So glad I did the walking tour of Barranco district yesterday – I found the starting point at last and our small group caught a local bus from Miraflores to the district (.50 cents) where we met another bigger group and split up into two for the English and Spanish speaking guides. It’s an interesting district with lots of character – large colourful murals painted on walls, Spanish colonial buildings, artisan stuff for sale.

The Bohemian district of Barranco, Lima.

This morning dawned grey with a heavy sea fog enveloping the city, not uncommon at this time of year. It took ages to get out of the city because of the gridlock traffic and the fog. We hugged the coastline for hours, often in the fog and traveling at 50 kph until about 3pm when we turned inland towards Huaraz, another 3 hours on, through desert and mountains. Prior to that there was a lot of agriculture along the coastal strip – the usual crops I’ve seen elsewhere but also what I think was asparagus in huge acreages in the sandy soil, which I know is the kind of soil it likes. Being a crop that needs to stay in the ground year after year in order to produce, the vast expanses of sandy soil along the coast are perfect for it. The meal service on board offered hot options off the menu of about 10 options – I booked the meat option which was spaghetti with a basil pesto and meat, a cold root vegetable salad and sweet cake for desert. About the same as you’d expect to get on any airline in economy class. You choose your preferred meal option when you book your ticket. The cleverly designed meal trays, which tuck away when not in use, have the ability to compensate for the sway of the coach on winding roads so drinks are less likely to spill. As we began the climb from the coast to Huaraz there were mosaics of different coloured spices and vegetables spread out on the ground drying around villages, which brighten up the otherwise grey/brown of the desert sand. I managed to capture one or two shots as we sped by but would’ve liked to have been able to include all the different colours, especially the bright orange peppers. 

Red jalapeno peppers drying in the sun.

The climb up to this altitude of around 4,000 metres involved untold numbers of switchbacks in order to be able to manage the steep mountainsides. The bus eventually arrived here about an hour late and well after dark. Eifilien, the hostess, introduced me to the facilities in the house and it looks good – she assures me there’s plenty of hot water in the shower. The bedroom’s large with a double bed and everything’s spotless. She lives next door. Two other guests, a young couple from Korea, are in the other bedroom and they speak excellent English, so we’ve already discussed what there is to do and see around here. They’re doing a five hour hike around Lake 69 tomorrow but I think I’ll just have a rest day. There’s a street vendor very close by where I was able to get a hot meal after I got here – the usual, a generous serving of chicken schnitzel and chips with lettuce salad - $2.50. I’ll look for something healthier tomorrow. There’s a good kitchen here I can use so maybe I’ll look for some leafy dark green veg like silverbeet. And a decent beef steak, which seems to be a rarity in Peru (a lot of the butchers in the markets have all kinds of meat on display but often it’s not identified and seldom ever has the price per kilo on it, so I just pass it by). Supermarkets, on the other hand, have it displayed and priced just as it would be in NZ. If you order a steak meal here, you’ll almost always get a piece of not very tender uncoated beef schnitzel. Not sure why – maybe it’s because the meal would cost too much for the locals otherwise. So, 9 hours on the bus and It’s time I turned in for the night. Catch up tomorrow. Ciao.

