either leave when the boat on which I arrived left, or I could wait for the next combi boat – but neither the time nor the schedule of the combis were clear to me. OK, in that case, I tried to make the best of it: I began to look at the crafts displayed on tables in front of each home, and one gentleman spoke enough English to help me understand some of what I was seeing. He invited me into his home so I could better see how it was made, and then showed me some textiles for sale, including creweled pillowcases made by his children. I can’t say I wanted them, but they were nicely stitched and inexpensive, and really, how could I say no when he had been so welcoming?

Finally, the tour left for “Capital Island”, described as holding a hotel (a few rooms were available for rental), a grocery store (a small counter), and a restaurant. Capital Island?—give me a break! I ordered a beer, which I sipped from a roofed pavillion with views out over reeds, waterways, and a few of the islands – a pleasant enough way to while away an hour. After taking one particular picture, I checked it to see if I had caught what I wanted, and OH NO!!! There are long black lines crossing the image! They seem to be on all the photos I'd taken that day. But then I realized that its a scratch on the viewing screen, not the lens itself. Relief!

After enjoying the brief boat ride back, I turned to my first “serious” shopping of the trip, because I had read that the artisans’ market by Puno’s pier would be a good place to purchase alpaca products. It was a delight to admire the fibers and colors and patterns and textures of the many goods for sale in this market, and I appreciated the low-key approach of its vendors. Reluctant to do buy too many bulky products (I still had 4 changes of hotel to face!), I focused on the items I suspected would be most competitive here, rather than in the Sacred Valley, and am very pleased with the items I purchased, the prices I paid, and the pleasantness of the process of bargaining for them.

In contrast, the taxi drivers of Puno seemed pushier than any I experienced elsewhere in Peru, repeatedly shouting at me and trying to convince me that wherever I was going, it was too far to walk. And maybe it was, as I was again experiencing the effects of altitude (having moved up to about 3,800 meters). But I wanted to walk to Puno’s Plaza de Armas and if I had to do so ever so slowly and with frequent breaks, well, I like seeing places by foot. It was hot and intensely sunny, but I had my hat and sunscreen and sunglasses, and there were little bits of shade on the way. In return for my “exertions,” I saw some decorative features in the main road’s medial strip and shops frequented by local people and a small church-side park with benches filled by old men sitting silently side by side and mothers chatting as their children ran around their feet and teenagers finding ways to move incessantly even as they stayed in essentially the same place….

Finally reaching the main square, I found an iPeru office just to its side, where I got a map and some information. It was just steps along a pedestrian-only road, lined with interesting images set within the pavement, to the Museo Carlos Dreyer. This very small collection held some pieces that I thought well worth seeing, including – in particular – a recreation of a chullpa (one of the funerary towers of the pre-Incan cultures of the area) and three of its mummies.

I then entered the Cathedral, where – to my surprise – a service was underway … and was being conducted by a woman! I’m glad to have seen a few bits of this interesting sanctuary, which again seemed to combine Catholic with ancient images and symbolism, but I didn’t want to disturb the worshippers and so left as discretely and quickly as I could.

As I walked through the Plaza de Armas, where topiary artists have shaped the greenery, a small parade was forming – lots of children and (unless I was much mistaken) some squadrons of police officers and a police band. It didn’t take long for them to circumnavigate the small square; the cheers of family and friends seemed to last twice as long!

I had arranged for one of J2’s drivers to meet me; he arrived just as the last of the families were shifting from applause to hugs. Once at the hotel, I made arrangements to depart early (far too early!) the next morning, freshened up, and again enjoyed the now just barely post-sunset views over Puno and Lake Titikaka.

And then I entered another taxi for a ride to Balcones de Puno, a dinner theater where musicians and dancers make full use of a tiny stage to perform in a variety of styles ranging from traditional through Colonial to current ones. Enthusiasm abounded, even in those rare moments when technical skill or experience fell short. I was very impressed by the food, which was of a far higher quality than I have come to expect from dinner theaters. I began with a wonderful quinoa soup, then had a truly sumptuous and beautifully plated alpaca in gooseberry sauce, and ended with a tasty bit of flan; my kudos to the servers who managed timely and discreet service. Oh, I am one lucky person!

