Christmas in Cusco

Cusco is a magical city. Nestled about 3 500 metres above sea level, it combines old with new; narrow cobbled streets, ancient architecture and mostly friendly Peruvians. For all its quaintness, there are a lot of exceptionally poor Peruvians, who eak a living out of begging. Children are taught to beg from an early age and it is common to see kids as young as four peddling goods on the streets.

On the eve of Christmas, Cusco's main square is a crazy site. A huge market is held on the 24th and 25th and villagers, who normally stay up in the mountain, spend the night on the streets in hope of securing the best spot to sell their wares.

The market, which sells goods for next to nothing prices, is a sight to be seen. Skinned Guinea Pig, beautiful hand woven bags, exquisite jewellery are some of the items on sale. I spoilt myself with a gorgeous pair of earrings that cost a grand total of R6.

Casa de la Gringa, the hostel where we have been staying for the past four nights is owned and run by a South African, new age hippy called Lesley, who has angel wings tattooed on her back and must be in her 50’s. A chain smoker and cat lover, Lesley also owns a restaurant called Mandela’s in Cusco’s main square. This is where we celebrated Christmas Eve with a group of matriculants, who are travelling around South America as part of a school tour. We had a festive and fun evening, even though the food was served two hours late and was freezing cold.

Lesley is an avid promoter of the San Pedro cactus plant, which is known for its “incredible healing powers”. For $60 a pop, it is offered to those who need to get in touch with their emotional being through a journey that lasts about eight hours. Nikki and I decided to give the journey a miss and spent our time and money on delicious warm food and red wine at Jack’s restaurant instead – a much safer bet.

Casa de la Gringa is a lovely spot, which is relatively clean and well maintained. We are sharing a double room for a about R70 each a night. I’m staying in the top bunk and am woken every morning by the sun streaming through a skylight, which is strategically placed right above my bed.

The group of matriculants, that we met up with by chance, are staying in the same hostel. They are a sweet bunch, relatively well behaved and for most of them, it was their first Christmas away from home, so they were all feeling a bit miserable on Christmas Day and getting a bit nervous about their results, which come out on the 28th.

Together with their teacher, Lionel, they headed out to the jungle earlier this morning and will be back in time for the New Year’s party in Cusco – a trance party. Couldn’t think of anything worse and super glad I’ll be in La Paz, if my visa comes through, but they seem to be getting excited about it.

Christmas Eve is the most important event in Peru and after dinner, we went off to a club called Down Town for a bit of a salsa shake up. The club had organised a collection box for the street kids, who had spent the night sleeping in the square and Nikki and I momentarily considered getting up at 5am on Christmas Day to hand out warm food and drinks. We ended up donating money instead, a more sensible and realistic option.

Christmas Day was a lazy day, spent napping and eating and then napping and eating some more. A rather pleasant day actually.

We depart for Puno tomorrow, where hopefully the visa issue will be sorted out and we can make our way through to Lake Titicaca and La Paz as soon as possible.

Feliz Navidad - Merry Christmas

Wishing you an awesome Christmas and New Year from a freezing cold and raining Cusco, Peru.

Never been so high

Muscles aching, in dire need of a hot shower and a good scrub, the Inca Trail, one of the most physically challenging hikes I have ever attempted, actually, the first hike I have ever attempted, is spectacular. Four days of hard core trekking at 5000 metres above sea level, in severe weather conditions, is tough.

Armed with my day pack, coca leaves and camera, a group of 11 trekkers, including myself, set off with Percy our tour guide, who has completed the trail more than 400 times over the past two years. I suspect Percy may have been fond of the odd tipple and on the first day, which was relatively hot, he gulped down about a litre of a potent home made brew, called corn beer, at lunch time. It was impressive watching him weave his way up the trail.

Porters, who come from the surrounding farm areas, are hired to carry back packs, camping equipment, cooking paraphernalia and food for the four day trek. They ensure the camp sites are set up, the meals, which consisted of top quality three course fare (with the odd hair found here and there), are ready, that there is hot water for you to wash your face in the morning and that everything runs smoothly.

