Adventures of Blue Mouse

Lima

The capital city and our last stop on the South America tour.  What a contrast to the other Peruvian cities we´ve been to so far, admittedly in the southwestern corner of the country.  Lima is hustle and bustle, cars speeding of freeways and stopping with amazing braking and swerving techniques as each car/bus/lorry just manages to miss each other, announcing the fact with loud horns and beeps.   People everywhere, walking, talking, selling, buying.  Lima is a street-city, and walking is probably the best way to see it, although having said that, one in every seven cars is a taxi….

So our first day we wandered the streets in Miraflores, a suburb of Lima, followed by today heading to  the Centre, to see the ubiquitous Plaza de Armas, the Palace, and to  watch the changing of the guard, to the tune of Torville and Dean´s Bolero with plenty of goose-stepping and swishing of silvery swords.  There were also plenty of cows, the statue type, as here in Lima is the Parade of Cows. I´m sure  I´ve seen these before somewhere….

 

 

Back to Miraflores for postcard-writing, eating and of course packing, for our departure tomorrow.  Cuba here we come!

Nasca

Back to the middle of the desert for us, after the wet-dry seasons of the Sacred Valley, here it is just… dry.  Endless red-brown sand and hot, and dry. The road cuts through hills and where there is water there is a strip of green or two to break up the ongoing dust.  Eventually we leave the coastal raod and head inland to Nasca, a small town now deluged with tourists coming (us included)to see the famous Nasca Lines. 

The best way to see them is from the air, which is a mystery in itself because the lines were created by a people 1500 years ago, and there is no way they could have seen them from above (assuming you discount the theory that they knew how to make hot air balloons.)

So into the air we went, in a 5-seater Cessna which banked left and right to give everyone a great view… if you were looking, that is.  Poor Chris was counting the seconds til we got down, and clutching his sick bag tightly eek!

The lines are made by taking the top layer of stones and piling them up at the side, to leave a lighter colour underneath. Simple.  The mystery is why they are there, why a culture spent so much time making elaborate shapes that they couldn´t see.  Water ways is one theory, astronomy is another, religion is the most plausible, alien encounters the most unlikely.  But no-one knows, which means you can look and look and then just enjoy them for the patterns and designs that they are. Turbulence aside!

The bus journey from hell...

I am now officially fed up of buses. In Argentina they were a pleasure, I mean we even managed a total of 33hours on one trip. After over 2months of them, I think I´m bussed out. In fact I know I am.

And so, having finished our fantastic Inca trail hike, we set off to Arequipa. Leaving at 9am we´d been assured we would be arriving at 6.30pm. Ish.

We arrived 11hours late. It was horrible.

After we were on the road we were told that the road we were due to have been travelling on had been shut, closed by strikers complaining at water access. I only found this out when I went to ask why we seemed to be well and truly behind schedule. At that point I also discovered that we´d been lied to from the outset and our original projected arrival time was actually 9pm, so hey, suppose we were only 8hours late in reality. Mmmm. It still ensured that we had to do an overnight journey (our 9^th) having only intended to be on for a few hours. Boy was I unimpressed. We were also fully aware of the fact that taxis in Arequipa aren´t necessarily the safest- so when we were told that we were due to get off at 3am… well I´m sure you can imagine.

At least, however, we weren´t in quite as bad a position as two friends of ours- Vicky and Vanessa ended up having to abandon bus, walk for 2 hours through the desert and hop on another bus on the far side. Now that does not sound fun at all!

And so it is that tomorrow we´re using a plane- off to Havana and a different travel experience, hurrah for the variation!

Chris

Machu Picchu

Walking at altitude can offer such delights as only having half of the amount of oxygen found at sea level. As a result you tend to puff and pant, your legs get heavier and walking can generally be a bit more challenging.

To counter this Ali and I both did a fair bit of running before we left, culminating in a ten mile race a week before we left. Proper job.

That was, however, over 2 months ago. So as we faced the steps up to our hostel in San Blas, Cusco, knowing that they would leave us out of breath, I´m sure you´ll understand we faced our 4am start on Monday with trepidation. The famous Inca trail awaited. 4 days, 3nights building up to one of the world´s most truly stunning sights- the majesty that is Machu Picchu.

 

In the end we needn´t have worried. Don´t get me wrong, it was hard. Dead Woman´s Pass on the 2^nd day, rising up to 4200metres above sea level, uneven rocks on the path and a climb that leaves your lungs cringing every time you start afresh, the rest helping your legs, easing the breathing for a few moments but breaking any rhythm. But we managed it all, and were more than suitably rewarded.