Back to the Mirador del Titikaka, I tried to commit to memory a few last glimpses of a glorious night sky and of the ways in which nighttime lights and shadows illuminated and hid the lake and city and surrounds before burrowing into my cozy bed.


Next up: Puno to the Sacred Valley.

Glad you got to see one Colca Canyon church interior at least! They told us that the Spanish Government had helped with their restoration.
Yes, I did mean your time in Ayacucho, sleeping much higher than Arequipa, likely helped your later acclimatization. I didn't find that Arequipa helped much at all for Colca Canyon. The latter is higher than Cusco and I also had to walk quite slowly to make it up to those ruins.I sort of wanted to cry the next day, trying to do the free walk that Killawasi puts on, especially the last part from the hot springs at the river after already having climbed up to Uyu Uyu. Some day I'll have to calculate the elevation gain on that walk. Never made it to dinner that night.

Balcones de Puno sounds nice. There was a similar dinner show in Bolivia (Sucre) that I enjoyed, also with Balcones in the name, although your meal sounds better. I hope they didn't try to drag you up on the stage at the end of the show?

My Uros Island experience was pretty much the same as yours. That was why I've usually recommended doing a tour with All Ways, since that will likely have an English speaking guide.

Love the "guardian llama" story! They warned us at Mama Yaachi that their llama was mean.

Love how detailed you describe your trip… seems you really enjoy every moment of it… you inspired me and make me think of visiting the place… it may not be perfect but it’s organized, great journey!

@ mlgb: I can’t believe you found the strength to hike to the river and Uyu Uyu and back up -- kudos! I struggled with just the gentle slope to the mirador. And I’m glad to report that there was no effort to drag me or anyone else onto the stage at Balcones de Puno, as antics like that don't "sit" well with me.

@ NorenePalmer: Thanks for chiming in! While there were some moments that I definitely did not enjoy (see post # 13), I found a great deal to enjoy on this journey and am very glad I went. Let me know if you have any questions!

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Days 24 to 25: Puno to Aguas Calientes
Day 24: Puno to Ollantaytambo

I claimed a bagged breakfast left for me at the Mirador’s desk (boxed juice and various crackers – nothing special, but very welcome) just as my taxi driver arrived; he conveyed me with courtesy and efficiency to the InkaExpress desk at Puno’s (confusing) bus station. My plan for this day was to take the InkaExpress tour from Puno to Cusco (aka Cuzco), from which I had for arranged transport via taxidatum to Ollantaytambo, where I would spend the night.

This InkaExpress tour employed a full-size bus, complete with a limited-use WC; a nice young hostess who provided us with beverages as we traveled (and gave me something to warm my feet for the first part of our trip – OMG, they were so cold!); and a guide – K – who was adept at interweaving humor into his very informative English-language commentaries about not only the places we visited, but also about Peru more generally. Once again, I won’t try to walk any reader through this tour – instead, I’ll comment on some of the experiences that seemed most salient to me.

At some point fairly early in our journey, K told us that there was a strike against fuel prices in the Cusco area that day, and as a result, we might have trouble entering the area. (Cusco, the city, is just part of a broader region also called Cusco.) He said that such strikes usually end sometime before sunset, and that InkaExpress would be monitoring the situation to make sure we were safe and informed. In the meantime, we would have a bit more time than initially planned at all of the stops we were to make outside of the Cusco region…. (From my perspective: bonus! )

We visitied:
· Pukara, with its tiny (but informative) museum and ancient ruins, dominated by a spectacular rock formation;

· The highest past of this particular route, at about 4,500 meters, IIRC, where I couldn’t resist buying a few more alpaca items;

· A restaurant where, in anticipation of a day without any other sit-down meal, I joined some of my fellow travelers for a buffet lunch that held a very nice array of tasty options;

· Raqchi, an intriguing Incan archeological site – my first “truly” Incan ruin! – with storage facilities and housing and the walls of a huge ceremonial structure, not to mention a lovely pond, complete with ducks, that was too rectangular to be anything other than artificial; and, finally,

· San Pedro Apóstol – but I’ll wait a bit to speak about this church.