They operate like an ant colony; carrying loads much bigger than themselves and never stopping to rest. It is a bit embarrassing watching them run past you, while you huff and puff and curse under your breath, as you battle your way up the trail, in their skimpy sandals with a minimum of 25kgs loaded on their backs. To give you an idea of their fitness levels, the average porter is able to complete the entire four day trek in less than four hours and that’s with a heavy load on his back.

My group consisted of mostly Americans and Canadians, two Dutch girls and a British woman. They were pleasant enough and by the end of the trail we had all formed quite a strong bond, as one does after four days of sweat and toil, limited washing facilities, shared sleeping arrangements and delightful squat toilet experiences.

The Americans are a unique lot, for example, there was a guy from Kansas who booked the trail months in advance and then forgot to pack hiking gear and as a result had to rent boots, cargo pants and a sleeping bag – one can only imagine the foot fungi he picked up. There was also the Californian cheerleader, who flaked almost the first minute into the trek, but more about her later.

The trail itself isn’t particularly difficult, 40kms over four days, but the altitude plays havoc with your lungs. The higher you get, and I’m not referring to the coca leaves here, which I gave up on due to their vile taste, the more breathless you become. By the time you get to Dead Woman’s pass, the highest point of the trail, it feels like your lungs are about to explode.

While the incline was tough, the decline is definitely the most difficult part of the trail. The steps going down are exceptionally steep and slippery due to heavy and constant rain and it is jarring and painful on your knees. I had a few arse about face moments, but luckily no major injuries and no one to capture my falls.

At no point, however, did I feel that the trail was impossible and that I wouldn’t be able to complete it. In fact, I was surprised by my own level of fitness. From day one, the group split in two, the fit group and the hopelessly unfit group. I surprisingly was always in the fit group and we managed to finish at least an hour ahead of schedule for our tea and lunch breaks, even Percy was impressed.

Altitude sickness has a lot to do with how well you manage the trail and I was fortunate not to be affected by it. I may have had a small bout of it one evening when I woke up with a stomach cramp and feeling nauseous, but it subsided very quickly, after I took a few ginger tablets, and I was fine the next day.

Winter is the best time of year to do the trail. During the rainy season, which is now, cloud cover often limits the scenic views. Even though it is summer at the moment, temperatures often fall to below zero at night time and the days are chilly.

At the best of times, camping isn’t a favourite past time of mine and by day four, all desire to be at one with the great outdoors had ceased. Everything was soaked and the tents had taken on a distinct smelly sock smell.

Day four of the trail began with an early 4am start to get to Machu Picchu in time to catch God’s Window, a spectacular site, where the sun rises in amongst the Inca ruins. Unfortunately, heavy rain and thick fog blocked out any views and we missed out on what is supposed to be the ultimate experience of the trail.

Feeling disheartened we made our way down to the ancient city of Machu Pichu, a very sacred and special place, with the Californian cheerleader, who had perked up considerably by this time, singing cheerleading songs at full volume. How I wished for a spare sock.

The fog eventually cleared and the rain miraculously stopped, to reveal Machu Picchu in its full glory. Discovered in the early 1900’s, the ruins are an incredible site and a just reward for the four day trek.

Achey and tired, I made my way by bus to a small town at the bottom of Machu Picchu called Augas Calientes, where dear Paula, my Argentinian tour guide, had booked me a two hour massage and reiki session – it was bliss!

After spending the day roaming around Augas Calientes, a very quaint town, which relies entirely on tourism, we made our way back by train to Cusco, where I met up with Nikki. We will be in Cusco for Christmas and then make our way to Puno to sort out my visa for Bolivia, which is turning into a bit of a nightmare. I’m not sure yet if I will be able to get into Bolivia, which is a bit of concern as I am supposed to be flying out of La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, on 6 January.

Promise to keep you posted.

