We were parallel to the Inca trail and started our journey into the semi-tropical rain forest.

On the train there were some tourists from the northern part of this continent with huge lenses and motor drives taking thousands of photos of trees !!! They did not seem to really know what they were taking. Perhaps they could learn a thing or two from Mum and I. We are only amateurs but they seem to have all the gear and no idea !!!

The railway passed straight through the hotel grounds before reaching the station.

We left our bags at our hotel, the Inkaterra and went on a scary bus trip up the valley toward Machu Picchu.

We had lunch at the Sanctuary lodge or as Ben likes to call it McDonalds. This was disappointing in every way. We had expected white cotton sheets, superb service and a luxurious ambiance as this is a Orient Express hotel. Instead we were greeted with an overcrowded, loud buffet.

We walked up about quarter of a mile to get to Machu Picchu and the ruins seemed hidden until you turned the last corner. Then they appeared before you just like you see the postcards.

We saw two main building styles. The common people lived in smaller stone bricked houses with mortor and the more ornate buildings used larger stones which were cut and laid without mortar.

There were temples to the gods of sun and moon.

There were many artifacts such as gold, mummies, textiles and ceramic. These are not currently in Peru as they were taken by the founder, Hyram Bingham, back to Yale university for research. The Peruvian government hopes that they will be returned very soon.

We then went back to the hotel for happy hour and booked tours for the next day. We had one round of various sours and then tried to go to see a film. This was not available so we used the time to have some more sours and then went back. The film was not a film but a series of picture on Orchids around the hotel. This was very interesting.

Then we had dinner in the restaurant. It was quite odd because you are right next to the trains so these were quite off putting during the dinner.

Study Spanish in Cusco located high in the Andes in Southeastern Peru. Cusco is an exquisite city with a breathtaking landscape and a deep historical heritage. With a population of around 300,000 people it is small enough to get a true feel for the city as well as enjoy yourself experiencing the night life, touring the historical sights, and sampling the local cuisine.

Get a historical perspective while studying Spanish in Cusco which was once the capital of the great Inca Empire. Believed to be founded in the 11^th Century incredibly many of the foundations are still intact, some are even said to be stronger than foundations in present day Peru. Studying Spanish in Peru presents you with the opportunity to experience numerous activities. While the city of Cusco is most well known as the starting point for the trek to Machu Picchu, the city itself and the surrounding area have many historical sites that are well worth taking in. As well as the once in a lifetime journey along the Inca Trail, there are many other outdoor activities available while you are learning Spanish in Cusco such as white water rafting, mountain biking, horseriding, jungle trips, and an array of sensational trekking options.

For complete Spanish immersion engulf yourself in the multitude of other things the city has to offer. Learning Spanish in Cusco goes far beyond studying in the classroom, it has a magnificent nightlife which thrives in the city´s main square, the Plaza de Armas, with locals and tourists alike enjoying the festivities. Cusco also has one of Peru’s top soccer clubs, Cienciano, demand for tickets is very high so if you want to go you will have to queue for them but the excitement and atmosphere makes it well worth it. For something to do during the day take a look around the city and explore the local shopping scene where there are many artesanal handcrafted items to be found and, with no fixed prices, bargaining is welcome. So come learn Spanish in Cusco and find out what it is all about!

Many months and dollars later I find myself on a bus heading through Giza, glimpsing the pyramids through the haze. Once you get off the bus, they're sort of just there. "There" in a mundane kind of way - like the way your letter-box is just 'there' at the end of the driveway. They looked just like the photographs, except with hawkers trying to sell you stuff, tourist police pointing rusty AK-47s at you and a variety of sand, wind, sun and heat. It wasn't really the pyramid experience I'd dreamed of.

I thought, if it looks just like the photos, I guess I'll go inside. This was a mistake. Egypt has exactly no safety standards. The passage into the pyramids is cramped and dim - but the biggest problem was the ventilation. There wasn't any. So the air is breathed and re-breathed countless times. Even thought you're breathing in an out, it feels like you're holding your breath. I saw genuine fear on the faces of the older and fatter tourists struggling to clamber-out to the desert air.

After doing the pyramid thing, I had a bit of a reflection. My empiricist tendencies tell me that actually experiencing something is the best way to learn. But that wasn't true. I learned nothing about the pyramids. I may as well have spent 10 minutes on Google searching for 'pyramid' while punching myself in the face and burning piles of my money.

Why is this important? I'm thinking about going on another holiday. Currently I'm looking at Latin America, partying in Rio, hiking around Peru, seeing Machu Picchu - that kind of stuff. But am I getting myself into more of the same? If I do this, is it just going to suck walking around at high altitude, living off crap food and sleeping in crap accommodation with crap showers all to see something which doesn't come close to the dream?

The Philosophy of Travel

This brings us around to why people travel. Travel is held out in Western society as this great purpose. We go to work to save to travel. Travel fulfills us. Travel is the meaning of life. But does this work? Is travel working? Are the answers really to be found out there in the world - it's just a matter of physically journeying to find them?

Let's chuck out a list of why you might want to travel.

• To relax. I'm happy with this as a reason, but my word of caution is that the relaxation of the holiday has to be better than the relaxation you can get at home. And it has to be better by a large degree to justify the outlay. And home can be a pretty relaxing place. Our 'home' is the place we've gathered all the things we like into a place where we want to be. We know our home, we know where the shops are, how the transport works and where to get good take-out. Contrast traveling where you're doing new and surprising things. I think that's an element of stress which the relaxation has to offset. Is all the effort and expense of going to a resort in Hawaii really more relaxing than taking the time off and relaxing at home?
• To Adventure. I’m not convinced. Adventure doesn’t seem desirable. Crawling into a pyramid was ‘adventurous’ but rubbish. But I like to take people’s positions at their best. So perhaps ‘adventure’ boils down into other concepts, like ‘learning about new cultures’ and ‘being excited’. These things might have value.
• Excitement. Excitement might be an answer , but note that it’s on the other side of a spectrum from relaxation. Rollercoasters are exciting, but you’d never describe them as relaxing. Also, the merit of excitement is a matter of taste. Jumping out of a plane is pretty exciting – but is that a good reason to do it?
• To Learn. I’m in favour of learning, and I think that learning is a justification for large outlays of money. Degrees aren’t cheap. The caveat is that you don’t learn much about pyramids by going there. But you do learn a lot about the broken obelisk or modern Egyptian culture by going there – this can be worthwhile.
• For good anecdotes and social cache. So maybe I’m being a bit cynical here, but I think one of the underlying reasons for traveling is to build your story-telling repertoire. Job interviewers seem to like hearing about your holiday to Europe. I think this is actually worth pursing, a story you can tell at a bar or in a blog is valuable.

I've tried to make a graph by breaking down “adventure” into “excitement” “learning” and “social cache”. I've put excitement on the same axis as relaxation and merged “learning” and “social cache” for the vertical axis. But, to be honest, the graph is rubbish. Things like 'cheap v expensive' and 'stressful v boring' are factors - but making a 5d graph isn't overly useful.

Conclusion

Moral of the story is that I can't come up with a good reason to travel. I thought I had it sorted, but the Pyramids were the zenith of my philosophy and they ended up sinking my battleship. Now I have these diverse fragments of taste that don't fit together. I like being relaxed, but home is perhaps better. I like being excited, but it shouldn't mean being stressed. I want to learn things, but I think that new technology is a better way of learning. I want social-cache, but should I have to empty my bank account to get it? I'm at an intellectual impasse - I need your help.

