Arequipa After multiple logistics disasters that left us stranded in Florida and cost us our day to explore Lima, we were so happy to arrive in Arequipa, Peru’s second-largest city, with 1.2 million inhabitants (Lima has 10 million). We flew over a mountainous desert as the sun was rising, and then suddenly over a flat and thickly settled area on the outskirts of the city, and then into the super-compact airport, where the baggage terminal was only about two minutes from the arrival gate. Stepping outside, we gazed with wonder at the two magnificent volcanoes that appeared to almost touch the runway, under a crystal-blue sky. Misti is shaped like Mount Fuji, an almost perfect cone. The other, Chachani, is more jagged, really a whole range. Both were snow-capped eye candy, and both tower over the town, at 18,000 and 20,000 feet (according to our driver). Going through Latin America for Less/Peru for Less, we’ve arranged an itinerary that leaves us mostly on our own, but the agency handles the travel connections and hotel bookings. At the airport, we were met by both a guide, Alex, and a driver, Walter. Alex gave us several suggestions for what to see and do, and we took his advice except that we only did one of the two museums he suggested. We’ve been booked into Casa De las Abuelas (Grandmas’ House), an elegant, sprawling complex with lush gardens, attractive rooms, a delicious breakfast buffet, and helpful staff. It’s centrally located (four blocks from the main square, Plaza de las Armas), yet very quiet. On our own, we would have been in something more modest, but this is a treat. Checking in around 7:30, we were in time for that breakfast, and then off to explore the town. We found lovely colonial and post-colonial buildings, some painted bright blues and yellows, plenty of alpaca shops, travel agencies, and restaurants, and a friendly attitude. We also found incredibly beautiful alpaca designs, displayed with great merchandising artistry, at Nuevo Mundo on Santa Catalina Street; prices were low and the owner was quite friendly. We followed that street to the Monasterio, a convent built originally in 1540 and now one of this city’s major attractions. At first it seems a bit overpriced at 40 soles (roughly $12), until we realize that it goes for many blocks, contains hundreds of works of art including a deep collection of large works from 17th-century painters in the Cusco School, numerous frescoes, as well as historical exhibits. We spent a good couple of hours there and kept finding new parts to explore. This is one of many ancient Catholic institutions downtown, including the main cathedral and a baroque Jesuit church among others. The hotel also offered very reasonably priced massages, and we both indulged before going to dinner at Chicha, a farm-to-table restaurant housed in an 18th-century mansion, almost directly across Santa Catalina Street from the convent. We learned online that this restaurant is a pet project of Gaston Acurio, a renowned Peruvian chef. The cuisine is based on local artisanal foods and includes some traditional dishes as well as modern reinterpretations using traditional ingredients (curried alpaca, for instance). The menu looked really interesting, it got great reviews online, and the restaurant itself was elegantly spacious, with what must have been a 20-foot ceiling. Service was prompt and courteous, and Christian, our waiter, really took us under his wing once we told him we were vegetarian. Chicha offers very few vegetarian choices, and several that appeared to be vegetarian turned out to have some kind of meat. Luckily, we told him up front and didn’t make any assumptions. But he worked with us and with the kitchen staff, and we were extremely pleased. All four items we ordered, as well as the small but unique bread basket (anise bread made with quinoa flour, purple corn rolls, and mini-breadsticks) were both elegant and delicious, and the two food items both came in substantial portions that were easy to share. We split a pair of sublimely flavored pumpkin tamales (normally one pumpkin, one meat) and a salad of fresh greens, fried cheese that tasted like shiitake mushrooms (way better than the fried cheese we’d had in the rural Czech Republic years ago), lightly candied almonds, and two ingredients I’d never tried before: fresh, crunchy young raw fava beans and preserved papaya arequepeña, totally different from either the usual orange papaya or the tangy green version common across Southeast Asia. This was lemony, sweet-and-sour, and totally amazing. While a splurge for Arequipa, the bill was quite modest considering it was one of the most memorable restaurant meals I’ve had ever. Even ordering nonalcoholic drinks (a pomegranate-pineapple-burgundy grape concoction for Dina and a bitter hot chocolate for me (sweet ones were normally offered, but I requested bitter; I eat cocoa beans plain), and even factoring in combined taxes of 27%—the bill was only USD $28 including tax but not tip. We thought it was money extremely well-spent. Colca Canyon: Coperaque Three hours of scenic twisty roads took us deep into the Andes and up around to the other sides of those volcanoes, reaching our maximum height on this trip: 4910 meters (16,108 feet)—about 3000 feet higher than I’d ever been before. I’ve been known to have altitude trouble starting as low as 8200 feet, so I took lots of precautions: Diamox, coca leaves, a cup of “triple tea” made with coca, muñil (a local mint that looked and tasted like a cousin of thyme), and peppermint, drinking lots of water, coca hard candies. I even had blood pressure medication with me but felt no need to use it. I did feel a little bit of dizziness and lethargy, but came through with flying colors and even did a short hike from our 11,500-foot hotel to a lookout hut about 300 feet higher with no issues. This is a farm area, with irrigated terraces on the sides of the mountains. Crops include barley, quinoa and its smaller cousin cañihua, many varieties of potatoes; farm animals include llamas, alpacas, burros, and pigs. En route, we passed through a large swath of vicuña habitat. They’re smaller, about the size of young deer, and are a beautiful cinnamon color with white markings, and they gather at pools to drink. I found them really cute. We also got to see several eagles fly above us. The area is also quite volcanic. Our guide told us that the Arequipa region alone has over 190 volcanoes, several of which are considered active. We saw at least three different ones putting out copious amounts of smoke and steam. And to finish the day, a five-minute drive to the local hot spring, Omaro Thermal Waters: Upper and lower man-made pools fed by sulphur springs at 39˚ Celsius. I found it relaxing, though I felt quite fatigued after we returned to the hotel. I prefer springs in a more natural environment, but when someone offers me a chance at a hot spring, I almost always say yes. Although there isn’t that much to say about it, it was a really full day, and very enjoyable. The slight physical discomforts were well worth it. The next