Bev versus the Amazon

Highlights of the jungle:

• Walking through the rain forest in Wellington boots
• Climbing a 120 metre high tower to see panoramic views of the Amazon
• Fishing for and catching a Piranha
• Lazing in a hammock, listening to the rain and soaking in the heat

The decision to pack away my stilettos in exchange for the great outdoors is proving to be a worthwhile and necessary investment. I have been travelling for just under a week and already I have no sense of time or date.

Joined by a few Americans, a Canadian and an Australian couple, Paula (pronounced Powel-la) our Argentinean tour guide, lead us into the jungle. After countless delays and airport closures in Cusco, due to bad weather, our flight eventually landed in Puerto Moldonado. From the base camp, we were bussed to the Amazon River and then canoed to our eco-friendly, no electricity, jungle lodge. Made from indigenous wood and plants, the lodge is very similar to what you would find in the Kruger Park, it even came with the mosquitoes, which had a right feast of me last night.

The camp, although basic, was awesome. Each room is equipped with a hammock, a hand made shower, which only has cold water and huge open windows, which look on to the dense Amazon forest.

Our first adventure was to hike and climb a 120 metre high tower. Ignoring my vertigo, I bravely climbed the very shaky tower. The views were nothing short of incredible; the Amazon forest is thick with flora and fauna. And as the light changes, it feels like you’re looking through a kaleidoscope.

We were woken at 4am the next morning, for a catamaran trip on a lake in the middle of the rain forest. This is where I caught my Piranha. Okay, it was just a baby and not as fearsome as the ones in Jaws, however its teeth were sharp and the mere fact that it was a Piranha makes the experience worthy of a mention. The excitement of the boat trip, coupled with the early morning start, left me rather exhausted and a long nap in a hammock was in order.

After lazing around for most of the morning and then filling up on a generous portion of lunch a trip to the Shaman’s medicinal garden was next on our agenda. As one of the most revered leaders in the community, the Shaman is believed to be a sacred being. His knowledge and application of non-western medicine is extensive. A large portion of the plants found in the rain forest are used for medicinal purposes, there is a cure for everything; from Parkinson’s to cancer, for impotence and love remedies. At the end of the tour, each of us were given a love shot, which is a sticky, very sweet, thick liquid drink. It apparently is meant to set the wheels of love in motion, needless to say, I’m still waiting.

My roomate and I were moved to another less noisy, bug invested room, after an unfortunate incident where bats relieved themselves all over Anne's luggage. Imagine being in the middle of the Amazon with no electricity and open windows with all sorts of creatures running riot in your bedroom. It was Blair Witch Project stuff – very scary! Not to mention the over zealous security guard who propositioned himself to Anne and me, now that actually was a bit of a laugh.

The jungle adventure came to an end far too soon and we were up bright and early for our trek back to the airport for Cusco. Thankfully the weather had cleared up and the airport had been reopened.

Cusco is an incredible city, I feel as I have been transported back 1000 years. The foundations of the town have been built on the original Inca ruins and the city itself is really beautiful and full of short, little Peruvians – I feel like a giant.

Up early again tomorrow for the start of my four day Inca trail hike, only two of us from the group have dared to tread the trail. I am feeling a bit nervous about the trek, but not out of my depths, it is going to be tough and challenging but life changing as well and I’m looking forward to that. See you on the other side…

Overwhelmed but not conquered

Not sure how I got it right, but arrived at the airport with time to spare and just as well for that. My flight, unbeknownst to me had been scheduled to leave two hours earlier than originally stipulated and I literally made it with seconds to spare before bookings were closed. I was ushered through customs by security, in I would like to think, the same manner offered to that of a diplomat. Managed to miss a mile long international departures queue, only to find that my plane had been delayed by an hour anyway!

Praise must go to LAM Air, an entirely more pleasant flight than SAA – you even get stainless steal cutlery to eat with and actual glasses to drink from, none of that plastic stuff. Must admit, it did cross my mind to pocket the cutlery, who knows, it may have come to use while camping but eventually, I decided against it.

