Downhill Coasting

Travelogue - Downhill Coasting

Once more, after you thought you had recovered from the last tome, we have stories to tell. We hope you are keeping healthy and happy too.

So, since arriving in Cusco (the centre of the world, according to the Inca people, we have spent time looking at lots of old things. Some of those were the local people, though we are more specifically referring to the architecture.

Cusko is a city in a high valley, with the Plaza de Armas the centre of the historical district and tourism. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of tourists in Cusqo, as it serves as a hub for treks and sightseeing in the region and a beyond. It is probably the tourist and backpacker hub of South America. Despite the paradox, we don't particularly like seeing and hearing tourists, we're much happier in places in low season when that is less of an issue and for the most part that is what we had previously enjoyed. This was not however the case in Cosco which doesn't have as low a season as other places. Unsurprisingly, it has also changed significantly since I was there previously, when only the parts immediately surrounding the Plaza de Armas were touristic, now that has spread further and the type of tourism is more pervasive too, with international chain hotels and fast food colonising the historic centre.

For future reference, Cusco (Quechua for centre of the world) is a transliteration, so is interchangeable with Cuzco, Cosco, Cusco, Cozco, Qosqo and various other varieties upon the theme, so they aren't typos and the same goes for Inca. Costco however is a warehouse club or cash & carry and very different, particularly when it comes to the returns policies offered.

So, continuing with our story, we arrived very early in Cuzqo and were booked into the Inti Wasi hotel in the historic centre. Thankfully, they let us check in early and we were assured that the room we would be staying in was not yet ready and so we could rest in the one that was available in the meantime. We did so, in the hope and expectation that it would be more commensurate with the reviews we had read and generally acceptable standards of hygiene. As we were exhausted, we got some sleep and afterwards spoke to the manager about the fact that it would be nice if when we changed room, we had duvet (comforter) covers to cover over the stains on the duvets themselves and as we had paid for a room with cable TV, it would be nice to have the television, not just a length of coaxial cable across the room. We were informed that as we had checked in early, we were not entitled to a television and it was pointed out that the booking made no mention of the type or availability of bed linen. Consequently, we spent the rest of our first day looking for a more commodious hostelry which we finally did, in a family owned hotel 'Suenos del Inka' which was lovely and as we went to out room, we had a small chapel in which we could perform our oblations, should we so choose (we chose not to). When we returned to Inti Wasi to collect our belongings from the bag deposit, we found all our belongings left in the corridor. That confirmed our decision to leave. When we then put a critical review on Booking.com saying what had occurred, I then received stroppy emails trying to antagonise us in to removing the review. Clearly he had no idea about whom he was dealing with.

Qosko was the centre of the Inka empire and as the Inca people were particularly fine masons (the sort who work with stone, not so much of the rolled up trousers and funny handshakes variety), this is where some of the most impressive block work is visible. They made walls of beautifully smooth worked basalt with perfectly fitting irregular blocks. There is no space whatsoever between the blocks, so no need for any form of mortar. Several buildings in the historic centre are built on those Inqa walls. Unfortunately many have been destroyed or foolishly painted over. We enjoyed walking around parts of the city, appreciating the architecture and so forth. We particularly liked the main market which is divided into sections and subsections, so all the people in any area are selling almost identical produce, whether that be cheese, hats or Mel's favourite, chicken soup.

Probably the main reason many tourists go to Peru and particularly to Kusqo is to visit Machu Pichu. We decided to combine a day tour of the Sacred Valley with the journey to Machu Pichu. We were picked up early from our hotel and off to see historical sites. We were immediately struck by the impetuous driving style of Richard, the bus driver. At our first stop, where we had a pleasant view along the valley, we asked Javier, the guide to speak with Richard and dissuade him from going so fast, overtaking on blind mountain curves and playing chicken with oncoming traffic. We then went a short distance further to Pisac a nice little market town which we had inadequate time to see, before going to the nearby archaeological site. It is an impressive terraced place that was used by the Incqa as an agricultural research and development site. They were able to assess the optimum altitude and irrigation for different crops and create hybrid varieties. The main things they worked with were maize and potatoes, each of which has hundreds of different types. We didn't have the opportunity to really enjoy the place though as after we recovered from Richard's driving, in the site itself there were so many groups with their guides shouting their version of history. It just became noise, so when it began to rain, we decided to leave and wait for the group.