Before Raqchi, as we approached the border with Cusco, the bus slowed and then stopped because of the strike; forward motion was very slow thereafter. I don’t pretend to know the issues well enough to have an informed opinion, but I can say that I found the experience quite interesting. It was entirely peaceful – or at least, I saw nothing to make me believe otherwise; I saw many people in both traditional garb and in uniforms standing quietly along various strips of roadside. At one point, I saw a man running while vigorously shaking white paint off his hands; I was later to learn that he had just immersed his hands in a bucket of white paint and fingered a protest on our bus’s front windshield. When the bus next moved forward, I saw a set of roughly hemispheric stones blocking the lane to our right, and a cluster of them just to the side of the lane we traversed – stones that had been removed to let us pass. Fascinating!

Because of the delays associated with this strike, our tour would likely not reach San Pedro Apóstol de Andahuaylillas before it closed – but apparently, InkaExpress convinced the church to remain open – how kind of the San Pedro staff! We reached the church just as the last rays of sunset struck its impressive portal, and K then took us through this extraordinary space, sometimes called “the Sistine Chapel of the Andes” because of the wealth of its decorations – stern Dominican portraits above delicate floral Jesuit murals; an astonishingly intact painted Moorish roof over a space that combines Catholic and Incan and pre-Incan images; gold and silver and priceless woods…. I was gob-smacked! It is truly an astonishing place, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have seen it.

But time was a-ticking, and I worried about the arrangements I had made for my arrival in Cusco. K couldn’t have been more helpful – he reached my taxidatum driver in plenty of time to make sure that the driver’s arrival at the Cusco bus station matched our actual arrival time. That driver was there, and he kindly accomodated my request to find an ATM before leaving Cusco. He then took me to Ollantaytambo with courtesy and skillful driving that demonstrated knowledge of, and respect for, the terrain. I must admit that I hadn’t fully appreciated that the area was surrounded by truly high peaks, and so was fascinated by the many glimpses of snow-capped peaks that shimmered in the distance, even if in the light of the nearly full moon.

I was tired when we arrived at La Casa del Abuelo Riverside, but my host there was very patient and accomodating. He showed me to my basic, if very serviceable room, and made sure I had what I needed (including a beer), before leaving me to settle in for the night. Across the street, a tiny garden edged a rushing creek; I couldn’t see either very well, but I could hear the water. Nice!


Day 25: On to Aguas Calientes

To my surprise, given it’s otherwise convenient access to Machu Picchu, La Casa del Abuelo Riverside seem ill-prepared for guests who wanted to leave for an early train. It all worked out, but I felt a frisson of fear throughout breakfast (tasty!) and then checkout.

With the help of a tuktuk that cost more than I think would have been reasonable (but I wasn’t willing to protest, under the circumstances), I reached the train station and, after a few confusing moments, found my way to the waiting area, where I encountered more Westerners than I had seen in one place since, what … my layover in Miami? Time to reset! The train soon boarded, and it was clear that this operation was designed for the efficient (and reasonably comfortable) transport of Westerners.

The ride takes about 1.5 hours, and I thought the scenery breathtaking. The tracks follow a rushing river for much of the route (but that river has some places that are so still that one would never suspect the surrounding rapids), and there are glorious glacier-topped mountains in the distance, and the train descends from the drier higher altitudes to the cloud forest of the lower parts of this valley, so both the geology changed and the vegetation changed. Delightful and beautiful and intriguing!

As I had arranged, someone (R) from my hotel met me at the station – and thank goodness, as there was absolutely no way that I could have recreated his steps! As I was to confirm later, the entrance to the train station in Aguas Calientes is buried deep within an artisans’ market, and let me offer my sincere best wishes to anyone who tries to navigate that market without knowledge or assistance.

Too early to check into my room, I left my overnight bag at the hotel (having stored my suitcase in Ollantaytambo), helped myself to some coca tea, studied the maps and information R provided, and soon left to visit Machu Picchu.


Next up: Machu Picchu and Ollantaytambo

Still following along with great interest. You are bring the place to life. It is like I am walking alongside you at times . Thanks for naming the places on the Inka express route, I have been meaning to update our blog with that trip. I have loads of photos but not a clue as to where they are. I really should pay more attention to guides in the future!

I love the description of your encounter with the French tourist in Santa Catalina. It has given me an idea for an article - “Guess the Nationality?”
I
am no linguist, but out f necessity, I have learned to order beer, find the toilet, get a table for two and buy bus tickets in over ten languages. with increasing numbers of tourist across the world. I think I will add “would you mind awfully moving out of the way” (or maybe something more forceful?