Juan, the shorter than me, Peruvian cab driver, was on time to fetch me and I was whizzed off in a beat-up little Mazda, with the sounds of Michael Jackson blaring out of his speakers, accompanied by a bopping toy dog on the dashboard, except his was a lion, but it pretty much did the same thing.

Arrived past midnight at the smelly, R50 a night, Hotel Espania. Not sure what I would have done without my sleeping bag and blow-up pillow, everything was smelly and I’m not sure when the place was given a proper scrub. I was too scared to venture down to the dark and dingy communal bathrooms and opted instead to go to bed unwashed. At least I had the good sense to book a single, private room, don’t think I’m brave enough yet to share a room with ten other smelly back packers.

Met up with an Israeli tour guide who has been hiking around Peru for the past six weeks and we went off to find breakfast – the biggest bowl of fruit salad I have ever seen! Of interest to mention here; Peruvians seem to have a thing for change. They deny having any, even if you can hear it changling in their pockets. Somehow they have come to believe, that if they don’t have change, the tourist will give in and give them whatever money they have. After endless haggling over the breakfast bill, the amount was eventually settled - after we had to go off to find the correct change.

Breakfast with Yoel was pleasant enough, in fact I think I took it remarkably well when he asked my age and then promptly went on to tell me that I was a bit too old to be wondering off the beaten track so to speak – I didn’t dare tell him that I was soon to be even older in just over a month – hmmph, the youth of today!

After spending the better part of my day loading my blog and setting up flickr.com, I made my way, with yet another dilapidated taxi to the Faracona Grand Hotel, the first stop over of my ten day, Peru tour. It could be Five Star in comparison to where I have been staying, in fact I feel almost remorseful to venture out of its air-conditioned interior – nothing like clean, unsmelly sheets…

Am most pleased at this point in time that I chose the comfort trip as opposed to the original, which was somewhat cheaper and more rustic.

She has landed

Ola! After a relatively un-adventurous flight, bar the guy I sat next to, who had bad BO – this was further aggravated when he decided to peel off his socks – eeeeeeeuh, I arrived safe and sound, with my impressive 13kg load, all still in tact, in Sao Paulo, Brazil.

While I was grateful for the Portuguese I had picked up in Mozambique in December last year, I quickly realised, that ola and obrigado, could only get me so far. Language and my inability to speak Portuguese and Spanish, will I suspect, prove to be my biggest difficulty. However armed with my Portuguese/English dictionary and my Spanish phrase book, coupled with my natural charm, I feel confident that I will win my way into the hearts of all those I meet.

My first two nights were spent at Pousada Dona Zilah, a very quaint little place in the heart of Jardine Paulista, one of the wealthiest areas in Sao Paulo. With its sparse furnishing, dodgy electric cables and cold showers, I was grateful to have a room to myself.

As luck would have it, or maybe it’s my natural ability to sniff out retail therapy hotspots, the first area I found, was a street lined with exclusive, designer shops. Likened to Rodeo Drive, one thing is for certain, the chances of finding a bargain in this area, are zero. After holding back with much restraint, I returned to my hotel, feeling somewhat disheartened.

Fortunately the hotel was able to make a few last minute calls and Fred, the part time musician, part time tour guide and part time jack of all trades, was able to come to my rescue. Despite having other commitments, Fred met up with me for a quick espresso and pointed me, armed with a map, towards a few hot spots in Sao Paulo.

The metro is super-user friendly and I was able to get myself from A to Z with relative ease. My first stop was in area called Barra Funda, where I found the memorial to Latin America. An area of wide-open spaces and huge concrete buildings, it gave an insight into the history of Brazil. After spending about an hour wondering around, I set off for my next stop, the Itau Cultural centre, which is in Sao Paulo’s famous Paulista Avenue; likened to Wall Street, this area is where all the major deals are signed and sealed.

The exhibition, which was titled, self-portrait and spread over four floors, appeared to be themed around blood, drugs and masochistic sex. Needless to say, I left the building feeling somewhat disturbed but definitely enlightened...

