THE ROAD TO MACHU PICCHU

August 19, 2011

We awoke Friday morning, enjoyed nice hot showers, and put most of our luggage in the storage room at the Pirwa Hostel in Cusco. We would be returning here after one overnight at Machu Picchu, so we didn't have to take everything with us. The Doctor had managed to pack relatively light for the trip, but I can't seem to go anywhere without the equivalent of at least one steamer trunk . . .

We went outside and waited to be picked up by Pachatusantrek for our ride to the Poroy train station. After a few minutes we saw a woman walking up the street toward us, and as she got closer, she called out my name. I was quite surprised when it turned out to be Jessica herself, the woman I talked to on the phone, and who had been so pleasant to deal with all along. She led us back down to the Plaza de Armas, and waited with us until the car arrived to pick us up. I was again impressed by her level of personal attention. Pachatusantrek is an eco-friendly tour agency that offers a wide range of services, and all we had enlisted them for was a simple 20 minute car ride, little more than a taxi service could have provided. Yet she had called to confirm our reservation the night before, and then showed up personally to make sure the car picked us up on time. I was quite impressed.

Jessica was very friendly - and spoke lovely English - and visited with us, while we waited for the car. There was a cute little white dog sitting near us on the sidewalk. He was trying to sit up, but was so tired that his eyes kept slowly closing, and his body would start to lean until he would jerk back awake again. Finally he just gave up, and curled into a ball and went to sleep. He stayed like that until he was awakened by the approach of a couple larger strays. He got up then, and went and stood on the other side of Jessica, as if seeking protection. Not that the dogs appeared particularly aggressive. None of the strays that we saw seemed wild or vicious, in fact they were all quite tame and usually friendly. They would often approach with a friendly wag of the tail and a little doggy smile.

When the car arrived, Jessica gave us each a bottle of water, and sent us on our way. We arrived at the train station on time, boarded, and were soon on our way. Of the three classes of service available on Peru Rail, we were in the least expensive, the Expedition class. Still it was a pleasant and comfortable ride. Our seats were at a small table, which we shared with a German couple seated across from us. The windows were large enough to take in the amazing views, especially as we entered the mountains. And they gave us a free snack (which is more than Spirit Airlines had done!) consisting of pretzels, chocolate covered biscuits, and the ever present Coca Tea.

It took us around 3 hours to reach our destination, the little town of Agua Calientes. We got off the train, and tried to find our way to the main part of town, but got lost in a big vendor's market right outside the train station. It was a maze like complex of booth after booth of Peruvian handicrafts and souvenirs. We came out of that on the wrong side, and pretty much had to go back in and find another way out, which we eventually did.

Agua Calients was a bright and cheery little town, with lots of green plants and trees (including banana trees) and a river flowing over rapids right through the center of town. Pedestrian bridges spanned the river, and at least one of these had sprays of water arcing out into the river below.

There were shops, restaurants, and hostels everywhere. The town was small and sort of carved into the base of the mountain, so a lot of the walkways were steep and narrow, and a little confusing. We had a map showing the location of the Pirwa hostel we were staying at, but even so it took some effort to find it. We searched for quite awhile, and finally The Doctor turned down a side street, and there toward the far end I finally saw the sign for Pirwa. He was a bit ahead of me, and to my surprise he walked right on past it. I had to call him back; he had gone right by it and hadn't even seen it.

It was another beautiful hostel, not as nice as the one in Cusco, but still quite lovely. We checked in and were shown to our room where we spent a few minutes getting settled. The room had one window; if you looked up, you saw a gorgeous view of the mountains.

  If you looked down, you saw a less attractive view of the neighborhood. The backyards of three or four small homes converged right behind the hostel. They were obviously poorer homes, a hodgepodge of corrugated metal roofs, clothes lines, and general clutter. In one yard there was a small table, under which a mother cat and her litter of kittens were resting.

After dropping our stuff off at the room we found the bus station, bought our tickets, and boarded one of the small buses that makes frequent runs up the mountain to Machu Picchu. The ride lasted about 20 minutes, and was a bit harrowing to say the least. The road was narrow and steep, with many hairpin curves. Only a few of these curves had short sections of guardrail. The rest of the road had none, with only trees offering some protection, but more often than not there was nothing between us and the steep precipice of the mountainside. We frequently met other buses coming down - as luck would have it usually at the sharp turns; sometimes there was room to pass, sometimes there wasn't. One or the other of the buses would have to stop and back up in order to let the other pass. At least once the drivers seemed to be playing a game of chicken with each other, neither one wanting to budge. I'm not sure if they were being stubborn, or just doing that for the "entertainment" of their passengers. All in all there was a lot of gasping and seat clutching going on during the ride up.