Fourth .(?) and last day in Lima - Huaraz tomorrow night

(I'm missing my Fish and Chips, here). Lots of fast food places but I haven't seen a Fish and Chip shop anywhere in Miraflores. You get used to being approached by beggars here, especially outside the American food franchises like Maccas (the beggars know that those places are a mecca for Americans with money). I went there for a coffee at McCafe this morning and was approached by another unkempt man asking for money - I just ignored him as though I was deaf and eventually he gave up and moved on. I had planned to meet Greta for lunch but she texted to say she was sick with the flu so we just met outside the hostel where she's working for a chat - I just hope she didn't pass the bug on to me. I've kept well so far and don't want to suffer any illnesses while I'm here. I try to include a variety of fruit and veg in my diet but dark green leafy veg like spinach is impossible for me to prepare and I don't see it on any menus anywhere, either. I had Mexican last night, a tortilla stuffed with meat and beans and guacamole with sides of hot spicy salsa and jalapeno sauces. $7.00. As usual I saved one of my breakfast rolls this morning for lunch and bought a tomato and some ham to make a nice snack. For some reason I forgot I had Granola and milk I could have had for breakfast until after I'd eaten the cooked one they serve here. 
I found the meeting place for the walking tour of the Bohemian sector near Kennedy Park this morning so I'll do that tour this afternoon - it's a free tour but the guides expect a tip, which is understandable (around 20 soles - $10).
When I went to bed last night after the soccer at around 10:30pm there were only two of us in the 8 bed dorm room - Sergio from Mexico and myself. We chatted for a while about our respective travel experiences before we turned in. By morning there were five of us in the dorm - three lovely young ladies from London had checked in overnight sometime - two of them fly out to Indonesia later today. Can't recall what the third one's doing. Young people love to travel.

Not much other news from this side of the world - Peru is celebrating the win over Scotland in the World Cup soccer qualifier last night. I suspect there might have been more Scotch than Pisco consumed here in Lima  last night if the result had gone the other way! 

I can think of at least two people I know who'd just love to be let loose in this department store!

The beautiful ornate Catholic Cathedral in central Lima. 

Tuesday 29 May, 2018, Lima

Today's been a bit of a non-event, really. I wanted to do the walking tour of the Bohemian sector leaving from a park close to here at 3:30pm but couldn't see the tour guide or anyone else that looked like they might be doing the same tour so just walked back to the hostel via the laundry that was supposed to have my clothes washed, dried and packed by 4pm (but I still had to wait 10 minutes after getting there at 4:30pm). While I was in Kennedy Park waiting to meet up with the walking group I was approached by a woman about 50 years old who claimed she'd been robbed on her way to the airport by the taxi driver two days earlier and needed money to get to the South African embassy in Quito, Equador. I found her story a bit hard to believe and after a few questions to which she had answers I declined to help. I couldn't believe that if it was genuine she couldn't get help by phoning the embassy with her story - I'm sure they'd be able to do something for one of their citizens. I was then approached by a young mother with a baby wanting money for something but I couldn't interpret what - she led me to a pharmacy where she spoke to the counter staff in Spanish who then asked me for 87 soles. As no-one in the pharmacy could speak English I wasn't able to find out what the 87 soles was for so again I had to decline. It's hard to know if  the beggars are genuine or scammers but 87 soles is about NZD40.00. I was beginning to wish I'd stayed at the hostel for the afternoon.
Tonight is a big night here in Lima and the hostel has set up a big screen to watch the game between Scotland and Peru. I may watch it. I found the Cruz del Sur coach terminal in a neighbouring suburb this morning and booked my trip to Huaraz for Thursday morning. departing 9:30am. The girl doing the booking pulled all the available services up on the screen and I indicated the 9:30am service but noticed she booked me on the 9:30pm service - not sure if it was deliberate or a mistake but I've struck a lot of that kind of thing here in Peru - you ask for a meat filled empanada and they try to switch it to a cheese filled one - no doubt because the cheese filled ones are cheaper.
Nothing else to blog about today - there may be more tomorrow, I hope.

