The Eight Hour Tour Bus (Sacred Valley)

I am sitting here with a persistent headache which I am not sure is from the altitude on the second day in Cuzco and environs, or the savage beating the tour bus driver gave us today. I was sure we were bouncing literally three feet in the air on certain speed bumps (sadly the seat belt stretched only 2.5), then I saw the identical small Mercedes tour bus in front of us, and watched with amazement, as sure enough hitting a bump the people seated in the back seat were lurched into a Disneyland crescendo of confusion and pain. Damn!

We hit about eight spots for thirty dollars US each. It was the standard deal where the tour guide takes you to where he can make a buck or three from his friend’s kickbacks. We were introduced to some people and suffered two pitches on the bus itself. Itinerary: Pisac market and ruins, Chinchero, Ollyantaytambo and a few smaller places, wide spots in the road. We had the “deluxe” lunch which was a buffet (buffet and deluxe should not be in the same sentence), and then they charged us extra for sparkling water, six sols each.

The Pisac ruins were quite interesting and we went through an Inca tunnel carved out of solid rock. The views and the degree they took the whole terrace farming amazed me. Places that would be considered completely useless anywhere else were terraced. I also really liked Chinchero.

The problem is I saw many, many spots on the road I would have liked to stop but we couldn’t because we were on a tour. That hurt. For some unknown reason the small deviant Quechua children seemed to find a crack in our steely resolve and we purchased a number of items, far more than I had planned on buying most definitely.

Cuzco~First Impressions

It seems that Peru, and especially Cuzco, is both very touristy and yet very genuine at the same time. We have been in Cuzco less than 24 hours and I just got up from a nap. I did take the Diamox medicine for altitude adjustment and of course I can’t really tell if it is working or not because I don’t know how I would be without it. I do know walking back up the hill from the main town square, the Plaza de Armas, I was suddenly caught off guard and out of breath. It was like it snuck up on me through a day of color and excitement and said “Ha now I have you”!

Coming in to land I wondered about the plane maneuvering through the mountains and dropping down to quickly stop. It was pretty fancy I have to say and we made some sharp turns and then landed hot—meaning very fast, I was wondering if those thrust reversers were going to be enough. Stepping off the plane at 6am or so it was brisk and refreshing but I didn’t really notice myself breathing hard. The hotel had arranged to pick us up. Driving to the hotel Lisa remarked it looked like we were “driving through a war zone”, packs of dogs roaming the streets, rubble everywhere in piles and things looking sad and depressed.

After checking in, and having a couple of cups of coca tea, we decided to walk down to the square and on the way ran into a wonderful city market which apparently is only run one day a week. I am really glad we caught it because it was the genuine thing with many older, stooped back Indian people in their traditional dress carrying and selling a variety of un-processed food stuffs. There were virtually no touristas in here and it was not for our entertainment. We could have spent much more time in here but we continued on to a large bizarre parade winding through the streets.
We didn’t get hit too much with all the vendors selling carved gourds, postcards, paintings, shoe shines, and jewelry till we hit the main square. Once they are on you it is hard to get rid of them. Also a main Item to work is for a couple girls, or women in traditional dress carrying baby lambs or goats, to say you can take their picture or have a picture with them, for a price.

We stopped at a restaurant with a balcony overlooking the square, The Andean Grill, to get a bite to eat and the waiter was very nice. I ordered possibly the worst pizza in my life, yes I know I should have my ass kicked for ordering pizza in Cuzco, it just sounded good. I bravely struggled through for a bit and then offered what was left to an old Indian man who I believe was related to the waiter and was just hanging out, he was grateful for it, good!

We did at that point go up behind the church and find the “12 angled stone”. There was a dude there expecting to be paid a small sum for telling me exactly where to stand for the perfect picture, all in good fun. We walked back and got momentarily disoriented, this was where we were both suddenly out of breath as well. We now are tucked snuggly in our room and getting ready for tomorrow’s adventure.

Share the Ride

If you were really hungry, in fact starving, and finally found some food, like a piece of homemade pie, it would taste exquisitely good, almost painfully pleasurable on your palette. You would eat it slowly, savoring every morsel and really enjoying the slow, methodical, act of eating. If however, you had a friend with you who also had been starving, and they were enjoying the pie as well, you would enjoy the moment even more.

We are curious monkeys, us humans, we need society. It has been documented; a baby monkey if it cannot touch other monkeys, nor have contact with others, will die. Humans when isolated, possibly on a deserted island like Daniel Defoe, will go to extraordinary lengths, risking their very lives, to rejoin the human fold. It almost seems if we cannot share what we see, do and feel, then it hasn’t really happened, like the tree falling silently in the forest. If other human beings cannot acknowledge our experiences I am not sure they matter all that much.

I am thinking of what is important in life’s long luscious journey in terms of accomplishments, goals and dreams. If I run the fastest time ever in the 100 yard dash and no one else bears witness to it, does it count for anything? My most beautiful photo if unseen is just paper, or code. Even if we see something, somewhere, at some time, which truly astounds us doesn’t it tarnish it to be alone? Don’t we often kind of look around, to see if someone, anyone, is there to catch our momentary eye contact, to share in our human hubris of emotion and wowed wonder.
The movie “Into the Wild” explores John Krakauer’s true story of a young man who travels widely, and experiences much beauty and theatric thrills, to die alone, never having really shared it with anyone. It was very sad and in many ways a wasted, wistful life. I think of this now because a friend of mine is traveling alone and seeing many splendid sights he wants to share through the internet. It reminds me of the frustration when I have been in similar situations.

I think this is the cause of such a rapid rise in the various social media networks currently available. If people buy a new phone or gizmo they want to share how it works; and their feelings and viewpoints, in an instant digital reflection similar to writing in a diary or journal, but for the world to see and share in. It is interesting to watch the evolution of new forms of human needs and connectedness.
Of course feedback is also very important, to know you are not alone and are not crazy to think and feel the way you do. Even if in your current location you find yourself having nothing in common with the local populace, if you can reach out somehow to the warm sustaining light stream of the digital world, you can snag a communication lifeline of thought; you can escape the vapid void.

Communication with another of the sublime, supreme moments of our lives seem to have a multiplier effect, like mixing drugs and alcohol. They help us enjoy and re-see, re-experience, things that have become familiar to us. The things new to both are understood better in a wider view, more facets are seen, and more information is taken in with more sets of eyes, which only makes sense.

I once read that people in this modern, mobile world do not have to necessarily be stuck with families that they are genetically tied to. They can pick and choose people who are important to them. If there is an abusive uncle who brings nothing positive into your life there may be a need to let that relationship go. On the other hand people now seem to be spawning digital families and forms of connectedness that were here-to-for impossible. Relationships and common stakeholders can be found in far flung spaces. Our meeting halls have become worldwide; our soap boxes have become broadcast towers, we don’t have to rely on the slick reporter to talk to the man in the street, we can get to know the man in the street ourselves.

I always tell people that the things in life that are truly important are relationships. The movie reel, deathbed memories thoughtfully fondled behind our eyes, as we pass away into the night, will not be of tallying things we owned, it will be memories of the good times we shared with others, people in our far flung families that we touch by type and people in the next room we hold in our arms.