For 3 days we walked through mist and rain, stunning vistas on either side of us hidden by the white sheet which threatened to ravage our once-in-a-lifetime trip.

When we were woken up at 3.30am on Thursday, more excited than a kid in a Disneyland advert, the stars that greeted us were one of the best sights I´ve seen in so, so long. Not just for their own beauty but for what they heralded- a clear day. As we queued to get past the checkpoint which opened at 5.30 all we could think about was the Sun Gate an hour´s walk away and that precious first view of Machu Picchu, suddenly emerging around a bend far below. Desperately walking as fast as we could, compared to the gentler, team-supported previous 3 days, all of us wanted that first glimpse in the sunlight.

2 minutes before I arrived, a minute or 2 ahead of Ali, the clouds dropped. So did the spirits. All I could see was white with a vague outline seemingly miles away, any detail blurred out.

By the time Ali arrived that same cloud was showing signs that it had actually decided not to sit there all day. Out came the views, out came the smiles and most definitely out came the cameras!

 

 

But hey, that´s getting ahead of myself- missing the first 3 days and not describing the wonders of our Llamapath team really would be a crime.

When you face up to 3 reasonably tough days of walking, especially in the wet season, you´re always going to be a bit concerned about how you´ll feel. Llamapath made it a pleasure. Their team of red-uniformed porters (not carrying any of Ali or my kit, let it be mentioned) were truly superhuman. They charge up the hillsides in a long line, visible from afar, 25kg of weight on their backs, including some surprising things, as we were to discover. Getting to the first lunch stop we were greeted by a dining tent but also individual bowls of water and soap to scrub up before eating. (Warm water bowls, soap and towels were also ready by our tents in the evening, true luxury camping!) and  To then be presented with a metal dish containing a small avocado salad we knew this would not be like any other hike we´d ever done. The food, freshly prepared by the hiking chef and all the porters, was delicious. I mean, on the second day we even had pancakes for breakfast!! Each night we had happy hour- popcorn and tea. Now anyone out there who really knows Ali and I will know that we are very much stomach-influenced. And this was truly a great influence. Walking, especially in the rain, always feels better when you know there´ll be a cuppa and plenty of grub waiting for you at the end.

 

 

The only problem was that at altitude you often don´t eat as much. The grinning porters weren´t complaining as they tucked into the leftovers, that´s for sure.

But we weren´t just there to walk and to munch. Some of the views, even with the often heavy clouds, were stunning. Mountainsides, cloud forests, immense vistas, the amazing rock trails themselves and, f course, a large number of Inca ruins growing ever more dramatic as we approached the famous citadel itself. Beautiful.

 

 

And as we were with our group for our trip to the salt flats of Bolivia, our group for the hike was fantastic, with 2 girls even being from within about 7miles from where I grew up. Everyone was willing to support each other rather than being there simply for themselves, whilst the travels stories flowed as the light disappeared.

So, Machu Picchu, the big moment. Truly beautiful, a word which couldn´t possibly do justice to the imagination-defying construction. Even though you, like me, have probably seen the famous image so many times it´s hard to grasp just how mountain-enclosed and isolated the place is. 500years ago, yet in places the quality of construction, the precision used is far beyond any that would ever be proposed today, especially taking into consideration the lack of machine tools available to its builders. To understand the concept of fault lines and to earthquake-proof the entire construction, in a seismically active area, I just can´t express the wonder. There really is something special in the air. Even though it can only have been occupied for a matter of decades the air of greatness and of the spiritual really does hang heavy around you.

 

 

You can catch the train and the bus to Machu Picchu, if you want to. But you know what, the effort and the bonding which took place to get us there was unmissable. In my eyes this is something that you have to sweat to achieve and to appreciate. Judging by the smell of the minibus on the way back to Cusco, that we certainly all did. Visiting Machu Picchu truly was a privilege which will never be forgotten.

Cusco - The Sacred Valley

So-called because the dry steep slopes  of the surrounding mountains look over a flat river valley extra green and abundant with crops, alongside the Vilcanota River flowing fast and muddy-brown…

 

The limited time we had in Cusco before our trek meant we succumbed to a tour of the Valley in a bus with a lot of other camera-toting people, but find a spot not surrounded by tourists and the sites could still be magical. 

 

 

Here is where the Incas consolidated their expanding empire, four roads leading out of their central city of Cusco into their conquered lands.  Here also is where the Spaniards found treasure beyond the dreams, and plenty of Inca towns and temples to pillage for their own buildings.   Here in this Valley is where the Incas desperately fought to rid their lands of the Hispanic menace, several fierce battles and smart tactics so nearly succeeding…. Before finally they melted away to their last stronghold over the mountains and into the thick Amazon jungle, routed once and for all and disappearing along with their knowledge of earthquake-proof building, medicines, plants, record-keeping and astronomy that the Spaniards could have made so much use of if they had wanted to and not just invade and overtake.

