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Aug 6 - Aug 16, 1999

The Stars So Close You Can Touch Them

Touring Puno, Lake Titicaca and Cuzco

Manfred P.

Keywords: Peru, Cuzco, Puno, Lake Titicaca, tourist, travel trip report, travel log, travelogue.

The sight from the plane was fantastic. I was staring and couldn't take my eyes of them. I was nervously moving around in the airline seat to get the best view. The volcanoes were shaped in a perfect cone form and they were covered in a glowing white of innocence. It was the contrast that made them stand out even more. The neighboring area was rather flat and the colors an earthen brown. But then rose these majestic cones -- out of the average landscape.

Arequipa, The Dream

The plane was approaching Arequipa airport. 9 months ago I dreamed of getting here. But my dreams were different from reality, and my dreams were not to be fulfilled. Not now. One can always be hopeful about the future though. My dreams were to come here to climb one of the three highest and most impressive volcanoes. In my dreams I got off the plane and installed myself in the city for a longer stay. I would perform the final preparations for the ascent. I would compare the data I had collected with the local situation. I would check the weather situation with a local guide. I would acclimatize. I would chat to guides about the risk factors. I would arrange for the necessary equipment rental. I would possibly try to win someone over to join me. I would arrange for transport, some local pickup truck to get me closer to the starting point. I would memorize my hand-drawn map and ascent notes. I would nervously pack and double- check all items in the backpack. I would set the alarm clock. I would, as always, sleep really terribly the last night in Arequipa before departure. I would get on the pickup truck in the early morning hours when it is still dark and above all cold. The experience would start. I would be alone in this vast nature. I would see the peak in front of me all the time, but it would not move much closer. In the afternoons, it would get colder every hour. I would have a hard time finding a place where I can put the tent. I would have a meager dinner in the tent. I would sleep better than the night before. It would be cold as always. Slowly the peak would move closer. The second night I would spend at 16,400 ft (5,000m). I would sleep poorly because of the cold and the thin air. At 18,000 ft (5,500m) I would need to put on the crampons. Hours later I would reach the three small crosses. I would be at 19,926 ft (6,075m). I would be on top of Nevado Chachani. My heart would be warm, my fingers freezing and my head with a major headache. But I would have reached my dream. Unfortunately, all this was and is just my dream. Up to small details I have it all in my head. But it is not reality, not yet.

Arequipa, The Reality

The plane approached the runway quickly and I tried to soak up the last bird's eye views from the volcanoes. The three most important ones are El Misti, Nevado Chachani and Nevado Ampato. The latter two are above 6,000m (19,680 ft). All three are covered year- round in a white clothing of snow and ice that looked so clean and virgin from the distance of the airport.

All these mountains have been climbed by Incas, without equipment, more than 500 years ago. The Incas considered the mountains gods. If you see them so up close as from Arequipa you will be able to understand why. I did. They are simply impressive. They are divine. The Incas communicated with the gods -- the mountains -- by sacrificing girls on the peaks. 500 year old mummies of the victims have been found on top of Ampato and nearby Picchu Picchu.

My dream of making it to the top of Chachani has been shattered 4 months ago when I lost my hearing in the right ear and the doctors advised me that high altitude and high mountains might not be good for me. The preparations I have done beforehand still sit on my desk and are still in my head.

As we stepped out of the plane I turned north to inhale the views of the volcanoes one more time and to say "Hello" and "Good Bye" to them. Arequipa is nicknamed the "white city" for its custom to paint the houses white. There are things to see in this large city, but without the mountains I wasn't interested in spending time here. We just switched planes right at the airport and got on another flight to Puno/Juliaca.

Puno

We landed at 12,500 ft (3,800m) in Juliaca. This is the Altiplano, the plateau or High Plain. The area between Lake Titicaca, Puno and Cuzco is more or less flat and continuously between 12,500 ft (3,800m) and 13,500 ft (4,000m) high. As you can imagine it is cold, even during daytime, but especially when the sun is gone. The cold gets to you no matter how many layers of clothing you put on. It creeps in and sooner or later it reaches your bones. During daytime the sun is so close that it is extremely strong. It might even warm you up a bit. The UV radiation will burn you and you can see it in the faces of all the locals. The locals all have dark skin and red cheeks and often the kids are peeling from their previous sunburn. It came as no surprise that the first thing we saw after stepping off the airplane in Juliaca were vendors of typical Peruvian woolen hats and gloves.