The next part of the journey was hideous, as Richard's suicidal streak came to the fore. As we went through villages, he would swerve around dogs, cars, children and ghosts (probably), as well as testing the bus' and passengers' suspension on the speed bumps. We could hear complaints in Portuguese, Spanish and English from all and sundry but no-one except us complained to either Richard or Javier. By the time we arrived in Urubamba, where we stopped for lunch we were both feeling ill. I had my first motion sickness since I was six or seven years old (on the infamous Hoverspeed crossing of the channel). I spoke with Javier at length about his failure to do anything to moderate Richard and the fact that so many of the group were now feeling unwell and we were consequently unable to enjoy any part of the tour. He got increasingly aggressive, so I asked the restaurant owner if I could use his phone to call the agency back in Kuzco. He did, which amusingly was connected to the speakers, so as I explained in vibrant detail why we were not prepared to continue on a bus with a suicidal lunatic who had clearly not taken his medication, all those who could understand Spanish got to hear the story. This included Richard who was giving me a death stare (unsuccessful) throughout. The agent spoke to the guide and it was agreed we would complete our journey to Ollantaytambo by taxi. The helpful restaurateur found us Ruben who was lovely, informative and a careful driver. As a result, we had a pleasant ride to Ollantaytambo, where we had some time to relax before taking the train to Aguas Calientes.

The train to Aguas Calientes goes through some beautiful scenery, passing farms, mountains, rivers and cloud forest on the way. The trains are very comfortable and have windows in the roof too, making it lighter and also possible to view the looming peaks above. We very much enjoyed the journey and when we arrived, there was a guy from the hotel with a sign for 'Rafael Qesler' (my name in Inqka).

Aguas Calientes, is the village near Machu Pichu, a few years ago, the village consisted of a couple of dusty streets, a handful of hostels and a hotel. It is unrecognisable from that. It now resembles some of the most corrupted and touristic parts of Thailand, we immediately disliked it. Thankfully we were there for something else. The following morning we took the bus up the long and winding road (could make a good song title) to Machu Pichu.

You will be pleased to know that there is not a lengthy explanation of what Machu Pichu was built for and the purpose and meaning of the buildings and areas. We would love to, however as no-one actually knows any of these things for sure, it just makes for specious conjecture. It was built by the Incqa and wasn't completed when the Spanish Conquistadors arrived in the 1530s. So, it isn't actually that old, not only by European standards where we have pubs older than that. It is also not so old by local measures too, where there is tangible archaeologists dating back thousands of years. It is just that this is the most famous, biggest and most recent remaining pre-Colombian site.

It is a lovely place set in dramatic mountainous scenery. We made our way up to terraces, where there is a great view of the site and surroundings. It is also a quieter spot in which one can appreciate the vista. We spent some time there before making the uphill slog to the Sun Gate, where there is a different view of the place. By the time we made the descent back to the site itself, we could see many of the people and tour groups had left (we love it when a plan comes together). Then it rained which got rid of most of the rest. So, when we had our look around we had the place almost to ourselves. We were able to appreciate the flora and fauna, in addition to the place without shouty people around. The place closes at 5pm, which was when the staff coralled us out with the last visitors.

We had decided in advance that we would not take the bus back but would walk. This was based on advice from a tour agent in Kqosko who said it should only take about twenty minutes as there is now a good path. This was confirmed by an official sign which said it was 1,350 metres (less than a mile) and all downhill.