 

So today the sites you see are ruins ruined by the invaders and by time, and yet still as entrancing as if you were the first to discover them after 300-odd years hidden under jungle overgrowth…

 

 

Saqsaywaman, on the outskirts of Cusco, from where you can see the main plaza, and imagine the Incas looking down from here at their invaders, desperately holding on to their zig-zagged terraced fortress, fighting against a small number of very determined Spaniards, and eventually losing to their tenacity and persistence, and retreating further down the valley..

 

 

Pisac, high on a hill surrounded by terraces for agriculture and overlooking the river valley.  An astronomy outlook at the top of the hill and stones so finely placed together without mortar that you can hardly work out where one stops and the other begins.

 

 

Ollantaytambo, where the Incas flooded the valley to thwart the horseback-riding Spaniards, but also where the second battle went in the latters´ favour.  Here more terraces and also niches in temple walls for idols and statues, long gone now.

 

Chinchero, 4200m up, where dying and weaving using plants and parasites from prickly pear cactus leaves create beautiful textiles, and the same methods are unchanged.

 

And finally back to Cusco, colonial architecture mixed with Inca ruins and modern comforts. Small cobbled streets, steep hills and definitely rests to take in the view and to deal with the 3200 odd metres above sea level!

Into the sacred site of Qoricancha, a temple so well constructed it hasn´t shifted in the earthquakes that have toppled the colonial churches several times.  The walls for the special places were made with such care and each stone polished to perfection, that they fit like lego bricks, and stick fast like them too.  Sometimes it´s hard to even see the joins…

Perurail – Puno to Cusco

What an unforgettable experience! Very many thanks to Peter and Karen for our wedding present! Our travel day started early, with bags loaded and us, tickets in hand, waiting to board.  We were serenaded on (!) with Andean pan pipe music, and train staff in long greatcoats and smart uniforms.  Ticketrs checked and we took our seats. What seats! Like armchairs, with a white table-clothed table between and, or course, a lamp on the table.  This was fantastic!

 

  

 

It only got better.  We discovered that not only could we wander own our carriage at leisure, there was also a bar carriage next door, and a open-ended glass-roofed observation carriage at the back of the train.  

 

 

 

The bell at the station rang out, the train hooted, and we pulled out onto the middle of the main street (I kid you not) as slowly we heading along the 9 hour journey to Cusco.  

 

 

 

First past the lake, through fields and watching llamas through the windows.  Then, after our first stop at Juliaca, literally through the middle of the market, with every conceivable thing for sale, from the usual fruit and veg to remote controls, wire, nuts, bolts, the lot.  

 

 

 

As we climbed higher the land changed from flat and dry and dusty, to greener, more hilly, and with rivers in the valleys. Eventually at our highest point of the journey we began to see the Peru I thought I would recognise – crumpled hills and mountains, greenery in the valleys, crops of maize everywhere.  People in the villages we passed workingin the fields, or walking along the roads, and lots waving as we went by, to which Blue Mouse and Carlos waved back, an got a few smiles.  Considering the vast chasm between us foreign tourists riding along and the day that the people we passed were living, I was really quite touched they were stopping and waving at all, because you might easily expect a different and understandable reaction to us. 

 

 

 

So after a day of delights, with the views, and also a sampling of pisco sour, a bit of music, delicious lunch and even afternoon tea, we finally arrived at our destination, Cusco.  What an amazing journey!

The Islands Of Lake Titicaca

Firstly, the Floating Islands, the Uros. Yes, without anchors they would be floating across the lake to Bolivia! Made of reeds, and continously topped up with more reeds as the bottom ones rot. It takes about a year to construct a new island.  

 

 

Houses, beds, boats, everything made of Totora reed. Quite amazing really. Food from fish and birds that nest in the reeds, and income and fruit and veg from tourists, all those tourists.  Beautiful weavings and finely made objects from reeds too.  They are a unique place. 

 

 

 

   

Our second stop, after a slow 3 hours on the boat across the world´s highest navigable lake, and South America´s largest, was Isla Taquile, 3800m above sea level.  This is not floating, and all of its 7 square kilometres are fixed, both in the ground and you could add in their past and their traditions. It´s a huff and a puff up the path to the centre, with a small square and plenty of small eateries for the tourist crowd.  Luckily the day trippers go at about 2pm, and if, like us, you stay overnight, you get the island blissfully to yourself.  I think there were only 4 of us visitors for our night here, staying with a family and getting a snapshot of the place without crowds of camera-toting, guidebook clutching travellers. 

