So, the Peruvian trek is coming to an end. Tonight I fly to Brazil. The time here was short but it was fantastic. I´ve had amazing adventures visiting all manner of wonderful places.
The Ayahuasca (see the entry below) really helped to show me how I can help myself and I decided that this should apply to the travels straight away. I had 6 days to see as much of Peru as possible and had been recommended so many places. I had to get my skates on. The night I got back from the retreat I was tired but happy. I wandered around Cuzco in a daze, finding a hostel and getting dinner. At around 9pm it struck me that I hadn´t sorted out the next day. I wanted to get a bus to Puno, a town around 200km to the south of Cuzco. It was Sunday night. It was raining. Everything was closing. I looked around and all the travel agents were closed... except one. The guy was just closing as I turned up but was more than happy to sort a bus for me. He would even pick me up from my hostel the next morning. Its funny I can never work out if people are just being friendly or making a fair buck out of me. Well, it matters not. The bus was still cheap enough, even on elastic Peruvian prices.
Cuzco plaza, Wet...
The River in the Sacred Valley. Rather high.
The bus was one of these tourist numbers that stops many places en route. We saw ruins and churches, alpacas and markets. The journey was punctuated by our tour operator putting in a 'yes' and 'mmm' after every sentence. After the hundredth time you really can't help but enjoy it. He reminded me of Manuel from Faulty Towers, perhaps a little more organised. We spoke about spirituality at one point and I mentioned I wanted to visit Lake Titicaca the next day. The Island he recommended Isla Amantani was apparently beautiful and very spiritual, so I decided that I would visit it. Hours later and off of the tour bus I got in a taxi and was i immediately offered a boat ride to the very same island. Fantastic, I love it when a plan comes together. I booked on.
A sheep
A flower... (:
An Alpaca (different to a Llama)
The following morning I was picked up and taken to the boat. Lake Titicaca is the largest lake in South America, it is also one of the highest lakes in the world at around 3500m above sea level. It is 60 percent Peruvian and 40 percent Bolivian (as the Peruvians loved to remind us every opportunity they had).
We were on the lake by 8am and off the Islas Flotantes en route to our destination. The Floating Islands are a unique collection of... well... floating islands. Although shockingly commercial, they offer an incredible insight to what can be done with ingenuity. The foundation of the islands is mud blocks. Cut into segments and held together by rope made from reeds. Growing in the mud is the same reeds that binds it with their roots. The upper layer is cut reeds layered in crisscross patterns, replaced every week as they rot. On this is the huts, made from the same reeds and wood. When they replace the floor of reeds they literally lift the houses and move them. Then lash them down again with rope made form these reeds. A lot of reeds. Ingenious.
We moved on to our designated island and met the family that we would be staying with that night. They only spoke Quelcha. The ancient language of the Incas. Even my poor Spanish would not help me here. Hand gestures were the call of the day. However I soon realised that I had been lied to and their Spanish was as good as mine, if not better. I could be understood with my masterful grasp of hello, please, thank you, yes and no. My Spanish is impeccable with these mighty words.
Our house was really cute. Surrounded by small plots of corn and herbs, built on a terrace around 100m above the lake. Sheep, chickens and a donkey helped to add to this organic good life paradise. The view was spectacular and peaceful.
Once a year the 4000 inhabitants of this island celebrate the Virgen De Catelina holiday. We just happened to be there on this one day. Walking to the main Plaza we were greeted with a cacophony of noise, dancing, sweat, booze and fun. On each side of the square was a band. Many brass, woodwind and percussion instruments made up each group of around 30 people. Each had great rhythms, melodies and textures. The only thing was was that all four bands were only 50m to 100m from each other so the plethora of noise was... well a bit of a mess. But it didn´t matter. Not one bit. Everyone was having such a good time. Crates of beer stacked higher than me adorned available spaces around the square, and where the beer was not, drunk Peruvians were. This was at around 2pm.
We walked up the hill in the middle of the island, returning at around 5pm. By now the fiesta had reached critical mass. Or so it appeared. The clock tower had musicians on its outside ledge, playing their instruments wildy and drunkenly, only one step from falling 30ft. The dancers were falling over. Groups of men stood around chatting, using their god given right to piss where ever and when ever they please. They would simply get out the old chap right there whilst talking to their group of peers in the plaza and go. They did have the decency to cup around a little. Small children ran between the legs of their drunken elders playing all sorts of fun, unimaginable games. It was very special to be part of this amazing fiesta. I was and still am very thankful to have been part of it. Even as a Gringo.
Lake Titicaca
The Floating Islands
Our house for the night.
Those mad Peruvians!
The return journey the following day I made a friend in Andreas, the Uraguayan I mentioned in my previous post. He was so inspiring and open hearted and we chatted for hours on the roof of the boat in the sunshine. I hope to know him and people with his capacity for love for a long time.