day, we went back to the hut and were pleasantly shocked to discover that unlike our hotel (Mamayacchi), which has neither wi-fi nor cellular service, this lookout hut had cell service! It was really funny to scan our email on our phones from halfway up a mountain in the middle of nowhere. But this time, we kept going. We walked along the canyon rim (not Colca Canyon, which is still some distance away, but, the local canyon in the Colca Valley) for about 40 minutes, with slight increases in elevation before turning around steeply. Just before we got back to the hut, we turned off at a boulder, where an arrow and hand-painted “museo” (museum) pointed off the main trail. We could see the museum, about 80 feet above us: a rustic and tumbledown log building of no great size. The other two in our party are faster hikers than I am, and called down to me when I was halfway up not to bother; the building was padlocked. From there, we continued around the corner to another path leading to the Inca cemetery. This trail ascended steeply, and we were already at around 12,000 feet. The highest I’ve ever taken a hike, and one of the highest places I’ve ever been. Almost immediately, I started having altitude issues, and began stopping about every two paces to rest. After a few minutes of this, I abandoned my quest and turned around; the other two made it to the cemetery and took pictures of themselves surrounded by human skulls. Then I missed the turn going back down toward the hotel and continued along a path that stayed high, and wonderfully flat. It turned out to be on a bird flyway, and I got to see a great number of birds. I recognized goldfinches, several types of hummingbirds, and the local eagle, which looks more like a hawk to me. And there must have been a few dozen I didn’t recognize. This spot turned out to be one of the most tranquil and enchanting places I’ve ever been, with marvelous views of the high mountains and terraced farm fields. When I saw a landmark, the creek where I needed to turn, several hundred feet below me instead of right next to me, I retraced my steps back to the eucalyptus grove where the main trail veered off sharply, very grateful for the trail’s flatness. After some rest, my friend and I explored the village of Coperaque, where the hotel is located. Not a lot there, but the village square only a two-block walk from the Mamayacchi, was very pleasant, especially at siesta time when it was almost deserted. It had a church from the 1890s, a Town Hall, and some pleasant treelined paths and benches. Like many parts in Latin America, the tree bases are whitewashed. Other than the main square, most of the streets were pretty similar, varying primarily in whether they were paved, which mountains they faced, and which farm animals were in the yard. Pretty much everyone we saw greeted us, and several people struck up a conversation. Not feeling like we had explored enough, we asked our innkeeper about going to the next real town, Chivay. It turned out we could walk back to the plaza and catch a collectivo (group taxi van) there for just 1 sol and 20 centimes (about 45 cents) and the trip only took ten minutes. We found quaint architecture, lots of public art including a pedestrian street lined with colorful modern statues of various local historical heroes and heroines, and a lot of cool artisan stores in and around the central market, and bought several inexpensive and warm alpaca or alpaca mix items. The next morning, we had to get up early to catch a van to Colca Canyon itself and then on to Puno, on Lake Titicaca. Colca calls itself the deepest canyon in the world and is also a major condor habitat (dominating skies shared by a wide range of avian life from falcons down to hummingbirds. According to our guide, “Colca” (occasionally spelled Colqa) means warehouse in Quechua. This used to be a mix of Quechua and Aymara cultures, but the Aymaras moved eastward quite some time ago. Spanish is much more recent, because the roads and railroads reached a culture that had been extremely isolated. The condors are amazing. As we shuffled a short distance (probably under a mile) along the rim—in high altitude, you want to go VERY slowly—we saw dozens: some in flocks, some in couples, some flying solo. And the canyon itself is quite pretty, although we were nowhere near the deepest parts. Where we were, the distance from the rim to the base was several hundred meters, and about 1000 meters from the tops of the mountains around us. At the deepest part, it’s more than 4000 meters (13,000 feet or so). Unfortunately, Colca was in the wrong direction, and we had to return almost back to Chivay before turning toward Puno: five more hours of driving, most of which I slept through. Puno/Titicaca Area Although far smaller in population, Puno feels much more urban than Arequipa, and more like a typical Latin American city, too. We stayed in a spacious suite in the Plaza Mayor, a charming older hotel just off the main tourist street (a pedestrian-only thoroughfare featuring numerous pizza restaurants and cafes), one block from the main square, and about three blocks from an even more lovely square. And our rooms have plenty of electrical outlets, Internet most of the time, great hot water, and an electric space heater. The staff is friendly and can book tours for much less than the travel agency price on the pedestrian street. They will even take laundry, deliver it to a local laundromat, and pick it up again with a morning-to-evening turnaround. We spent our first day in Puno on Lake Titicaca, on a boat tour with a small group of very simpatico people (random luck); we even exchanged contact information with several of them. The excursion was a clear standout even on a trip so filled with highlights, combining a relatively deep dive (for this kind of tour) into the local cultures with stunning scenic beauty. Our guide, who was from one of the Quechua-speaking islands, was full of interesting stories and explanations and happy to answer any of our questions. The boat pilot was from one of the Aymara-speaking islands, so they communicated in Spanish. About 15,000 people live in the Titicaca islands, spanning both sides of the Peru-Bolivia border. Some of the islands are natural, but more than 100 are man-made “floating islands,” a tradition going back even before the arrival of the Incas around 1450. They’re built with reeds, as are the houses, the beautiful boats (some now assisted by trailers with outboard motors), much of their diet, and some of the craft items. The islands start at a thickness of about two meters but keep getting new layers in a cross-hatch pattern for strength, eventually reaching nine meters (about 30 feet) or more. But eventually the reeds (and the ropes that hold them together) begin to disintegrate and the island starts to sink. If the ropes are nylon rather than reed, as is common now, villagers collect the old ropes from the sinking island before abandoning it, so the process has zero environmental impact (although of course any boat powered by an outboard motor