In Puno we quickly rushed into a hotel to get out of the cold. We took an early evening stroll but cut it short because we were just not used to the cold yet. In the hotel room we used all the blankets there were and below that we used our sleeping bags as well. All of this just to stay warm. A fridge was not necessary in the room. You just placed the item in the bathroom; it was about as cold in there as in a fridge.

Puno has all the charm and features one expects and values in a Peruvian city. As always there is the Plaza de Armas -- the central square, the cathedral, and the outdoor market. Puno has two distinct market areas. One is around the abandoned railroad tracks. Now that I think of it, they are not abandoned, they just look like it. The second one is in the center of town. While it is a nice city it cannot compare with jewels like Cuzco. It is easy to see Puno in two days.

The things I remember most are the hot soups. The cheap restaurants prepared a gigantic pot of soup that lasted for the whole day. The pot was sometimes one yard tall and with a diameter of one yard. It filled a lot of hungry stomachs in one day. It was usually soup with some vegetables thrown in and noodles. You could also order chicken as addition. The chicken was boiled with the soup in the same pot. Depending on your order of soup or soup and chicken the waiter also fished out a piece of chicken from the pot. The whole thing was served in a bowl and it was usually steaming hot, just the way you wanted it at these cold temperatures. Remember than June, July, August are the winter months here.

Once you had filled your stomach with hot soup you moved on to the next food stall in the market. Being addicted to sweet dishes my preferred dessert was freshly made fried dough pieces. I don't know what they were called but they were right on the spot.

But the market was not only for lunch; it was also our traditional place for breakfast. I usually tried to buy some bread and sweet pastry in the bakery and then we strolled through the market visually enjoying the color combinations, the hats of the Peruvian women, and the flowers being sold. We bought some fresh squeezed orange juice from a food stall and ate the bread and pastry from the bakery with it. Thereafter maybe a cup of hot tea.

The most impressing views, however, can't be seen at daytime. It is the night sky. Being so high up, with thin air, little air pollution and hardly any light pollution as there are no big cities anywhere nearby, the night sky over Puno is outstanding and world-class. The stars here are so brilliant that you start wondering about the sky where you live. There is no comparison. There are so many more stars one can see from here and each star shines a lot brighter and with more intensity here. This view is worth freezing for. We didn't have to wait long to see a shooting star, and then another one, and another one. We saw countless shooting stars. I assume that there is the same number of them in the sky over Europe or the US, but there with pollution we just don't see them. Here we made a lot of wishes.

Puno is located in a cultural border. The ancient tongue of Quechua is spoken north of Puno, the equally ancient language of Aymara south of Puno. In Puno itself they have to speak three languages: Spanish, Quechua, Aymara but many people just speak one or two. And there are many people that don't speak Spanish or just a handful of words of Spanish.

In Puno I had to visit the hospital to get one of a sequence of rabies shots. About two weeks ago a stray dog in the central rainforest region of Peru bit me. I had to follow a strict regime of vaccinations to be sure not to get rabies. I had brought with me the vaccine, which was a special new medication and hence only available in Lima. Older medications were found to have brain damage as side effect and while prohibited in Europe and the US these older drugs are still the drug-of-choice in Peru. We went to the hospital and waited in line. Once called, we explained that a dog had bitten me a while ago, that I had consulted doctors beforehand already and that they please inject me with the vaccine that I had brought myself in an ice chest. "Ah, rabies," they said. "We have a specialist for rabies here. You have to see Dr. Whatshecalled." So we went to see the specialist. He said that he could help me and asked me to pull my pants down. All warning bells went off in my head. The new drug had to be administered via injection into the upper arm. The old outlawed drug is a drug that is injected into the butt muscle. Clearly he wanted to inject the old vaccine in my behind, which would not only have the risk of a possible brain damage as side effect but even worse it would destroy the sequence of already started vaccinations that would make the hole vaccination possibly ineffective. I told him that I don't want his drug, that it is not good for me. He was upset and apparently insulted. It was not my intention, but he now informed us that he couldn't help us. We went back to the other side of the hospital and explained the situation again. I even prepared the cocktail of the two medical components that had to be mixed myself and filled the syringe myself so that they only had to inject me. It all went well now.

