Good morning from Cuzco, gateway to Machu Picchu . 

My overnight Flores Imperial Bus arrived at 11:00 after a tiring fourteen hour journey from Nazca. I had hoped to find a way to make the trip during daylight hours, but my most determined search found only the prearranged package tour buses with no new passengers allowed in Nazca. I knew the long ride would be tiring and wisely invested in tickets for two $18 seats in the hope the extra room might make it tolerable.  

The first seven hours of that dash through the night could have been an "E" ticket ride at Disneyland ! Twisting, turning, jerking up and down, back and forth made sleep impossible. In fact, staying in the seat challenged my determination not to spend the night sliding up and down the floor of the isle. The experience makes me more determined to consider one of the luxury organized tours like those offered by the Movil Tour Group for such itineraries in the future.   

When dawn announced itself around 06:30 an hour short of the larger town Abancay, we finally stopped for a rest at Chalhuanca, a wide place in the road with a half dozen refreshment stands, hastily positioned push carts, dusty little mom and pop stores and one dark dingy place that claimed to be a restaurant where we were offered only coffee... which I declined. Toilet facilities consisted of walking behind one of the buildings. Looking back I think the main reason for stopping might have been to change drivers, the passenger's needs being secondary. The last half of the trip up the mountain to Cuzco took us along a river through some spectacular canyons. Here and there on level plots were adobe farm houses with early risers already busy at daily chores. Wild horses, donkeys, pigs, cows, sheep and the occasional Indian tending them augmented the splendor of steep cliffs along the road.  

We arrived breathlessly at the Terminal Terrestre in Cuzco Peru shortly after noon and a half dozen "helpful" ladies offered to show me the best hotels in town. One gave me a map of the city with clear markings for the hotel she represented. Having only the vaguest idea where we were, tired from a sleepless night, gasping for air and hungry, I eagerly walked a block away from the touts and grabbed a cab. "Plaza de Armas?" I questioned the cab driver. "Dos Soles" he replied without a blink. That interchange served as my introduction to the completely honest cab drivers of Cuzco . Most rides were two Soles, about sixty cents and drivers always volunteered fare information. Amazing! 

My earlier search of the Internet found a description of the boutique hotel, Casa San Blas and I immediately made inquiries of the locals when I reached the central plaza. Off the Plaza de Armas and three blocks up a steep cobblestone road not wide enough for an American SUV, nor anyone terribly overweight I hobbled dodging other pedestrians on the narrow sidewalk and determined vehicles squeezing their way down the tight lane. The knee is much improved, but clearly is not ready even for Cuzco hill climbing. Anxious to get a shower and some real food after that fourteen hour bus marathon I checked into the Casa San Blas hotel. Unfortunately, the next morning a bad case of travelers diarrhea hit me. I've had two bouts with food poisoning during the last week or so; earlier with staph symptoms and this time with e-coil or salmonella symptoms. Not fun or even exciting enough for a good story.  

In the process of researching sources and treatments for diarrhea I learned more than I wanted to know about the epidemic of cholera in Peru ; symptoms are similar to what I have been experiencing. However, I also learned that eighty percent of uncomplicated cases of traveler's diarrhea are caused by ingesting the bacteria e-coli commonly associated with unsanitary food handling. As I had only eaten candy bars and bottled water on the bus and symptoms usually occur a couple days after infection, the problem must have started back in Nazca. The hotel is a convenient place to recuperate. A free Internet terminal for guests is available in the lobby and wireless Internet is available in my room. Using the Lilliputian Pocket PC is fine for checking email, but composing responses with it is like assembling words in a game of Scrabble. So, answering mail usually must wait until I have access to the full sized lobby terminal.   

Cuzco is a fascinating city. Situated 3360 m ( 11,024 feet ) above sea level newcomers find themselves gasping for air with the slightest exertion. Once the capital of the Inca Empire, one can still see the remaining granite stone walls of many Inca structures like the Inca Palace and Sun Temple . City planners and maintenance departments have saved all the old original Inca and Spanish colonial structures, upgrading and maintaining everything as if it had been built yesterday... charming. Cuzco is a delightful place to explore. Old buildings and town layout offer surprises around every corner. The two square block Plaza de Armas is surrounded by old colonial structures. Next to the magnificent Cathedral sits the original local office of the infamous Inquisition, Local de la Inquisicion  now selling religious curios to tourists! Many government buildings, shops and a few of the more expensive hotels also grace the streets facing the Plaza. Cuzco  has more churches and plazas than I'll ever have time to visit. High on a hill above Cuzco stands another replica of the famous 110 foot high Rio de Janeiro Cristo Redemptor statue called here Cristo Blanco. Copies of this work of art are very popular around South America .  

The city reminds me a lot of Santa Barbara , except for the total lack of western fast food joints or modern shopping malls. There are plenty of upscale shops selling fancy western goods and the large El Molino Mercado where a hundred little permanent stalls sell every imaginable product to mostly local shoppers. Prices there are cheap; I bought a light down vest for $6.30 after a brief and amiable period of bargaining that started at $7.50. The seller and I both seemed to enjoy the process. She grabbed my counter offer without pause so I suspect I paid too much. 

Coca leaf chewing has been widely reported to be a stimulant somewhat like coffee with the added benefit of counteracting the effects of low oxygen content of the air at this high altitude. I've been looking forward to trying it ever since entering this part of South America . Imagine my surprise when I discovered a basket full of green leaves next to the complimentary coffee/tea table in the lobby of my hotel. After verifying the identity of the leaves and that they were safe to taste, I chewed about a tablespoon's worth. As far as I could tell the ritual had no immediate effect... much like my first encounter with smoking marijuana many decades ago. Incidentally, the leaves taste surprisingly similar to marijuana. Later I noticed the basket of commercial tea packets included a quantity of "SURAT Mate de Coca." I'm wondering what would happen during my re-entry into the country during customs inspection were I to bring a few packages home.  

A dozen cafes and restaurants cluster around the Plaza de Armas, some with sidewalk dining, some with second floor views. Restaurant touts wander the covered sidewalks near their establishments aggressively approaching potential customers with a menu ready for inspection. Roaming Andean musicians entertain diners and then offer CDROM discs containing their music. The sounds of raspy pan pipes, flutes, drums, and guitars create a pleasant background for dining on broiled llama (like tough beef) or roasted guinea pig (tastes a lot like white rat). "I'd rather be a hammer than a nail." is played so often it surely must be the favorite melody for Peruvian pipers. 

As first seen in Lima, bus conductors dash from their buses to time clocks mounted at fixed locations and monitored by another person to time stamp their progress records every few blocks or so. The practice makes work for an army of record keepers around the city. For some reason, ice-cream freezers with clear sliding tops are kept locked in most mom and pop refreshment shops. I presume kids stealing the goodies must be the problem. Indian ladies use a highly stylized technique for folding and tying their colorful shawl into a backpack. In it they can carry a baby, groceries, products to sell and just about anything smaller than an orange crate. They are rarely seen without the distinctive colorful load on their backs.  

After six nights of recuperation and acclimation I am ready to make the trip to Machu Picchu . I have not decided which of the several transportation options I'll use; all are possibilities: early morning train, late morning bus half way and then train or a packaged tour. I end this now so I can complete my research. 

Photos taken while in Cuzco are here. 

Peace,
Fred Bellomy