Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10.PCS 1/10/84; site mtgzz.UUCP Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!burl!ulysses!mhuxr!mhuxt!houxm!mtuxo!mtgzz!ecl From: ecl@mtgzz.UUCP (e.c.leeper) Newsgroups: net.travel Subject: Traveling in Peru/Ecuador (Part 1 of 3) Message-ID: <1644@mtgzz.UUCP> Date: Fri, 7-Feb-86 18:39:41 EST Article-I.D.: mtgzz.1644 Posted: Fri Feb 7 18:39:41 1986 Date-Received: Sun, 9-Feb-86 06:47:20 EST Organization: AT&T Information Systems Labs, Holmdel NJ Lines: 438 Three Weeks in the Wilds of South America A travelogue by Evelyn C. Leeper Week 1 of 3: Incan Ruins December 23, 1985: Well, it's taken me a while to get started but now I'm sitting on the beach in Montego Bay, Jamaica. "Jamaica?" you say. "I thought you were going to Peru!" You see, it's like this... Our 8AM (Sunday) flight had already been delayed to 10:30AM by the time we got to the airport (6AM). We boarded at 10:30, only to deplane, still at JFK, at 1:30PM, at which point they projected an 11PM departure! This wrecked havoc with our 3:30PM Aero Peru connection, but there was nothing else to do but wait. Air Jamaica put us in "day rooms" at a nearby hotel. We had dinner at 6, and napped/watched TV until 11, when they called our room to tell us the bus was there. When we got downstairs, it turned out to be a false alarm. We slept until 1AM (Monday) when they finally *did* take us back to the plane and we took off at 3:15AM! The 80 passengers whose cruise ship sailed at 8PM weren't too happy--or mellow--but arrangements were made to fly them to the ship's next port. It looks like we'll miss the half-day tour of Lima, but should make our flight to Cuzco. (There are 14 of us "Peruvians" on the plane; the rest were "cruisers" or "Jamaicans.") There is a Japanese couple, Katsu and Kuniko, who are also taking the Peruvian Explorer package, so we'll get to the hotel with them if we can't Telex ahead for ground transportation. Ah, life's little adventures. But the beach? Well, when we landed at 6:30AM (gorgeous sunrise, by the way, from the plane), Air Jamaice had us taken to a beach hotel for breakfast and a few hours rest on the beach. Too bad Aero Peru has our suitcases. I can't wait to change clothes! December 24, 1985: We took off from Montego Bay, but not without problems. In spite of Air Jamaica telling us we had confirmed seats on the flight, and in spite of the Kimuras' travel agent verifying this, we still ended up on standby. I suspect we got the seats for Monday's Air Jamaica transfers, because they were 4 hours late and missed the flight. One problem with resorts, I realized in Montego Bay, is their sameness. The hotel in Jamaica looked just like the hotel in Cozumel. There must be some way to go for a relaxing vacation and still know where you are. Immigration and Customs were much faster in Lima than in Jamaica, and when we got through, we found the representative from the local tour company (Receptour Peru) waiting for us. This was a surprise, since we hadn't been able to Telex him our new flight information. Apparently he had met the flight the night before and picked up people who were supposed to get in the night before *that* and figured we would arrive a day late also. Jamaica was nice, but don't fly Air Jamaica to get there. Admittedly you don't see the best part of a city driving from the airport to the downtown area. Still, I was less than impressed with Lima. It looks old--not quaint old or historic old, but used old. There don't seem to be many tall buildings (because of the danger of earthquakes) and almost all of the buildings are old, with peeling paint, etc. The Hotel Crillon is a fancy (older) hotel. Oh, true to form, we did have one problem at the airport. Angelo (our host) apologized for having to park the van outside the airport, but he said a car had "exploded" at the other terminal and the road was blocked. I don't know if he meant "caught fir" or "exploded." At any rate, he talked to us on the way to the hotel and told a little about Lima and its problems. One major problem is the influx of people from the countryside. Lima now has seven million people, and while the government is trying to encourage development elsewhere in the country, the city is already over-populated. Mexico City also has this problem, as do many cities in undeveloped countries. One book described it as "In the countryside, they can scratch out a subsistence living. They come to the city for TV and end up with nothing." THE EMERALD FOREST shows this also. Angelo also talked a little about terrorism (mostly in the northern part of the country, though there have been incidents of bombing of electrical towers in the cities) and crime (not much violent crime because of strict gun control, but a lot of theft). In the hotel, we went over our itinerary. Without our even mentioning it, Angelo said it would probably be possible to get our half-day city tour of Lima at the end of the trip (it was supposed to be Monday, which we passed on the beach). Our flight to Cuzco is at 6:30AM, so pickup was set at 5AM. We didn't get much sleep, but at least we knew when we had to get up. We are now waiting to take off. It looks like the Kimuras are the only other people who signed up for the package. I assume we'll combine with other groups on some of the tours. (I realize I haven't written much yet, but we haven't seen much yet.) It's now 7:40AM. We should be arriving in Cuzco soon. We've seen some mountains poking through the clouds, but now we're flying too high (we're probably at 30,000+ feet; Cuzco is at 11,000 feet and it's high in the mountains, though La Paz is higher). 