does have an impact). All plastic and metal trash is also collected and recycled on the mainland. Some of these islands are quite huge, and include a few buildings made of metal and concrete (typically schools). Many of the islands are populated by a single extended family. It’s common for families to have several children, and each time a child marries, the groom’s parents donate a bit of their land to the new couple. This is after a trial marriage that may last several years, and after the groom passes several tests, including knitting a long-tailed, colorful cap so tightly that it can hold water to the brim for several hours with no leakage. These hats indicate social status: a man gets a red hat (as well as a belt made from his wife’s hair) when he marries. If he has a rainbow hat, he has served a one-year, non-renewable term as village president. If that rainbow hat is topped by a bowler, he is the current president and represents his island at the community council. Weddings are a surprisingly somber affair, with elaborate protocols and frowning faces. The bride and groom have to keep their hands crossing their sides and are not allowed to even feed themselves during the ceremony, let alone touch their new spouse; they get fed by their godparents. On different islands, the ceremony lasts different lengths: our guide’s island had a three-day ceremony, while on the island immediately adjacent, it’s seven days. Perhaps because of the trial marriage system, divorce is rare. Of course, Catholicism may also have something to do with that. We visited three islands. At, Uros, the first, we were greeted by a women’s chorus singing welcomes. This island is now heavily dependent on tourism and many community members take time off from their chores to interact with a steady stream of visitors. First, we met with Alfredo, the village president, who demonstrated the reed layering and showed us which parts he liked to eat. He showed us tiny models of the island, the buildings, and the boat, and showed small versions of both the traditional wooden island anchors and the newer metal ones. He also showed us the huge handsaw used to break islands into pieces; if you can’t stand your neighbors, you simply saw off your piece and have it towed to a new location! It took me several minutes to realize he was speaking Spanish; his accent was so different I thought at first he was speaking Aymara. After a while, I “cracked the code” and was able to follow him pretty easily. Then we broke into pairs and each followed one of the women, who had been off to the side making tapestries and keeping half an eye on whatever children were nearby. We followed Sonia to her house, a one-bedroom reed hut with a radio and TV. The buildings all had small photovoltaic solar panels to power these devices—the first solar electricity I’ve seen in this very sunny country. Various kids were playing at our feet: two of her own kids, some nieces and nephews, and her much younger sister. Then we went back outside to a popup craft market, where each woman spread her wares. All of them had pretty much the same patterns (our traveling companion bought the same tapestry we did, but from a different artisan)—which were stunning, and very reasonably priced. As we boarded the magnificent puma-headed brightly colored reed boats for the short ride to the capital island, the señoras once again gathered at the dock to sing and clap time on folksongs in both Quechua and Aymara. I recognized the tune of the Aymara number; it’s on several of my Andean CDs. Ours was hand-poled, and the ride was pleasant. The stop at the capital was pretty silly, but it did offer toilets and a place to get your passport stamped from the Peruvian Floating Islands. We hadn’t brought our passports (on a boat ride?) but a lot of other people had theirs. Then back on the motor boat for the long cruise to Taquila, a natural island some distance out. I enjoyed being up on the roof until we passed through the channel between two peninsulas (Quechua-speaking on the left, Aymara-speaking on the right) that marked the end of Puno Bay. Once we were in the open lake water, it was choppy and windy so I went back inside. The lake is vast. In fact, it’s the second-largest in South America. It’s also considered the highest navigable lake in the world. A steamship was dragged to the lake (in many sections) by llama in the 1860s, and it still sails today. Taquila has several possible approaches and our guide gave us a quick overview of the options. The majority of our group voted for a quick steep climb followed by a long gradual descent, because they were hungry and this was the lunch stop. I’d voted to go up gradually, since climbing at altitude is very challenging for me, which meant the group had to wait for me frequently as I did the trail at a pace that would not get me sick. Also, I was having trouble getting water out of my hydration backpack until I realized that I just didn’t have enough lung power at that altitude. So every time I needed a drink I had to remove the backpack, hold it high, and let gravity give me some help. Most of the group had a trout lunch at a restaurant in the main plaza (at the top). We went next door to a tienda and bought delicious bananas for one sol apiece that were so filling I had to eat mine in two halves about 30 minutes apart. While admiring the beautiful lake 1000 feet below (my guess) and amusing ourselves over the sign post that listed distances to places as far flung as Jerusalem, we got lucky. The church door opened and out marched a somber procession: the elected officials (not just the presidents) of many islands in their best clothes, followed by their wives in dark shawls, across the plaza to the Town Hall where they were going to have a post-wedding lunch. Caution: if you do this trip, bring your own toilet paper. The one sol toilet charge (fairly standard in public bathrooms here) gets you exactly three squares of TP and a toilet with no seat and no running water (you flush with a pail). What our guide hadn’t told us before we voted was that this choice gave us a magnificent cliff walk that outshines even Newport, Rhode Island’s. The water was a magnificent shade of blue, the houses on the island side had beautiful gardens (with flora that looked a lot like Newport Beach, California), and on the water side, we had great views of the Bolivian Andes. Then as we approached the boat dock, we passed under an arch and all of a sudden it felt like Kauai, Hawaii—a magnificent, magical moment with a long glimpse into nature’s jewel box. The two and a half hours back to Puno passed quickly, as several of us got into an animated discussion about how to solve the world’s problems. In the evening, we selected a high-end Italian restaurant called Giorgio’s which enticed us in with complimentary pisco sours (we’d been wanting to try them). They also included a hot beverage at the end. Dina and I shared a red and white beet appetizer with cheese cubes and orange slices and a mushroom risotto main course that they made from scratch for us in a vegetarian