At the end of the bus line there is a very expensive hotel that offers a lunch buffet. We thought about checking it out, but it looked a little too hoity toity, so we opted for the less intimidating outdoor snack bar across from the hotel. Here we were able to get some vegetarian sandwiches, a glass of purple corn juice, and some ice cream, and were able to enjoy a very scenic view of the mountains while we ate.

We then used the nearby restrooms for the price of one sol, which was paid to a woman at the door who dispensed tickets to the facilities like it was an amusement park ride. A sign informed us that toilet paper was included in the price of admission, and there was a dispenser right there at her station. I never checked to see if there were toilet paper in the stalls or not, but it appeared you had to get your allotment from the attendant. My guidebook had said it was not uncommon to encounter public bathrooms with NO toilet paper, and strongly suggested carrying your own.

We then made our way to the entrance where we had to show our tickets, as well as our passports. Just beyond that was a little station where we were able to stamp our passports with an official Machu Picchu stamp. We walked a little further passing plaques paying tribute to Hiram Bingham, including one from 1961 honoring the 50th anniversary of his "discovery". The 100th anniversary was earlier this year, but I didn't see any plaque for that; perhaps they haven't put one up yet.

I don't know what The Doctor was feeling up to this point. Since getting off the train a couple hours earlier, I myself had sensed a certain apprehension, a hesitancy. Machu Picchu was the focal point of our trip. Everything else had been planned around it. You would have thought I would have been eager to finally get there, that I would have been racing the last few steps, but instead I felt as if I were dragging my feet. There was almost a sense of fear. I don't know exactly what I might have been afraid of. Perhaps I thought it wouldn't live up to the hype or meet my expectations, and that I would be somehow disappointed. The trip had certainly had its share of aggravations and mishaps - my flight being canceled, the confusing scramble to restructure and salvage the trip, the Doctor's debilitating bout of Soroche, all the miscommunications with Pirwa, and just language problems in general everywhere we went. Perhaps I was just afraid that, after all this, we might think it hadn't really been worth the all the trouble and effort.

But the time had come, and finally we rounded that last bend in the path. There it was . . .

Actually, what we saw there was just small sliver of Machu Picchu, but at first glimpse, you think you are seeing it all. You can't imagine it could possibly be bigger than what you see now, that this is just a hint of its expanse, that you will spend the next two days discovering there is more and more every time you round a corner. A step or two this way or that, or a short climb up a flight of old stone stairs, and a whole new view is revealed that had before been hidden.

Years ago when I first decided I wanted to someday visit Machu Picchu, I cut a picture of it from a magazine, and taped it to my computer at work. It was about the size of a postage stamp, but every time I looked it I would think of it as a little piece of Heaven here on earth. It just looked too beautiful to be of this world. (Now, having seen it with my own eyes, I am still not totally convinced that it IS of this world. Heavenly beauty aside, the architecture and engineering alone are enough to make one wonder if the ancient Incas didn't have at least a little help from beyond our world!!!) If I had been afraid before entering Machu Picch that I would somehow be disappointed when I actually saw it, those fears evaporated the minute I first saw it, and with every breathtaking glimpse and view and vista after that. 

To say the pictures don't do it justice is an understatement. Words like 'beautiful', 'amazing', and 'spectacular', can easily be overused in trying to describe it. The scenery of the mountains by itself is dazzling (and dizzying!), but there is something about the ancient ruins that actually seems to enhance and accentuate the natural wonder of the landscape.

Building a modern city in such a location now would destroy such beauty, but Machu Piccu is so perfectly molded into the mountainside that it easily appears to belong, to be one with it. It is hard to picture or even imagine the mountains being as beautiful without the ruined city being a part of it.

Suffice it to say both The Doctor and I were overwhelmed with what we saw. We took countless pictures, attempting to capture every view, and every angle of every view, but it is an impossible task. We spent maybe an hour or so on the outer and upper perimeter's of the ruins photographing and savoring the view. We were doing this when, to my great surprise, a beautiful black Llama came around the corner as naturally as if he were just another tourist.