]]> http://xtinacooke.wordpress.com/?p=422 Wed, 30 Jul 2008 14:49:16 +0000 xtinac http://xtinacooke.wordpress.com/?p=422 After straddling the equator for a bit, I chose the northern side — just in time for my third summer in a row. Yes, it's true. I've returned to the United States after nine months living and working in South America. I am living temporarily at my parents’ house in hot, humid Greensboro, North Carolina — 6,000 miles from where I lived in Chile and 2,500 miles from Quito, Ecuador, the last place I visited.

Me, backbending over the equator near Quito.

It’s nice to be reunited with friends, family and fluffy bath towels, with wardrobe choices, Claussen pickles and my bicycle. At the same time, though, I miss South America. I liked seeing women spinning wool on the sidewalks (that just doesn’t happen in Greensboro), men selling fresh-squeezed orange juice on street corners (sooo much tastier than concentrate from Bi-Lo) and long-lashed llamas strolling the central plazas with their owners (those underbites are so damn adorable). I liked cramming myself into the overcrowded collectivos, the vans that transport you as far as you need to go for 10 cents, and striking up conversations with whoever was mashed against me. The colors and smells in South America are so vibrant. I don't get the same sense of vitality driving around here in my air-conditioned car.

In the name of nostalgia, and before I forget, let me share a few stories from my travels with my sister Laura:

* Many of the women in Bolivia and Peru, especially those who live in the countryside, wear bowler hats with their traditional pleated skirts and woven shawls. We learned that a hat’s shape and style indicates its wearer’s hometown and maritial status.
The cab driver who drove us to and from a trailhead outside Huaraz, Peru, appointed himself our personal headwear translator.
“That woman is looking for a husband,” he said in Spanish, as we rumbled, windows down, past a teengage girl in a low bowler. “She’s married,” he said as we passed a woman standing in the doorway of a house. Then, a few minutes later, he pointed at a woman in a field by the road and shouted: “WIDOW!”

OK, so these women weren't among those whose civil status our cab driver identified — these two live on floating reed islands in the middle of Lake Titicaca — but, they ARE wearing bowler hats.

* The garbage trucks in Huaraz, Peru blast music from loudspeakers as they collect the city’s trash. Several times as we were walking through town, we heard symphonies and concertos blasting at top volume. We looked around for the source of the noise, then realized it was coming from… yes, the garbage truck.

* The mousy middle-aged woman tending our hostel in Valparaiso, Chile, was very concerned about keeping the place safe while the owner was out of town. “Don’t let any strangers in,” she told us in Spanish as she handed us the keys to the front door. “People in this city are liars and thieves. They’ll tell you anything to get inside, then steal all your things.”
Later that day, as she slipped on her coat to run an errand, she stopped by our room to issue another reminder: “I’m going down the street,” she said. “Don't let anyone in while I'm gone.”
Laura looked at me in mock confusion after she had left, bolting the door behind her.
“I don't quite get what she's saying," she said. "Is it OK to let strangers in?"

A Valparaiso hillside through power lines

A mural we found at the top of one of the city's ascensores, or elevators

A ship in Valpo's port

* Our Peruvian guide through Machu Picchu, God bless him, spoke in English with such unusual pronunciation and sentence structure that it was nearly impossible to understand him. He leaned forward, clenched his fists and closed his eyes anytime he had to squeeze out a word of more than one syllable. And, rather than speaking in sentences with subjects, verbs and direct objects, he strung together various words semi-related to the same topic.
“The water mirror, the observer, the reflection of the sun, the reflection, the star of the night,” he explained of a pool of water within the ruins.
My sister Laura and I found his animated but incomprehensible delivery absolutely hilarious. But it’s not OK to laugh at someone. It’s very rude, in fact.
And so we separated from each other so as not to feed each other’s hysterics. “Sad thoughts, sad thoughts, sad thoughts,” I told myself, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I managed to reign in my laughter, but just barely.
On the other side of our group, Laura was not so successful. By the end of the guide’s explanation, she had tears streaming down her face.
The guide noticed her disheveled state and approached her. It’s OK, he said. Many people find Machu Picchu to be a spiritual place. It’s not unusual to cry.
“Oh, good,” she said.

* We found ourselves running to and from the bathroom a lot more than usual at the high-altitude Hualla Jarra hostel, located in the middle of the stark Bolivian desert. During one trip to the co-ed bathroom, I stood up after using the toilet and found myself face to face with a Dutch guy, tall as me, peeing in the adjoining stall. While still taking care of business, he turned, looked me in the eye, and said, “Did you know that altitude increases bladder capacity?” I'm still not sure what his name is.

Alexis in the breezeway of the Hualla Jarra hostel (not peeing, but probably thinking about it)

* The driver of a pickup truck would not let our bus pass him on a narrow dirt road through the Bolivian countryside. When our driver finally managed to edge his way around the stubborn truck, his assistant leaned out the window and emptied a cup of water into the offending vehicle’s open front window. The driver was drenched, and we were off.

* In La Paz, we went to a soccer game between the capitol's two teams — El Club Bolívar and The Strongest. Against the better judgment of the boys in our group, we decided to root for Club Bolívar because their name wasn't in English and their uniforms were prettier (light blue, compared to black and yellow). I think we might have been the most devoted fans there; We showed up a full hour before anyone else and were constantly ready to kick ass.

Our team didn't do so well during the first half of the game, causing the boys to want to defect to The Strongest side. Fortunately, they stayed faithful to the underdogs, and Bolivar pulled off a tie (probably because they looked so good in their uniforms). I must say, though, I'm impressed with all the players, who manage to sprint around for an hour at 12,000 feet above sea level.

* For some reason, our backpacks exploded every time we uncinched their straps. We never had any casualties, but there were some close calls.

How does this happen?

I hope, as I reacclimate to life in the U.S.A., I can hold onto some of the things I learned during my travels. I'd like my adventure to be something that impacts who I am and how I experience life.

For one, I'd like to continue living with the same simplicity as in South America. OK, so maybe I won't wear the same shirt EVERY day — but, I'd like to keep in mind that for nine months, I lived out of a backpack and was absolutely fine. Too much stuff clutters me up and weighs me down, even here, where I'm not carrying it all on my back.

I'd like to maintain the same resourcefulness and flexibility I developed on the road and remain as open with other people as when I was traveling.

In addition, I hope exposure to different cultures and ways of life can inform my own — can make me more aware of the varying backgrounds and situations of people in the United States and more grateful for the opportunities I have in my life. So many people we saw in rural South America follow their parents into farming or herding and never leave their villages because they don't have the chance. While their's is just as valid a way of life, I'm grateful for the choices I can make about what to study, where to work and how to live — and the opportunity I have to travel and see other parts of the world.

Finally, I'd like to maintain the friendships I built in South America, especially in Patagonia, where I lived the longest. Each of my friends there — and from the road — enriched my experience tremendously, and I hope we can stay in touch for a long time to come.

Huffing and puffing along the legendary Inca Trail en route to Machu Picchu with just my trekking poles and a light daypack in tow, there were numerous moments when I felt taking another step was impossible. As I find a rocky slab to sit on and collect my breath, the words "Hola señorita!" jolt me back to life. Porters. With huge grins while forging on like soldier ants, they march past me with pounds of gear strapped to their backs.

Read more at WEND Magazine's Blog and contribute a photo into their Flickr pool.

