Pirate Journey- Peru

Dear Friend,

In the second installment of the Pirate Journey post, I’m going to tell you the story about Peru and how the country hated me. I was cursed from the beginning.

Crossing the border from Arica, Chile, to Tacna, Peru, was actually pretty easy. We got in a taxi with all of our backpacks barely fitting in the trunk and went through customs where our tasty apples and oranges were confiscated to our dismay. But, on arriving to Tacna, we found a bustling city, very different from Chile, which is interesting given the proximity, full of street vendors and markets. In the maze of curbside booths and shops we found one woman selling coconut cookies… just straight coconut cooked and molded together. THEY WERE SO TASTY. We went nuts on them, and I ended up buying three packages… for only 1 sol ($0.33). After sitting in the sun and enjoying some snacks, we got on our bus to Puno where Lake Titicaca is.

The majority of buses in Peru, at least the ones we rode on, were very different from those in Chile. In Chile the crew is normally in uniform and rather attentive. The air conditioning or the heat is normally always on and they usually play a few movies during the trip. In Peru, there were no movies, no heat on our frigid overnight bus, and it smelled horrible. Horrible! I guess I really can’t complain since we paid about $8.00 for a 10-hour bus ride which in Chile would probably go for $20.00. Despite not sleeping at all because of the cold and being so uncomfortable, we bucked up and booked a tour of Lake Titicaca on boat for two days. The plan was to go see Urso, the floating islands made from reeds that grow in the lake. Then we went to Amantani, and island where a small community of people live who take in foreigners for a night and cook for them and show them what it’s like to live on the island and in their culture. The following day the tour went to Taquile Island where there is a nice hike to a small village. There the tour stays for the large part of the day shopping and eating lunch and interacting with the locals.

That’s what was SUPPOSED to happen. None of that, for me at least, did happen. Either because of the altitude or because of some sort of virus, I was inopportunely sick for the entirety of the trip. It started when got on the boat. I felt tired and fatigued, but I passed it off on altitude and the horrible trip. But then, I just knew that I was sick. You just get that feeling sometimes. Brit tired to convince me it was mental. Last time she did that, I had tonsillitis. I slept for three hours on the boat, then when we got to Amantani in the early afternoon, I slept, and I didn’t really wake up until the next morning when I tried to eat breakfast. The nice woman who hosted us made me a special blend of tea using coca leaves, thyme, and some other herb. She also thought Brittany and I were a married couple. It was apparently really funny. I wouldn’t know since I was hidden away in a mass of blankets trying to decide if my fever was making me hot or cold. From what I heard, the trip was amazing, even with the thunder storm right over our heads and the waves on the lake the morning after the storm.

On the trip we met Brandon from Colorado who was going back to Cusco the same day we were so we all stayed together and made a balling group of travelers. I was really glad that we met him because Brit had someone to hang with while I slumbered. The bus terminal in Puno offered these ramshackle, filthy bedrooms that you could rent out, like a hotel. They smelled like socks and all-purpose cleaner. I almost died. But it gave me a place to lie down and take it easy while Brittany and Brandon explored Puno. Anyways, we three took a bus to Cusco that night. Our upgrade from semi-bed to full-bed chairs on the bus was a great decision and I slept a little on the ride. Unfortunately we got in to Cusco at 4 a.m., so we had to wait for a few hours before going to our hostel… which was ridiculous!

The climb alone to the top of the hill where our hostel was located was exhausting, especially given the altitude and our backpacks. It was kind of worth it, I suppose. The place is called Loki and they have several hostels in Peru and Bolivia. It is GIGANTIC. The place is a historical site… completely antique… and it has a labyrinth of rooms that are mainly dorm-style. I would say that maybe 60 people could stay there at one time, give or take. The only downside is that it was filled with Europeans and North Americans and it was completely catered to making us feel like we were in a familiar environment. It was hard to really feel like we were staying in Cusco the whole time. But it was fun- the hostel had a bar and a kitchen, so we didn’t even really have to leave if we didn’t want to. Also a downside.

From Cusco on our second day we launched in a taxi to the town of Ollantaytambo where we caught the PeruRail train to Machu Picchu. We were lucky to catch a community party in Ollantaytambo where they were singing and dancing and serving up some disgusting chicha drink, but we sipped on some nonetheless. It was fun, even though we were the only foreigners to venture into the party. The train takes about two hours to get there… even though it could be much faster. It was the slowest train I’ve ever experienced. I think the idea is to give people the opportunity to see the mountain scenery, which is spectacular, but since we were on the night train, we couldn’t see anything. In Machu Picchu, the town, a tributary cuts the community in half, almost dividing perfectly the segment of hostels and restaurants for tourists with the school and houses of the people who live there. Bridges span the river in the shadow of huge cliffs and mountains that jut rudely and abruptly from the base of the water. When we got there that night we bought our tickets to the park, then got a hostel which we talked down to $4 for the night, and then we ate pizza. We needed the fuel for the morning.

At 4:30 a.m. we woke up so that we could get in line for the bus around 5 a.m. We were told that if we got there at that time, we would be assured one of the 500 daily tickets that allow you to climb Wayna Picchu, the mountain that looks over the Lost City. We were sixth and seventh in line. A little bit early, maybe, but whatever, we got our tickets to Wayna Picchu. The bus winds up 8 kilometers of switch backs before reaching the park. On the way we passed a handful of badasses who hiked up to the park, and when we got to the entrance, there were about 50 people who had made the trek before sunrise and were already waiting. Getting to the park that early is also a bonus because you can catch views of it with no one in it. Literally, you can see nearly the entirety of the ruins and everything without a single person in sight. It’s amazing.

Machu Picchu is spectacular. It really is. It oozes spirituality, tranquility and intrigue. Hundreds of people enter the park each day, but everyone is pretty mellow as they quietly take in the amazing sights and as they trek around the ruins and trails. By the end of the day, after walking and climbing so much, we were exhausted.

Back in Cusco, we only had two more days, so we spent our full day picking up some souvenirs and also taking a tour of the campo on horseback. It was amazing.

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