Second day in Lima

I've extended my stay again to checkout on Thursday now - so much to see and do. The walking tour of the central city was wonderful - 20 soles (a donation as it's a free tour) for three hours. Beautiful Spanish colonial architecture, wonderful gardens and fountains, hundred of tourists. The changing of the guard was an absolute spectacle - in front of the Presidential palace that reminded me of Buckingham Palace. I want to go back tomorrow to see it again - the military band played wonderful music during the ceremony which the guards marched to. Admittedly the music was an eclectic mix - Star Wars, Rocky and some more conservative scores, but it was good. The tour guide took us (6 of us) on the high speed bus service I referred to in my previous blog - Auckland needs to look at a similar system! The buses move thousands of commuters through the city on a system as efficient as any subway system for only 2.5 soles per trip (about NZD1.00). Buses arrive at the "stations" every few minutes. Tomorrow I plan to do another walking tour of the Bohemian sector in the afternoon - a suburb close to Miraflores, where I'm staying. The city has a population of around 10 million divided into 43 sectors, Miraflores being just one. The central city Catholic cathedral is magnificent - the artwork inside quite stunning. Some wealthy benefactors were obviously very keen to get into heaven! There's a big soccer match on here tomorrow - Peru v. Scotland - world cup qualifier. So there's a lot of kilted tourists in the city! Sport brings huge returns to the hosting cities. I'll watch it on TV at the hostel.
I had some laundry to do this afternoon - typically, the prices vary depending on your ethnicity - 50 soles for about 2 kilos (they weigh it) at one place and only 10 soles at another on the same street. They do a good job - washed, dried, pressed. folded and returned in a nice packet. 10 soles is dear enough, I was only paying 5.5 soles in Cusco.
I bought some fake cheese slices and fake ham in a big supermarket not far from here this afternoon to put into the bread rolls I'd saved from breakfast - last night the pizza punished me all night, even after the antacid tablets. I have Granola of my own for breakfast here but save the bread rolls, fruit and anything else they serve for breakfast for a later snack. I hate waste. They don't mind giving me a bowl for my Granola.  Not much else to post today - may be more tomorrow. Ciao.

First day in Lima....

Sunday, 9am in Lima: Wow! What a huge city! Arrived here this morning at 12:15am from Arequipa and had problems connecting with my Uber driver - we couldn't find each other, not surprisingly considering the size of the airport. To make things easy for the drivers I always walk away from the airport to a less congested area such as a public road before requesting a ride, but last night the app kept placing me at the terminal building for some reason, so that's where the driver would have been looking for me. When I arrived at the airport a taxi company with a booth there quoted 60 soles for the trip to my hostel, which I declined, knowing Uber would be half that. But after failing to make the connection with my Uber driver I ended up negotiating a fare of 35 soles for the trip in a taxi. After half an hour of fast driving in the cab to my hostel - https://www.poolparadiselima.com/ - I was feeling guilty about driving the price down to 35 soles and paid 40 soles, what he'd asked for.
The hostel is better than any other places I've stayed in Peru - the shower is actually hot with good flow. That's worth 10 soles on its own - the breakfast is included in the rate of 40 soles per night (worth about another 10 soles) and there's a lovely outdoor al fresco dining area, pool, bar and some kind of entertainment every night (movie night tonight). I've extended my stay here until Wednesday and may add more nights yet. I'm the oldest person here by far, of course - but lots of interesting young people from all over the world staying here to talk to, which makes it enjoyable. It's an overcast day here this morning (Sunday) but mild - maybe 17 degrees? I'm noticing the fact that I'm back at sea level and able to breathe easily after the effort to get enough oxygen in Cusco - everything was an effort there, even just strolling.
Later, 12:30pm - I saw a notice in the foyer advertising a free walking tour, but not on Sundays, so I did my own and what a contrast to the rest of the cities in Peru this one is (at least in the suburb of Miraflores, where I'm staying for the next few days or longer). Affluent, sophisticated, beautiful parks and gardens with fountains, nice homes with manicured lawns and gardens and upmarket European cars in the drive, tree lined streets. Feels very safe here. I walked along a tree lined boulevard into the CBD where all the international franchises are represented ( including of course, McDonalds, Burger King, Subway, Dominos, Dunkin' Donuts, the big banks, auto makers, fashion houses and so on). The central square was full of people enjoying their Sunday morning (and lots of tarot card readers). I bought a soft freeze cone at Pop Eye's, a franchise I've not seen before anywhere. The 3D cinemas didn't look like they were showing any English language movies, just releases of the current ones but in Spanish language. And most noticeable - no dogs running wild on the streets tearing rubbish bags open in search of scraps like every other city I've been in so far.
It's very relaxing here sitting around the pool area writing this and I could see myself staying here for some time at this price. Nice Latin American music playing in the background adds to the ambiance. Other guests doing much the same as myself, on their tablets or mobiles and just chilling in the sun, some smoking that same strange smelling herb I encountered in Vicuña. :)
Evening, 7pm: After an afternoon of lying back on a lounger in the sun next to the pool listening to the Bee Gees through my headphones and enjoying a coldie I saw another guest with a great looking pizza and asked her if she got it here. No, from Dominos, which is dangerously close, I discovered. I walked there in five minutes and ordered the best pizza ever - pepperoni, mushrooms, olives, double cheese - and they know how to make a good pizza (tomato paste on the base). I've researched Huaraz and think I'll go there mid week - there's a nice looking Airbnb there and I have a voucher to use from my bad experience in Arequipa. It looks like a nice place - 8 hours by bus from here. Maybe spend 3 or 4 days there then decide where next. I'll do the Lima city tour by bus tomorrow just to get the lay of the land. There's a high speed bus service on dedicated lanes close to here which I want to investigate as well - it looks like a light rail rapid transport system, but on buses. Stations along a set route to get on and off, just like a subway system.
Time to go - the movie's about to start in a few minutes. A comedy, in English, I think. Ciao.