And behind him were two or three more, though the others were of much lighter colors. They just walked around among us as if it were the most natural thing in the world, which I suppose for them in that location, it is. One went over and stood at a scenic overlook, and posed perfectly while people snapped away with their cameras. He was a real ham, and seemed to relish the attention. I swear he (or she?) was even smiling and making eyes at the camera. When he had enough though, he terminated the photo session promptly, and went on his way.

We would see many Llamas before our time at Machu Picchu was done; they all had tags in their ears, but they pretty much seemed to have the run of the place. While I don't know as I would call them tame, they were certainly used to people, and barely paid us any attention at all. Their main focus was the grass, and they spent most of their time grazing and chomping away on it. It took me awhile to get up the nerve to touch one, and I think it was actually later in the day with another group that I finally did so. I petted several before the day was over, and they all seemed so pre-occupied with eating that I don't think they even knew I was there.

Among the group we saw later in the day, was one slightly smaller than the rest, which I am pretty sure was the kid of a larger one that was always nearby.

 

Most of the ones we saw seemed to be in groups of two or three, and I wondered if these were family units, and if they mated for life. Though it was not easy to look them in the eyes (what with their heads down at ground level most of the time while they ate), they did strike me as being wise and gentle creatures (I would not want to get kicked by one, however . . . ) I heard one woman say they were stupid, mainly because they just kept right on eating while she was trying to pet them. I'm afraid the poor things would starve to death if they stopped eating every time someone wanted to pet them or take their picture.

We spent a good amount of time looking and taking pictures of the ruins from a higher level. Knowing we would be coming back the following day and could explore the structures up close and personal then, we decided to follow one of the trails that led further up the mountain. We picked a trail pointing to something called "Intipunku".

My guidebook described it as a gentle, 45 minute climb, of which we found it to be neither. Granted we did stop and take a lot of pictures along the way, but even so our actual hiking time seemed longer than an hour, and we quit with a good deal of the trail still curving up the mountain ahead of us. And it was steep enough to not be exactly "gentle" for either of us. We passed ruins of structures along the way, and several good vantage points to look down on the main complex of Machu Picchu.

We stopped at one place where there were steps leading up to a stage like area with a dramatic outcropping of rock pointing upward and leaning forward at a slight angle above us.

The Doctor had brought the pyramid he purchased on Taquile - which I had named The Pyramid Of Doom - and had tried placing it in various locations where he hoped it might release some sort of mystical power . . . with no noticeable results. Here at the platform area, he had me take pictures of him holding the Pyramid aloft,as if offering it to the heavens. I took a few pictures, and then coaxed him to take off his shirt . . . which resulted in some really great shots. The Doctor has an impressive physique!

A little further up the trail we stopped again, and I climbed up on a part of stone wall. There was a great view of the ruined city of Machu Picchu far below us. I sat here and wrote out a postcard, one of Machu Picchu that actually looked like it could have been taken right from where I sat.

After going on a bit more, we decided we had had enough of the gentle climb to Intipunku, and turned back. It didn't seem to take nearly as long going down, and we were soon back at the main complex of Machu Picchu. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the terraces and outer sections of the ruins. We encountered several more Llamas, and spent time with them, taking pictures and petting them. Many of the walls had a series of stone outcroppings running up the side and sticking out about a foot or so; we had seen some of these the previous day at the ruins at Raqhi, and our guide had told us they were steps. I tried climbing up a series of these at Machu Picchu, but didn't look too dignified doing it.

We saw another sign pointing to something called "The Inka Bridge" and made our way up (again!) a part of the way before encountering a guard shack with a guard who told us the rest of the path was closed. I think it may have been too late in the day for them to allow more people up.

Shortly after that we were walking along a terrace that looked down into a long series of rooms. I happened to glance down into one and saw a small animal nibbling on the grass. I looked closer and was surprised to see it was a wild Chinchilla. I once had a pet Chinchilla named Moonlight for 11 year, and I was thrilled to see this one in its natural habitat. The Doctor also had a some as pets at one time so I called him over and excitedly pointed it out to him. We watched it eating peacefully for a few minutes. A man and woman came along, and I pointed it out to them, thinking they would share my enthusiasm. I don't think they were fluent in English, but they finally understood, but didn't seem convinced that it was actually a Chinchilla. They looked at it skeptically and said it was just a squirrel.