I'll spend some of this weekend reading the sections I missed so far, I really enjoy your writing style and traveling style. Glad to see you got to Aguas Caliente in your story, I will follow it more closely.

@ crellston: Good to know you’re still walking (or plodding) by my side -- particularly as I often followed in your footsteps!

Before any trip, I learn enough of the language of my destination to say the same things you mention, and generally a bit (but not much) more. (Unfortunately, what I learn tends to slip into a “not English” mush, allowing me – when stressed -- to come up with sentences including words from a half dozen different languages and an inability to understand why no one around me finds my perfectly ennunciated non-English statement comprehensibile.) Of course, I also know some non-verbal expressions that would have suited my interaction with the French woman quite well – and I think I deserve enormous credit for declining to use them.


@ xyz99: Thanks for the kind words and welcome back!

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Days 25 to 26: Machu Picchu, Aguas Calientes, and Ollantaytambo
Day 25, cont: Machu Pichu and Aguas Calientes

I had reserved tickets for Machu Picchu months before, so only had to buy the tickets for the bus. The line for the bus tickets wasn’t too long, but took quite a while; once I had my bus tickets in hand, I crossed the street to join the very long, but rapidly moving, line for a bus. My wait was actually just a few minutes, as I was the first solo traveler in the line, and the first newly arrived bus ended up with a single unfilled seat, which I was invited to take. The 20-minute bus ride would have been the stuff of my nightmares, except that the road is limited to the nearly continuous stream of buses, and the drivers obviously know the road and know exactly where to stop to ensure that those traveling in the opposite direction have the space needed to maneuver around each turn.

Safely reaching the top of the bus road, and the actual entrance to Machu Picchu, I soon hired an English speaking guide: An absolutely delightful man, “B2” obviously loves Machu Picchu and everything about it – I feel incredibly fortunate to have had the chance to visit this incomparable site with his guidance! I also appreciated his patience – with all my questions, we spent much longer than is typical. Among so many other intriguing aspects of Machu Picchu, I treasured:
· The vistas – oh, those incredibly breathtaking views!
· Architectural details – how wooden doors had been used to seal stone portals, use of a cylinder – essentially, a wheel -- to position building stones, interior stairways, etc.;
· Insights into life in Machu Picchu during the time of the Incans, and when Hiram Bingham “discovered” it, and now – as it struggles with the many thousands of tourists who visit it daily and who are, unfortunately, endangering it;
· The Sacred Rock, and B2’s guidance on how to make an appropriate offering;
· The many ways in which the mountain had been brought into the ceremonial centers, including the stunning Condor Temple;
· Seeing the temples where the summer and winter solstices are marked;
· A newborn llama and a pair of fighting lizards and a grazing chinchilla; and
· So much more!

One thing I did not treasure: the corpse of a small snake that had been positioned on the stones of one wall. Someone had apparently killed that beautiful black and white with red snake for no reason – it was harmless. B2 had a video showing him with that snake. But someone had broken its neck and then posed it. How incredibly sad, and so utterly unnecessary.

I had wanted to see Machu Picchu for a very long time, and admit that as this day approached, I wondered if it might be a bit of a let-down: I had seen such amazing pre-Columbian sights elsewhere in Peru! Machu Picchu did not disappoint – I found it magnificent and intriguing and as breathtakingly beautiful as all those pictures that I had thought could only have resulted from photoshopping or incredible luck. I just hope that Peru finds a way to protect it.

As I waited my turn in the very, very long line of people waiting for a bus back down the mountain, a thin layer of clouds began to cross the peaks across the way. As those clouds shifted and undulated and dissolved and reformed, I saw the ways in which mist transformed the landscape – soooo lovely, and so evocative!

Once back in Aguas Calientes, I stopped for a beer at a table from which I could see the river cascading through the greenery at the base of mountains. While there, I reconsidered my plans: Given the vaguaries of weather, I had purchased tickets to visit Machu Picchu twice, this afternoon and the next morning, but I had seen the site on a gloriously beautiful day, and had even had the benefit of seeing the mists begin to shroud it. In contrast, I had not had time to visit Ollantaytambo’s ruins. And I now knew that even with tickets, I might end up waiting a very long while for a bus to or from Machu Picchu. While I would love to spend more time at that stunning and fascinating mountain enclave, I decided that I would probably only be able to do so with substantial anxiety about whether I could return in time for my train, and therefore decided that I would forego my visit the next day. Instead, I would try to take an earlier train to Ollantaytambo. I stopped at a nearby train office to confirm that I would, in all probability, be able to switch my ticket the next morning.