9:15 and we are in the Hotel Libertador in Cuzco. The view when the plane comes down through the clouds and you see the Andes for the first time is magnificent! Snow-capped peaks in the distance, green ranges closer by, with fantastic gorges and valleys. *This* is what we came to South America for. The air did seem thinner, but they may be the power of suggestion. Mark took out a bag of corn chips he got in New York and it was all puffed out. We opened all our unsealed bottles and it was the same with each one. (That, by the way, is why my purse smelled of vanilla for about three months after our Mexico trip--the bottle of vanilla leaked in the lower cabin pressure of the flight. Plastic bottles can puff out; glass leaks out the lid.) We are not rushing out, because there is a two-hour rest period for all incoming tourists to adjust to the altitude. Also a cup of coca tea (mate)--not narcotic, mind you. We put some SPF8 on our faces just in case the sun is strong. The temperature is about 10 degrees Celsius (48 degrees Fahrenheit) so suntan lotion may seem silly, but there's a lot less atmospheric sunscreen here. We are at 3400 meters (11,000'). I was wondering what altitude most airlines pressurize their cabins to. My pulse is about 90--I think it's usually about 75, but I'll check back in Lima. I suspect the Kimuras may have some language difficulty, since they don't appear to know Spanish. Most people we have dealt with speak some English, but even a little Spanish is helpful. Of course, it's always the important word that you don't know. At the hotel in Lima, there was some confusion when they couldn't find the bill. I wanted to say that we had paid yesterday by voucher, but my Spanish doesn't include "voucher." Coffin, I know, is ataud, but voucher they never taught. After our nap, we went to an alpaca factory. Factory is a word used all over the world with different meanings everywhere. In the U.S., it means a place of manufacture. In China, it's a place of manufacture with a store for tourists attached. In Latin America, they eliminate the noise and pollution of the manufacture and have only the store. And the store sells everything, not just alpaca products. It's the equivalent of a Chinese Friendship Store, but privately-owned, not governmental. Unfortunately for the owner, we had all come to see Peru, not to buy alpaca sweaters. Why is it that gringos are known as buyers everywhere? And every guide book include copious shopping tips. I admit I enjoy buying chatchkas--small knickknacks, a hat, a T-shirt (how American!). But I don't travel to buy jade, or silk, or alpaca, or anything else. Why do I travel? Good question, glad you asked. :-) (By the way, :-) is a smiley-face and means that the statement preceding it was tongue-in-cheek.) I travel to learn. Reading about someplace or something, or even seeing a film of it, isn't the same as being there. But I do that also before a trip, so I guess I learn to travel too. Everywhere we've gone has been different than what I expected, and in totally unpredictable ways. But I can't explain how--it's more a feeling a place gives you. One of the things I've learned from this trip (and the studying for it) is that when the Spanish decided to loot South and Central America instead of settle it, they impoverished first Latin America and then themselves. Let's hope we've learned since then. Well, enough philosophy--back to the travelogue. We returned to the hotel from the "factory" via taxi. It took a long time for the shop owner to flag one down and then he and the driver had a dispute over what the fare should be (paid by the shop, I should add). I suspect the other taxis would rather pick up rich tourists who don't know what the fare should be. We then went to the bank to change money, but it was closed, whether for lunch hour or Christmas Eve, we couldn't tell. Yes, it's Christmas Eve and the plazas are packed. La Plaza de Armas has been closed to vehicles and is apparently a street fair, but we're really not up for that. Anyway, we ended up changing money at a money exchange. We got 16,800 soles to the dollar. Since we change $100, we're millionaires! We had a light lunch at the hotel. I had cream of asparagus soup, flan, and mate. Mark had a cheese sandwich, flan, and a chocolate milkshake. Our afternoon tour of Cuzco--again, just the four of us--started with a somewhat hair-raising drive to Saqsayhuaman. They don't believe in guard rails for cliffs here. Saqsayhuaman (it means "grey hawk") was an Incan fortress. We got to see the stonework up close. The stones are