This is why I needed a translator - a tour guide in Machpicchu.

8am; I forgot the fifth thing you’re unlikely to find in a Peruvian bathroom – soap. Of any description. I carry a small tube of shaving soap with me as well as the toilet paper, so I can at least wash my hands after going.

I never got the full body massage I needed to soothe my aching muscles yesterday – I had to wait for my laundry to come back to the hostel at 7pm and by then all the massage establishments were closed. What I did achieve though was making a phone call – I popped in to Claro (the provider) to ask why I couldn’t make calls or send texts. Every time I tried I got a message in Spanish I couldn’t understand. I added 20 soles to my account and tried again and got the same message. A consultant at Claro interpreted the message for me – I needed to add their prefix of six numbers to the number I was calling in order for it to go through. At last I have a phone that I can use if I need to – the number is +51 9538 74299 in case anyone needs it (only while I’m in Peru).

Today I hope to fly to Lima. I say “hope to” because when I booked the ticket online on a third-party web site the transaction went through and I got the eTicket by email but then got an email from the issuer (eBoliteris – like Webjet) telling me that only the airfare cost had been debited and their booking fee had rejected. I asked them to cancel the ticket and refund me but they wouldn’t (I’d found an even cheaper fare on Latam’s – the airline’s – web site). So, I’ll turn up at the airport and see what happens – I have the Latam eTicket and it looks Kosher. I’ll update you later today.

Later: 11:27am – I had breakfast in Cusco, the place that cooks my porridge wasn’t open at 9am so I went elsewhere – a place that had a sign outside with a picture of an American Breakfast (two fried eggs, bacon, tomatoes, toast, jam, butter and coffee). Never assume in Peru that what is advertised is what you’ll get – the toast was hard and stone cold, the tomatoes raw sliced, the bacon and eggs were scrambled eggs with ham pieces mixed in and the coffee was made with milk instead of water. And naturally no pepper. Yuk. I left them a note to help them in future as to what “Americans” expect. I’m at Cusco airport and have checked in for my flight to Lima, no issues. I tried to change the ticket to a non-stop service but had no luck. So, via Arequipa I go with a long stopover there (2:15pm until 10:40pm). Cusco airport is a disaster! Thousands of passengers with their luggage in a terminal serving about six airlines, which is far too small for the job – unbelievable chaos! For some reason the planners just don’t understand that you need SPACE in the check-in area in order to operate smoothly. And this isn’t even high season, which is June and July. I shouldn’t have any problem filling in my day in Arequipa as I didn’t explore the Plaza de Armas area while I was there. I saw it in passing and it looked interesting so I’ll likely catch a cab there for a better look.