Lake Titicaca

Lake Titicaca holds many records. Lake Titicaca lies at 12,530 ft (3,820m); it is navigated by large ships, which combined makes it one of the highest navigable lakes in the world. At over 105 miles (170 km) length, it is also the largest lake in South America. The Indians believe that Manco Capac, the first Inca, was born on the Lake Titicaca island called "Island of the Sun" (Isla del Sol). Hence the lake is important to mythology and the Inca religion.

Floating Islands of the Uros

We booked a two-day tour of the lake, which I can highly recommend, but it is not for people with back problems or high living standards, as you will learn. The tour was exclusively by boat. The islands closest to the coastline and closest to Puno are the Islands of the Uros, or also called Floating Islands. The Uros is an Indian tribe that used to live on these islands. The are called "Floating Islands" because in reality they are no islands, they are just large floating reed piles. The trunk of the reed has a lot of air inside which makes it float. If you now pile reeds on reeds until you get one yard of reeds or more than you have a floating mattress strong enough to hold people and simple reed- made huts. These islands have a diameter of maybe 20 yards. And as the reed below the water slowly starts to rot, new reed has to be added on the top continuously every week.

For their fame and their closeness to Puno -- less than 30 minutes by boat -- the Floating Islands of the Uros are a major tourist trap. The Uros don't live here any more. Just like the tourists they come here by boat early in the morning and leave late in the afternoon. They have huts made of reed-mats on the islands but they are just for decoration and to relax and rest during daytime. When they want to rest or take a daytime nap they use their huts. Maybe 20 Indians are on the island. They sell tourist items like small hand-made reed boats, dolls made of reed, colorful Peruvian clothing, hats, and music instruments made of clay that you can use to whistle various tones. My girlfriend bought some of these musical instruments here for her niece and parents. It was a tourist trap nonetheless. I don't like it when people walk up to you and ask if you want to take their picture, for a few coins. Others just sat there waiting patiently to be photographed and paid. The funniest part of all was that they had a small panel of solar cells and the cables running into the hut. I would not be surprised if there were a TV in the shade of the hut.

Amantaní Island (Isla Amantaní)

A few more hours further on by boat we reached Amantaní. In comparison to the Floating Islands of the Uros Amantaní is a stark contrast. Amantaní is a large island, it is also a real island made of rocks with two hills in the center, and there are few visitors on Amantaní. Visitors that want to spend a night or more on the island are randomly assigned a guest family. There are no hotels or other sleeping opportunities. While the island itself is not so small only few people live on it. It is a barren land and a meager living. Most Indians on the island are farmers; the rest lives by making traditional items like clothing and other handicrafts that are sold to tourists. It is rather dry and cold and at 12,600 ft not much seems to be growing on the fields.

There is also not much too see. A few dozen simple houses are spread over the island. Some seem to have electricity while the majority doesn't. Our guest family certainly didn't. In the center of the brown rocky landscape of the island are two hills. They are small hills but at this altitude climbing even small hills is a strenuous exercise. On the way up we passed a crumbling arc that formed a gate, the entrance to a religious center. On top of one hill were the ruins of well-known deity Pachamama (Earth Mother). The second hilltop was crowned with the remnants of a temple for the lesser-known deity Pachatata (Earth Father).

Amantaní is a calm, quiet island. There are no roads, there are no cars, there are no restaurants and beside enjoying the view and relaxing there is not much to do during the daytime. We spent some of the time with our host family. They had a simple home made of concrete, bricks and mud. The parents and their three kids all lived in the same large room that functioned as living, dining and bedroom. On the second floor was the guest room with a table, two chairs, a bed, and a closet. The kitchen was in a separate building where over open fire the woman cooked the meals. There were no windows in the kitchen and the smoke that had painted the walls completely black came through the thatched roof. There was no electricity and no running water. The toilets were in an outhouse 50 yards away, which is quite uncomfortable if at freezing temperature at night your body tells you that you have to pee. Not only do you deal with the cold, but also with the darkness as there are no electricity and no lights anywhere.