I then roamed around Aguas Calientes for a while, stopping in the church on its main square (which has large glass panels on one side of the nave dividing it from what looked like offices – something I had never seen before). I also took advantage of the opportunity to capture images of some colorful contrasts in a small produce market and scope my dinner options. I strolled into the artisans’ market, but after just a few minutes, was hit in the face by three different backpacks, and so turned to leave – and was hit another four times before I could reach the street. Argh.

Back at the Panorama B&B, I was delighted to find that I had a spacious room with a small balcony that offered a very nice view – with some obscuring greenery -- of the river below and a valley between steep hills through which a set of waterfalls topple. Nice!

After relaxing for a while, I went to Apu Init for dinner – delicious! I started with a cream of corn soup, which I followed with an alpaca entrée. I’m definitely going to have to figure out how to get alpaca once I get home.

I sat on my balcony briefly before turning to the cozy warmth of my room – I couldn’t see much of the night sky, but I could see a little, and I could hear the water.


Day 26: Aguas Calientes through Ollantaytambo

Pleased with the Panorama’s breakfast options – a small buffet, supplemented by eggs to order – I returned to “my” balcony to catch up on my journal before leaving. R helped me maneuver the artisans’ market, and I was, indeed, able to switch to an earlier train.

I once again enjoyed the scenery – such a beautiful area! And LOL, the train stopped for a while so that the staff could mount a fashion show -- apparently, PeruRail is selling high-end vicuña and alpaca goods. If not something I would have planned, it was actually fun, in large part because my fellow passengers joined in the spirit of the event.

Back in Ollantaytambo, I put my overnight bag in storage and took a taxi to the ruins, where I hired a woman -- Mo -- to help me understand what I would see. Kudos to Mo, who not only shared very helpful information, but who also proved a very effective coach – these steeply terraced ruins involved more of a climb than I thought I’d be able to manage, but she slowly and patiently got me to the top.

The Ollantaytambo ruins are interesting for many reasons, one of which is that the site was abandoned while it was still being constructed, and so it allows insights into Incan building techniques that aren’t necessarily clear at other locations. I had already come to appreciate the building skills of the Incas -- their walls of sometimes massive stone blocks, fitted together without mortar, reminded me of those built by Mycenaeans. But until I saw this site, I had not understood that the blocks of stone had been shaped to form sockets, with corresponding protuberances on adjacent blocks – they were literally crafted to fit into one other. Wow! Apparently, this effort gave Incan walls unusual resistance to earthquakes.

But even while these ruins give this insight into Incan architecture, Mo drew my attention to some reliefs on the walls of the Sun Temple that many believe to be far more typical of the Aymaran cultures from the Bolivian side of Lake Titikaka than of Incan culture. Intriguing!

As I was examining some of those details, I heard my name and turned to find myself heartily embraced by one of the men who had been among my fellow travelers on the tour from Arequipa to Puno. He and his partner and I had only a few moments to chat before their guide called them on.

Mo made sure I saw the route that had been used by the Incas to move the stone for this center from a quarry across the river, and then we made our way down just as hordes of people arrived on their bus tours of the area. We visited the fountains to the side of the terraces briefly before parting. What an interesting site!

I then roamed around Ollantaytambo for a while, appreciating the ways in which various original Inca buildings, or at least their foundations, are still in use. I saw one woman who had positioned herself where tourists could see her work a back-loom, so I watched for a while and obtained her permission to take a few pictures. I was prepared to (and did) provide nominal recompense for that privilege; I was not prepared to (and did not) give anything to a second woman who tried to insert herself into the picture, thereby obscuring my view of the use of the loom.

I returned to the little B&B where I had stayed -- La Casa del Abuelo Riverside – so I could retrieve my suitcase and await my taxidatum driver. If the road seemed a bit deserted at first, it was nice to see the garden and stream by daylight! Once the driver arrived, we stopped at the train station so I could pick up my overnight bag and then set off.