Even later: 8pm – I went into the city using Uber – taxi is about 25 soles, Uber 12 soles. Not much to see, just strolled around the Plaza de Armas and enjoyed the afternoon sun. I did get the massage I wanted in the end, though, NZD12 for half an hour – it was painful on my leg muscles though! The flight from Cusco was on an A320-200 with 174 seats – by the look of the queue to board I thought it must be an A380! I was in row 29, of course – cheapest seats. The flight was full, and most passengers had huge amounts of hand luggage (all not weighed). By my estimates the passenger load with hand luggage was around 17,400 kgs. I wondered what the maximum ramp weight was for this aircraft to take off safely assuming the hold was full of freight and baggage as well, especially in such thin air. Ruth probably knows – it would depend on how much fuel was on board as well, of course. Even later, in Arequipa: While I waited for my boarding call at 10pm I tried to connect to WiFi – difficult, but at last the coffee shop I’m in has got their router rebooted and I manage. I’ve booked at the Pool Paradise Hostel in Lima on the recommendation of Greta, who is working at another hostel in Lima – it sounds good, with a pool and breakfast included for only 43 soles per night. I booked two nights but may stay longer unless I continue touring North to Huarez and other places. They also claim to have hot showers, but I’ll believe that when I see it – they all claim that but seldom deliver. My flight is about to board so I’ll leave my post here. More tomorrow, Ciao.

Llamas graze contentedly on a wall in Machupicchu.

Machupicchu - a small part of it.

Friday, 25 May 2018, back in Cusco.

Unsealed roads with no guard rails don't deter these high speed gravel gauchos!

Passenger trains pass several times as I walk to Aguas Caliente. 

Swiss Alps, Canada, New Zealand or Peru? The Andes are as good as any!

No time to post a blog yesterday – up at 4:30am in Agua Caliente to catch the earliest bus to Machupicchu around 5:30am and didn’t get back to my hostel in Cusco until 10pm, exhausted and ready for sleep. But today I’m having a rest day to catch up with emails and write my blog. This morning I took my own quick oats to a café I often use here and asked them to make me up some porridge (they didn’t know what porridge is – breakfast here is often a plate of French fries with various other additions of vegetables or meats). I’ve yet to find a café that serves cereal for breakfast in Peru, but no doubt hotels and some hostels offer it as an alternative to a cooked breakfast (this one has no dining room).