The oldest son of our guest family acted as our guide. He brought the water and showed us how to get to the village. At night a celebration was organized on the town square. The locals put on their costumes, their festive dresses and started playing music while marching in circles around the tiny town square. Red is the favorite color of the local costumes. This get-together finished at sunset upon which our guide brought us back to his family. They had prepared a basic hot meal for us. At 9 p.m. it was back to the village again with the boy to participate in a dance. People -- locals and visitors alike -- streamed into this single large room. It was large enough to hold 50 or 60 people. A band of 5 musicians played Peruvian tunes at one end of the room. At the other end, local women started to dance. More locals joined the dance and soon the locals taught the visitors this dance. There were some wooden benches so if the dancing got too much we could rest to catch our breath. The woman I remember most was a middle-aged woman -- maybe in her 50ies -- that didn't miss a single dance. She was robust, not to say heavy, and short like many Peruvian woman. She had chemistry. Without doubt she enjoyed dancing, and she danced quite a bit with the foreigners. She was a popular dance partner by the end of the night. It was also amazing how quickly it got hot in the room. Without heating, but with 50 dancing people it didn't take long and we were sweating.

At some prearranged time when the party was about to end, the guides, mostly young kids, joined us in the dance hall to guide us home in the dark under the star-lit sky. At home, we tried not to break the bed. The bed was less than 6 foot long, so I would fit. I had to lie down diagonally with the feet sticking out on one end. However, the bed was also narrow. With me diagonally there was no room for my girlfriend anymore. Her feet had to be on top of mine. The bed was also so saggy; this was the worst bed I had ever seen in my life. The center of the bed was 12 inches lower than the rest. With this incline, it didn't matter what you did and where you put yourself, you would always end up in the center of the bed, at the bottom of the valley. We couldn't move either. The bed was so fragile that any body movement made the bed lean forward or backward so scarily that I was sure it would fold completely at any moment. As frosting on the cake came the temperatures at freezing point. It was a nightmare of a night. My back hurt so badly, I slept lousily but I could not turn and toss because that would have certainly broken the bed. Was I glad that we only had to spend one night in this bed.

Taquile Island (Isla Taquile)

The next day the tour continued by boat. Not far from Amantaní is Taquile. Think of the famous drink, Tequila, and then swap the first and last vowel and you will never forget the name of this island again. Taquile is very similar to Amantaní. It's the same brown rocky landscape with a hill in the center, with Indian ruins on the hilltop, without streets, and without cars. More tourists visit Taquile than Amantaní, therefore the infrastructure is better here. The main village -- and most likely the only village of the island -- is close to the center of the island. One has to walk from the pier uphill for a couple of miles to reach the village from where there views of Lake Titicaca. In the village are a handful of restaurants and several clothing shops where the people from Taquile sell their famous knitting. Surprisingly it is primarily the men that knit on this island.

One can also spend a night or two on Taquile to enjoy a tranquil life. We didn't. But for the curious it is based on a similar guest family arrangement that we had enjoyed on Amantaní. The whole Lake Titicaca trip, although organized, was a success. We both liked it a lot and the day and night on Amantaní was tastefully organized. If only the bed had been better.

Cuzco

The real gem of the region is without doubt Cuzco: The Inca capital. The first Inca, Manco Capac, the son of the sun, born on the Island of Son in the Titicaca Lake founded Cuzco in the 12th century. Since then it is a place of power and of myths.

Cuzco is also South America's oldest continuously inhabited city. The Incas had no writing but they left a message behind more powerful than books. Huge stonewalls. Four centuries later, in the 16th century, the Spanish came, led by Pizarro and his cohorts. They left churches behind, and books, as well as a lot of dead Incas.

Too much history for you? Once you enter Cuzco, you enter history. You step into a time capsule and you become history. It is the city with the most Inca remains, the city with the most Inca palaces and fortresses; a city dense of Spanish churches, cloisters, royal homes and palaces. How can one not talk about history, feel history, live history here?