Be sure to check out WEND Magazine - an excellent magazine that inspires adventure. They also publish a pretty sweet digital version of their magazine online for limited periods.

http://www.travelagewest.com/print.aspx?id=15764

SPLENDORS OF AREQUIPA

http://www.travelagewest.com/sthcenamer/article_ektid15766.aspx?terms=marissa+tinloy

FESTIVALS OF PERU

http://www.travelagewest.com/sthcenamer/article_ektid15772.aspx?terms=marissa+tinloy

La Sociedad Americana de Ingenieros Civiles (ASCE, por sus siglas en inglés) distinguirá en Cusco a la ciudadela de Machu Picchu y al complejo arqueológico de Tipón como Monumentos Internacionales de Ingeniería Civil.

El reconocimiento se realizará el sábado 26 en la Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad del Cusco (UNSAAC), durante el foro internacional “Distinción científica a Machu Picchu y Tipón como expresiones más altas de la ingeniería civil”.

Wayne Klotz, presidente electo de la ASCE; y Víctor Raúl Aguilar, rector de la UNSAAC,  harán entrega de las placas de bronce correspondientes.

El foro internacional congregará a distinguidos investigadores sociales, entre los que destacan Ruth Wright, Kenneth Wright, Henry Petroski, Aleksandar Vesic, Clifford Schexnayder, Jorge Flórez Ochoa, David Ugarte, Luis Barreda Murillo y Alfredo Valencia Zegarra.

El encuentro académico contempla también la presentación de los libros “Machu Picchu: la nueva maravilla del mundo” y “Tipón: obra maestra de la ingeniería hidráulica del imperio inca”, ambas publicadas por la ASCE.

Durante la cita, Aguilar distinguirá como profesores honorarios de la UNSAAC a los doctores Kenneth y Ruth Wright, destacados investigadores de la cultura andina peruana, quienes ofrecerán una conferencia sobre Machu Picchu.

El foro internacional empezará mañana y culminará el domingo, y tendrá como escenario las instalaciones del paraninfo universitario.

La calificación de Monumento Internacional de Ingeniería Civil constituye el más alto reconocimiento entregado en Estados Unidos a los sitios arqueológicos del mundo considerados obras maestras de la ingeniería universal.

La designación fue establecida en 2006, gracias al esfuerzo del Instituto Paleo-hidrogeológico Wright -de los investigadores Kenneth y Ruth Wright-, la Universidad Nacional de Ingeniería del Perú, el Instituto Nacional de Cultura (INC) del Cusco, la UNSAAC, la Academia Nacional de Historia y el Consulado General del Perú en Denver, entre otros.

Machu Picchu, ciudadela incaica de unos cinco kilómetros cuadrados y que alberga importantes restos arqueológicos, fue declarada por la Unesco como Patrimonio de la Humanidad en 1983.

Por su parte, el complejo arqueológico de Tipón, dotado de recintos reales y fuentes de agua, está ubicado a 23 kilómetros al sudeste de la Ciudad Imperial, en el distrito de Oropesa, provincia de Quispicanchi.

Machu Picchu is one of the marvels of the world with his two hundred buildings Approximately thousand two hundred persons lived in Machu Picchu, and the Peruvian state has done an exceptional work of preserving Machu Picchu. The architects incaicos were a few professional architects who constructed Machu Picchu with blocks of granite and instruments of bronze. The architects incaicos in Machu Picchu advanced so that the thinnest of plates of knife cannot be forced between the stones.

Patru secole au fost necesare pentru descoperirea unei fantastice fortăreţe ascunse printre piscurile de 4000 de metri ale anzilor peruvieni. Nu i se cunoaşte adevăratul nume, ce destinaţie avea şi de ce a fost părasită de bastinaşi în secolul XVI, fară a fi atacată de conchistadori. A scăpat neobservată de europeni până în secolul al XX-lea, când a primit şi numele de Machu Picchu.

În secolul al XII-lea, enigmatica populaţie ce-şi spunea Inca (Fii Soarelui) cucerea un vast teritoriu în nordul şi vestul Americii de Sud, venind de undeva din zona meridională a continentului - nu se ştie nici acum cu precizie de unde. Desi nu erau la fel de razboinici si necrutatori ca aztecii, incasii au cucerit nu mai putin de 500 de civilizatii amerindiene. Nu s-au impus prin cultura (nu cunoşteau nici o scriere) caci acestia transmiteau mesaje printr-un sistem de noduri si lungimi ale sforilor ( ce nu este inca cunoscut ), ci printr-o temeinică, chiar spartană organizare social-legislativă. Dar, mai presus de toate, aveau "obsesia" construcţiilor de drumuri pavate şi de cetaţi-fortareţe (inclusiv în junglă) menite să reziste veşnic în faţa oricărui inamic. Capitala incaşilor, Cuzco, era - arhitectural - comparabilă cu Roma cezarilor. Dar la numai 130 de kilometri de Cuzco, printre crestele andine, se afla cetatea Machu Picchu. Gasită abia în 1911, această citadelă a fost concepută ca un labirint citadin inexpugnabil. La peste 4000 de metri, lemnul era o raritate şi totul a fost durat în piatră: terase, fotificaţii, palate regale, locuinţe simple, bazine de acumulare a apei de ploaie, cărămizi, pieţe şi un sofisticat sistem de parcele agricole pentru cultura principală, porumbul. Totul se încadrează într-un plan urbanistic aparent "întortocheat", menit să deruteze eventualii invadatori. Este un unicat arhitectural impresionant şi abia fotografiile făcute din avion i-au pus în evidenţă toate însuşirile.

De fapt, ceea ce îi frapează cel mai mult pe cercetătorii istoriei amerindienilor este incredibila coincidenţa dintre opera mitică a lui Dedal ("inginerul" care a construit Labirintul de încarcerare a Minotaurului, sau, în altă variantă, palatul-labirint al regelui cretan Minos din Knossos). Labirintul Machu Pichu reflectă la randu-i simbolul vieţii pline de meandre şi în care drumul nu duce niciodată înapoi, ci mereu înainte, spre moarte. Inspirat din spiralele scoicilor (aşa cum afirma poetul grec Theodorides), Labirintul - fie el amerindian, grec sau egiptean (cel al reginei Hawara din Krokodilopolis, de exemplu) - are deci conotaţia luptei cu timpul, el este adevăratul prizonier.

Si înca o enigma: reţelele de drumuri făcute de cei care nu au cunoscut roata! 16.000 de km de drumuri pavate (a doua, ca lungime, dupa reţeaua romană de 90 de mii de km), inclusiv poduri suspendate în zonele mlăştinoase şi nisipoase! De ce acest efort de tăiere de "autostrăzi" în coastele anzilor, dacă incaşii nu au avut vehicule, necunoscând roata? Nu lipseau borne indicatoare din 7 in 7 km şi locuri de odihnă din 20 în 20 de km. Ideea utilizării drept piste de aterizare-decolare a fost avansată de foarte mulţi cercetători, dar nu există dovezi credibile... nu înca... Nici un drum special amenajat nu ducea către Machu Picchu. Această enclavă (probabil a preoţilor, putând adăposti doar 500 de persoane) există parcă în afara timpului şi spaţiului, ascunzând mistere încă de nepătruns.

sursa : wikipedia

The perk of teaching a whole range of ages is variety, whether a diversity of ways to drive a profe loca or a range of opportunities. My 6º grado alumnos went on a Municipalidad de Uurubamba-funded whirlwind tour of the Valle Sagrado, complete with two cases of Koka Real and a cameraman. Lucky for me, Olga needed another chaperone, and I happened to be free. Thus, I herded a rebaño (flock) or Inkan children through the sacred sites of thier not-so-ancient ancestors: Moray, Chincheros, Yucay, Ollantaytambo, La Iglesia del Señor de Torrechayo,  Maras, and other way-stations. In their striking red orange, black, and yellow, they made a pretty picture against the plain but precise stonework. I feel privileged to have visited these places with the great-great-great-...-great grandchildren of thier creators.

