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 . . .
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