I understand that a Peruvian Squirrel might look a little different from what I am used to in America, but I had had a Chinchilla for 11 years, so I had a pretty good idea that what I was looking at was no squirrel. The couple went down into some of the rooms adjoining the one with the chinchilla, and when they came out, they told me there were more further down - only now they seemed to think they were rabbits! I went down through the rooms and finally came to one at the very end where there were two more - and they were definitely chinchillas. I went and found The Doctor (who was off taking pictures nearby), and showed these to him, and we took several pictures of them. They seemed to be aware of us, but not terribly frightened unless we got too close. One of them finally decided he had had enough of us, and disappeared through a drainage hole in the wall, a convenient means of escape thoughtfully left behind for him by the ancient Incas.

Around this time we started hearing a whistle blowing, and gradually realized the guides were motioning for people to start heading for the exit. We didn't feel particularly rushed though, and more or less took our time, still stopping to take yet another picture of a view we might not have captured yet. We caught sight of one more Chinchilla, this one sitting alone on a rock. He almost appeared to be just enjoying the view in solitude.

 

As we made our way toward the exit, we spied a round, flat stone in the ground with 4 lines on it that looked as if they might be compass headings. The Doctor was still trying to find a location that was a perfect match for his Pyramid Of Doom. He took it out and carefully lined the corners of the pyramids base up with the lines.

No sooner had he done so than dark cloud filled the sky, lightening flashed and thunder boomed. The earth shook and split beneath our feet, and fire rained down from the heavens. The Doctor had unleashed the Apocalypse at last . . . .

OK, none of that happened, but I just wanted to make sure my readers are paying attention . . .

We made our way to the exit, and boarded the bus for another harrowing ride down the mountain. Going down was not as bad as going up, as being so late in the day, we did not encounter any buses coming up. Still it had its moments . . .

When we arrived back in Agua Calientes, we went to hostel, changed our clothes, and went in search of the thermal springs after which the town takes its name. We found them at the very end of town. There was a small fee to get in, and another to rent a locker to store our belongings. I was expecting something rather rustic; in Hawaii I had gone to a hot spring right next to the ocean. That one had been walled in enough to make it accessible, but still had a very natural feel to it. The one in Agua Calientes was quite different. It was built up almost like a public swimming pool, with the water from the springs channeled into a series of 4 or 5 tiled pools. It could have been just another hot tub at some resort as far as appearances went.

The first pool we tried was cold, the second just a little warmer than lukewarm, but we figured the others were probably the same so we stayed there.

We stayed in the pool for probably 45 minutes to an hour. There were a few other people in it also, but it was not as crowded as the other pools. There were two women near us and after overhearing a part of their conversation, we discovered that one of them had been at the same conference in Lima which the Doctor had also attended the week before.  They had not met at the convention, but now they visited for quite awhile, discussing the conference and talking "shop".

When we finally got out, I began to dry off but The Doctor went to check the temperature of the next pool, and discovered it to be a great deal warmer than the one we had been sitting in. So we sat in that one for a few minutes. It was quite lovely, but when we did get out, the air was only that much cooler. We dried off and dressed, and hurried back to the hostel. I had to hold my shorts up all the way back because they were a little too big, and heavy from being wet, and would have fallen down otherwise.

We changed again, than went out in search of dinner. We found a vegetarian Indian restaurant not far from the hostel and ate there. I was not terribly impressed with it. I love Indian food, but nothing on the menu was anything I had seen in an Indian restaurant before. The food seemed to be more based in Peruvian Cuisine, more of a Peruvian restaurant run by Indians. The dish I ordered was ok, but nothing outstanding. When we paid, I gave the man a larger denomination bill, which he graciously accepted and then bolted out the door. He was gone for several minutes before finally returning with enough smaller bills and coins to give us the correct change. I think I am beginning to understand why the economy in Peru is so bad, and why there is so much poverty! Even if you have money, you can't seem to spend it anywhere because no one has any change!

After dinner we walked around a bit, did some more shopping, and eventually ended up in this town's Plaza de Armas. There was a statue of an Inca warrior in the center of the square, and we asked a woman to take our picture in front of it. She made several attempts, and I still don't know what she was doing wrong, but she couldn't seem to get the picture. She gave the camera to someone else who was with her, and they had the same problem. They passed the camera to a third, and he finally was able to get the picture. My camera is hardly complicated so I don't know what was going on. I felt bad to have been so much trouble to them, but they were all laughing and seemed good natured about it.

YOU TOOK ALL MY CHANGE!!! ~ or ~ Frank Throws A Hissy Fit

August 18, 2011

The Doctor had another rough night, rougher he said than the previous night. Between the congestion from his head cold and the shortness of breath from the Soroche, he was having a difficult time breathing, and also had a fever and chills. He got very little sleep, and when he was able to doze off, he would invariably wake up suddenly trying to breathe. He said it had been one of the longest nights of sleeplessness he could remember.