The center of the Spanish history is the Plaza de Armas, the central city square. This square not only boasts one church, but two. The Cathedral and the Compañía are here. In addition in less than five minutes walking distance are seven more churches: La Merced, San Francisco, San Blas, Santa Teresa, Santo Domingo, San Cristobal and Nazarenas. Then there are convents like Santa Catalina. Despite all the killing the Spaniards of the 16th century must have been very religious people. They were certainly busy constructing all of these churches. It comes as no surprise that they recycled rocks from Inca temples to build theirs.

The Inca history can also be found right in the city of Cuzco. Any large block of rock that is used in the street or the foundation or walls of the houses has with near certainty been cut, carried and worked by the Incas. Most of the precious Inca temples have been recycled to speed up the Spanish construction effort. The base of the Santo Domingo Church was once the richest Inca temple. It is said to have had walls lined with 3,000 pounds (1,400 kg) of pure gold, many solid gold statues, golden ceremonial instruments, etc. Let your fantasy play. This was Coricancha (Qoricancha), the Golden Courtyard of the Incas. Now a lot of it is the floor of a Spanish colonial church. Some walls and a few chambers from the former Inca temple remain in their original structural state.

Besides architecture and history Cuzco is also a good place for shopping. We did pretty much do our entire souvenir shopping here. Above all we bought clothing, sweaters, blankets, and I still have a pair of black pants with Inca colored pockets in my closet today.

While certain streets surrounding the Plaza de Armas are heavily frequented by tourists -- to the point where one street is nicknamed "Gringo Avenue" -- there is still plenty of the untouched Cuzco left where people only speak Quechua. While strolling through the back streets of Cuzco I heard some music and loud noise coming from a dark hallway. We stopped and we stepped a bit closer. It was just a dark, 10-yard long hallway without light or anything. The ground was uneven and maybe wet. At the end was a door that was a crack open. The music got louder as we stepped closer. Still not knowing what to expect I peeked in through the slightly open door. A bunch of men were sitting on benching drinking from large jugs. This was obviously a bar. We opened the door and stepped in. We stood in the doorframe for a moment just to see what their reaction would be. Maybe we were not welcome here. It was wise to wait and see. Their reaction was positive. Most didn't care, some looked strange at my girlfriend and the guy who was obviously the barkeeper invited us in with a gesture.

We stepped into the bar completely. The benches were pretty full. There was not a single bench free. The guy had two large containers and with a plastic container poured the liquid into the jugs of the customer. There seemed to be only two types of drinks. Whatever it was, one was red, the other white with a touch of yellow. I spoke to the waiter and asked him what drink this is. He gave me some name and I had no idea what he said or what it is. I asked him if this is alcohol. A rather stupid question, but one never knows. To my surprise he said "No". That was funny, a room full of men all drinking this liquid and it is not alcohol. That was hard to believe. I asked the waiter again "There is no alcohol in this drink?" He replied again with a "No". Well we order two. He asked us which one. We said, "The red one". We sat down on a table with some locals. The waiter brought us two jugs of this unknown drink. I tried it and it was clearly alcohol. To the day I don't know what it was, but without doubt it was fermented. When the waiter walked by I told him, "Hey, this stuff does have alcohol". He plainly responded, "Yes, but just a little". Now I had two reasons not to drink this brew. First because of my liver problems I shouldn't be drinking alcohol and secondly it didn't taste good. Let's say that our taste buds are not used to this flavor.

We gave one of the full jugs to our tablemate who gladly accepted it. The second we shared between ourselves and we were not able to finish it. Our new-won friend was native Quechua speaker, but he also spoke some Spanish. I was not able to understand much, but without being able to communicate verbally I understood that he was in a good mood, that he was already partially drunk, that he didn't dislike the Spanish, that he was rather impressed or maybe envious of the modern Spanish society. He had terrible teeth. Most like he was poor and was never to the dentist. His breath smelled like he had drunken a few of these drinks already before we entered the bar. It was a unique water hole. The radio was playing loud Peruvian music and as far as I can remember my girlfriend was the only woman in the bar, not counting the half naked women on the posters on the wall.