broth. The cost? Only 58 soles (about $20 US) before tip. Our friend got a chicken dish. Everything was attractively plated and the two items we tasted were scrumptious. We also searched out possibilities for an activity the following day, and that led us to discover a bit of Puno’s alternative culture. One travel agent, a portly, conservative-looking man in his 50s or 60s, told us about a place an hour away that was great for recharging crystals and sending energy to the seven chakras. And a restaurant tout of about the same age turned out to be a yoga instructor. You can’t tell about people by looking! Both main activities the next day exceeded our expectations, a lot. We started the morning by walking the mile from our hotel to the waterfront, and there, we were amazed to discover a rich, marshy wildlife habitat, beautiful to look at and filled with birds, including a heron. Some sheep were even grazing there! Our only issue was the overwhelming pollution from vehicle exhaust. Between that and the uphill climb back from the waterfront, we jammed into the back of a moto (like a tuk-tuk but with an enclosed cabin) and paid a princely 3 soles (about a dollar, USD) to ride back. Then we walked six blocks to a supermarket, looking to pick up items for a picnic lunch. This particular supermarket was more like a Target: a huge department store with a supermarket in one corner. And it was deeply disappointing. The cheeses, breads, and produce all looked terrible. After 15 or 20 minutes, the only thing we could find that we wanted to eat was a single plain yogurt (the only one in the whole yogurt section without added sugar, stabilizers, or other junk). I asked if there were more and was told that brand was discontinued. So we put the yogurt back and headed out the door. Going a different route on our way back, I spotted the central market. Within five minutes, we’d purchased two bananas, one perfectly ripe avocado, and two quinoa rolls, for a total cost of 4.9 soles (well under $2 USD). Plenty to feed two people. Then we took a van tour to Sillustani, a pre-Inca (Qulla) and Inca cemetery on a hilltop about half an hour from town. It looked moderately interesting from the pictures, and from what we discovered online. Once again, we were really glad of this. There were the tombs, of course. The pre-Inca versions looked kind of like wood-fired pizza ovens, round and just a few feet high. The Inca tombs were much taller, some of them as much as 12 meters (about 40 feet), and clad in curved stone siding. Some of them had as many as 36 bodies when they were exhumed. All the bodies have been removed, and some of the tombs were left unfinished when the Spanish arrived and the Incas fled. But there was also the setting: on a peninsula that divided a marshy lake (not Titicaca but Umayo). And the string of cafes, including one selling the famous coati (civet cat)-poop coffee, which I’ve been hearing about for several years and never expected to taste, since it costs up to $1000 per pound in the US. The coati is native to the jungle parts of Peru (60 percent of the country, but nowhere we went except Machu Picchu). We had a cappuccino for 16 soles (a bit over $5). Frankly, I wasn’t all that impressed. It was bitter and didn’t taste like much, in my opinion. I might have done better with having one from local organic coffee at just 6 soles—but now I can say I’ve tried it. And there was the unannounced stop to meet a family of alpaca and llama farmers who let us pose with their animals and shared several foods, including a clay that’s mixed with water. People dip boiled potatoes into this mixture, and it’s supposed to be great for people with ulcers or stomach trouble. They also had artisan cheese, which I liked enough to buy, and some fritters (quinoa, I think). They also sold beautiful alpaca goods, demonstrating how to make flower from quinoa and dried potatoes (two different styles of grinding, one of which used a circular motion). The next day was a travel day all the way to Cusco. Rather than the regular intercity bus, we chose one of several companies offering a longer—ten hours, versus six— but far more interesting day with stops at points of interest along the way. Our travel company, Peru For Less, booked us on WonderPeru, which offered luxury coaches including a beverage hostess and a bilingual tour guide (but not wi-fi): http://www.wonderperuexpedition.com/en/bus-turistico-puno-cusco.php. As of May, 2018, it costs $61 USD to book on your own. The first stop was the pre-Inca ruins and museum at Pucara. The ruins once held three temples at different levels, with an elaborate system of tunnels to pass among them (one of which is functional and open to the public. Now, what’s left is mostly foundation stones and room demarcations, made of the local red rock—and a great view overlooking the town. The museum, across the highway, has a particularly nice collection of ancient sculptures, and the neighboring church is very cute. Next, a very quick photo stop at an overlook marking the boundary between the Puno and Cusco districts (and also the highest altitude of the day, 4335 meters), then a lunch stop, and then a much more extensive archeological site at Raqchi, an Inca palace complex. While I hadn’t heard of this site before, it’s a must-see for any traveler passing between these two cities (and really too far to make a day trip from either one). Large chunks of the main temple walls remain, built in a trapezoidal style, wider at the bottom than the top, which made for very interesting window shapes; one even resembled a man and a woman kissing. One granary has been restored, and about a dozen others stand roofless. Homes and other buildings are in various states of restoration. And you get a sense of Inca engineering and math prowess as you gaze down a long avenue running the length of the complex, arrow-straight. This is even more remarkable considering this part of Peru is an earthquake zone, and these walls have stood for more than 550 years. And then, your guide tells you that they are in precise alignment with the sun, which shines through the entire passageway on the summer solstice. Finishing the attractions in grand style a short distance from Cusco, Temple Andahuaylillas, known as “Capilla Sixtina de América” (Sistine Chapel of America), is also very much worth a stop (although it would also be an easy day excursion from Cusco) Built by Jesuits beginning in 1610, probably on the site of an Inca temple, the church took many years to construct and decorate with numerous frescoes. Then in 1767, objecting to their social justice mission, the Spanish kicked the Jesuits out of the colonies and the church was taken over by Dominicans. While the Jesuits had proselytized respectfully, the Dominicans were brutal, leading to several rebellions among the indigenous population. The Dominicans also slathered the interior with gold and covered up many of the Jesuit frescoes with massive oil paintings. Interestingly, both the paintings and frescoes show subtle signs of resistance, incorporating much