So, my tour to the fabulous Machupicchu. The minibus picked me up Wednesday morning at my hostel at 7:15am and went around town picking up the others on the tour before setting off for the town of Aguas Caliente, which is the town that services Machupicchu. It’s a lot further from Cusco than I thought – a six hour minibus trip, then I opted for the walk from the drop off point at Hydro Electrica to Aguas Caliente along the railway line – the travel agent told me it was a two hour walk and as it was along the railway line it was easy. Okay, but he didn’t mention that to get to the railway line you have to climb a very steep bank for some distance and that the walk is actually closer to three hours. Never mind, the scenery was worth it – wonderful jungle either side of the line which runs alongside a large, fast flowing mountain river not unlike some that flow on the West Coast of New Zealand. From a distance the mountains look to be covered in similar bush, as well, but as you get closer you notice that the plants are tropical with bright flowers and banana palms growing wild everywhere, some with bunches of unripened bananas hanging on them. There are several vendors along the line selling fruit, meals, drinks and ice-creams (bananas, four for NZD .50 cents) and the prices are reasonable for the other stuff on offer as well. The mountains either side of the track are simply stunning – towering above the river and so steep. Several trains passed us as we walked the track and we had to cross several rivers walking on the sleepers – one misplaced foot and a broken leg would be inevitable! Despite the warnings to use the deviations around the tunnels most of the walkers (including myself) opted to risk being half way through when the next train arrived in order to avoid the extra exertion required to circumnavigate them. I only saw one group ahead of me who were in a tunnel when a train approached from behind them and they had to make a hurried exit to get out. I just followed that train through knowing I’d be safe for at least half an hour. The trek is about 12 kilometres and about 1 kilometre from my destination as it was getting dark I missed my footing on the loose ballast alongside the track and fell heavily on my face and “manbag” and just managed to stop myself from sliding down a steep bank into the river, fifty feet below. Nothing was broken (just a bruised left cheek bone) so I picked myself up and continued on into town and to my Hostel, Eco Mapi (which I can’t recommend since the travel agent assured me it had hot showers – yes, hot for 30 seconds then cold after that). I checked with other guests staying there and they found the same problem. There’s four things you can’t assume you’ll find in a Peruvian bathroom – toilet paper, towels, a hot shower and hot and cold water over the basin. You often have to ask for toilet paper and a towel at reception when you check in. And you always need to carry a roll of toilet paper with you when you’re out in case you need to use a public “Baño” – you might pay half a sol and get access plus eight sections of paper, but that’s not always quite enough! Most, but not all, have toilet seats – otherwise it’s just the bowl. Primitive. Anyway, lunch on the way up to Hydro Electrica was included in the tour package, as was dinner that night and breakfast (if you could call it that – a banana, tetra pack juice, four cookies and a small bottle of water) the next morning. The hostel printed the bus ticket up to Machupicchu and the entrance ticket (which I notice was 160 Soles – almost half of the tour cost). I thought I’d walk back down to Aguas Caliente from Machupicchu but it’s a lot further than I thought so I bought a bus ticket back down as soon as I got to the top. At 8,000 visitors per day (4,000 in the morning and 4,000 in the afternoon), this has to be Peru’s golden goose – that’s well over half a million NZD per day, just to enter. The bus up and down is another USD12.00 each way. No wonder when you enter Aguas Caliente you feel like you’ve suddenly been transported to another world – swish Western-style hotels, bars, clubs, shops, restaurants, etc. It’s hard to believe you’re actually in Peru. Prices are high there, of course. NZD3.50 for a pint of beer in Chile – NZD8.00 there. Considering the number of tourists who travel to Aguas Caliente by road, though, you’d think they’d invest in sealing them – they’re shocking. Unsealed, rough, potholes everywhere, narrow, fords to cross all the way – extremely hard on the vehicles that have to use them and even harder on the tourists who have to travel on them. The seat in the Renault minibus I traveled up there in was so worn out I had to use my puffer jacket as a cushion (and even it was hardly adequate). The Mercedes minibus on the way back had a more comfortable seat but cramped leg room and no space for backpacks and since it was full for part of the journey mine sat in the aisle with my heavy “manbag” on my lap. The driver on the way up must have done the trip thousands of times as he sped the whole way on the gravel roads, blowing the horn at every blind bend on the narrow stretches to warn oncoming traffic he was approaching, but not slowing down one bit. Several times he had to reverse up to let other traffic pass and had no qualms about overtaking slower moving minibuses despite the narrow, unsealed road carved into cliffs above thousand-foot drops into ravines. The bus was so close to the edge at times that I couldn’t see the edge of the road from my window seat – only the thousand feet of empty space to the river below. There are no guard rails. Half way there we had to stop to let a young woman get out and vomit – she retched again and again and must have felt wretched and moved into the front seat of the bus but didn’t look like she was enjoying the ride. The driver on the way back drove a lot slower and I had less confidence in his ability after we stopped en route for a coffee and he reversed into the toilet block when we were leaving. He was also stopped by the police in a small village en route and some lengthy discussions were held while they took his licence – I presume another minibus driver had complained to police about his driving and they were sorting it out. In the end it looked like a “fine” was paid in cash and his licence was returned and we continued on our way. At that stage we had about 3 or 4 empty seats and he stopped at a pharmacy and made a phone call and in the next village we picked up enough extra locals to fill the empty seats – again, I surmise that the phone call was to solicit extra cash passengers to cover the cost of the “fine”. This is Peru!! As we travelled alongside the river I could see white-water rafters paddling their way downstream and through the numerous grade four (?) rapids. There’s an incentive not to fall out of the rafts – every village pours it’s effluent into the river. Mountain biking is a popular sport here and some tour operators specialise in promoting it. They load either your own or a rental bike onto the top of their minibus and take you to the top of a very high mountain where the road might or might not be sealed and you can enjoy a very long, exhilarating, high speed ride back to the bottom. Some of the roads would be around 20 or 30 kilometres of downhill switchbacks. The sealed roads would be a motorcyclist’s dream – winding, long uphill and downhill sections, hairpin bends, apparently no police, certainly no speed cameras.