We set off as twilight approached and made good progress, according to the sign at the top of the trail. We stopped for some time when we saw a massive butterfly circling us. Each wing was the size of one of Mel's hands. Mel put her arm out horizontally for a while and just as she was losing all sensation in her fingers, the butterfly landed on her wrist. We got the opportunity to inspect the insect at close range and take a few photos, it stayed comfortably perched on Mel's wrist for the first few steps as we continued on our way down through the darkening forest. We made steady progress for the next few minutes and then it got dark, which was when we decided to use the road instead, which made the distance considerably longer but meant that we could see (with the aid of our torches) where to go. My wonderful wife did not particularly enjoy this part of the journey, despite the opportunity we had to see fireflies, hear the sounds of the forest and the river at the bottom of the valley below, whilst being able to see the mountain peaks rising around us, silhouettes against a star filled sky. We would have maybe been able to appreciate these things more without a background noise (which must have come from some local parrot or similar) of "I don't believe we're doing this, ****ing ridiculous, whose terrible ****ing idea was this? I knew we should have taken the ****ing bus, don't ****ing talk about getting ****ing closer, just don't ****ing talk." This litany was on repeat for a large part of the walk down. When we finally got to the river (about 20 minutes later), an additional refrain about being unable to continue was added to the tirade. Despite that, we did continue walking for another 5 minutes when a truck came bowling along. I flagged it down and we were invited to climb aboard where several others were stood in the back holding on to the railings. We completed the rest of the journey in less than 5 minutes and were deposited safely in Aguas Calientes, where we disembarked from our aromatic chariot and thanked the driver. My wonderful wife did not enjoy our stroll as much as we had hoped.

I think it is only appropriate that I add a minor addendum to the journey described. When I visited Machu Pichu ten years earlier with my friend Micha, we stayed past closing time and so had to walk down. That time there wasn't a proper path, nor did we have torches, as we stumbled and groped our way down the mountain through the forest, we also did not get a free ride for the last part. This time was a vast improvement, it only took about an hour in total and we didn't walk in to very much. This was not something my wonderful wife appreciated at the time, though she assures me in retrospect, she did enjoy the truck ride and the walk wasn't really so terrible.

The following morning, we got the train back to Coscu and had even clearer and better views than on the way there. Once back in Cuzcu, we went and explained our concerns about the Sacred Valley tour to the manager of the agency where we had booked it all. She reimbursed us for the taxi to Ollantaytambo and offered us an afternoon city tour to make up for what happened.

The city tour was really good, not least as the little group was made up of an interesting and amenable ensemble. The driver was not a deluded suicidal racing driver and the guide was clear, concise and considerate. It began at the impressive cathedral, the second largest in Latin America (after the one in Mexico City), where the art is a fusion of indigenous and European styles. From there we visited Qoricancha, which was the Incca sun palace and has some of the most impressive masonry found anywhere. Unfortunately, the Spanish didn't appreciate it, so some parts were smashed apart in order to suit the European style of doorways, other parts were destroyed wantonly and just to ensure that the locals had an understanding of who was now in charge, Pizarro (the head Conquistador of the area) gave his brother the place who in turn gave it to the Dominicans, who knocked down a lot of it and plonked a church on top.

We then went above the city itself to the former fortress of Sacsayhuaman, which up until the middle of the 20th century was being used as a quarry. Thankfully now there is more pride and protection for pre-Colombian heritage and so the site has been restored to some extent. We also went to Tambo Machay where a natural spring has been flowing for centuries and marks the start of the full Inkka trail, which is an eleven day walk to Machu Pichu. The final archaeological site was to Puka Pura which evidence indicates was a sacrificial site for both animals and young people (they got sacrificed, not the ones doing it). After the obligatory stop in an alpaca knitwear and silver shop, the tour was over. It changed Mel's appreciation and affection for Quosqo and was well worth doing. The same could not however be said for the folklore show that we went to (which was included in the tourist ticket we had to buy to visit all the sites). We made it as far as the start of the second song and dance routine (Micha and I had got to the third), before walking out, trying to rid ourselves of the shrill music and haunting (not in a good way, more of a disturbing experience way) dancing.

The origins of chocolate are of course in the Americas, so we decided it was culturally appropriate for us to sample some of the local confection at the Museo de Cacao. When we found out we could do a chocolate class, it was only to better understand the historic importance of cacao in pre-Colombian cultures that we decided to partake. The class was very interesting, telling us all sorts of things about the history of chocolate. Then, we got to taste various preparations, using different herbs and spices, before making our own chocolates. This was all of course in order to more profoundly understand the indigenous cultures. As the old anthropology saying goes "if you want to understand pre-Colombian cultures, eat chocolate". Our understanding of the people increased vastly during those couple of hours. The choccies we made were dark (80% cacao) and included mostly the following ingredients, chocolate, chilli, ginger and quinoa. As you can tell we became fully in touch with the locals and our choccies were yummy too.

