Friday, October 10, 2008
Tuesday, 9.23: Cusco
The next morning, we woke up refreshed from a sleep blissfully interrupted by howling monkeys or squawking jungle birds. Given how rested we were, we figured it was at least mid-morning by the time we rolled out of bed, but a glance at my iPod revealed it was in fact still before 7. Since we had plenty to accomplish that day, we got dressed and headed down to breakfast, where, over a spread that encompassed the entire table, we made a list of everything we needed to get before we left for the trek the next day.
The first order of business: I needed to get my own alpaca hat (besides, the shop was our way to other errands). We stopped by the store Heather and Bri had visited on the Plaza de Armas, where I bought a hat for 18 soles (about $6) and a pair of gloves for 12 soles ($4). We’d seen another artisan’s market while searching for the Peru Treks office the day before, so Bri and Heather wanted to swing by and check that out after we visited a pharmacy on the same street. It was there that I realized I had severely overpaid for my hat and gloves—the ones at this market cost about half as much. There wasn’t much I could do about it, though, so I just chalked it up as a learning experience.
It was a lesson I had immediate occasion to put to use on our next errand, which was to rent trekking poles from one of the camping-equipment stores lining the street that led from the plaza to our hotel. This time, we shopped around and were able to find poles for just 4 soles (a little over $1) a day. In order to secure the rental, I had to leave my driver’s license at the shop, which made me a little nervous. Since we were planning to return the poles on Sunday morning, when the shop would be closed, we would have to take them back to the place next door instead, and I was a little concerned that my license wouldn’t make the transfer, and we’d have to leave Cusco without it on Monday morning since we were booked on the first flight out. But, as I didn’t really need it to get back to the States and could always procure a new one if necessary once I got home, I handed it over.
We returned to the hotel to drop off our trek equipment, then caught a cab to San Blas, Cusco’s artist’s district, to eat at Granja Heidi, a restaurant we’d read about in the guidebook and also had seen cards for at the Niños front desk. We also figured the afternoon would be a good time to shop for souvenirs in San Blas. Our taxi driver was unable to maneuver down the tiny cobblestoned hill off which Granja Heidi was located, so he dropped us off at the main plaza in San Blas and pointed us in the right direction. On our way down, we ran into one of the ubiquitous traditionally dressed Peruvian women who parade their alpacas into Cusco and then charge tourists a couple soles to get their picture taken with them. Heather, consumed with alpaca love, couldn’t resist stopping and paying for a picture.
Granja Heidi was a welcome respite from the traditional Peruvian cuisine we’d consumed up until then in the rainforest (except for a few notable dishes, I can’t say I was a huge fan of the mostly bland, meat-and-potatoes Peruvian diet), and I thoroughly enjoyed my pumpkin soup, quiche, and salad. Looking around, it was obvious that the restaurant catered solely to tourists, and the friendly owner (an older German guy) milked that for all it was worth, making it a point to stop and chat with every table. When he found out Heather was from Wisconsin, he gave her the special “Wisconsin hello” by joining their hands to make a cow udder, then “milking” it. We had read that the restaurant was famous for its desserts, so we ordered a slice of the Nelson Mandela cake—a decadent, many-layered chocolate cake—to share.
After lunch, we wandered up and down the street, browsing in various stores and stalls. Heather and I purchased some alpaca sweaters (which I later discovered, thanks to some information in the guidebook on how to spot genuine 100-percent alpaca goods, were likely a cheap alpaca-acrylic blend—boo), and Bri spent a good portion of her time browsing in the store of this guy who made really cool jewelry out of bent wire. He had a small TV in the shop that was playing back-to-back Coldplay videos, so I chatted with him a bit about his love of Coldplay. (He said it was good mellow music to have on while working.) After trying on several different rings, Bri ultimately decided they were out of her price range, and we bid him good-bye and moved on. We headed up the street to another shop where Heather wanted to buy some pottery. I decided to wait outside while she and Bri were browsing, and pretty soon, I saw the Coldplay jewelry artist come rushing up the street toward me. He asked where my friend was, so I called inside the store for Bri. She came out, and he told her that one of the rings she had been trying on was missing—basically, he accused her of stealing it. Bewildered, she repeated over and over that she didn’t have it, opening her bags to show him the contents. Finally, he seemed satisfied with her innocence and returned to his shop.