fitted together without cement, and not just rectilinear lines either. This makes the construction earthquake-proof because the walls can give rather than break. Where some stones had been removed you could see that the inside edges were not as precise. There were also women in traditional dress who would pose for your pictures (for a fee, of course). And lots of people selling souvenirs. Then we drove even higher, to Tambomachay, where there is a mountain spring that the Incans built a tambo (inn) around. There was also a temple of part of the inn. More exciting roads and more ruins, but just seen from the road. From that height you also get a magnificent view of all of Cuzco with its red tile roofs (required by law). A couple of side topics now--those who don't want to wait to hear what we did next can skip this and the next paragraph. Soroche is the Qechua word for altitude sickness. (Qechua is the primary Indian language of Peru, and as common here as Spanish is in New York.) Most people get the shortness of breath that comes with the altitude. Some get headaches (lower pressure on the head), dryness of the throat, etc. So far we've been lucky, with shortness of breath only when climbing stairs or hills. A short sit- down and you're fine again. We'll see what happens tomorrow. Other topic--research. My research for this trip included Prescott's THE CONQUEST OF PERU, Darwin's THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE (excerpts on Peru and Ecuador), Melville's "Las Encantadas," and the films THE EMERALD FOREST, ROYAL HUNT OF THE SUN, and SECRET OF THE INCAS. (Also several guidebooks and newspaper clippings.) Back to the plot--we then returned to Cuzco where we saw the Monastery of Santo Domingo, which used to be the Temple of the Sun. One thing about the Incan ruins we've seen so far--there are no decorations or statuary. Aztec, Toltec, Mayan ruins all have elaborate decorative motifs, but the Incans seem to have concentrated on just making a very well-constructed building. We got done a little early because a couple of churches we would have visited were closed because of Christmas Eve. We may get to them on Friday (our day at leisure in Cuzco). At 6:30 we went to a folk dance show, which lasted about 90 minutes. There were about seven or eight dances, some simple, some complex. In between (during costume changes) the band played folk songs and at the end they played some traditional songs on traditional instruments. In spite of the Christmas Eve traffic noises intruding, we enjoyed it a lot. Afterwards we had dinner at the hotel with the Kimuras and a couple from Denver that we met. The Denver couple was a lot of fun--he told us about his 70-year-old aunt who smuggled 500 yarmulkes into the Soviet Union, and all sorts of other stories. Service was very slow because the restaurant was crowded. I had sea bass with hearts of palm au gratin. December 25, 1985: Well, we thought we'd finally get a good night's sleep because our bus wasn't until 9AM, but the hotel mistakenly called us at 5:20 along with all the people who had a 7AM pick-up. I did get back to sleep, but it wasn't the same. Breakfast was buffet--I had fruit, a danish, and mate. Oh, I forgot to mention all the noise from firecrackers and fireworks for Christmas. This went on through most of the night. We began with a ride past Pukapukara, near Tambomachay, and then over the mountains into the Urubamba Valley. This is without a doubt the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen. I can't even begin to describe the mountains and valleys, the terraced slopes, the gorges...you have to see it for yourself. We stopped to take pictures a couple of times and the quiet was amazing. You could hear the river and the birds in the valley and nothing else. In spite of the steepness of the slopes, many were farmed using terraces, and many other had animals (cows, sheep, llamas, burros, pigs, even horses) grazing on them. The people we see here in traditional dress are *not* doing it for the tourists. We stopped in Pisaq and saw part of what I believe is called the March of the Mayors. These are parades, about 15 minutes apart, across the square (in Mexico it would be called a zocalo, here it's a plaza) to the church. I can't tell if this is done mostly for the tourists or not. The streets are very narrow (as they are in most towns here) and have drainage channels down the center or sides. At one point, the street was so narrow that the bus couldn't pass until the store owner took down her sign! We see a lot of dogs here (unlike in China), but they're all fairly mangy-looking. We dropped off three women in one of the small towns we passed through (apparently we were doubling as bus service because it was Christmas) and proceeded to Ollantaytambo, one of the great Incan fortresses. Built to cover the side of a mountain (well, a small mountain), it consists of dozens of terraces leading up to barracks, work areas, temples, and other buildings. When we first looked at it we all thought, "We're going to climb *that*?" but it was easier than we thought, with several rest stops, of