 

 

  

 

So Bernardo met us as we got off the boat and offered us a place to stay. His house, like all the others, is mud-brick built, with small windows and dusty surroundings.  No such thing as a bathroom, but a little outhouse round the back for necessities.  His family was lovely, his wife Unicia, and his daughters Rosa, Luz Naty, and Cynthia, 9 7 and 6.  

 

 

Bernardo wore what the majority of the men wear on the island, that is to say their traditional dress . black trousers, white shirt, black waistcoat and colourfully woven cummerbund and knitted hat.  His is red because he is married; others wear read and white if they are single, or a whole mixture of colours to denote status and position.   The women wear many-layered skirts, each a different bright colour, and colourful tops.  

 

Our visit started with lunch, trout from the Lake, as you might expect, and then a leisurely wander around the island.  The paths are stone in betwen stone walls, so you can´t really get lost, and even then there are numerous short cuts across fields of maize, potatoes and quinoa, alogn with the odd goat, sheep or cow, no llamas here.  The 2500 inhabitants live all over the island, and no-where is really far away, although if you are not used to the altitude like us it takes a while to get there!  It is extremely peaceful and everyone greets you as you pass, in Spanish, although the language of use here is Quechua.  We did our best try to speak it, but even ´thank you´is a bit of a mouthful: use-pa-gras-un-ki !´

 

So as the sun started to disappear over the lake we headed back for dinner with our family, no electricity here apart from generators powered by solar panels, so as soon as it is dark you need to be in the right place!  Quinoa soup, omelette and muña tea for supper, and then to bed, stopping to marvel at the stars on the way – the good thing about a lack of artificial light is the clarity of the night sky! It was fantastic, and we even tried a bit of constellation-spotting, trying to remember what we´d seen in San Pedro when we went out to the desert.  

 

 

Morning started early, with the sun at about 5.30, but as it had been dark by 6 we´d had plenty of sleep! More leisurely wanderings around the island, and then back on the boat to the mainland.  Off to Cusco next, on what hopefully will be an amazing journey!

Puno

Well, Puno, what is there to say. Yes, it´s by the banks of the world´s highest lake- Titicaca. Yes, it´s good fun saying the name Titicaca over and over at high speed. But no, Puno´s not exactly the nicest place to find yourself staying for 5 nights.

 

You see, Puno is set up within two worlds to an extent that we haven´t encountered anywhere else in our travels. Centred around the Plaza de Armas  and the Calle de Lima is the tourist section with touts everywhere and the kind of touristy shops that inevitably spring up. However, when you leave this small section of the town there is a very clear delineation between tourists and locals. For example, fruit and veg markets are invariably the cheapest way to pick up food and stay under budget. However, I found myself as the only non-local wandering around the immense open-air market by the port, and received the correspondingly strange looks. The locals don´t tend to open up and chat as much as we´ve found elsewhere, which is the element about places that we probably value most.

 

Plus, the town smells. Really, really bad. Welcome to the land of dodgy tummies, 3800metres above sea level, with altitude sickness kicking in, heads swimming and any exercise at all proving lung busting!

Chris

Peru - Arequipa

Peru is instantly different to Chile and Argentina.  Everything seems more frenetic here, and yet time is a  fluid concept, and on time is not really recognised at all.  The border was shut, supposedly, because of a strike, but in practice what it meant was that one taxi drove you to the crossing, you filled in your paperwork, and another taxi drove you to Tacna on the other side. Easy!

So after very persistant touts were eventually shrugged off we got on a bus to Arequipa. A dry and dusty journey to the second largest city in Peru.  We were plunged into rush hour, which very much resembled the day I arrived in Kathmandu, Nepal - people, cars taxis, cyclists, buses and noise everywhere, and an amazing stop/go system at each crossroads which somehow meant there were no crashes or even minor bumps!  Each driver beeps to let the others know he is there, and then it is a case of first come first served, and any pedestrians better keep out of the way!

Arequipa itself is a compact place, sprawling round the edges but with a clearly defined centre and hustling streets  that soon give way to quieter roads.  The main plaza is a good starting point, with the cathedral and the surrounding buildings made of sillar stone, quarried from the nearby active volcanoes.

We have spent the time just wandering, round the centre, through history and architecture in the form of the oldest convent built in the city, and out into the quieter neighbourhoods to get a birds eye view of the place. 

Something that has pleased me no end, of course, is that there are hundreds of beetles! VW Beetles.  They are everywhere!