I had slept well, and woke up feeling pretty good, though I still had the congestion that had started the previous afternoon. We both took another cold shower and made our way down to the lobby, where we told the desk clerk we needed a taxi to the bus station. In spite of the communication problems, the staff at the hostel were always more than willing to help however they could, and the clerk went out and flagged down a cab for us.

At the bus station we had to go to one window to pick up our tickets (which we had reserved) and then to another to pay some kind of transportation tax. We were a little early, and were some of the first to board the bus. The bus was a very nice double decker luxury coach, and we went right up to the second level. The very front seat had large panoramic windows, which we knew would offer a spectacular view, so we grabbed those right away. We were feeling quite pleased with ourselves for getting the best seats in the house, until our "hostess" (her name was Rose Mary) came and asked to see our tickets. She pointed out that the tickets had seat numbers, and we quite obviously were in the wrong seats. So we had to relinquish our prime seats and move back several rows, but at least we were still on the upper level. The Doctor initially took the window seat, but we agreed to switch seats at each of the stops along the route. Eventually, since he was catching up on a lot of his lost sleep, and I was trying to take pictures of the scenery, he ended up just letting me take the window seat.

Our tour guide's name was Rodney, and the hostess as I mentioned was Rose Mary.   Rose Mary passed through the bus several times on the trip offering us water, soda, or Coca tea.  This was the bus tour described as "The Amazing Trip" which boasted about having "oxygen and hygienic bathrooms". I am not sure what I expected by the promise of oxygen. I think I was envisioning the bus to have fresh air circulating in a pressure controlled cabin like an airplane, or at least oxygen masks at each seat. In either case I somehow imagined we would at least be able to breathe a little easier once we boarded the bus.  This of course was not the case;  I guess what they meant was there was an oxygen tank available on the bus for individuals who might be having an especially hard time breathing in the high altitude.

And as far as the "hygienic bathrooms", one of the first things Rodney told us was that the bathroom on the bus was intended for emergency use only, and then "only for number one, not number two". Anyone who might have been suffering from Traveler's Diarrhea and thought they were going to have a bathroom available, would have been left in a very uncomfortable situation. Rodney explained that we would be stopping frequently enough so that we would be able to use the bathrooms at those locations. The problem with that, as we found out, was that most of these stops felt fairly rushed as it was, and we barely had time to take in the sights, to say nothing of using the restrooms.   Most of these stops were interesting, and as The Doctor pointed out, the trip was more endurable with the stops than a straight 8 hours bus ride with no stops would have been. Still, I think it would have been nicer to have left off maybe one or two of the less interesting stops, allowing some extra time at the ones that were more interesting. That, and providing bathrooms that we could actually use as needed might have made the trip a little more AMAZING.

On the way out of Puno we passed more of the ubiquitous political signs for "KEIKO FOR PRESIDENT". For the first time I saw hanging banners that actually had Keiko's picture on them. I was quite surprised to discover that Keiko is a WOMAN!

The bus took the same route out of Puno that we had come in by, and this took us through Juliaca again. By contrast, it is much dirtier than Puno, and in several places I saw large piles of garbage just dumped in the street. Rodney told us that people from all over the region move to Juliaca because it is an industrial city, and its many job opportunities offer the best chance of improving their economic situation. He also gave us an explanation concerning the many unfinished structures I had noticed everywhere. He said people will start building a house with as much money as they have, and when they run out they stop until they can scrape enough together to do more work on it. He also said that they are not required to pay taxes on the buildings until they are finished, so they may start building a two story home, and only finish the first floor. The second floor remains unfinished, and they are able to live on the ground floor without paying taxes.

After Juliaca the road led us mostly through countryside surrounded by hills and mountains, and sprinkled with small fields of crops and sheep or cattle.

Even in the most barren and remote stretches there was always at least one or two little mud huts with thatched roofs. The buildings were simple, the people obviously poor, but sometimes the locations were so stunningly beautiful you couldn't help but envy them a little.

We frequently passed through tiny villages or small towns. Everywhere we saw the stray dogs, sometimes alone, sometimes in small packs. In the towns we would sometimes see them on the roofs of buildings 2 or 3 stories up, looking down on the street below.