We left Kozkqo on a Sunday evening, which meant we got to see the weekly processions in the Plaza de Armas, when accompanied by a military band and cheered on by thousands of locals, different local industries and faculties parade across the square. We saw the museum workers, pharmacists, travel agents, faculties of Economics, Tourism and others. Based on the presentation of the young ladies carrying the flags, we decided they may not have been chosen to lead their faculty out merely because of their obvious academic excellence. It was good fun and nice to see the locals get excited. Our favourite bit was the Faculty of Anthropology who were dressed in traditional attire for the women and the men were dressed as condors and they all did some nice dancing. They also clearly understand the importance of knowing chocolate.

That evening we took the overnight bus to Arequipa. When the bus bingo happened, Mel was one number away from a line when someone else won, which lead to plenty of excitement from our row (all three of us). We then watched films on our individual screens and had a pleasant journey until we arrived on the outskirts of Arequipa and were served breakfast. We went to a hotel which offered Spanish and cooking lessons, which we thought would be nice. They also claimed to have a tortoise, which turned out to be a steel firepit. This turned out to be another example of us being mislead by the information available, which made the place sound charming, it wasn't.

As we had a wander around the more relaxed and less touristic white city of Arequipa, we found a nice Spanish school for Mel to take lessons (which she has now done and is making great linguistic progress) and stumbled across a quaint hotel called La Casa de Melgar. We had a look at the lovely building, courtyards and gardens and were sure it would be out of our price range, however after some strong haggling it was the same price as the dingy place we had come from where they had a firepit masquerading as a tortoise. We got back to the hotel and found someone had been through our room, moved things, as well as leaving the TV and light on.

The next day was Mel's birthday, which we celebrated by moving to our nice new room, the size of most flats in a lovely colonial building, with our own courtyard and hummingbirds in the garden (she also got cards and gifts of course). After lunch, we went to the Santa Catalina Convent, a village within the city. It was built about 400 years ago and grew. It is a very tranquil place, constructed from sillar, the local white volcanic rock (hence Arequipa being known as the white city). We spent several hours there wandering through the pastel painted streets and enjoying the calm. As it got dark, they lit lanterns and candles, which added to the ambience. I told Mel they were for her birthday (it's actually they just have late opening on Tuesdays), which made her happy and got me brownie points.

There seemed to be a dessert theme to Mel's special day. At breakfast, Mel was given birthday pancakes. Then when we went for birthday dinner, they brought a birthday chocolate brownie. We had already decided to go to another place for desserts and whiskies, which we did and after having our desserts, they then brought a birthday strawberry tart. All very tasty and healthy of course.

We spent about a week in Arequipa, we visited the colourful and interesting central market and enjoyed the place very much. We took an excursion to the village of Cabanaconde near the Colca Canyon (the world's deepest canyon (twice as deep as the Grand Canyon) and home to many condors). The bus ride was less luxurious than we had become accustomed to and we had all sorts of people rammed into the vehicle. This was our first time seeing the Collagua women in their traditional, colourfully embroidered hats, jackets, shawls and scarves. There was for a time also a panpipe player, who was remarkably good, considering the lurching of the bus around corners and heavy braking, as the bus would stop to allow more people to board and add to the aromas.

We had a very early start the next day to get a bus to the Cruz del Condor viewpoint across the to Colca Canyon. When we arrived, there were only three other people and we were able to see all sorts of birdlife. Unfortunately, neither of us are ornithologists, so we'll just say they were pretty, colourful, feathery and flighty.

We spent a while looking at the little birdies and appreciating the stupendous canyon scenery with snowcapped peaks, vast walls, river below and the sound of the river, mingled with birdsong and insects chirping. Then some way off and down the canyon we could see two of the big fellas. The condors use the thermals created by the rising sun heating up the cool air in the canyon to get a ride to lift their massive frames up with a minimum of effort. That is why it is best to get there early. It is also easy to tell the difference between males and females, as the males have black bodies with white collars and white blocks on their wings, whereas the females are mostly brown.