Sunday, after jumping out of bed at 4:00 a.m. to catch a 5:30 a.m. train to Aguas Calientes, I spent the day at Machu Picchu. From the misty, cloudy 7:30 a.m. arrival to the shadowed 5 p.m. despedida, the entire day was some sort of surreal. Not only was I at Machu Picchu, but I was also speaking English while soaking up humidity and being bitten by mosquitoes, happy about all of the above, might I add. I cannot hope to descibe my day there or the place, but enjoy the photos when my internet connection decides to be helpful.

Right now, I am adding a few more lessons to the text before I print it out on Saturday. The last thing I thought I would do this summer (or is it winter?) is write a computer textbook, but that´s certainly been part of the adventure.

My host mother is leaving Saturday for an unspecified legnth of time to care for a sick sister and her six small children, so this means that I need to come down a few days earlier than I had planned. A minor plan change and no inconvienence in light of the circumstances. That said, I was mentally prepared to leave Wednesday the 23rd, not Saturday. I suppose I need to get ready, pack up, and weave like a maniac. The fact remains that on a very basic level I do not want to leave.

The above statment is in no way indicative of how much I miss my family, my friends, or animals that I can cuddle with and live flea and rabies-free. Coming home at the end of the month will be happy.

Thank you for your emails and thoughts. I write that every post because I am always grateful for your support and friendship across the distance.

To get to Machu Picchu, you take the train from Cusco or Ollantaytambo (Sacred Valley) to the village of Aguas Calientes (also known as Machu Picchu Pueblo). From there, you take a shuttle bus 9km to the Machu Picchu Sanctuary itself. By train and shuttle is the only way to get to the ruins.

TRAINS

There are three types of trains that go to Aguas Calientes: a backpacker train, the VistaDome, and the Hiram Bingham train.

Most people take the VistaDome train which has glass windows in the roof, so you can see out and enjoy the view. The backpacker train is cheaper and makes many more stops but is still very comfortable. Both trains have multiple departures daily up and back from Cusco and from Ollantytambo. Transfer to the train station is included.

The Hiram Bingham train is very luxurious -- and has a price tag to match (about $375/person one-way). This train includes a gourmet brunch served on the train, afternoon tea served at the Sanctuary Lodge overlooking the Machu Picchu Sanctuary, and a gourmet dinner on board during your return trip.

This only one departure daily excluding Sundays -- morning departure from Cusco and late afternoon departure from Aguas Calientes. This train departs from the Poroy Station just outside Cusco, so you will need a transfer to the station. You can spend the night in Aguas Calientes or the Sanctuary Lodge and the take the train over two days.

The VistaDome and Hiram Bingham trains can fill up -- especially in July and August. If the train you want is full, you may have to start or end in Ollantytambo and take a bus to/from there, or you will have to take the backpacker train one-way on your trip.

MACHU PICCHU GUIDED TOURS

Our tours include a half-day guided tour of Machu Picchu with a local guide. The Hiram Bingham train includes a half day guided tour as well as narration on the train.

If you spend more time in the Machu Picchu area, you will be on your own to explore the ruins or the village area. You may want a guide book to make the most of your visit.

PLANNING YOUR DAY

Most people visit Machu Picchu in a day. Therefore, it is busiest from 10am until 2pm. If you want to visit the ruins when it is not so crowded (to get better pictures), you may want to spend the night so that you can visit later in the afternoon or first thing in the morning.

There are many great treks around Machu Picchu. The most popular is to Wayna Picchu, the hill you see above the ruins. There are only 500 tickets given out each day, which are free, but you will want to get one as soon as possible before they run out (your guide can help you with this).

There are other interesting hikes around Machu Picchu. Many people like to hike back towards the Inca Trail to get pictures from the Sun Gate. Many guide books describe all the different hiking trails in the area, but some are closed due to landslides. Check with a local guide for information on which trails are still open.

WHERE TO STAY

We can book any hotel in the Aguas Calientes area that you wish. The most popular are

The Sanctuary Lodge is the only hotel located right at the Machu Picchu Sanctuary and is the most luxurious in the area.

The Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel is a 4-star hotel centrally located in Aguas Calientes.

The Machu Picchu Inn is a high-end 3-star hotel centrally located in Aguas Calientes.

The El Presidente is a comfortable 3-star backpacker hotel centrally located in Aguas Calientes.

AGUAS CALIENTES

Aguas Calientes is a small village with a nice local crafts market and small, interesting churches. There are hot springs near by, which are open to the public for a nominal fee.

Let me explain. While at home in California I got to spend quality time with my young nieces from Colorado, who, at ages 12 and almost 11, are finally old enough to understand the magnitude of international travel and actually be interested in it. (As opposed to six years ago when the little Flamenco fans I brought from Spain were cool solely for the pretty designs on them.)

Now, these girls have had their fair share of travel in the course of their young lives, but somehow trips to California or even the all-inclusive resort in Mexico (while it of course has its merit) does not quite have the same effect. Getting their hair braided doesn't count discovering a culture.

So the fact that Alyssa (the older sister)'s eyes lit up when I mentioned my trip to Peru was fantastic. When she enthusiastically told me she'd done a project on Peru this year, I wasted no time in whisking her away to my computer and pulling up photos from the trek (a feat not all that easy, given that the pictures—which I finally had all organized and ready to send out—were lost when my hard drive crashed).

There we sat for nearly an hour, flipping through photos of the trail, the houses, the people, and, wonder of wonders, Machu Picchu. To my delight, Alyssa was riveted, as was her sister Nicolette. They were fascinated by the scenery, the dress, the trek itself. And the fact that their aunty (who, admittedly, they know to be a bit of a priss) went five days without showering. And, for my part, I loved reliving the experiences and the stories, and watching their excitement.

But even better was the fact that they were experiencing the wonders of travel (albeit armchair travel) for the first time. While I'll never know the exact impact it had, by the looks on their faces I'd guess that these girls figured out that there are wonders out there, and that it's within their reach to see them.

But more importantly, I think it sparked a desire to see them, and it was educational too. Later that day, when Alyssa and I visited the store and I didn't take a bag for our cans of condensed milk (a preview of my next post) we talked about doing little things for the environment. And when I told her that Salkantay, the glacier she saw in my photos, was melting rapidly because of global warming, her response was, "That would be terrible if I wanted to see it when I grow up and it wasn't there." Check and check. New generation of female travelers (and environmentalists) officially recruited.

La ciudadela inca de Machu Picchu se convirtió en junio pasado en el destino más vendido a nivel mundial según la página web iExplore, una de las más visitadas por turistas del mundo y especializada en venta de paquetes turísticos vía internet, informó la Comisión de Promoción del Perú para la Exportación y el Turismo (Promperú).

Machu Picchu lidera la lista de los diez destinos más vendidos a nivel mundial, seguida del Cultural Tour en Tailandia, Las Pirámides de Egipto y de Safari en Sudáfrica.

También supera en preferencia como destino turístico a la Aventura (Belice), Cultural Tour (Grecia), la Gran Muralla (China), Islas Galápagos (Ecuador), Taj Mahal (India) y Safari (Madagascar).

La calificación que realiza esta página web servirá de recomendación de viaje para millones de viajeros que utilizan Internet como principal fuente de información para decidir su desplazamiento.Promperú recordó que National Geographic ubicó a la ruta Salcantay-Machu Picchu entre los 25 mejores nuevos viajes para realizar en el presente año.

iExplore es una página especializada en turismo de aventura que recibe mensualmente más de un millón de visitas.

