My Way Is The Highway

Puno to Cusco aboard the Andean Explorer

26th September 2008, Wednesday (Day 5)

We bade our good friend Juan good bye at the Puno PeruRail station, stuffed his pockets with enough Sols to compensate for Vijay's Spanish and boarded the train acquired recently by Orient Express.

The Victorian splendor hung in the air, added to the fact that we were the only non-Caucasians in the coach - had it not been for software, the only way we could get here is by waiting on the tables.

The big photograph on the right tells the story. Five star sitting quarters. A bar coach. A kitchen coach. Large windows desperately trying to frame Andean landscape whizzing past.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Books. Zune. Chessboard. Camera. We read. We played. We dozed. We drank Pisco Sour. We ate the well cooked, well presented, well served courses. We drank cocoa tea. Talk about old fashioned vacations !

 

 

 

Rhea took to the responsibility of being the only child on the train quite effortlessly . She climbed into the most atrocious of places, giving the heavy duty lenses in the locomotive a much more attractive target than the usual flora and fauna.

 

 

 

 

Then the music arrived. The glasses were refilled. it was a good day at office. 

Cusco breathed in. We were sad to leave.

 

But then, one step more closer to the fabled Lost City.

**

Sacred Valley Tour Cusco

September 27th (Day 8), Hotel Taypikala Cusco

We woke up in the morning with no apparent symptoms of altitude sickness. Our guide was waiting for us - by the time we had wrapped up our breakfast - and then she did it to us. I wonder how we did not see it coming. All tourist guides have some kind of an arrangement with a semi-entertainment-semi-commercial establishments where they "take" you sometime during the day. It happened to us right at the beginning and come to think of it, was not too bad.

The cottage industry showed us the difference between Alpacas and Llamas, allowed us to feed and ride the Alpacas, got us to get our hands dirty dying wool and showed the knitting skills of native women. It gave us some fabulous photo opportunities  and we escaped without buying anything.  So I guess, we took them.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cusco is often looked at as a mere launching pad to Machu Picchu as people are too eager to get on that train. I strongly suggest you spend a minimum of two days here. We opted for the Pisac ruins especially since it is Thursday today.

Pisac Ruins

A serpentine road along Rio Urubamba is laced with mountains wearing ancient agricultural terraces - an ingenious way to create flat plantable land out of otherwise tumbling slopes.   Pisac is definitely not a fortress. Terraces for growing food, citadel, an astronomical site for measuring season, a cemetery in the cliff side, at most this is a fall back place in times of a siege. The Pisac ruins are firmly entrenched in my mind for a totally different reason. As we walked the trails, we were followed by a native selling Peruvian flutes. For the duration of our stay there, he stayed within an earshot, invisible, playing a haunting melody. The music added a dimension to the place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is Tantana Marka. The holes in the cliff is where Inka have buried their dead in the hills. This is the largest cemetery in Peru and has not been excavated at all. 

The cemetery is on a different hill and requires quite a hike to reach. We skipped it. For another day.

 

We then headed to the Pisac village

**

The Pisac Market

12:00 PM  27th September 2007 Pisac

Besides the extremely photogenic Machu Picchu, Pisac is how I had expected Peru to me.

Warm. Colorful. Noisy. Alive. Untouched. Non commercialized.

The Pisac market is all that. The market is open three times a week. Tuesdays , Thursdays and Sundays. We were there on a Thursday,  so we can only imagine what the market must be on the big-day Sundays

Native and traveling artisans selling baby alpaca cardigans and throws, vivid edible colors, soccer jerseys, sleek and grotesque souvenirs alike, coins, horse saddles, animals, exotic birds, roadside food, musical instruments. Everything goes. The hubub of the place would put a downtown Manhattan discotheque to shame. And nowhere as costly. Remember, the bargaining only starts as the sun tilts towards the south-western horizon. Peruvians otherwise do not bargain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rhea was ecstatic to find a guinea pig shop. The Askis and Shinde's brought trinkets by dozens. Rhea found herself a piece of ferrite to buy.

 

By 2:00 PM, we settled down in a hole in the wall with some hearty soup, well made potatoes and a tall glass of Chicha.

Bliss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

Next stop Ollantaytambo.