Quechua imagery—even including serpents, considered holy symbols of water and life by the Incas, but evil in Catholic theology. The Jesuits got it back in the early 19th century and have run it ever since, but kept the Dominican overlays. As to why they call it the Sistine chapel? The ceiling is amazing! Cusco The Plaza de las Armas (the name for the main square throughout southern Peru) is a gracious square of green with footpaths crossing at a beautiful central fountain. At several times during the day (I couldn’t figure out the pattern), the bordering streets are closed to traffic (and full of pedestrians). Many of the buildings surrounding the plaza are current or former church properties dating back hundreds of years. One small building that looks like it may have been built by Jesuits in the 1600s is now a science and engineering college. An adjoining building is an artisan market (though we saw both better and cheaper merchandise all over the place). An old convent and some active churches including the main cathedral also ring the plaza, along with many shops. And next to the convent is the Inca Temple of the Sun. This is well worth an hour, but only if you hire a guide (we hired one right at the entrance). There’s almost no signage, even in Spanish; with a guide, you’ll get fascinating information about Inca society, theology, and construction techniques. But without a guide, you’ll be staring at blank gray walls and wondering why you paid the admission fee. About 15 minutes of pleasant uphill walking will bring you to the chic San Blas neighborhood (go up the street with Paddy’s Irish Bar). This lively area is full of both high-end and low-end artisan shops, gourmet and proletarian eateries, locals and travelers. Continue up above the plaza on one of several stairways to another neighborhood, much less touristed, that follows a small piece of the Inca Trail (which stretches across five western South American countries from Ecuador and Colombia in the north to Chile and Argentina in the south); Cusco, the Incas’ capital, was the crossroads of its four main routes. Some of Cusco’s attractions are even farther up, including the White Cross, church of San Cristobal, and the Inca ruin Sacsayhuaman. You will be told it’s impossible to visit Sacsayhuaman without buying a 70 soles ticket covering four ruins, but according to this web page, you can visit just this one, and much more cheaply. However, that page is several years old, and we were not able to find more recent confirmation. We didn’t try to visit. In Cusco, even more than elsewhere, it seems there’s always a parade, a festival, a set of folk dancers, fireworks, and massive crowds watching it all. Our final day in Cusco, May 30, was both National Potato Day and the festival of Corpus Christi (Body of Christ). The potato festival was a regional event covering many outlying towns, but in Cusco it was a small farmers market filling a small square two blocks off the plaza. Indigenous farmers in traditional dress—both men and women—showed off a few dozen of the 3000+ types of potatoes grown in Peru. It was rare to see the men in traditional dress; the women are a common sight, setting up handicrafts, selling photo opportunities with baby llamas, and so forth—or simply walking around the various towns, going about their daily business. There is one guy who poses for tourist photos in front of the Stone of 12 Angles, in full Inca king regalia, but these men were far more simply, and more modernly, attired. While it was a relatively small celebration, it did have folk dancers, and I saw at least two reporters interviewing participants. This was one of the few festivals we saw in our Peru visit that was not connected with a Catholic church. Corpus Christi was a much bigger deal, packing the Plaza Des Armas and many smaller plazas around town with hundreds of marchers, many carrying saints on heavy wooden litters. One athletic group of about 30 male university students was visibly straining under the weight of an enormous Saint James conquering a Moor, in front of the Plaza San Pedro. The streets were mobbed and a friendly cop actually warned me to be cautious of pickpockets. Machu Picchu Our day exploring Machu Picchu and climbing Huayana Picchu (the big mountain you see behind Machu Picchu in so many pictures) was a highlight of my life! Machu Picchu welcomes 5000 to 7000 people per day, 400 of whom are allowed to climb this sacred mountain (in two clusters of 299 each). While this ruin is well set up for travelers, it’s less so for the spontaneous traveler. We bought our tickets five months before our trip. Arriving at the end of the bus ride up the serpentine road from Aguas Calientes, whose apparent sole purpose is to host Machu Picchu travelers and charge three times the going rate for goods and services, you’ll need to hire a guide (without which you will not be allowed in). Use the clean, modern bathroom before entering the site, which has no facilities. If you have hiking poles, make sure they have rubber tips; bare metal ones are not allowed. And have a way to stay hydrated that doesn’t involve visible plastic bottles. Respect the place; if you bring in any food or plastic, before to take it with you as you leave. Incidentally, the correct pronunciation of “Picchu” is “PEEK-chew.” While most places we’ve been in Peru are quite arid, we were pleased to discover that Machu Picchu is not desert but cleared rain forest, with actual natural trees nearby, views of glaciers, wonderful birds and flowers including wild orchids. Our group of three was assigned to knowledgeable Pedro, who showed us the entire site except one area which would have involved significant backtracking after our hike (he told us what we’d see there) and even showed us how to make a coca leaf offering to the god of the mountain. He taught us quite a bit about Inca civilization and quite a bit about the discovery of this lost city by Hiram Bingham, the real-life model for Indiana Jones. After about two hours, we said farewell at the gate to super-scenic Wayana Picchu (“Big Mountain” in Quechua), about a 1200 foot climb from the ruins. As someone who has had altitude issues even as low as 8200 feet above sea level, I strongly recommend starting your trip at much higher altitudes such as Puno and Cusco, so that going from 6000 to 7200 feet feels like no big deal; if we’d come here first, I would have found walking through the ruins difficult and climbing the peak impossible. The trail is mostly stairs, with cable handrails in a few spots, and the very occasional wooden handrail. The trail is narrow in places, but most of it is wide enough to get by someone slower or move over for someone faster. Most people hike it in about an hour; experiencing shortness of breath, I took an hour and a half and rested every time I needed to. Just get to the top before noon when they make everyone go down because rockslides start in the afternoons. On the way back to Ollantaytambo, we took the middle level of train service. The basic cars looked like commuter trains with no amenities, and