Next up: Pisac

Glad you were able to enjoy Manchu Picchu on a nice day. I share your sentiments on the site. I'm looking forward to your impressions of Pisac, which I enjoyed as much.

Our plan for MP is the same as your original one: first day afternoon + next morning. We'll get a guide the first day, and I read that you don't one the next day if/when you show the tickets the next day. So the thought is to soak in all the guide info the 1st day, and focus on photography and a hike to the Sun Gate the next morning. Hope to have good weather both days.
And good to know what you can cover everything (or at least most of the important parts) in one afternoon. We'll be staying in AC too.

The Inca's construction technique sounds fascinating!

@ tripplanner001: Machu Picchu really is a stunner, isn’t it? But while I can't disagree with you when it comes to Pisac, I'm not sure I can agree, either -- read on, if you will.

@ xyz99: I think your plan for Machu Picchu makes sense, and hope your experience there is as wonderful as mine. And if you don’t make it to Ollantaytambo to see the interlocking blocks of Incan walls, I think there are also some places you can see that at Qorikancha in Cusco; you might need a guide to help you identify them.

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One more observation from my time at Machu Picchu: I forgot to mention that while I was there, an emergency crew came through carrying someone who had a medical emergency near the Sun Gate. It was impressive to see their concern and their coordination; they were clearly well practiced in negotiating the narrow walkways in a safe manner. B2 confirmed that I had, indeed, seen a helipad near the train station, and that they would evacuate the injured person promptly if doing so proved necessary. While very glad that I didn't need their assistance, it was reassuring to see that the site is well prepared for handling such emergencies.


Day 26 to 28: Pisac and on to Cusco
Day 26, cont.: Pisac

The ride to Pisac was wonderfully scenic – glaciated snow caps in the distance during parts of the trip; flood plains given over to agriculture; terraces holding green crops ascending hills to every side; glimpses of a river that sometimes meandered and sometimes flowed rapidly; a few frustratingly brief glimpses of a fiesta in progress at one village….

Once in Pisac, the driver pulled up next to a place on the main square and unloaded my luggage, but I was quite certain that I was not staying on the main square! It took a moment, but I finally communicated that I was staying elsewhere and got him to pay attention to the address. He put my luggage back in his trunk, consulted his smartphone, and off we went – until he came to a stop, turned, and drove on – until he stopped, turned, and drove on – until he stopped…. Bewildered, I could see that the driver was trying to follow directions provided on his smart phone, but when repeated efforts failed, I didn’t understand why he didn’t stop to ask someone. I chose to consider the experience an opportunity to learn a bit about Pisac.

Eventually, the driver did ask someone, and then someone else, and then he parked just before a cross street that was completely dug up. He had apparently obtained confirmation that my B&B was just beyond this intersection and he carried my suitcase there, but then we couldn’t find anyone to let us in…. To be truthful, it was all rather unsettling.

Once greeted, I thought the Pisac Inca Guest House a good choice. “L" proved to be a very gracious host, as was the young woman who helped her. It was a few blocks to the main square – only a 5- or 10-minute walk – but far enough to be quiet, and it was on the edge of town, and so offered some delightful views over the valley bottom and into the terraced hills lining the Sacred Valley.

The guesthouse had a shaded deck on top of its breakfast room, so I bought a bottle of wine, poured myself a glass, and went to that terrace. I couldn’t actually see the sun set, but I did see the sky shift from day to night as I savored the views. I also felt the dramatic drop in temperatures that seems to accompany that shift in this part of the world, so with an appreciative glance at the sky, where stars were beginning to glitter, I returned to my room.

L had recommended a restaurant called Ulrike’s, and I found it to be a very casual and welcoming café. The menu del dia was available in the evening, and it was tasty! I had quinoa soup, a generous serving of aji de gallina, and lemon cheesecake, all delicious! Hoping to find an ATM, I roamed the town for a while after dinner. (Translation: I got lost. But Pisac is small, so I got re-oriented again rather easily.)

Returning to the guesthouse, I was surprised to find that there was no longer any evidence that the intersection that had caused so much trouble had been anything other than intact earlier in the day. Strange! Happy to find my way, I soon also found my way to sleep.