We were excitedly watching as they came closer and more appeared. Whenever anyone arrived who was talking above a whisper, I hushed them, in an attempt to avoid a repeat of the infamous Cockburn - Javeola debacle of 2004. I got some looks of confusion, consternation and constipation (the altitude has varying effects on people) but the tranquillity was preserved for about an hour and a half until the deluge of tour buses poured out wave upon wave of noise makers.. Bizarrely, this appeared to have no effect on the big birds, some of whom were wearing offensively tight leggings. Neither did the condors seem to be bothered, as they came ever closer and at times were just a few metres away. At the peak there were seven condors, five of whom seemed to be a family group. Two female adolescents, a male adolescent and their watchful parents. Not sure how the others were related, perhaps they were cousins. The three youngsters took frequent rests on the rocks and the adults appeared to bring them carrion at one point.

By soon after 10am, the deluge had subsidised and the tourists had trickled away until there were just a handful left. It was then, the condors came closest, flying just a few feet overhead, we could hear the wind through their feathers.. It was a remarkable experience to get so close to such impressive creatures.

At our hotel - Kuntur Wasi (house of the condor in Quechua) we had been recommended their associated restaurant which was some walk from the Cruz del Condor. As the food at the hotel had been very good, we decided to walk to La Granja de Colca, which took about an hour and a half along the canyon rim road. En route we saw pretty flowers, other attractive birds and lots of lizards. When we finally reached La Granja, we immediately noticed the beautiful setting perched looking over the canyon, colourful gardens, friendly dogs and the fact that it was closed.

We walked around the back to check and found a big eagle perched on a rock. It was sat majestically surveying the area below. It had a black body with white chest. Shortly after a chap from Kuntur Wasi arrived and advised us that if we planned on taking the bus back to Cabanaconde, we should go to the bus stop now, as it would be passing any time in the next half an hour. We did so and waited with some Collagua people.. We enjoyed listening to one particular conversation between the old lady and the younger woman. They were talking about cows, something the old woman appeared to be an expert on. When the younger woman mentioned she had a cow, the elder asked "what colour is it?", much like anyone might ask about someone's new car back home. She then explained at length the different characteristics of cows based on their colouring and markings. The bus then arrived and we were back in Cabanaconde a little bit later, where we had a restful afternoon and the following morning we took the early bus back to Arequipa. The first part of which was much like a game of sardines, as even the locals protested that there was no more space, as more and more people were pushed through the door. Thankfully, that only lasted for the first half hour and the rest of the trip we were able to appreciate the dramatic views.

During our last days in Arequipa Mel finished her Spanish lessons and we visited various churches and cloisters, which were all interesting and made from sillar. We also spent time people watching in the (Plaza de Armas) main square, where children played nicely and adults sat, chatted and ambled around.

For the past month we were at what for most of the world is regarded as high altitude. Anything above 2,500 metres can induce altitude sickness and we spent most of the time a good deal higher than that. Not only can it make people unwell, it creates a shortness of breath, as the body struggles to get enough oxygen. This was something we had experienced, though not too badly. The other thing is that the sun is more intense, meaning we had to be cautious but also the heat is only in the sun, so as one goes in to the shade, the temperature drops and at night the temperature falls like Felix Baumgartner. With all these things in mind, we were looking forward to returning to sea level. We took another night bus, this time to Paracas, on Peru's coast.

We had made reservations at a little place situated inside the nature reserve, where it transpired that for the first two nights, we were the only guests. We arrived early and immediately appreciated the tranquillity of the place, with a rock and shell beach just a few steps from our room. In front of that, just a hundred metres away was a small rock island, on which cormorants and pelicans roosted. As we were looking out there soon after arriving, we had the good fortune to see three black dolphins come in to the bay. They went back and forth, refused to perform any acrobatics or jump through hoops and were mostly interested in fish.. It felt like SeaWorld might all just be a sham, in real life they don't do those things at all. We saw the towns of Paracas and Pisco but they are not particularly noteworthy, though Pisco is where the Pisco Sour, which is the national drink of both Chile and Peru originates. At night we would hear the call of an adolescent sealion and the rolling of the waves, whilst looking up at a star filled sky.

Luis, the owner who is also a scallop farmer, ex-brazil nut exporter, good cook and even better drink mixer looked after us and made sure we stayed hydrated. His wife Hannah, would make sure we were well fed and that Luis was looking after us too.