Además, dicho portal ubica a Machu Picchu en el segundo puesto entre los diez mejores destinos culturales en este año.

El primer lugar correspondió a Las Pirámides de Egipto, mientras que en el tercer lugar fue elegido Jerusalén (Israel), seguido de la Gran Muralla (China), Roma (Italia) y el Taj Mahal (India).

Otros destinos de la lista son Angkor (Cambodia), Stonehenge (Inglaterra), Petra (Jordania) y la Isla de Pascua (Chile).

Fundada en 1999, iExplore es uno de los líderes mundiales en venta online de paquetes turísticos. Fue elegida por la revista Forbes como número uno entre los siete turísticos de aventura durante siete años consecutivos.

Malle Pietj(u)es Martens

Een beetje een Malle Pietj(u)e moet je wel zijn om naar Machu Picchu te gaan.  Maar liefst 2500 bezoekers per dag (in het hoogseizoen). En jeetje, wat is het een geregel om er te komen! Maarja het is natuurlijk niet voor niets één van de zeven (nieuwe) wereldwonderen.

Online treinkaartjes zijn niet te boeken. De betaalmogelijkheid van de website weigert iedere toerist... Naar een reisbureau dus maar. Maar de reisbureaus proberen de arme Malle Pietj(u)es Martens flink op te lichten. Ze rekenen astronomische bedragen, voor de toch al niet goedkope, treinkaartjes. Nee mevrouw, we willen écht geen 100 dollar per kaartje betalen. Kom op zeg, we zijn toch geen Malle Pietj(u)es!

Uiteindelijk weten we de diensten van firma geldwolf handig te omzeilen. Of eigenlijk... we kopen gewoon, een aantal dagen voor vertrek, kaartjes op het treinstation in Cuzco. Het vertrekpunt van de trein. We moeten nu wel halverwege het traject opstappen (Cuzco is uitverkocht). Maarja, we zijn inmiddels natuurlijk doorgewinterde reizigers die de hand daar niet voor omdraaien. De kaartjes zijn trouwens nog steeds enorm aan de prijs! 53 dollar enkele reis vanaf het tussenstation... (dat kan allemaal als je een monopolie hebt). Maargoed, we zijn ook wel heel erg benieuwd naar Machu Picchu!

De Incastad is alleen te bereiken per trein. Of te voet (als je een half jaar geleden hebt ingeschreven voor de 5 daagse Inca-trail). Nee, geen mega wandeling voor ons. We waren te laat voor een plekkie (oooooh, wat een enorm goed excuus! We moeten werkelijk niet denken aan die bere-zware wandeltocht in polonaise).

We gaan dus naar het dorpje Aguas Calientes per trein. Aguas Calientes ligt aan de voet van de bergen waar Machu Picchu zich verschuilt heeft. Daar overnachtten we, noodzaak als je Machu Picchu bij zonsopkomst wilt zien.

Ook de hotelprijzen in Aguas Calientes zijn 50 tot 100 procent hoger dan in de rest van Peru. De toerist wordt hier door reisbureaus, treinoperator, busmaatschappij, hotels, restaurants en overheid flink uitgeknepen. Zielige Malle Pietj(u)s?

We besluiten maar niet te diep na te denken over al dat geld. We maken namelijk een exclusief uitstapje naar de beroemdste Inca stad ter wereld!!

Als we om half zes in de ochtend aankomen bij de bushalte blijkt dat we niet de enigen zijn. Alle Lemmingen hebben zich verzameld. Blijkt Machu Picchu niet alleen verschrikkelijk overprijst maar ook overbevolkt!

Als we na een korte busrit boven op de berg aankomen, beginnen we enigszin sceptisch aan ons bezoek aan Machu Picchu. Waar zijn we aan begonnnen? Er reden vanmorgen al meer dan 20 bussen (a la 50 toeristen). Mopper, de mopper!!!

We besluiten -opstandig- een pad op te lopen, weg van de massa. We weten niet precies waar we heen gaan maar klimmen stug verder. D´r staan bordjes dus er zal wel wat te zien zijn (dat is pas logica). We blijken de Inca trail (in tegengestelde richting) te lopen.

Dit pad wordt door vele hikers gedurende enkele dagen bewandeld. Het hoogtepunt na vijf dagen wandelen is het uitzicht vanaf de Zonnepoort over de stad. En daar leiden de bordjes ons dus heen. Maar helaas voor de wandelaars, het is vandaag erg mistig, dus er is niets te zien. Weinig hoogtepunt...

Maar een klein moment later opent het wolkendek zich even. En het moet gezegd, het uizicht is werkelijk fenomenaal!!

We begroeten heel wat sjagerijnige wandelaars eer we samen met een Duits-Engels koppel, Johan en Kirstie, de zonnepoort bereiken. Oh, oh... wat zijn we lollig met zijn vieren. ´Is this the way to Machu Picchu?´, ´Machu Picchu closed today´. Ha, ha... we krijgen af en toe een lach maar zien toch ook wel veel mopperende wandelaars.

Omdat de mist weer heel dik is geworden, doden we de tijd door wat te kletsen met Johan en Kirstie. Wat een leuk stel! Hij uit Duitsland, zij uit Engeland nu beiden werkend in Nieuw Zeeland... En nu ook de boel opgezegd voor een spannende reis. Voor we het weten zijn er twee uur voorbij. En dan...trekt de hemel eindelijk open. Wauw!

Als je de stad zo tussen al die hoge bergen, met de toppen in de wolken, ziet liggen... dan snap je ineens best dat de Inca´s geloofden dat ze in deze stad dichter bij de goden waren. De ligging van de stad is prachtig. Het uitzicht is werkelijk waanzinnig!!!

In de middag gaan we Machu Picchu zelf in. We klimmen en klauteren over de stenen die hier al honderden jaren liggen. Maar eerlijk gezegd... dat is lang zo bijzonder niet. De stad is omstreeks 1550 verlaten door de Inca´s (niemand weet precies waarom). Er zijn Italiaanse steden die ouder en mooier zijn dan Machu Picchu. Als je in deze stad loopt is het gewoon een andere Inca stad. Dit is niet verwend bedoeld. Maar de gebouwen in Cuzco zijn toch van een ander staaltje Inca-vlijtigheid zullen we maar zeggen.

Echter... als je aan de rand van Machu Picchu staat en je kijkt om je heen naar de bergen... FANTASTISCH!!!

De ligging bovenop de berg met al die bergen hieromheen. Aan alle kanten de steile afgronden. Daar word je stil van!

De Spanjaarden hebben de stad tijdens de bezetting van Peru nooit weten te vinden. Pas in 1911 vond de Amerikaan Hiram Biingham na een zoektocht van jaren de stad, die door het oerwoud overwoekerd was. Peruaanse boeren stonden er vrolijk het land te bewerken!

Na een poosje hebben we genoeg oude stenen gezien. We sluiten de middag af met een lekkere luier sessie op een van de vele terrassen. Ondanks het vele gedoe, de vele toeristen en de vele zakkenvullers zijn we blij dat we Machu Picchu hebben bezocht, want het is toch wel een heel bijzondere stad.

De Malle Pietj(u)es Martens groeten u!

We will spend 3 days in Cusco getting acclimated to the altitude before the hike, four days on the trail, one day in Aguas Calientes for extra time at Machu Picchu, and one final day in Cusco. Our time in the cities will be on our own and we hired Tanit Tours to be our guide for the trek. Having a guide for the Inca Trail is required by law in Peru.