Arriving back in Puno I arrived at the bus stop with 2 minutes to spare for my 6 hour bus North to Arequipa. The second largest city in Peru, Arequipa is known as the white city as many of the buildings are made from white volcanic rock. It is stunning and by quite some distance the most beautiful city Ive seen in Peru. I did the touristy bus ride for 4 hours and saw much of the city. Then I went to the Convent de Catelina. This convent was built in the 16th Century by a Spanish Aristocrat for wealthy Spanish girls to become nuns here. It covers a whole block and is kind of like a citadel within a city. For 300 years the wealthy Spanish nuns kept their debauturous ways whilst here, until around 200 years ago it was stopped by a strict mother superior who saw to it that it became a silent convent. In 1979 it opened its doors to the public. I´m thankful they have. It is simply beautiful. The terracotta walls of the streets add a warmth to the many simple cells scattered around. Each cell has its own private clay kitchen with oven. many stairs lead hear there and everywhere and remind me of Escher's famous ´Impossible Stairs´. A huge dining room turned art gallery complemented the thousands of wall sketches and paintings lining almost every available indoor upper wall. Vines, flowers and gnarly ancient trees added dynamic and life whilst pottery and delicately placed utensils and working materials added history and extra culture. I was walking meditatively around, but it took me a good hour and I still hadn't seen everything. One day I wish to build my own eco house. This place really inspired me as to how I would like to to look and feel.
This is the beautiful Citadel, Convent De Catalina
The Colca canyon is the second deepest in the world at getting on for 4000m. Only rivaled by Cotahuasi canyon 4 days hike away that is a massive 163m deeper. I didn´t have time for the hike so this was the fruit of today. We left at 2:50am. Wow. The drive was 4 hours. The sunrise was spectacular. The canyon was better. Amongst the many wildlife living in the canyon is the Condor. Many people wait for a long time to see one there. We were blessed to see 3 together within 10 minutes. They are a magnificent bird. Soaring and swooping with no apparent effort as they glide and ride the wind masterfully.
On the return we stopped at a thermal springs to have a dip. There were 5 pools there. At 38 degrees they were lovely to sit and meditate in. However we had 45 minutes (damn these organised tours) so i wanted to try every pool. The first pool was empty. Nice, nice. the second pool had only Peruvians in. As I approached I could see their heads turning to look at me. Their conversation began to stop. I got in the pool and most of the 20 to 30 Peruvians were looking at me. I half expected someone to say "This is a local pool for local people". I lasted about 2 minutes before moving on. Strange how I thought that perhaps it was because I was the only one with hair on my chest...
I left Arequipa tired but satisfied on my 15 hours VIP first ever first class ticketed bus journey to Lima (the first class upgrade was a wholesome 5 pounds). This was when my body decided to get travellers bug. Literally, oh shit. On this bus you are only allowed to urinate. To go number 2 you have request a stop. I had to request within 1 hour. The pressure of 50 people and a bus waiting for you, coupled with the mangy, dirty toilet and the 9 inches of toilet roll you have been given really adds pressure to a man´s time alone with his bowels. I somehow managed another 8 hours before requesting a stop, a feverish, colon tightening half sleeping time where I was afraid to move suddenly. The next stop all my pride had gone. I was going to take my time. 10 minutes later they asked if I would hurry as the bus was now late. I arrived without a further hitch.
I spent the last couple of days in Lima with Vivi, a lovely Lady from Argentina I met in Cuzco. We have seen the sights and I have had my wonderful BRATTY diet. (Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, Toast, Tea, yogurt.) I have drunk enough green tea to sink the titanic, but the re hydrating properties have worked.
This morning Vivi left for Argentina and I had 12 hours until my flight to Brazil. I was walking down the street when a short slightly elderly looking Peruvian guy walks up to me. ¨Hello, you from England?¨ He says immediately. Mmmm my trying to blend in obviously isn´t working. ¨Yes¨I reply. In the ensuing conversation, mostly him talking, he leads me to his art gallery telling me about the vegetarian restaurant nearby. He joins me for lunch, telling me he will have a beer. Oh really? Okay, well he was good company, I think. he talked so fast and changed subject so quickly that it was hard to keep track of. His eyes should have given it away. He got onto the subject of drugs. He told me how he had been to his friends party the night before and had been up all night on cocaine. Ahhh.... light dawned. The nervous yet boisterous, overly confident attitude was clearly obvious now. I got it. He did make me laugh though. He is 68 but years of drugs have taken their toll. He told me how he and the waitress used to be a item. "I used to fuck her" in a Tony ¨Scarface¨ Montana accent is not a sentence one usually hears from a cocaine fulled 68 year old percussion playing painter. I liked this guy. I´m going to commission some paintings from him. He will send them to me. I wonder if I´ll get them... I wonder if they will get through customs...
So here my Peruvian jaunt ends for this time. I really have fallen for this country. She is wonderful, dramatic, diverse and welcoming. There is so much I am yet to see. I shall certainly return in years to come. But no hurry. No worry. I shall meet Pacha Mamma here again. In this life or the next. Of that I am sure.
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