After that excitement, we only went in a few more shops (and I braved a pretty long staircase to take in an excellent view of Cusco—I figured it would be good practice for the upcoming trek) before walking down to the Plaza de Armas and heading to our hotel to drop off another load of packages. We were all pretty pooped from a long day of shopping, but Heather really wanted to go to Sacsayhuaman, a complex of Inca ruins located above Cusco. Bri and I favored taking a nap first, but when we checked the guidebook and saw that the ruins closed at 6 p.m., we realized we’d have to head right back out if we wanted time to look around there, as it was already after 4. So we began walking back down to the Plaza again, hoping to find a taxi. We spotted one about halfway there, and Heather flagged it down. Despite the fact that she had been saying “Sacsayhuaman” non-stop since we arrived in Cusco (the guidebook told us to pronounce it as if we were saying “sexy woman,” which was too good of a catch-phrase opportunity to pass up), when she told the driver where we were going, it came out “Szechuan.” Bri and I immediately burst out laughing, but were somehow able to communicate the correct location to the confused driver in between gales of laughter.
The taxi dropped us off at the entrance to the ruins so we could buy tickets. I had read in the guidebook that in order to visit Sacsayhuaman, you had to buy a “Boleto Turistico,” a comprehensive ticket to several Cusco sites, which is one reason I wasn’t entirely psyched to go—we probably wouldn’t have time to visit the other sites, and the 130 soles (over $40) that the Boleto Turistico would have cost seemed way too steep for just one attraction. However, once we got there, we found that we could buy Sacsayhuaman-specific tickets for 40 soles (about $13), which was much more reasonable. We refused the offer of a guide, opting instead for the much cheaper strategy of bookmarking the entry on Sacsayhuaman in our guidebook and reading it aloud as we walked around.
The ruins were divided into two sections by a large lawn; one complex was made of stacked stones, while the other seemed to be carved into the back of a rock formation abundant with natural rock slides. We headed to the edge of the first structure (which functioned as a fortress) to take in the incredible view of Cusco. After snapping a few pictures, we headed back down to wander through the ruins. On our way back, Heather spotted an alpaca scenically perched on the edge of a terrace in the near distance and began snapping photos of it. I followed suit, only when I zoomed in on the alpaca with my camera, I noticed something strange about the alpaca…namely that it was sort of shiny. I looked a little closer at the image on my screen and realized it wasn’t an alpaca at all, but rather a bunch of trash bags clustered together in a shape that, from a distance, did convincingly resemble an alpaca in profile. “Heather,” I cried, “that’s not an alpaca; it’s just a bunch of trash bags!” We both cracked up over our artfully framed photos of the trash-bag alpaca.
We walked back through the fortress, stopping every so often to marvel at the way the gigantic stones were stacked together. When the shadows hit it, the edge of Sacsayhuaman is supposed to resemble Puma teeth, and our sunset excursion provided just the right opportunity to glimpse that effect. After Heather took a quick stop at the bathroom (and Bri and I successfully fended off the many souvenir-hawkers in the parking lot), we headed over to the other side of the ruins. Bri and I were unable to resist trying out one of the rock slides, and as we prepared to make our descent, a nearby Peruvian man advised us to spit on our hands so that we could grab on and slow ourselves down when we got close to the bottom.
Satisfied with our exploration of Sacsayhuaman, we grabbed a taxi in the parking lot and rode back to the hotel. After consulting our guidebook for restaurant recommendations, we decided to check out a pizza place called Chez Maggy in San Blas. On our way there, however, we noticed another outpost of Chez Maggy just down the road from our hotel, so we defected to this much-closer option. We were practically the only patrons in the restaurant, and were extremely distracted by the traditional Peruvian music videos playing on TVs scattered throughout the space, but the pizza was yummy and filling, and we were soon ready to turn in for another early night in preparation for our 5 a.m. pre-trek wake-up call the next morning.