People have been asking me if this is what I consider fun for a vacation and my answer is a resounding yes! An adventure of this caliber will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Preparing for this trip has been an adventure in itself. Getting the proper gear, booking the trip, and physically training have all been parts of the preparation.

Cusco is 11,000 feet above sea level and the highest point of the trail is 14,000 feet. To prepare for the 26-mile hike we have been breaking in our hiking boots and walking. This includes using a stair climber to ready us for all of the stairs that are part of the trail. While nothing will be able to prepare us for the high altitude, extreme temperatures, and rough terrain we will experience in Peru, we are hoping this preparation will put us a step ahead before we arrive.

We raided the North Face Outlet several times already for GORE-TEX jackets, pants, and shirts. The Thorlo Outlet, one of only two in the U.S., was our supplier for hiking socks, which have turned out to be great everyday socks because they are so comfortable. A local store, Travel Country, has also been a very good resource because of their knowledgeable service and large variety of products.

Check out Andean Travel Web for more information on the Inca Trail and stay tuned for reports from the trek.

]]> http://processingimpressions.wordpress.com/?p=41 Thu, 10 Jul 2008 12:31:27 +0000 Andi http://processingimpressions.wordpress.com/?p=41 We continued our trip along lake Titicaca from Copacabana to Puno. The small town has nothing to offer but some very touristy rip-off trips to some small islands. The highlight was to enjoy the Eurocup final inside some crowded restaurant with Spanish and German fans. We moved on to the neat and very toursity town of Cuzco, where we explored the place a bit and used our time to relax before the big Salkantay trek. The best thing to see in this town is Plaza de Armas, the cathedral, as well as the restaurant "Granja Heidi". Seldomly on our trip have we enjoyed such good food!

The Salkantay trek, a five day walking tour along the Salkantay mountain in direction Aguas Calientes and Machu Picchu, was an amazing adventure. We started in a hot, well-vegetated environment and walked about 1300m further away from the sea level. Our camp was located below two glaciers at 3800m, therefore the night was freezing. The next day we had to cross a pass at around 4700m and go back down to 2900m - another very exhausting but fruitful experience. We got to see many different kinds of landscapes and could even watch Condors passing us quite frequently. Two more days of walking in the jungle, partially along rail ways, and we finally reached the highlight of the trip: the ruins of Machu Picchu. Machu Picchu is another cultural complex that cannot be described in words. It can only be experienced because all the snowy mountains, the jungle and the environment as a whole add a lot to the impression the left-overs of this ancient city make on its visitors.

In summary, Machu Picchu was another highlight (who would have guessed that? ;) of our trip and the food in Granja Heidi added a lot to our perception of the quality of living in Cuzco. One thing is for sure: Machu Picchu has to be part of every trip to South America, it is - just like Angkor Wat - a cultural highlight of the region.

We are now looking forward to pass Lima in order to spend our last week of the trip on the Galapagos Islands.

Parting words/thoughts:

1. I've gained seven pounds since coming to Peru. Ha.

2. On the Monasterio: Once an actual monastery, the place was lent to Orient Express for 60 years to be used as a hotel. In exchange, the tourism company restores the deteriorating artwork, cares for and beautifies the building, and now runs a five star hotel. Sound like corruption from the big bad West? One might wonder, though, what the priests are doing with the 10% of the proceeds, and how their houses suddenly got so big. I don't know though. I obviously got a biased perspective on the tourism from my host father, who's a big figure in the business. My natural instinct is dislike of what the businesses do (change), but I'm really nothing but a tourist. More generally, tourism has all those ugly connotations of "big bad West" vs. "innocent villager". But the way my host father put it, the "innocent villagers" sounded almost malicious. The ciudadanos always protest the presence of outside businesses, but they reap benefits from the expansion of tourism as well. Tourism is what the city lives on. Literally-- PeruRail is even Machu Picchu's free garbage service.

But I don't think it's bad here. The Monasterio was more modest than I expected (though still beautiful and definitely five star), because I've seen photos of crazy New York City five star hotels and they're just ridiculous. Relatively, Cusco is still more about the hostels and the backpackers-- after all, it is the launching point for the Camino Inca, and as long as this trail is associated with it and Machu Picchu, these tourist points are still going to be attractive for the backpacker type. What'll really be sad is if in the future Machu Picchu ends up being an oasis of Incan ruins in a mass of gondolas, skyscrapers, and hotels. But I really can't imagine that happening.

All in all, this was Cusco and Machu Picchu high-end tourist style, all packed into in a day in a half. My host father allowed us only the absolute best; I'm sure I'm not going to have another experience like it. And I do enjoy luxury, when it comes once in a while, like this time. I know I definitely couldn't do it on a regular basis, but this weekend was una locura, in a good way.

3. Machu Picchu-- beyond beautiful.

Pourquoi le Pérou ?

Sûrement beaucoup parce que :

Un peu parce que :

Mais aussi parce que :

Et bien évidemment parce que :

Et puis bon, il faut bien que mes cours du soir d'espagnol me servent à quelquechose.

Alors ça y est, je commence déjà à dévorer les blogs, parcourir les forums, feuilleter les guides de voyage, à repomper les itinéraires des TO, à rêver !

Don’t worry, my sister got out of the hospital fine. She was released after thirty hours, when they finally took her off the IV, replacing the drip with nine days of pills and a laundry list of foods to avoid. The affair was first scary, then aggravating, and luckily—finally—over.

She was released on the 23rd, and the 24th is Inti Raymi, the annual Inca festival of the sun. My sister remarked that we Americans don’t get nearly as excited for our annual holidays as the Cusqueños seemed to be for Inti Raymi, and I tried to explain the discrepancy by arguing that we have New Year’s, the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and how many religious holidays, so we split our holiday excitement over half a dozen days throughout the year. Inca-loyal Peruvians, on the other hand, have one major event. I was happy to share my expert wisdom on the differing importance and nature of public celebration across cultures. My mathematical answer showed how little either of us knew about the phenomenon occurring around us.

The music, parades, and dancing, I learned from a cab driver, last the entire week before the festival. I never learned, however, if the there are other major Inca holidays, or why Cusqueños devote a week of celebration to the sun festival. I thought Inti Raymi might fill the knowledge gaps I didn’t bother to fill myself.

We were told the festival had three parts, and we would need a guide to take us to each. We paid $35 each for the cheapest guide we were offered. Other deals went up to $150 a person for, I imagine, better food and (actually important) bleacher seats near the main event in the mountain outside Lima. We didn’t pay for the seats, so we knew we would sit on the hills with locals and other cheap tourists. But we had no idea what else to expect, not even what would be in our “boklonch.”

It was good we didn’t pay more, because, as it we did it, we only paid $70 to have no idea what was going on. After waiting over an hour in the morning for something to happen, we saw the first event: thousands parading in traditional Inca clothes, which we got to watch from the immediate sideline. The parade was, like the rest of Cusco this week, colorful and musical and fun. After a bus ride up into the mountains outside the city, we waited again, watching an empty stage from afar. The “stage” was a roped-in field about the size of a baseball infield, and we were probably a third of a mile away, tucked into the hills around the field’s small valley. In our line of sight were thousands of Peruvians. They had come equipped with food, drink, candy, and lots of running kids. We couldn’t see the stage when we sat, and public pressure was sufficient to keep us from standing. Not that it mattered, since nothing happened for hours. Then a show began. We heard spectators make noise. We saw the paraders now march down through a pass in the mountain, into the stage. And then something happened for the next two hours. Sometimes a man spoke in Quechua over the loudspeakers. At times some people danced. And mostly a lot of people stood around in costume. This was the big festival everyone was waiting for? We were clearly missing something. More likely, we were missing everything. And we no longer cared. By the late afternoon, my sister and I bet on how much longer we would be there. We left earlier than I expected, so she got to decide where we ate dinner. Neither of us was disappointed there was no third event.