Another interesting place was where we had dinner one night. It was some small local restaurant nor far from the train station. It was cheap. I don't recall the exact price. But it was somewhere around $1 to $2 for a 4 course meal. We had these 4-course dinners many times before. That usually meant: a coup of soup, a bowl of noodles, some small pudding-like desert and a cup of mate de coca. We had it so often and it was usually always the same. Hence my girlfriend wanted something else. She ordered chicken. I went with the standard dinner as always. We sat down on one of the tables. It was a small restaurant. It consisted of only one room, that held four tiny tables of which we were occupying one. On a wall rack was a TV, and it was on of course and everybody was watching it. There was a door to the street where we had entered and there was a door to the side. Obviously behind there was the kitchen. It looked like the kitchen was out in the open, in the yard so to speak, or maybe it just didn't have a roof. Talking about roofs, the roof in the restaurant was also a one-of-a-kind. It was a mix of straw, plastic sheets and shingles. Next to the door that led to the open, to the kitchen that is, was a tiny wooden bar where some cutlery, salt and pepper was lying around.

After my girlfriend had placed her order, the waiter left and a minute later his wife came in from the side door with a live chicken in a plastic bag. She crouched down behind the bar, then there were some "gack, gack" noises and thereafter silence. The bar was open to our side. Her long bulky skirts were in the way, but more or less we could see what she was doing. It all went so rapidly, from entering the door with a live chicken to standing at the bar plucking the animal a mere 30 seconds passed. Was there not the bloodstain on the floor I might have thought that I have imagined something. That is what I call a good restaurant. You order something, and it is made freshly for you. You order chicken and the kill the chicken right in front of your eyes. It was done in a very rapid and discreet way though, I don't think she wanted us to see it. And yes, my girlfriend said that the chicken tasted good.

Nearby Cuzco -- Sacsayhuamán

Within walking distance from Cuzco are four Inca ruins: Sacsayhuamán, Qenko, Puca Pucara and Tambo Machay. One can see them all in one single day if necessary. We actually managed to walk the complete distance giving us also a chance to see some of the neighboring landscape and the rural areas around Cuzco.

Sacsayhuamán is the nearest and the most impressive Inca ruin of the four. It is a defensive structure that had seen action against the Spaniards. The name is also easy to remember, just think of "sexy woman".

If you have seen pictures of Inca ruins before, you might have seen large boulders of rocks shaped so perfectly and placed on top of each other that you can't stick a knife into the joint. These pictures have most likely been made here. It is fantastic. Many of the stones are so heavy here the Spaniard saw it as to difficult to reuse them in their new buildings. For that reason the largest rocks have survived. The heaviest stones that have been worked and placed on others weigh an unbelievable 300 tons. That's the weight of about 150 Ford Explorers in a single rock. Try lifting that and placing it perfectly on top of other rocks. I think we have still not discovered how they were able to do it 500 years ago. It might remain a secret forever.

The main fortification is a multi-level zigzag wall. Behind it 5,000 Incas defended the structure. Most of them died when Pizarro razzed the place as best as he could.

Not far from the ruins on a hill overlooking the city of Cuzco is a modern white statue of Jesus with his arms opened wide. It looks like a miniature version of the Jesus statue on Corcovado in Rio de Janeiro.

Nearby Cuzco -- Qenko

The Qenko ruins are much smaller scale than the one in Sacsayhuamán. Qenko was most likely only a religious site, with no or little defensive functions. The rocks used here are partially different as well. Some of the rocks used here are limestone. On the outside of Qenko is a large upright flattened rock with many carvings. Several tunnels lead underground to what is believed are ceremony rooms. There are few walls here to see, the primary attention are the tunnels.