the luxury class featured antique coaches with lots of wood paneling. Our mid-range train was a Vista Dome. I felt so pampered, starting with the way they led each carriage’s set of passengers around the station to their car. This was my first experience of a Vista Dome car, and for the first 40 minutes or so, we floated through the Andes, watching the beautiful mountains through giant picture windows on the sides and the ceiling—while we enjoyed complimentary snacks and drinks served on beautiful Peruvian placemats. I asked if it was possible to get more than one drink, and our hostess said (in Spanish) “of course.” Feeling dehydrated after our climb, as they were retrieving all the glasses, I asked for more water and was told that the beverage service had ended. BUT after the next two surprises, they came back with glasses of water for all three of us. Once it got too dark to see anything outside except the brilliant moon, over the PA crackled an announcement in Spanish and then English about a traditional dance. Out came a man in a puma mask and long blonde wig, wearing an intricate beaded costume in rainbow colors, who danced energetically up and down the aisle for maybe ten minutes, then started pulling women out of the aisle seats to dance with him for a minute or two each. At one point, he popped into the empty seat next to Dina. After that, the car host and hostess did a fashion show for us (demonstrating the flexibility of traditional Peruvian garments that can be worn several ways) and then gently peddled their high-end wares. It was both the most scenic and most entertaining train ride I’ve ever experienced. Ollantaytambo and the Sacred Valley This sweet, artsy town of about 4000 was our base for three nights; it reminded me of Ouray, Colorado. Most people come here for Inca ruins on two adjacent mountains—one official government site and another open without charge—or as a jumping-off point for Machu Picchu (especially for Inca Trail trekkers, who start their four-day journey here) and/or the Sacred Valley. We had paid for a Sacred Valley tour including the official ruins on our way here from Cusco, and already had a one-day government ticket covering four sites. But a general strike and city-wide road blockage made it impossible to leave Cusco in the morning. We spent two hours trying, and found our ways blocked by imaginative barricades ranging from three concrete blocks across a narrow street (one of which was easily rolled away by a policeman, allowing us to pass) to piles of burning trash, to entire streets filled with large stones—probably pushed out the back of a slow-moving pickup truck. One narrow street simply had a car parked sideways so no one could get around it. We later found out that the protestors had started blocking the streets at midnight and that excursions leaving as early as 4 a.m. were unable to find a way around. So we negotiated with our travel company to contact the government tourism office and get us an extension on our now-expired tickets, and to get us to Pisac on a different day’s Sacred Valley tour, where we would spend the day and get back on our own. I was actually very glad of this, because it meant we got to spend as much time as we wanted at the places we most cared about (two of which were not on the tour itinerary), rub shoulders with locals in colectivos (collective van taxis running fixed routes), and get to one site that wasn’t even on the ticket. It did mean that we skipped the Chinchero ruins we would have seen on the regular tour. Counting not just the two mountains but the entire modern downtown (including many structures built on Inca foundations), Ollantaytambo was actually far larger than Machu Picchu, which had only a few hundred people living there (although a much larger crew to build it). The first of our two full days, we climbed Pinchuyllano (Panpipes Mountain) to the no-cost ruins, primarily used for food storage. It was a pleasant hike, and playing in a four-tiered Inca structure was very cool. We got lucky in our choice for lunch: Rincon Ollantaytambo, a family place whose chalkboard announced organic food and a vegetarian option for the price-fixed lunch. 10 soles (less than $4 USD) each bought us soups and quinoa for me, spaghetti for Dina, all topped with really fresh vegetables cooked very lightly, delicious squeezed-to-order passion fruit juice, and a small dish of banana and papaya; the owner’s 9-month-old son entertained us (and we him) at no extra charge. For the official ruins, we used our tickets without a problem and hired a very good guide named Fernando Condori, Fernando_130981 at Hotmail.com, 051-953-405-613. He took us on the “medium” tour, which includes most but not all of the structures, and graciously explained about the three far-upper parts we were missing as well as telling us what we’d seen on Pinchuyllano. The next day, we took a colectivo for about an hour, out to a junction with many waiting taxis. We chartered one to take us to the Moray ruins, wait for us, then bring us to the salt mines at Salineras and show us the entrance to the hiking trail we would take from there. As we were negotiating the price, another collective deposited two recent college grads from the US, Chelsea and Sarah, who joined us as far as the salt flats (and lowered the price a bit). With its striking circular layout of terraces, Moray was quite different from the numerous other Inca ruins we’ve visited. Our driver, Pepe, told us it had been an experimental agriculture station, where the Incas developed and tested their many new varieties of corn, potatoes (2000 kinds!), quinoa, squash, etc. Each terrace ring has a 3˚Celsius difference in temperature. And again, we had no problem using the expired ticket. The vast salt beds were about a 20 minute drive from there, deep in a beautiful canyon. They went on for probably over a mile. The salt evaporates out from water, and is concentrated at 70% --twice the strength of sea water. It comes in many colors. These are working mines, and we actually got directions from a salt farmer. Of course, we bought a half-kilo of salt to take back home, especially since the artisanal salt we bought a year ago in Portugal is almost gone. Then we got to hike the canyon for an hour of spectacular scenery, before catching another colectivo for a 29-minute ride back to the Ollantaytambo main square. We stayed in the Iskay Hotel, about three blocks from the main square. Not only was the staff super-helpful (as has been our experience in almost every Peruvian hotel we’ve visited), but it had the best breakfast buffet, by far, of our trip. The selection is smaller than most, but the quality is extraordinary: home-made unsweetened barley granola with raisins, sunflower seeds, and peanuts…home-made elderberry (sour) and peach (sweet) jams, eggs made to order…the usual quinoa bread and fresh fruit…a hot porridge of oats and raisins…fresh-squeezed orange juice…excellent coffee…hot milk….excellent yogurt…local sugar, salt, and honey…and possibly the richest, freshest 100% cacao powder I’ve ever