We passed several schools, usually long, plain, one or two story buildings. Some of these appeared to be boarding schools. Though the schools certainly were poor by our standards, the school children always wore uniforms and looked neat and clean and happy - or at least as happy as any child going to school can possibly look.

Our first stop was at an archeological site in the town of Pucara. This was one of the places the bus could have skipped as far as I was concerned. It consisted of a small museum and an outer courtyard with some ancient stone sculptures. The most interesting of these was one large sculpture that was supposed to a toad, but bore an uncanny resemblance to the alien E.T.

The town is known for its production of small ceramic bulls, which Peruvians place on their roofs in sets of two for good luck. Cows and bulls were introduced to Peru by the Europeans, but according to our guide this tradition predates their arrival; originally a pair of Llamas would have been used.

Adjacent to the museum was a very old stone Catholic church which we also spent a few minutes in. It had enormous wooden doors, and the only light came from the windows, so it was a little dark and a bit haunting. It had some decorations, but was far from ornate; still, it had its own raw sacred beauty.

Our next stop was at the mountain pass of La Raya. With an elevation of 14,218 feet, it was the highest point of our journey, a couple thousand feet higher than Lake Titicaca. It would be, as they say, all downhill from there, and our guide assured us that those being bothered by Soroche would gradually start feeling better as we made our way down to Cusco.  We stopped here very briefly to take pictures with the majestic Andes as a background.

This was also the first place I was able to get a good look at a Llama. We saw a local woman walking around with two of them, and for a small fee you could get your picture taken with them. We didn't do this, but it was still cool to see her walking around with them, just like they were a couple of dogs.

  I had seen a couple llamas from the bus, but not close up, and I am pretty sure I saw a Llama skeleton on a barren stretch of road. The bones were from a good sized animal, and it had a long neck, so I am pretty sure that is what it was.

We stopped in the little town of Sicuani for lunch at a buffet style restaurant.

The meal was included in our tour package, but soft drinks and bottled water were extra. There was a wide variety to choose from at the buffet, and enough vegetarian options to fill up the plate.

The walls were decorated with local artwork and artifacts (including the skin from a very BIG snake!).

In the center of the restaurant was a display of Peruvian vegetables and grains. I was especially interested in the Peruvian corn, which has much larger kernels than what we have here in America, and comes in a several different colors. I wanted to try some, but apparently it is seasonal, as I couldn't find it to eat anywhere.

A girl had come around to take orders for soft drinks, and I had ordered a Sprite. As we were finishing up, she came back to collect payment for the drink. If communication was our biggest obstacle in Peru, dealing with the currency came in a close second. The smallest denomination Nuevo Sol paper money comes in is a s/10.00.    Anything smaller comes in coins, which apparently are scare. Finding merchants willing to break a 50 or 100 denomination bill was big challenge, and even 20's and 10's could be problematic, especially for small purchases. Often they would laugh at us and shake their heads if we offered a larger bill, and more often than not would refuse to take it.

I had tried to keep some coins on me, not only because they were a necessity, but because they came in handy for giving to the elderly beggars I sometimes encountered.  However, the previous night, The Doctor had taken all my coins, exchanging them for paper money. He was trying to build complete sets of the coins as gifts for his 5 nieces and nephews. I had been happy to help out, but this left me with no change at all.

So when the girl came to collect payment for my soda, I offered her the smallest bill I had - either a 10 or a 20, and she merely shook her head. I turned to The Doctor and told him I needed some coins but he said he didn't have any. The girl was getting impatient, and I think she feared I was trying to avoid paying for the drink. She didn't speak English, but her glaring expression came through loud and clear. I again told The Doctor I needed some coins, and reminded him that I had given him my change the night before. He answered that those coins were for his nieces and nephews. We still had several days in Peru, and I figured we would be able to replenish his collection in that time, or certainly get more coins at a bank if need be, but at the moment I needed to pay the girl. The Doctor didn't seem to see the situation as being quite as dire as I did, and finally loosing my patience, I blurted out: "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? YOU TOOK ALL MY CHANGE!!!".

The Doctor calmly said he would go get the change, and headed back to the bus. The girl continued to glare, and I assured her as best I could that she would get her money. She moved on to another table, where several large bills were presented to her, for which she suddenly seemed to have an ample amount of coins on her to make correct change.

I hate getting impatient like that, and I felt bad for taking out my frustration on The Doctor. It was, after all, MY soda that needed paying for, and it may have been a little unfair to drag him into it. He was gone for what seemed like a long time, and I was afraid his coin collection might have been in his luggage, which was stowed under the bus, and would be hard for him to get to. But eventually he returned with enough coins for me to pay the girl.