Continue to Day 6: Cusco to Wayllabamba (Inca Trail, Day 1)
The next morning, we woke up refreshed from a sleep blissfully interrupted by howling monkeys or squawking jungle birds. Given how rested we were, we figured it was at least mid-morning by the time we rolled out of bed, but a glance at my iPod revealed it was in fact still before 7. Since we had plenty to accomplish that day, we got dressed and headed down to breakfast, where, over a spread that encompassed the entire table, we made a list of everything we needed to get before we left for the trek the next day.
The first order of business: I needed to get my own alpaca hat (besides, the shop was our way to other errands). We stopped by the store Heather and Bri had visited on the Plaza de Armas, where I bought a hat for 18 soles (about $6) and a pair of gloves for 12 soles ($4). We’d seen another artisan’s market while searching for the Peru Treks office the day before, so Bri and Heather wanted to swing by and check that out after we visited a pharmacy on the same street. It was there that I realized I had severely overpaid for my hat and gloves—the ones at this market cost about half as much. There wasn’t much I could do about it, though, so I just chalked it up as a learning experience.
It was a lesson I had immediate occasion to put to use on our next errand, which was to rent trekking poles from one of the camping-equipment stores lining the street that led from the plaza to our hotel. This time, we shopped around and were able to find poles for just 4 soles (a little over $1) a day. In order to secure the rental, I had to leave my driver’s license at the shop, which made me a little nervous. Since we were planning to return the poles on Sunday morning, when the shop would be closed, we would have to take them back to the place next door instead, and I was a little concerned that my license wouldn’t make the transfer, and we’d have to leave Cusco without it on Monday morning since we were booked on the first flight out. But, as I didn’t really need it to get back to the States and could always procure a new one if necessary once I got home, I handed it over.
We returned to the hotel to drop off our trek equipment, then caught a cab to San Blas, Cusco’s artist’s district, to eat at Granja Heidi, a restaurant we’d read about in the guidebook and also had seen cards for at the Niños front desk. We also figured the afternoon would be a good time to shop for souvenirs in San Blas. Our taxi driver was unable to maneuver down the tiny cobblestoned hill off which Granja Heidi was located, so he dropped us off at the main plaza in San Blas and pointed us in the right direction. On our way down, we ran into one of the ubiquitous traditionally dressed Peruvian women who parade their alpacas into Cusco and then charge tourists a couple soles to get their picture taken with them. Heather, consumed with alpaca love, couldn’t resist stopping and paying for a picture.
Granja Heidi was a welcome respite from the traditional Peruvian cuisine we’d consumed up until then in the rainforest (except for a few notable dishes, I can’t say I was a huge fan of the mostly bland, meat-and-potatoes Peruvian diet), and I thoroughly enjoyed my pumpkin soup, quiche, and salad. Looking around, it was obvious that the restaurant catered solely to tourists, and the friendly owner (an older German guy) milked that for all it was worth, making it a point to stop and chat with every table. When he found out Heather was from Wisconsin, he gave her the special “Wisconsin hello” by joining their hands to make a cow udder, then “milking” it. We had read that the restaurant was famous for its desserts, so we ordered a slice of the Nelson Mandela cake—a decadent, many-layered chocolate cake—to share.
After lunch, we wandered up and down the street, browsing in various stores and stalls. Heather and I purchased some alpaca sweaters (which I later discovered, thanks to some information in the guidebook on how to spot genuine 100-percent alpaca goods, were likely a cheap alpaca-acrylic blend—boo), and Bri spent a good portion of her time browsing in the store of this guy who made really cool jewelry out of bent wire. He had a small TV in the shop that was playing back-to-back Coldplay videos, so I chatted with him a bit about his love of Coldplay. (He said it was good mellow music to have on while working.) After trying on several different rings, Bri ultimately decided they were out of her price range, and we bid him good-bye and moved on. We headed up the street to another shop where Heather wanted to buy some pottery. I decided to wait outside while she and Bri were browsing, and pretty soon, I saw the Coldplay jewelry artist come rushing up the street toward me. He asked where my friend was, so I called inside the store for Bri. She came out, and he told her that one of the rings she had been trying on was missing—basically, he accused her of stealing it. Bewildered, she repeated over and over that she didn’t have it, opening her bags to show him the contents. Finally, he seemed satisfied with her innocence and returned to his shop.