had (I’d be shocked if it wasn’t organic). The hotel kitchen emphasizes local and natural. The only concession to meat eaters was sliced ham. When one of our party asked about textiles as we entered the village of Chinchero, en route from Ollantaytambo back to Cuzco, our driver asked if we wanted to see how the weavings were made. Of course, we eagerly accepted and enjoyed a demonstration of how the wool, llama, or alpaca fiber was cut from the animal, cleaned, spun into yarn, woven, and dyed. This studio uses natural dyes and a variety of techniques. Green comes from one plant, brown from another. Blue actually comes from indigo. Red and orange come from a parasitic organism that lives on prickly pear cactus; it looks like blood when crushed and creates several different shades depending on whether it’s mixed with hot or cold water and in what proportions, how the yarn is dipped, and various other factors. The women work only four hours a day, to preserve their backs and their eyesight; the weaving requires careful attention and close handwork. We didn’t get to see the local ruins, but we felt that this hour (including the demonstration and shopping some of their exquisite work) was a highlight. Our last stop in the Sacred Valley, which we did as a day trip from Cusco, was a full day in Pisac. We got out there and toured the upper ruins on our make-good for the cancelled Sacred Valley tour on the day of the general strike. But the layout of Pisac made us particularly glad to be on our own; the ruins at the top, where group tours spend about an hour, are only a tiny portion of the whole thing, and the way to see the rest is to hike several hours down to the modern city, which passes close to most of the ruins. Our guide cheerfully explained the upper ruins in detail, pointed out our route to the lower part, and drove off with the other passengers. Like Moray, Pisac has a lot of terraces—but semicircular rather than circular. It also has several different types of buildings, many of them built for the working classes (walls using stones in their natural shape, held together with mortar and somewhat widely spaced—more similar to Mayan ruins than to many of the classic temple-style Inca buildings we’ve seen. There were a couple of temple complexes as well: massive stones, color-matched, precisely squared off, with no visible mortar, and so tight that after 600 years, it’s still not possible to slide a piece of paper between them. Both sets of walls still seem quite sturdy, designed as they were to withstand earthquakes that knock down much of the colonial construction every few hundred years. The lower reaches of Pisac include two very unusual sites: the funky and inviting thatched-roof Hospital area and the magnificent Temple of the Sun, with reddish stones surrounding a gray core. Learn more about these fascinating ruins, which are more extensive than Ollantaytambo’s and far larger than Machu Picchu’s. The hike is long and tiring, but also exhilarating and extremely scenic. We’d left our hiking poles in our hotel, which was a mistake, but actually there were only a few sections where they would have really made things significantly easier. Don’t do this trail if you’re claustrophobic; one mercifully short tunnel is so narrow that I had to move my water bottle holster from my shoulder directly in front of my chest. Three days a week, the modern town of Pisac has an extensive market. Arriving long after the morning tourists had passed through on their rapid-fire Sacred Valley tours, we were very pleased both with the lack of pressure—although that heated up as it drew near to closing time—and the high quality of the textiles, and bought several items. In between your hike and shopping, grab lunch at one of the many restaurants offering price-fixed three-course lunches. As in Ollantaytambo, many of the businesses cater to New Age lifestyles, with many vegan and vegetarian food options, as well as yoga studios, shamanic shops, natural foods grocers, and so on. Peru and the Environment Peru’s approach to sustainability is a mass of contradictions. Fifty years after pollution controls became widely used in the US, Peru still lets vehicles spew smoke into the air, and a very high percentage of the vehicle fleet is diesel. The clouds of noxious black smoke remind me of my childhood in New York City, or early trips to Europe and Latin America in the 1970s and 1980s. And while less than some other Latin American countries, litter is everywhere. On the other hand, everyone seems to have a consciousness about protecting the natural world and the cultural treasures. Peruvians are often asked to sort trash for recycling, though compliance rates appear quite low. Many homes and commercial buildings have solar hot water on the roof, but the only place in this very sunny country where I saw photovoltaic (solar electricity generation) was on the remote islands of Lake Titicaca, whose off-grid communities use rooftop and ground-mounted photovoltaic to power small appliances. We found out (at Machu Picchu, of all places, where we could see the pipes) that Peru’s entire electrical grid is largely hydropower. Heating, however (where it exists at all), is often propane, as is the non-solar hot water. Built-in heat in buildings seems rare, despite the cold winter mornings. We encountered several hotels supplying heat with portable electric space heaters, which are not the most efficient way to heat but have one big advantage: they only have to run when they are needed. It was not uncommon to see hotel or restaurant staff at their desks in winter coats and warm hats during the early morning and late evening hours. Considering how hard it is to get vegetarian food at Peruvian restaurants in the US, we were very pleasantly surprised by the food culture in the places we visited. We never had problems finding vegetarian choices, and in many locations found vegetarian and vegan restaurants, as well as omnivore restaurants touting organic and farm-to-table food. Many of the fruits and vegetables were extremely fresh, and we encountered plenty of vegetarian and vegan adaptations of traditional Andean dishes, as well as new combinations. We ate a lot of papaya and quinoa (along with similar grains we hadn’t encountered previously, such as the super protein food cañihua, mango when we got lucky, mind-blowing fresh juices… Every hotel or restaurant had multiple herbal tea choices, always including coca leaf, chamomile, and anise, sometimes including muñil and other choices. Of course, we were on the tourist track, and often in trekking-oriented places that attract a strong culture of health and wellness; in these places, tourism is often the number one industry. It might have been different in working-class mill towns that get few travelers. Paper napkins are thinner and much smaller than at home, designed only to wipe your face and hands at the end of a meal (in the US, I often save them to blow my nose). But toilet paper squares are about a third longer (rectangles, really) and thicker than most US brands. It was still a challenge, though, when at one pay-per-use toilet, the attendant doled out exactly three squares for my one sol fee. And speaking of toilet paper, Peru—like everyplace we’ve ever visited in Latin America—wants the used stuff disposed of in the little trash can in each stall. TIP: fold the paper over before tossing it, to keep the odors down. Water is not considered potable by US sources, which means not only buying bottled water but also being careful about eating raw fruits and veggies without a peel. In tourist restaurants, it’s generally safe to assume the water has been purified before washing lettuce and tomatoes—better yet, ask “he lavado en agua purificada?” (was it washed in purified water?)