Day 27: Pisac

Very satisfied with the breakfast at the Pisac Inca Guest House, and armed with ideas about the gifts I would likely consider for friends and family, I headed into the heart of Pisac and entered its massive Sunday market – stall after stall after stall in the large main square, and multiple shops on the lanes extending from there, and it was almost all devoted to artisans’ crafts. (There was a small area in the square itself where I saw produce and other foods, some hot.) My goal was to do the majority of my shopping in this market, and I succeeded. It was fun to see the goods, and if many were similar to products I had seen in many previous markets, there were a few unique items. And bargaining for prices – something I once feared and abhored – was pleasant; vendors seemed as interested in making it an amicable exchange as I, and laughter was common.

One of the unexpected delights of the morning was following my nose to a horno and savoring a bit of freshly backed bread. So delicious, so wonderfully aromatic!

By complete serendipity, I had returned to the main square and, distracted by my thoughts about a last few purchases, I was passing the cathedral when a group of musicians in traditional attire emerged; and then youngsters who tossed rose petals to create a path; and then dancers, also in traditional dress… and then priests in vestments carried ceremonial objects along the rose-petal path, followed by many members of the congregation, often in traditional dress. And then the priests re-entered the church, followed by members of the congregation, and then the dancers (asking for donations), and then the musicians (also asking for donations) – and even before then, youngsters had begun gathering up the rose petals for a purpose I never learned. (Oh – L hadn’t been warning me about the mess on the square at noon, she had been telling me about the mass! I should have figured that one out.) I’m so glad I experienced this festive procession!

After taking my purchases back to my room and inquiring about reasonable taxi fares to the ruins above the town of Pisac, I walked to an area designated for official taxis and negotiated a one-way fare -- I wanted to explore the ruins and then walk back into town. As L had helped me understand, the taxi takes what seems to be an extremely circuitous route, but it is one dictated by the terrain. I appreciated some lovely views as we turned and twisted and climbed to an entry area.

Although I had asked for a one-way fare, the driver kept trying to suggest that he should wait and offered various prices for doing so. It was surprisingly difficult to convince him that I planned to walk back to town! And then I met the most aggressive and unpleasant tour guide of my month in Peru, a man who boldly asserted that I could not possibly understand what I would see without a guide and even tried to convince me that hiring one was a requirement of the site. (Of course, it is not.) Honestly, I’m sure I would have learned from a guide – but I just wanted to roam around on my own, and I certainly didn't want to visit it with him!

I entered the site and began exploring the buildings nearest the entrance, glad to have a few quiet moments on my own. Moving into the area by the terraces, I was awed – it was so beautiful! Casting my eyes across the artfully curved terraces, with their lush vegetation, I re-learned a lesson I really should know by heart: Never, ever, ever take your eyes off the ground for any length of time. Yep, I fell. Picking myself up, I was relieved to find that I was surprisingly free of injury – except for another sprained ankle. A rather badly sprained ankle.

I was able to explore the parts of the Pisac ruins that were more-or-less on a level with the entryway -- and I’m glad that I found much to see at that level!, but a few tentative tests convinced me that I couldn’t climb, so exploring the main civic / ceremonial zone was out of the question. And I wasn’t about to risk further injury by hiking back into Pisac. So I slowly – very, very slowly – hobbled back to the parking area. To my surprise, “my” driver was still there, and he immediately recognized me. (He hadn’t been waiting for me – he was just waiting to see if someone else wanted to go back to town.) Grateful for having seen a least a bit of the Pisac ruins, and grateful for being almost entirely intact, I again appreciated the views on the way back to town.

After icing my ankle a bit, I decided to treat myself to a dinner at the Pisac Inn’s restaurant, Cuchara de Palo. I claimed a very pleasant window-side table within comfortable distance of its wood-burning stove. Just after I ordered, something began happening on the Plaza de Armas, just outside: People in costume (not traditional dress – costume! As in tall, black, feathered headdresses and belled anklets, etc. ) were gathering and moving into parade formation. Musicians with drums and horns began their part as the excitement of the crowd built.

So thankful that I had just happened to be sitting at a table with a good (if somewhat obstructed) view of these developments, I barely noticed when my salad was served. I began eating, eyes on the events outside, and appreciated that it was a tasty salad and only slowly realized that I wasn’t eating what I had ordered – I had ordered (or at least thought I had ordered) a cooked appetizer; this was fresh. And unless I was very much mistaken, it had cheese that hadn’t been cooked. Oh no! I so very clearly remember my travel physician – who completed some of her training in Peru – saying, with decided emphasis, do not ever, ever, EVER, eat cheese that hasn’t been cooked while in Peru. I literally dropped my fork!