I apologized to him for my over reaction to the situation. By the end of the day we were able to laugh about it, and frequently one or the other of us would for no reason at all blurt out "YOU TOOK ALL MY CHANGE!!!"

After lunch we boarded the bus again and headed to our next stop, Raqhi. Here stand the remains of a very impressive Incan temple. It is far from intact, but the sections of walls and the columns that do remain hint at its enormous scale.

The complex also included the remains of private homes and several large store houses. These were large round stone structures, sort of like silos, only shorter. None of these were completely intact, but one had been restored, complete with a thatched roof. We went inside, and the temperature was probably at least a good 10 degrees cooler (if not more) than the outside air temperature.

The entire site was fairly large, and this is one place I would definitely have liked to have had more time to explore.  (Below:  The Doctor exploring the ruins at Raqhi.)

Our last stop before reaching Cusco was at the village of Andahuaylillas to visit The Church Of San Pedro.

This cathedral has been dubbed "The Sistine Chapel of The Andes" due to its magnificent artwork. Sadly the church is also a symbol of the arrogance of the Spanish Catholics who built it. Here, as in other places in Peru, an ancient Incan temple was torn down, and the cathedral built on the same site. (In some places, they actually used the stones from the old temples to build the new churches). Still, the artwork was very impressive. Interestingly, much of the artwork was done by Peruvians, under the training and supervision of Spanish instructors. Because of this, some Peruvian influences manage to slip through. For instance, one work of art depicting a Biblical scene shows a leafy Coca plant growing in the foreground.  (Below:  Stray dogs napping on the steps of  The Church Of San Pedro.)

From there, we traveled on to Cusco. At the bus station, we retrieved our baggage, and got a taxi to drive us to our hostel. The driver - as was the norm - did not speak much English, but was nice and very friendly. Along the way he pointed out as best he could various things that he thought might of interest to us. One of these was the Palacio de Justicia, or courthouse. It was large ornate building, much bigger and grander than the only other one I had seen in Peru, the one in Puno. I managed to get across to him that I worked for the courts in America, and he made some quick witted joke about me working for the "Palacio de Inquisicion".

The Pirwa Hostel in Cusco we had reservations for was right across from the main square, or the Plaza de Armas (every city we went to had a Plaza de Armas!). Our driver let us out in front, and even carried our bags into the lobby for us. We gave the desk clerk our names, and - no big surprise - he had no reservation listed for us. I showed him the confirmation Liset had sent me, and he seemed baffled over the situation. Finally he made a phone call, and then told us that we were actually booked for another one of their hostels in Cusco. I wasn't too happy about this, more disgusted by the fact that it was just another in the long series of miscommunications I had had with Pirwa. I showed him again the confirmation that clearly listed THIS hostel as the one we had reserved, but he insisted we were at the other. A woman came and offered to lead us to where we belonged, and as it turned out, it was literally right around the corner, probably not even a 5 minute walk. In the end it was no big deal, but I just don't like that kind of thing.

The hostel we ended up at was by far the nicest of the Pirwa Hostels we had stayed at yet. Our room was in the lower level - I hate to use the word "basement" because it was nicer than that implies. There were no windows, except one large one looking out into an inside lobby area outside the room. The room was decorated very tastefully and even had a swan made from towels on our bed, just like the cruise ships.

And best of all THE SHOWER HAD HOT WATER!

We took a few minutes to get settled, and while we were doing so, there was a knock at the door. The desk clerk asked for me, and said I had a phone call from someone named Jessica. All I could think of was that it was Yeshica, the other Pirwa contact I had dealt with, perhaps calling to apologize for the confusion over the room. I went up to the desk to take the call, and discovered it was Jessica Llontrop from Pachatusantrek, the company through which we had arranged our transportation to the Poroy train station for the following morning. She had been one of the easiest and nicest people I had had to deal with while planning the trip, and once again I was impressed with her attentativeness. She was calling to confirm our pick up for the next morning.  She was the ONLY person we dealt with ANYWHERE who had contacted US to confirm ANYTHING! Not only that, she had gone to the extra trouble of tracking us down after first calling the other Pirwa Hostel where I had originally told her we would be staying. I explained there had been some confusion over the hostels, but that we had planned on walking around the corner to the first hostel to be there for our pick up in the morning, but she said not to worry, they would come get us at our new location. She couldn't have been nicer, not to mention she spoke great English!!!