The next morning we left Cusco for Machu Picchu. Aguas Calientes, the fake town set up next to Machu Picchu to accommodate tourists, is a four- to five-day hike or a four-hour train ride from Cusco. Alternatively, you can do what we did. We had only narrowly managed to buy train tickets to the site, since we were going during the busy season and hadn’t planned ahead. But the only tickets to Aguas Calientes we could get were from Ollantataymbo, a speck of a town fifty miles from Cusco. We took a poorly negotiated cab all the way and still only paid 40 soles—$13—for the hour-and-a-half ride. (I’m still trying to figure out how cab rides even cover the gas costs. Gas is as expensive in Peru as it is in the U.S. The math doesn’t seem to work.) The train went smoothly, and we got to Aguas Calientes in the afternoon.

We thought we’d visit the ruins two days in a row, seeing both sunset and sunrise there, but $40 tickets per person per day convinced us to wait a day and only enter once. We got food, used expensive and slow internet, and, with nothing else to do in town, tried to fall asleep as the sun went down, in preparation for our pre-dawn rise the next morning.

We didn’t get up early enough to see the ruins before the sun rose, but we watched the sky brighten as we were shuttled up the mountain to the site. Verbal descriptions don’t serve Machu Picchu well, so I’ll give myself a break and post a couple photos instead.

We did a short hike up Huayna Picchu, a mountain with a lookout over the ruins. Though we were spared altitude sickness our whole time in the Andes, climbing forty minutes at 11,000 feet wasn’t easy, even after a week in the mountains. The morning fog faded while we were on the hike, and the majestic mystery of the morning had melted away to brilliant sun when we returned to the ruins. We spent the rest of the morning walking around the site, then we returned to Aguas Calientes for another boring afternoon and early bedtime.

The only train we could get for the return left Aguas Calientes at 5:30, so again we got up before dawn. Catching the train was only the first challenge of the day. We had a flight back to Lima, from Cusco, at 12:50, and from Ollantaytambo again we would have to get a cab, so we needed each connection to go smoothly. Each did, and, from train to van to plane, we hit four towns and arrived without problem. That’s when transportation started to go wrong.

We got back to Lima on what I believed had to be the busiest tourist day of the year. Half a dozen hostels we visited or called had no room at all, and we finally settled on a place that gave us two bunk beds, making us share a room with others for the first time on the trip. (Previously, asking for una habitacion doble, rather than un matrimonio, gave us a way to explain we were brother and sister traveling together, starting the conversation in which we were told we spoke good Spanish; we protested, saying we didn’t; and we were asked what we liked best in Peru. “Es bonita. Nos gusta todo!” we offered. We were bad conversationalists.)

I left the hostel to pick up my extra suitcase, which I had left in the apartment where I stayed earlier. I saw my host again, met his 13-year-old son and his mom (who were visiting from Florida, where they live), and got into a cab to go back to the hostel. The driver didn’t know the place or the address, and so he had to ask several people for directions. I had flashbacks to miserable rickshaw rides in Delhi, when drivers asked dozens of fellow drivers for directions, betraying their pathetic knowledge of their (admittedly huge) city. This time, however, we were in Lima, which I had spent two weeks getting to know, so I was confident I could direct the driver decently, at least with the help of the Lonely Planet guidebook map. But he looked at the map several times and apparently learned nothing from it, since we became miserably lost. When I thought I knew were we were, as I did twice, I gave the driver emphatic directions, since I didn’t trust his judgment. Mine turned out to be just as poor. We remained very lost, and now I shared the blame. I stewed in the car as we wandered, planning the most effective way to express my discontent. (“If you need to ask tourists for directions, you should not be a taxi driver,” was as harsh as I dared to go, and as expressive as I can be in Spanish.) An hour after I got into the cab, the driver finally got close enough to the hostel that I recognized the neighborhood and realized I could walk back. The trip should have been fifteen minutes. I got out of the cab and grabbed my bag, determined to show my discontent by not paying much. We had agreed on six soles ($2) before the ride, but I realized that was no longer nearly a just fare. I figured I’d pay eight soles, fine with the fact that he would still lose money on the ride. It was his mistake, after all, not knowing the city well enough. But all I had was a twenty-sol bill, and all he handed back was a ten. I asked where the rest was, and he began to protest. Knowing that eight soles was a ridiculous fare, even if he was entirely to blame, I spun my back and walked away, foolishly lugging a rolling suitcase and walking with as much anger as I could manifest.

The hostel wasn’t much better when I got settled in. My sister and I were each in a bad mood, and though we rallied before going to dinner, we came back to an uncomfortable home. The place, Inkawasi, was a family-run business, with the family living in the house they owned. And though the house was nice and the rooms expensive, the owners never seemed to enjoy playing host. For the three days we spent there we were treated like relatives who had stayed too long: no one was rude or outright unfriendly to us, but we did not feel welcome in their home. We sucked up the poor treatment to enjoy the view of the ocean and the free wireless internet access, but our uneasiness seemed to be confirmed when I lost my new glasses somewhere in the house and no one at the hostel seemed interested in whether I recovered them. My sister left Peru on Sunday and I left the hostel on Monday.

I moved into a more central place that I hoped would be cheaper, or at least more hospitable. This hostel, one of three Flying Dog hostels around one park, where I’ve now spent four nights, is a young gringo affair, with residents who all want to party as much as I don’t want to. I’m in a room with six beds, and on my first day I met roommates from Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, and London. It’s been a mostly fine place to stay, especially since the rate includes good breakfast at a nearby café. But it's been trying. I’m fine falling asleep next in the room next to the bar, from which techno and hip hop blast until the early morning, but I don’t appreciate when other travelers leave the door open and the light on as I’m trying to sleep, as they have done repeatedly. I must be  missing part of the hostel etiquette, since that seems totally acceptable here. I’m looking forward to (miraculously) being the only own in the room tonight. (Relatedly, I've felt bad about not trying to meet people here, especially the people I would have the easiest time interacting with: other young tourists. But Europeans in South America just to party with other Europeans are not people I came here to meet. I'll hold off judgment, but theirs isn't fun worth losing sleep for.)

To avoid the din of the hostel, and to take advantage of free wireless internet, I’ve been hanging out at a local café, which I’m ashamed to admit might be owned by an American coffee shop chain with a recognizable green logo and which recently announced it's closing 600 American shops. And you know you’re spending too much time in Starbucks when you’ve heard Riders on the Storm (and every other song on Best of the Doors!) five times in three days. Thank god I had a reason to stay away today. And a great reason.

The seeds for today's fun were planted when my sister and I first arrived back in Lima. To get to our new (and soon to be disappointing) hostel, we took a cab with an especially friendly driver, who chatted us up about—what else?—being American, speaking Spanish (well, he said; not well, we said), and enjoying Peru. But the guy seemed genuine and kind, so I took a stab at something I had wanted to do since I arrived. I knew I would need a guide if I was going to see most of the city. I can walk through the rich and beautiful parts on my own, but tourist-safe parts are the distinct minority of the city, and not all that interesting. I don’t mean to say I know I will be mugged if I try to interact with normal Limeños, but I’m not comfortable walking around with camera equipment—and I’m much less comfortable actually snapping pictures—as I wander neighborhoods with fewer tourists and a much smaller police presence. So I had to get a guide. And Jose Julio Rivas Ramirez might just be the one to help me. At the end of the cab ride I told him my objective (“soy fotografo,” I exaggerated), and that I would need someone to show me around. He lit up and promised he would help with anything I needed. I took his phone number and told him I would call. Several days later I did, and yesterday we arranged to meet this morning for my first real tour of Lima.