—but be very cautious in restaurants frequented by locals. Always ask for drinks “sin hielo”—pronounced “seen yellow”—without ice. Peruvian hotels, even in the lower-mid-range budget class we generally stayed in, are kind of a step back in time for travelers from the US. On the positive side, clients are treated like royalty, the desk clerks are knowledgeable and helpful, and amenities like gracious patios and gardens are common. Cleanliness is prized, and we constantly observed staff using their spare moments to polish railings, sweep and mop floors, dust counters, etc. But from an environmental standpoint, housekeeping still replaces every towel every day, and in at least two hotels we stayed in uses harsh chemicals to clean. I happened to get back to my room once just as the cleaners were finishing, and I had to go back downstairs and use the lobby bathroom because I couldn’t even be in my room’s bathroom. Disability Access Not a great country for those with walking disabilities, and especially those who use wheelchairs or scooters. Sidewalks are narrow; curb cuts, capricious. In Puno, for example, we saw multiple examples of a beautiful, probably architect-designed curb cut on one side of an intersection and a 9-inch curb with no cut at all across the street. And then there’s the altitude issue, which hit all of our group to some extent. Anyone with a compromised immune system or breathing difficulties should be extremely cautious, and everyone should be aware that even very tiny exertions, like walking up a very gradual slope, can be intimidating at altitudes above 8000 feet, and that gets worse the higher up you are. We drove through one pass above 16,000 feet and hiked as high as 13,000 or so. If you have any mobility or breathing issues at all, consult both your physician and a skilled travel agent with knowledge on the ground before your trip. In my case, I got through the trip with the help of a prescription medicine called Diamox. Other Tips Money Changing: In most countries we’ve visited, ATM withdrawals are the easiest and cheapest ways to get local currency. In Peru, most ATMs charge hefty fees in the 15-20 sol range ($5-6), plus the cost from your home bank of using a foreign ATM. We found one with no fees (and long lines) in Puno. In Cusco, we were able to exchange untorn US dollars for soles at the current exchange rate and no fee, at LAC on Avenida del Sol, about two blocks form the Plaza de las Armas. Inca Religion and Achievements While we can’t really know in full how the Incas celebrated their traditions, we know a fair amount. The three most sacred symbols are the condor, representing the heavens (and charged with transporting souls of the dead), the puma, dominating the land, and the serpent, in charge of the underworld. Inca serpent worship was a source of conflict with the Spanish Catholics, who saw the snake as the betrayer of Adam and Eve.The Incas laid out many of their cities in the shapes of these and other animals: Cusco, the capital, whose name means navel and whose culture is full of birth imagery, was puma-shaped, with the head at Sacsayhuaman. Pisac was in the shape of a condor, while Ollantaytambo formed a llama. Many dualities were also central to Inca belief. Male and female, up and down, round versus rectangular, and several other dualities all played a role. Learn more at this link. Rather than worldly goods, the Inca rulers collected taxes in the form of a work requirement. Every Inca was obligated to spend a period of time doing construction, agriculture, or other community betterment work. The Inca palaces and temples were lavishly decorated in gold and silver—and colorfully painted, too—but they served aesthetic and practical purposes (e.g., as a non-reactive metal, gold has medicinal uses) rather than being prized as a source of material wealth. Although the culture can be traced back to about 3200 BCE, the Incas started actively expanding around 1400, conquering other indigenous nations and establishing Quechua as a national language (many Aymara-speakers were pushed into Bolivia). Centered in Cusco and reaching more than 2000 kilometers, their empire stretched from present-day Colombia in the north to Chile and Argentina in the south. Architectural styles and materials varied depending on local culture and purpose: mud-brick versus massive cut stone slabs versus ordinary mortared stone walls made with rocks that could be picked up by hand, for instance. The stone slabs, for temples and palaces, were far larger, and fitted together precisely without mortar. Once a stone was in place, a mold would be taken to carve another stone to fit exactly. The stones matched in color as well as shape, and many of them weighed several tons apiece. They were laid out with incredible precision, highlighting their alignments on solstices and equinoxes. They included niches for religious objects, niches for tombs, handles for moving (by large groups of workers). And, even with little or no mortar, the trapezoidal shapes of these large rocks could withstand earthquakes that brought down the Spanish colonial cities. They built towers, fortresses, palaces, temples, and working-class neighborhoods. They terraced the high Andes and turned these jagged mountains into productive land. They domesticated llamas and alpacas. Agriculturally, the Incas developed thousands of types of potatoes, corn, quinoa, and other crops, each adapted for specific microclimates. Then they hybridized them, to expand the range of viable habitats for the best varieties. They had an elaborate calendar, as well. Green/social change business profitability expert Shel Horowitz shows you how to profit by greening your business, turning hunger and poverty into sufficiency, war into peace, and catastrophic climate change into planetary balance, and marketing these commitments. Shel’s 10th book, Guerrilla Marketing to Heal the World (Morgan James Publishing), highlights profitable and successful socially responsible strategies used by companies from Fortune 100 to solopreneurs: http://goingbeyondsustainability.com/guerrilla-marketing-to-heal-the-world/ To discuss your next project with him or schedule a no-charge 15-minute strategy session: shel [AT] greenandprofitable.com, 413-586-2388 (8 a.m. to 10 p.m., US Eastern Time), Twitter: @ShelHorowitz |
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