The Peruvian Andes

The Inca Trail is one of the great South American hikes. Machu Picchu, at the end of the trail, is an archeological wonder not be missed. The hike itself is demanding, and only self-styled masochists should attempt the trail on their own steam. Those who do will be able to revel in their accomplishments while they wander around the ruins. Those wanting to hike, but looking for a little guidance can either join up with a group in Cusco, or pay porters along the trail. Paying a porter to carry your pack for just a portion of the trail is a cheap alternative to a completely guided tour. Most porters seem to know the breaking point of most hikers, and know just when to approach you to make a deal. Cusco, the jumping off point for most hikers, is worth more than glance. This town is packed with great museums, ruins, and shopping. Not to mention, those Peruvians make a mean Pisco Sour.

Quick Tips:

Pick up a tourist pass to save money on entrance fees. You'll need it to get into several attractions including some of the ruins outside the city. The Mueum of Natural History is rarely mentioned but really worth a visit for anybody wanting to get a glimpse of Peruvian wildlife. The gigantic condor that hangs over the entrance is probably the only one you'll see unless you're heading to the Colca Canyon. For the iron-stomach travelers only, try some of the street vendors. Stuffed potatoes for A .25 can't be beat. Neither can the potent Pisco Sours drinks available at almost any bar.

Best Way To Get Around:

On foot - there's no better way to see this town than to wander its streets.

I found the Orquidea Real Hostel on the Internet and booked a stay there after a brief e-mail discussion. Rooms at the small inn were clean and well kept. At night, one of the staff was always available to light a fire in our room to take the chill out of the October air. Hot water flowed freely, somewhat of a luxury in Cusco. Breakfast, served between 6:00 am and 10:00 am, was included in the price of the room, and included fresh juice, coffee, mate de coco, and bread straight out of the oven. While we hiked the Inca Trail, The Orquidea was kind enough to hold onto our extra luggage for no extra charge. A very pleasurable stay.

The thin air of the Andes can build up an appetite. After wandering the streets of Cusco for hours, Rick and I decided to stop and get a bite to eat. Restaurants lined the outside of the main square - The Plaza D'Armas. Unable to make a decision, and unwilling to slow down, we ducked into a bakery on the side street.

I ordered a vegetable empanada, and waited while the woman behind the counter heated it up. Behind me, a woman and her llama waited patiently to place their order. Not exactly up to western health codes, but a tasty treat for less than a buck, and a great photo-op.

The train ride to KM 88, the starting point of the Inca Trail, was a harrowing one. After waiting in line for several hours to obtain a ticket, we were told the train was sold out. After an elderly Peruvian woman in front of us bickered with the ticket seller, the line re-opened and more tickets were sold. Dozens more than could be seated on the train.

Inching through the crowd, we managed to get on one of the end compartments. As we stood in the cramped compartment, people crawled over seats, and each other to move from one end to the other. I stood on my backpack. A Peruvian woman pushed her way through the crowd, selling ice-cream and beer out of a cooler without any luck. Woman and children stood beside the train selling water and fruit though the windows. More than an hour past the appointed departure time, we were off.

Unsure that KM 88 would be clearly marked we watched closely as the landscape slid by. After almost getting off at the wrong stop twice, a local motioned that he would tell us when to disembark. An hour later he signaled it was time. We hopped of the train with several other hikers. I stared at the train as it chugged off, and then over the rushing water towards the beginning of what would be a great hike.

Our Lonely Planet guidebook could not prepare us for how dismal Lima seemed to be. Flying in, I could barely see the city as it was shrouded in fog. My first glimpse of Peru's capital was shocking. As we headed towards the landing strip I looked down on an airplane graveyard. Several large aircraft and pieces of them were scattered on the ground. A burnt-out shell of what looked like a 747 was a frigthening sight. I gripped the armrests as we landed uneventfully.

A trip into the city failed to brighten my opinion of this horrid city. Litter was piled high along the beachfront, and overflowed off of sidewalks and onto the streets.

After a quick look around Miraflores Rick and I ducked into a seaside touristy mall, and went to a movie. Anything to escape the streets of Lima.

After finishing the Inca Trail, and looking around Machu Picchu, Rick and I headed down to Aguas Calientes. After four days hiking in the thin, cold mountain air, the heat of Aguas Calientes, and its hot salty waters were just what I needed. Natural hot spring baths found at the edge of town are a must for hikers aching with exertion. Rick and I headed down to the baths, towels hung over our shoulders, ready for a long soak. Steam rose up around our heads from the wonderfully oppressive heat. I needed to sip on a cold bottled water to keep from reaching the boiling point before I was ready. Rick chugged back a well-earned beer. We bobbed in the sulpher-scented water until well after dark, leaving only when the baths closed for the evening.

With only a couple of days to explore Cusco and the surrounding areas, we decided the Mercado De Pisac was a must.

Shopping in Cusco was great, but we heard that the market in Pisac was a lot better, and there was a good hike nearby.

The market slows down around noon, and we wanted to get an early start so I set the alarm for 6:00.

We wandered around early morning Cusco, looking for the bus station. I kept re-checking my directions, and our actual location. Even though the two coincided, we were standing in the middle of a mud-parking lot, surrounded by derelict vehicles.

A local confirmed in broken English that we had indeed found the parking lot. Before we had time to change our minds, we were standing on a jam-packed bus, heading for Pisac.

The bus winded its way higher through the countryside, and 45 stomach churning minutes later we pulled into Pisac.

Stalls lined each side of the narrow walkway into the heart of the market. Ceramics, wool sweaters, and the signature Peruvian hats were crowded onto tables. Friendly locals manning the tables were eager to chat, more often than not, about where you were from and if you were enjoying Peru. The hard sell came when you went to walk away.

It was impossible to buy everything I liked - I liked everything. Both the quality and the price were amazing. I settled on a couple of ceramic bowls, and a doll for each of my nieces back home. I walked around, wishing I'd brought a bigger knapsack.