Well, nothing I could do about it then except hope. During this “ignorance is bliss” phase, I enjoyed my entree (lamb cilantro) and then went outside to better see the processions that were forming and dancing and entertaining crowds. I asked L about it later, and can’t guarantee that I understood correctly, but I believe that what I saw was the start of an annual procession of village groups who would walk from Pisac to Cusco. Whatever it was, it was fascinating! I saw at least four different groups, marked by different costumes, pass through Pisac’s Plaza de Armas. I think the dances represent pairs of men (I couldn’t tell whether any of the performers were female) who took turns “competing” in performances judged by "elders" – but I could be absurdly mistaken. I will admit that I found the music so repetitive as to be mildly irritating, but I was otherwise fascinated by the event and the festivities and the delightful expressions of the many children who were in the audience and the supportive cheers of the many adults surrounding the plaza. The event was still underway when I hobbled to my hotel, again glad that I had chosen to stay in a quiet place a bit off the main square.


Day 28: Pisac to Cusco

My worst fears about the salad / cheese I had eaten the night before proved justified. Enough said. When I was able to walk to the breakfast area, I sipped a cup of mint tea, which I had heard might prove beneficial, while L kindly prepared a cup of tea using an herb that her mother had told her would suit the occasion – I think it was muña, but I could easily be mistaken.

I was just finishing that tea when a taxi driver arrived, followed by a few very confusing moments: I had arranged for a taxidatum driver to take me through various sites in the Sacred Valley en route to Cusco; it seems that a young man who was also staying at the guesthouse had also arranged for a driver, but just to take him to Cusco. Everyone seemed to think that this taxi was his – but I wasn’t so sure, and kept asking for someone to confirm the details. It was, in fact, my driver who had arrived early. I checked out, and having confirmed that the driver’s English was limited, had L let him know that I was not well; he assured her (and she assured me) that he understood and would help me see what I could.

It would be a gross understatement to say that I did not feel well during this trip, and the many uneven road surfaces we encountered did not make my experience more comfortable. Nonetheless, I am so glad I had that day, as the scenery was glorious! We spent some time near the river, but much of the trip was in higher lands (if not as high as the altiplano), where seemingly endless fields of yellow and green grasses and grains stretched into the distance, and then, after a gap that marked the valley itself, stunning mountains – some snowcapped, some purpled by distance – defined the horizon. Too, my driver made sure to stop at a few panoramic viewing points – such awesome views!

I thought the salt mines of Maras beautiful. My driver made sure that we stopped at a place offering a stunning overview, so once at the actual site, I felt no need to see more than a small area near the entrance. Likewise, I thought the experimental terraces of Moray fascinating, but I didn’t feel the need to explore each and every inch.

By the time we reached Chincheros, I knew I had reached my limit – after a very few tentative steps, I asked the driver to take me straight to Cusco. Thankfully, we did finally reach the absolutely delightful Niños Hotel Meloc, where I was shown to a very comfortable room on the second floor of this classic Colonial courtyard hotel. I went straight to bed and slept for hours. Upon awakening sometime during the evening, I went to the hotel’s café for a cup of mint tea and some toast, and then returned to bed. With my GI difficulties and my twisted ankle and my ongoing difficulties with altitude and various other aches and pains, I was, to put it mildly, a wreck! Perhaps you will congratulate me for my efficiency in combining all of these maladies into a single day that otherwise didn’t actually require much exertion?

Next up: Cusco, my last destination in Peru

Oh dear oh dear oh dear..what an unfortunately inefficient day! Good that you also stumbled onto the Mass (not mess) procession and the surprise festival dances.

I liked Ulrike's also.. Your guest house looks nice, well located and reasonably priced..good find!

Sorry about your mishap and it limiting your visit to Pisac and Chinchero. Both were very much highlights for me.

Too bad about your stumble and the cheese. I had a cheese incident when in Peru. I didn't think about what I was eating, it was delicious cheese, but paid for it that night. Aside from MP I thought the Pisac ruins the best.