After that excitement, we only went in a few more shops (and I braved a pretty long staircase to take in an excellent view of Cusco—I figured it would be good practice for the upcoming trek) before walking down to the Plaza de Armas and heading to our hotel to drop off another load of packages. We were all pretty pooped from a long day of shopping, but Heather really wanted to go to Sacsayhuaman, a complex of Inca ruins located above Cusco. Bri and I favored taking a nap first, but when we checked the guidebook and saw that the ruins closed at 6 p.m., we realized we’d have to head right back out if we wanted time to look around there, as it was already after 4. So we began walking back down to the Plaza again, hoping to find a taxi. We spotted one about halfway there, and Heather flagged it down. Despite the fact that she had been saying “Sacsayhuaman” non-stop since we arrived in Cusco (the guidebook told us to pronounce it as if we were saying “sexy woman,” which was too good of a catch-phrase opportunity to pass up), when she told the driver where we were going, it came out “Szechuan.” Bri and I immediately burst out laughing, but were somehow able to communicate the correct location to the confused driver in between gales of laughter.
The taxi dropped us off at the entrance to the ruins so we could buy tickets. I had read in the guidebook that in order to visit Sacsayhuaman, you had to buy a “Boleto Turistico,” a comprehensive ticket to several Cusco sites, which is one reason I wasn’t entirely psyched to go—we probably wouldn’t have time to visit the other sites, and the 130 soles (over $40) that the Boleto Turistico would have cost seemed way too steep for just one attraction. However, once we got there, we found that we could buy Sacsayhuaman-specific tickets for 40 soles (about $13), which was much more reasonable. We refused the offer of a guide, opting instead for the much cheaper strategy of bookmarking the entry on Sacsayhuaman in our guidebook and reading it aloud as we walked around.
The ruins were divided into two sections by a large lawn; one complex was made of stacked stones, while the other seemed to be carved into the back of a rock formation abundant with natural rock slides. We headed to the edge of the first structure (which functioned as a fortress) to take in the incredible view of Cusco. After snapping a few pictures, we headed back down to wander through the ruins. On our way back, Heather spotted an alpaca scenically perched on the edge of a terrace in the near distance and began snapping photos of it. I followed suit, only when I zoomed in on the alpaca with my camera, I noticed something strange about the alpaca…namely that it was sort of shiny. I looked a little closer at the image on my screen and realized it wasn’t an alpaca at all, but rather a bunch of trash bags clustered together in a shape that, from a distance, did convincingly resemble an alpaca in profile. “Heather,” I cried, “that’s not an alpaca; it’s just a bunch of trash bags!” We both cracked up over our artfully framed photos of the trash-bag alpaca.
We walked back through the fortress, stopping every so often to marvel at the way the gigantic stones were stacked together. When the shadows hit it, the edge of Sacsayhuaman is supposed to resemble Puma teeth, and our sunset excursion provided just the right opportunity to glimpse that effect. After Heather took a quick stop at the bathroom (and Bri and I successfully fended off the many souvenir-hawkers in the parking lot), we headed over to the other side of the ruins. Bri and I were unable to resist trying out one of the rock slides, and as we prepared to make our descent, a nearby Peruvian man advised us to spit on our hands so that we could grab on and slow ourselves down when we got close to the bottom.
Satisfied with our exploration of Sacsayhuaman, we grabbed a taxi in the parking lot and rode back to the hotel. After consulting our guidebook for restaurant recommendations, we decided to check out a pizza place called Chez Maggy in San Blas. On our way there, however, we noticed another outpost of Chez Maggy just down the road from our hotel, so we defected to this much-closer option. We were practically the only patrons in the restaurant, and were extremely distracted by the traditional Peruvian music videos playing on TVs scattered throughout the space, but the pizza was yummy and filling, and we were soon ready to turn in for another early night in preparation for our 5 a.m. pre-trek wake-up call the next morning.
Continue to Day 6: Cusco to Wayllabamba (Inca Trail, Day 1)
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