Nearby Cuzco -- Puca Pucara

Puca Pucara means "red fort" and gets its name from the red rocks used to build it. The rocks are actually not red, they are brown with a reddish touch. In comparison to the gray rocks used at the other three ruins, these appear a lot redder. From the distance it can be seen already that Puca Pucara had a military purpose. It has a more or less rectangular floor plan and it is located so that it can look over one of the valleys and the following plane. It is a dominating position allowing control and large visibility. The rocks used to build the fortress are small in comparison to Sacsayhuamán. Also the craftsmanship here is no as high. It must have been less important under Inca times or they were in a hurry when they constructed it. In comparison to Sacsayhuamán it is outright sloppy. It is sufficiently large though so you can find a spot for yourself, to sit down, relax, enjoy the views without disturbances.

Nearby Cuzco -- Tambo Machay

Tambo Machay are ruins with a religious character. The centerpiece is a stone structure of four levels. The top two levels have large trapezoid niches. The lower two levels form a ceremonial fountain. Even today the water is flowing through the Inca made channels here forming a one-stream fountain on the second level and a two-stream fountain on the bottom level. A rock pool catches the water here. We climbed to the top of these 4 levels. From the top level one can see the nearby ruins of Puca Pucara.

Machu Picchu

With the Spaniards killing the Inca rulers and hunting the new ones down, the Incan royalty that was left had to flee Cuzco and its vicinity. They fled to their Andes mountain escape, they fled to Machu Picchu. At least this is one of the theories. The sacred Inca city deep in the Andes is a must-see for everybody. You can read about our experiences there in the trip report about the Inca Trail.

The Return

Having taken the plane from Lima to Puno, we wanted to return by a different means of transportation; to experience it all so-to-speak. We decided to take the bus back from Cuzco to Lima. We booked two seats on the express bus that was supposed to take 20 hours for the distance. It scheduled departure was 10 p.m. and it estimated arrival at 6 p.m. the following day. That didn't sound scary to me. We were at the bus station in Cuszo early, just in case. We left very punctually, by 10:15 p.m. we were on our way. We drove through dark, poorly lit back streets of Cuzco. Few people were in the streets at this time. The bus was full, all seats were taken and an additional few people were sitting in the aisle. The luggage racks were full too and the majority of the luggage was on the roof.

Within minutes of the departure the driver turned the light inside the bus off and also turned the music off upon requests from the passengers. It was dark and the seats were relatively comfortable. It didn't take long and I fell asleep. I registered that we stopped once and some women stepped outside to pee. The wind was chilly and it was a lot more pleasant inside the bus than outside. The next I remember was that it was morning already. For a morning cat shower and breakfast we stopped in a village at a restaurant. People could wash themselves in the backyard while on the inside hot breakfast was served. Now I had time to admire our bus. It was a regular, green bus, a Volvo, with maybe five years of service. "Expreso Wari" was written in large letters on it. Locals came to offer their good to the travelers. That was a good opportunity for us to buy munchies: bread, a loaf of cheese, and a bag of cookies.

The bus ride continued during daytime. The breakfast stop was only 30 minutes and we didn't make a lunch stop. I was sleeping most of the time, waking up, falling in half-sleep again. The landscape was not too fascinating to keep me awake. Brown desert was the majority that could be seen from the driving bus. In the afternoon, suddenly we stopped in the middle of nowhere. We all had to get off the bus. Which was a pleasant opportunity to stretch ones legs and walk a round a bit. Looks like there was a tire problem. I didn't worry too much. In half an hour it was fixed and we were on the road again. I was still comfortable in the seat, but I started to think. We already had spent 17 hours on this journey. It is supposed to take 20 hours to Lima, but we were still very far away from Lima. How is that possible? There were no major slow down. There were no traffic jams, no police controls, no stops except for the 30-minute stop to fix a tire. So how could it be that we are still so far away from Lima? I couldn't quite understand it. Maybe the roads are a lot better closer to Lima and we will be driving a lot faster now, I told myself. Time passed and at 6 p.m. when we were supposed to arrive in Lima we were still hundreds of miles away from Lima.

To make a long story short, without any obvious reason the trip that was supposed to last 20 hours took 32 hours. We left one night and on the second day later we arrived in the morning. The sun was already up in Lima when we finally drove into the bus station. It was a long journey, but it wasn't bad at all. My behind was still comfortable and the 32 hours had passed a lot faster than expected. I would be ready to do it again.

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Travel with Manfred