After getting lost, only a few times, I made my way back to my Poussada to grab my companion for the evening, an old and trusted Marion Keyes novel and I set off to find somewhere to eat. After browsing through an all Portuguese menu, I settled on the delicious looking salad that the table next to me was having.

Compliments of the restaurant, I was given a platter of breads, tomato tapenade, aubergines and garlic drenched olives - and my main meal was yet to arrive! I’m not really too sure what I ate, lettuce, rocket and tomato were definitely involved, then imagine a mixture of tinned white asparagus, with the texture of an artichoke but as large as a leek and you’re kind of sort of there. Eating solo is interesting, if it hadn’t been for Marion and a table with two Americans, who I admittedly listened in on their conversation, I might have felt rather lonely.

After sound night’s sleep, I set off to explore a bit more of Sao Paulo. Built by a very rich chap and with the intention of showing off the best views of Sao Paulo, the Museum of Modern Art is a spectacular building, which showcases the best of Brazil’s art, from 14th Century paintings to 21st Century photos.

After spending a good part of my day on my own, Fred the tour guide managed to free up his diary and took me down town. An area steeped in history, down town has a number of beautiful churches and magnificent buildings. The architecture ranges from modern to old and the views of Sao Paulo are awesome – especially when looking down from the top of a 36 floor building. The down town trip is one of my highlights so far, I ate fried coconut, took incredible photos and saw a part of Sao Paulo that not many tourists see.

Thanks go to Fred, for not only showing me the real Sao Paulo, but for also hooking me up with a cheap bus trip to the airport. I paid a smidgen of the price offered by my poussada! I suspect I may have been ripped off quite a number of times already.

Here ends my trip to Sao Paulo and civilisation as I know it. By the time you hear from me next, I will have canoed up the Amazon and will be about to embark on my four day hike up the Inca Trail – this is definitely going to be my biggest challenge of my trip.

To boot

The enormity of my brave and dare I admit it, somewhat un-researched decision to do the four day Inca Trail Hike is starting to cause a degree of concern - all 13 776 feet of concern.

Feet being the operative here - tried out my new uber unglamorous hiking boots on Sunday for a brisk 5km fun-walk around Emmarentia Dam. The blisters were threatening and I was stiff – must be the extra weight of the boots, not my general lack of fitness.

Everything seems to be on track for Tuesday’s departure, have invested in a four giga byte Ipod, which I still have to load with sound (and learn how to operate), a power shot digital camera and I have confirmed accommodation at the following places so far – check out these websites, they should give you a basic idea of the where, what, how and hopefully I’ll be able to provide the why when I get back in February:

Brazil - Sao Paulo:
http://www.zilah.com/ingles/index_ingles.htm
(12 and 13 December)
Peru - Lima:
http://www.hotelespanaperu.com/ingles/
(14 December and a grand R50 for a single room, shared bathroom, although I might upgrade to my own private ablution space)
Argentina: Buenos Aires:
http://www.chelulu.com/
(on 6 and 7 January – I’m booked to stay in a room called the Ranch…)

The rest of my travels are either with a tour group and I’m not too sure of the exact details or with my friend Nikki – if all goes according to plan, we’ll be in La Paz, Bolivia, one of the highest points in the world, to see in the New Year.

The beginnings

Like a bull in a China shop, I could liken my experience pretty much to a kougel in a camping shop - clueless! Nevertheless, I managed to pull myself towards myself and feel adequately equipped to take on the great unknown, First Aid kit and all. From Brazil to Bolivia, I'm anticipating a never to be forgotten journey, which will be shared, (with a few edits here and there) with my friends and family. I hope you enjoy the journey, as I canoe through the Amazon, hike 5000 feet to discover the wonders of the Incas, 4x4 through the Salt Lakes, shop up a storm in Buenos Aires – and that’s only the beginning! Eight sleeps and counting, it’s bound to be entertaining.