After getting settled we went out to check out Cusco. It was after dark by this time, but the area was lit up and bustling, people everywhere, and lots of shops and restaurants on the streets surrounding the plaza. It felt like a little piece of New York City, perhaps a very minuscule version of Times Square.

Our time in Cusco was going to be rather limited, but the one thing I had hoped to see was The Cathedral, a large Catholic Church directly across from the Plaza. One of the things this Cathedral is known for is a certain painting of the Last Supper which depicts Christ and the Disciples dining on Cuy, or Guinea Pig - another little tribute to Peruvian Culture slipped into a Biblical painting. Unfortunately, the hours the Cathedral were open did not coincide with any of the times we would be free, so I was a little disappointed about not being able to see the painting..

We walked around for an hour or so. The Doctor wanted to find a pharmacy to get some Sudafed for his cold. We had both felt a little relief from some of the lingering symptoms of the Soroche since arriving in Cusco - which was still a high elevation, but lower than Puno - but his cold was still pretty bad, and my head was stuffed up as well. We found a pharmacy and went in, and when he asked for Sudafed, of course he got a blank stare from the pharmacist. Not only did she not speak English, but apparently Sudafed is not a recognizable brand name (like, say, Coca Cola, for example . . .) So he pointed at his nose and made some sniffling noises, and she disappeared into the back and returned with a couple boxes of pills. One had the Spanish equivalent of the word for decongestant on it; the other she pointed at and coughed. The Doctor did not have a cough, so he chose the first box. The pills were in bubble packs, with probably 8 to 10 in a pack, and instead of selling him the box, the pharmacist sold him one pack.

We walked around some more and did a little shopping. Again, we encountered older people begging, and of course lots of aggressive hawkers trying to interest us in the wares they carried around with them. I also had a couple offers for a shoe shine. My shoes are black, and more of a running shoe, not exactly what you would think of as needing a shine, but that didn't seem to matter. The cost was only one Sol, but I passed. Many of the hawkers and shoe shine people were just kids, probably not more than 10 or 12.

We looked around for a place to eat, but nothing really seemed to grab us. I had read about one restaurant called The Fallen Angel, that sounded quite interesting. While Lima has two or three gay nightclubs, Cusco had none, but my Fodor's said Fallen Angel was gay friendly, and frequently hosted gay events. But it also said the menu was pretty heavy on steak, so I doubted they would have many vegetarian options. As nothing else interested us, The Doctor suggested we should at least check it out.

For a restaurant named The Fallen Angel, it was appropriately located behind The Cathedral, a block or so from a Purgatorio Street.

As soon as we walked in we were in love with the place, and a quick scan of the menu showed plenty of vegetarian options. It reminded me of a restaurant one might find in New York City. Funky artwork (all of it for sale) hung on the walls of the four or five small dining rooms. In one room, a large metalic sculpture of an angel towered over the tables.

The room we sat in had a brimstone like ceiling with dangling sculptures of mischievous winged pigs flying around.

There were two bathrooms; instead of being marked for men or women, one had a halo over the door, the other a devil's tail, and both were decorated appropriately for either a saint or a sinner.

Perhaps most novel were some of the larger tables, which were actually bathtubs filled with water and live fish, covered over with a glass table top. Sadly, these seemed to be for larger groups, so we didn't get seated at one of those.

My birthday had been earlier in the month, and The Doctor had suggested we would celebrate it somewhere in Peru. After arriving at the Fallen Angel, we decided this was the place! The food was delicious. I got a sweet potato ravioli dish, and some kind of rice pudding for dessert. They also gave us a complimentary appetizer of cheese and olives, served with toothpicks stuck into a red heart centerpiece. The Doctor got a dessert crepe, which looked heavenly (? . . . . perhaps "sinful is the better word . . . ), and even had a small mound of sugar that was in flames when it was brought to the table. . The whole plate - including the silverware - was dusted with powered sugar, and when he lifted the fork and spoon, it left a pattern in the sugar reminiscent of pitchfork and a halo.

Also connected with the restaurant was a Bed & Breakfast. We could only imagine what THAT would be like. Several times during our meal we heard a doorbell ring. We weren't sure what it was, but assumed it had something to do with the B&B. Taking a cue from the movie "It's A Wonderful Life", and keeping with the theme of the restaurant, we joked that every time the bell rang, somewhere an angel had LOST his wings . . .