I forgot that when we said ten o’clock we meant ten o’clock Peruvian time, so he met me shortly before eleven. And we began to drive, even before I gave him more explanation of my hopes for the day. But, when I explained, he understood perfectly that I wanted to see poor and maybe even dangerous parts of Lima while remaining safe. No problem, he told me—he’d take care of me and make sure I saw what I wanted to see. Over the next seven hours we drove through five or six of Lima’s poorest districts, and I was able to see and take pictures of what I had wanted to see since arriving. But, safe as I felt driving through the districts, a new and expected discomfort emerged. I’m very new to all this photography business, and I have not yet begun to figure out the etiquette and ethics of dropping into situations of poverty, turning people’s lives into snapshots, and leaving. It’s a subject for much more thought, but today I did what I could without feeling I was acting unethically. What that meant was largely avoiding pictures of people—because of my fellowship, my photographs need to focus on architecture, and keeping people mostly out of my shots let me avoid feeling guilty about objectifying real-life poverty that I wasn’t even getting out of the car to experience. Nonetheless, after looking at them briefly, I’m very happy with the photos. Shacks on mountainsides speak for themselves. Even so, was it right to drift through such sights in a car, thinking primarily about the shots I could get out a window? Maybe I’ll get my answer another day.

(It's worth writing a little more about Jose Rivas, since, even though the photos won't show it, he was the central element of my experience today. I never got his age, but I'd guess he's in his late 20s or early 30s. He has a three-year-old son, and I was able to see physical evidence that his wife is expecting another baby, a daughter, in September. His home, where he took me in the afternoon, is small and very simple, but pretty and clean. He showed me several empty rooms, which he told me repeatedly I could stay in whenever I wanted. Nevermind that there isn't a bed--we could buy one cheaply nearby, he assured. When I raised the issue of payment in the morning, he told me we would work something out, and he primarily wanted me to have a good time and to make a friend in him, and to know a Peruvian I could trust. Throughout the day he returned to that theme. He told me he would introduce me as his padrino--godfather--to friends of his, and when I met his landlady he did introduce me as his familia. He told me about another American named Marcus who had been his padrino before, calling occasionally and sending gifts each year. I didn't know how emphatically he was pushing this arrangement on me, but he wasn't floating the idea idly. I was thrilled at how well we conversed in Spanish [he spoke no English, and joked by saying things like, "Gude marning"], but I conveniently hid behind the language barrier when he talked about me becoming part of the family, nodding and smiling without responding in words. Nevertheless, he was truly generous to me, showing me much of his life, from his family and home to his favorite restaurant, where we ate the best meal I've had in Peru. I paid him what I believe was a fair amount for his work, and at the least I gave him a day of conversation with an American instead of a day hustling for small fares. I hope that, even when he realizes I will not be his padrino, he is as glad for the experience as I am.)

Now I’m looking ahead. I’ve hit the halfway mark of my trip, and the next month should be great. Though I might not have time for it all, I’m hoping to travel up north with a distant cousin who was in the Peace Corps in Peru; visit friends in Ayacucho, in the southern highlands; go back to Cusco for a fuller and more true experience now that Inti Raymi is over; get back down to Pisco to spend more time photographing and reporting on the earthquake damage; and spend more time in Lima, enough to have more days like today and even a few like yesterday (internet, reading, relaxing). I have to be back in Lima in the middle of the month to make a couple appointments I’ve made, and I’m hoping to schedule several more with government officials and other big shots to work on a story I’d like to write. I won’t hit every goal, but even falling quite short will give me a month of experiences that together may be more exciting than any I’ve had in my life. And such excitement will go a long way to ease the one concern that has lingered with me this far into the trip.

I’ve gotten over feeling bad I don’t know more Spanish, and that I won’t be fluent when I return. I’ve had fun and varied experiences, as I was bound to do once I got out of Lima. Now I’ve made significant progress toward the photo work I had wanted to do here, and even the fellowship work I was afraid I might fail to complete satisfactorily. And, though I don’t yet have a great article written, I have a couple good ideas for articles I should be able to complete. But I haven’t yet hit a rhythm in which every day provides a new experience even better than that of the day before.

School life is unrelentingly exciting, even as it is repetitive. Through the most familiar weekly schedule, unexpected turns appear most days. With thousands of smart and energetic young people together, that’s bound to happen. And that’s what should happen when you go abroad for two months, right? Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought about what it would mean for my “professional” aspirations to head off on my own, without plans or contacts. Since the best experiences are rarely had alone, I’ve felt I’m missing opportunities by not having collaborators, superiors, or friends here. I’ve still (and still surprisingly) been spared any significant loneliness, but I do feel I’ve been in a “professional” rut, as I’ve struggled to find ways to do the work I’ve wanted to do. I have story ideas, but no way to find sources. Until today I had lots I wanted to see in Lima and no sure way to see any of it. And even today’s experience was thanks to the luck of getting in the right taxi several days ago. How do I find the next taxi driver to be my guide next time, or the person who will lead me to a great story I haven’t heard about? It probably won’t happen, and I have to resign myself to that frustration. I’m coming to accept that not every day here will be filled with great excitement. But just by looking through the photos I’ve already taken I can see I’ve had more than a month’s worth of fun and rewarding experiences. If, as I expect, July is better than June was, I have nothing to worry about.

Mas o país de Machu Picchu também tem maravilhas gastronômicas menos mórbidas (pode parecer hipócrita, mas fico com dó do porquinho). Plantam dezenas de tipos de milho, fazem um pimentão recheado (rocoto relleno) delicioso, e tem como tradição a ceviche, preparação que amo-de-paixão, popular nos países latinos. Sempre que viajo minha mãe fala: “Não come ceviche”. Isso porque é o tipo de comida candidata a te dar dor de barriga (frutos do mar crus, pimentas e temperos desconhecidos, procedência duvidosa...). Mas eu sempre como. E nunca passo mal.

Faz quase um ano que voltei do Peru. E como bateu saudade, ataquei de jeito uma ceviche. Já tinham me recomendado a do Exquisito, e de fato ela não decepcionou: tiras de pescada branca ao limão com cebola roxa e pedaços de pimenta malagueta, acompanhado de batata doce cozida. Dizem que é ideal para três, mas eu e Camis demos conta fácil, fácil (R$ 25). O garçom ainda se certificou, sem saber que a gente é escolada de ceviche: “vocês sabem que o peixe é cru, né?”.

O Exquisito é um bar de jeito latino e o cardápio é recheado de gostosuras como chilli (R$ 35), lomo saltado (R$ 29) e saltenha boliviana (R$ 6 cada). O chopp é Brahma, mas sugiro também as cervejas gringas, como Erdinger (R$ 14), Nortenha (R$ 15,00) e Dos Equis (a-do-ro essa mexicana, por R$ 6 em long neck). As caipirinhas e drinks clássicos ganharam adaptações, como o Mojito de maracujá e a capirinha de morango com pimenta (foto abaixo). Vale destacar também a decoração do salão, com paredes cobertas com espelhos de camelô (aqueles com moldura de plástico laranja) lambe-lambe.

Tá tremido porque estava escuro. Eu não bebi demais...

Exquisito
R. Bela Cintra, 532
Consolação – São Paulo
(11) 3151-4530
www.exquisito.com.br