course. Ollantaytambo is lower than Cuzco and it is easier to breathe. (Also we're becoming acclimated.) From the top you can look across the valley and see Incan ruins on the mountainside there. The top has a wall consisting of six huge rocks, brought from the other side of the Urubamba River, many miles away. Each weighs several tons. Although it was warm at the base, it was windy and chilly at the top, making me wish I hadn't left my sweater in the bus. And it also started to rain (just a light sprinkle, though, and my hat was sufficient protection). I asked the guide about the lack of decoration and was told that was traditional Incan design--very somber and solid. We then went to Yucay and our hotel for the night, the Alhambra. Lunch was very strange. It started with an appetizer of two small pieces of pork (very tough), a small fried potato (some variety that tasted like it already had the butter in it), and a marinated onion slice and mint leaf salad. Then came soup (cabbage, we think) and the main course, which could best be described as a chicken fruit cake. It was a cold chicken loaf with bits of fruit in it; along with it were whipped potatoes (sweet tasting) and some fruit. For dessert, there was a cake with an orange gel filling with a layer of chocolate pudding. All in all, a strange meal. We were finished by 2PM, but had nothing scheduled until the next day. Yucay not being one of your major metropolises, we weren't sure how to spend the afternoon. We rested a while to let our lunch settle, then went out walking with the Kimuras. When we got to the main road, we found ourselves following a Procession of the Virgin (I think). We followed that for a while, then came back to a park where families were all picnicking and enjoying the holiday. We went back to the hotel (the Kimuras walked on). As we were writing our logs a herd of bulls wandered by our window. Gradually people started picnicking on the lawn and other animals wandered by too. This is definitely rural! Dinner (at 7:30) was much better than lunch (yes, I admit I wasn't fond of the lunch). There was cream of asparagus soup, followed by broiled fish in a mustard sauce with capers, beets, and potato. Dessert was a crepe. Even if you ask for tea at the beginning of the meal, it doesn't arrive until the end. After dinner we went walking with some other Americans (one was even from East Brunswick!). They had seen Machu Picchu and were going river rafting next. Walking down the street we got pulled into a Peruvian hora. Even though we couldn't communicate very well, we had a good time. December 26, 1985: We woke up to donkeys braying right outside our window. Breakfast was two pieces of monk's bread, orange juice, and tea (Mark had coffee). We then went to the Ollanta train station--about a 40- minute ride from Yucay--to catch the train to Machu Picchu. The train station was full of people selling things, from ears of corn with kernels the size of marbles to wall hangings. A lot of the vendors are children, making us wonder what provisions, if any, have been made for their education. Luckily, we found our guide on the train--or rather, he found us, "the four Japanese" as he called us. The train ride was magnificent, just like the drive the day before. We saw some distant snow-covered mountains, but as we descended the climate became tropical. The Urubamba River, which we followed, is the color of chocolate soda, probably from stirring up the riverbed with its force. We got to the Machu Picchu train station about 10AM and boarded the mini-bus for the 20-minute ride to the top. This ride is definitely not for the faint of heart, since it is nothing but hairpin turns and sheer drops on one side of the road. What can one say about Machu Picchu? Even on a flat plain it would be impressive, but perched up on top of an enormous, almost impossible to climb mountain, it staggers the imagination. We spent three hours walking through it and merely scratched the surface of what there was to see. Now that they have the hotel there (not in the ruins, but just below them), one really should stay the night to have time to really see it (the train for Cuzco leaves at 3PM, meaning you have to take a bus down by 2:30PM). We both got slight sunburns, even wearing hats and long sleeves (I think Mark rolled up his sleeves, but I got burned on the backs of my hands). Our guide, Oscar, knew Hiram Bingham, the "discoverer" of Machu Picchu, and had worked on several movies filmed there. After three hours, we were quite tired out, and willing to go back to the Machu PIcchu hotel for lunch--vegetable soup, fish or beef with rice, and a fruit cup. And sodas--three hours of walking had left us very thirsty. (Since entire books have been written about Machu Picchu, I will not attempt to describe it in detail--you can look at our pictures, or better yet, go yourself.) By the time we took the mini-bus back down to the train station, it (the station) had become a marketplace with vendors selling books, postcards, T-shirts, jewelry, wall hangings, etc. We almost missed our train because we were looking for the "b" train and it was hidden behind the vendors. We did get ourselves loaded on, though, and had a three and a half hour ride back. The first hour was scenery we had seen, then we passed Ollanta (where a couple of girls in the station were playing jacks with pebbles instead of jacks) and proceeded through new country (actually we had driven through it the day before, but the train followed a slightly different path). We climbed back from the 8000' of Machu Picchu to the 11000' of Cuzco (including a switch-back descent into Cuzco itself). By the way, the festival on Christmas in Yucay has been written up in tour books, so that could be why we stopped there. They should have told us ahead of time, though. Dinner at the hotel was less than thrilling. It took several requests to get our sodas, and my aji de gallina consisted mostly of chicken scraps. The causa limena wasn't bad, though--whipped yellow potato with meat, shrimp, avocado, and spicy onion topping. Except for my error in eating what I thought was a slice of green pepper; it wasn't. I quickly gulped down a quarter of a tomato to quench the fire and everything was fine again. December 27, 1985: We spent the morning seeing Cuzco with Kuniko (Katsu wasn't feeling well). We walked to the Plaza de Armas to see the Cathedral (which didn't open until 10AM) so we went to the Regional Museum instead. This contained one small room of poorly displayed Incan objects (which were mostly reproductions) and many rooms of art from the Colonial period, interesting for its mixture of European (Christian) and Incan symbols. Pictures of saints would often show Inca-style dress and snakes or pumas. The Indian interpretation of the Trinity is also unusual--three figures with the identical face. Often the Father is shown holding an orb, the Son is shown with His wounds, and the Holy Ghost is shown appearing to Mary. There was also a painting portraying Jews flogging Jesus. The guide asked us if we knew the word "judios" and was somewhat embarrassed by the painting when we said we were Jewish. The Archaeology Museum was very similar to Egyptian museums, even down to mummies, though Incan mummies are in a fetal position. It was a fair- sized museum of Incan (and a few pre-Incan) artifacts. We then went back to the Cathedral. It was very ornate and (one might almost say) garish). We did get to see the painting of the Last Supper showing the Apostles eating guinea pig (which was the meat for ceremonial meals for the Incas). There was also a Crucifixion by Van Dyck and many more paintings, too numerous to describe. We had picked up a guide at the first museum and there was some confusion/awkwardness when the time came to pay him because we (foolishly) had not determined the rate beforehand. There appeared to be a fixed rate of $2 per person per museum, which was more than we expected, though not unreasonable by U.S. standards) and a bit unfair to Kuniko, who probably didn't understand a lot of what was said. Oh, well, such is travel. We bought some souvenirs from the vendors outside the Cathedral, including a women belt from a woman who seemed ready to follow us back to our hotel to make a sale. I gave her a ripped, stapled 10,000-sol note as part of the payment, which she didn't want to take, but when we started to take the money back and return the belt, she decided it was good enough. For lunch I had Arroz a la Cubana--rice with two fried eggs on top, a (thick) slice of bacon, a piece of ham and a fried banana. Also tea--it takes a long time to get beverages here. The second time I asked, I got the teabag, but it was another ten minutes before the hot water arrived. After lunch Kuniko came out to say that she and Katsu weren't going to Pikillacta. Our guide showed up late and could only speak a little English. So off the three of us went, in a beat-up Datsun taxi with a broken speedometer. We first saw Andahuaylillas, known for its church, wherein is 95% of the town's wealth. It was difficult to understand our guide and often I think I got the gist of what he was saying, but couldn't translate. Pikillacta is a pre-Incan ruin (c. 1100 AD) accessible only via a dirt road which had turned to mud in several places because of the rain. The ruins are quite extensive and worth the trip, showing a different type of architecture, multi-storied, with mortar, and entrances on the second floor. I think the guide could tell we were tired, because we started back rather abruptly. Have you ever spent a night in a Peruvian jail? Well, neither have we, but it was close. We were stopped at a police checkpoint and our papers were not, as they say, in order. In fact, they were in the safe deposit box where the guide had said to put them. The driver's papers weren't in order either, but he did have the necessary papers--two 10,000-sol notes. By this point, Mark and I both decided that between my cold and the overall strangeness of the afternoon, we were not up to going to a chicheria for cuy (guinea pig) and chicha (corn beer). In fact, we skipped dinner altogether. (End of Week 1) Evelyn C. Leeper ...ihnp4!mtgzz!ecl (or ihnp4!mtgzy!ecl)