Luis took us to the excellent Interpretation Centre which has a wealth of information about the Paracas Reserve, particularly the fauna within it. We decided to do most of the walk back, along the water front, which made it a long route around the peninsula. The coast here is essentially where the desert meets the sea. Consequently, there is plenty of sand and it gets sandier further away from the shore. This environment also means it gets windy, particularly in the afternoon, so as we walked back, then crossing the desert, with the wind howling past and the sand blowing, we decided to call it a day when we got back to the road, so called Luis to collect us and take us back the last 5km (3 miles).

That evening Melanie, my wonderful wife, discovered something that she found so funny and entertaining, it needs to be mentioned, though perhaps not repeated. Whilst using Luis' powerful torch (flashlight) to try and find the sea lion, which we could hear again, she realised that when she shone the torch on the sleeping pelicans, roosted on the island in front of us, it would startle them. Then the confused and tired pelican would take flight, whichever way it could, without any thought of what its neighbours were doing, hence when she shone the torch at several, they would collide and confound themselves. All the while Mel was laughing hysterically as she found the funniest sport in the world. On a side note, we didn't find the sea lion at night.

Luis wanted to show us where and how the scallops are farmed, so we went out in the boat and Edison (his diver) went and collected a number of them. Meanwhile, we saw the sea lion and no pelicans were harmed in the process. We jumped out the boat and swam back to shore, visiting the little island en route and shortly after saw a natural phenomenon.

In the distance, we could see many flocks of masses of birds, it looked like a swarm. As it got closer, one could see it was a feeding frenzy. It was impossible to say how may birds were there but somewhere between ten and a hundred thousand seems a reasonable estimate. There were various types of birds involved, the ones we could recognise (thanks to the information at the Interpretation Centre) were: Peruvian Boobies, Guanay, Peruvian Pelicans, Elegant, Common and Freanklin Terns, Zarcillos and Potoyunco. At any time, there were hundreds of birds diving in to the water like an avian hailstorm, whilst a cloud of many thousands more flew round and round overhead. The assumption was that they were feeding on an anchovy baitball.

It truly was a sight to behold and it continued for about an hour. The different sized birds seemed to work around each other without issues, whether it was the fairly massive pelicans, the sleek guanay (a type of cormorant) or the boobies diving from great heights. Shortly after the frenzy abated, we saw three dolphins leave the bay, followed by some birds. Whilst the birds had launched the aerial assault, the dolphins had most likely coralled the fish in to a ball in the first place. We also saw some condor like birds, that are related, though not the same as the Andean Condor we saw in the Colca Canyon. We were both enthralled by the spectacular scene and felt as though we had witnessed something most would only have the opportunity to see in a wildlife documentary. On a side note, we have noticed that on Discovery - Animal Planet, they seem to have programmes about dwarves. We don't think that's appropriate, nor was it the type of documentary it made us think of.

The local coast guard decided that the sea in the reserve was too tempestuous for boat trips to see the Ballestas Islands, so although we wanted to see them, we thought we may have an opportunity later, so went down the coast a little way to Huacachina, an oasis in the desert. Apparently it is the only oasis in the Americas. We found a nice old hotel that advertised two fire pits and actually had a pair of tortoises (Josefina and Pepé) ambling around the courtyard. Pepé was actually outside our room the morning we left, he might well still be there. He's not a fast mover (except with Josefina).

Huacachina was a nice place to relax and in the afternoon we climbed over the massive sand dunes nearby to watch the sunset.

All the time we were there, we made a point of finding out whether the coastguard had changed the red flag for the Ballestas Islands. Just as we had given up and were going to head south, we were told by an agent that the situation had changed. So, we headed back to Paracas to try and get on a boat.

Once there, the various tour agencies spent a couple of hours attempting to aggregate enough people before the port closed at 1pm. Unfortunately, they were unsuccessful, so we decided to spend the afternoon relaxing and watching the sea and pelicans.. One chap and his tame(ish) pelican posing for photos with the tourists was amusing to watch, as the pelican would stand where told and behave for him, catching fish in its beak whilst stood next to the punters, however if someone approached the pelican, without the handler's agreement, the pelican would lash out with its vicious, barbed beak. Disappointingly, people seemed to leap back before having limbs removed. We watched for a while but everyone escaped unharmed.

We are now hoping that we will be able to do the boat trip tomorrow morning, as we need to start heading south again.

Wishing you all health and happiness.