After arriving back in Cusco at 9:30pm I expected the bus to drop me back at my hostel, but no, everybody out at the Plaza de Armas and taxis waiting to take you to your accommodation at your cost. I can’t remember the name of the hostel I’m staying at but know it’s close to a significant statue on a main road and the driver recognises my description but still wants the name of the hostel – in the end I give up in frustration and walk. I know which direction it is from where I am and soon find the railway line that runs past it and follow that. I stopped at a pizza parlour for a pizza, but like hamburgers here, they really need lessons – the base has no tomato paste on it, which is a prerequisite in my books. Just a thin pastry base, cheese and ham pieces. It tasted good though and came with half a dozen toasted garlic bread sticks and two spicy dips – not too bad for NZD7.00. Pizzas here are very expensive considering the ingredients are so cheap here – I think because they are a staple of the North American tourists who frequent the city in the high season in big numbers. Enough for today – after all that trekking yesterday and the day before I just might need a full body massage to loosen up my aching back and legs. At NZD40.00 for an hour it sounds like a good idea! Ciao.

You can see the numerous switchbacks in this photo taken en route to Hydro Electrica.

Wednesady 23 MAY, 2018 and I'm in Hot Water

Very short blog post today - I'm "Hot Water" - explain tomorrow. Ciao.

Tuesday 22 May, 2018, Cusco, Peru.

I'm going to Macchupicchu. Mistakenly, I assumed that it was even higher than Cuzco and as I'm struggling for breath here I had serious reservations about going - but it's actually lower than here. A lot lower at only around 2,000 metres altitude, so in fact I'll be quite comfortable after having spent the last week at around 4,000 metres. I bought a half day city tour of Cusco this morning for c.$13.00nzd - excellent value! around 3 hours mostly in an open topped double decker bus and the very front seat up top. Great viewing. The commentary might well have not existed as I couldn't hear it but it didn't matter, I enjoyed the ride and most of it was probably just history of the churches and statues we passed anyway. After half an hour around the city we headed out to the country and climbed out of this valley at 3250 metres and eventually up to 3700 metres into clean, cool air which made a pleasant change from the pollution of the city (no law against smoking exhausts here and there are hundreds of worn out vehicles pouring out clouds of blue smoke). Half way up the long climb to the top we encountered two kids sitting on a skateboard who are riding it down to the bottom, several kilometres away. They have smiles on their faces from ear to ear and are going at quite a pace. I hope they make it in one piece. We pass lots of little plots of land wherever it's flat enough to cultivate that have crops such as broad beans and corn growing and people toiling in the hot sun with crude tools weeding between the rows. I presume these are the same people who on market day cart their loads of produce into the city in the hope of selling it. From time to time we pass the ruins of past civilisations which preceded the Incas. Everyone else on the bus takes photos except me because, like temples in Thailand, there are too many to mean anything in photos - they interest me, but that's all. As we drive along I see two men about to slaughter a sheep on the side of the road - thankfully we miss the gory event by seconds as they have the animal on its back and the knife poised at its throat as we pass. That might have been too much for some of the tourists on the bus! At the summit of the mountain we stop and group around a man dressed in traditional and very colourful clothing. On the blanket spread before him there are numerous religious artifacts and our guide explains that we are about to participate in a traditional religious ceremony of the tribe the man belongs to. He only speaks in his native Indian tongue. It's a communion service where he hands out three Coca leaves to each of the tour group and the guide explains the significance of the trilogy - we have to hold the leaves in a fan. He then moves around the group with a rattle in one hand and a large (Condor?) feather in the other shaking them over each one of us and chanting a prayer. The guide explains that the prayer is a petition to the Gods for blessings of abundance on the tribe. Pretty much the same as a Christian church, really. Next he comes around and collects all the Coca leaves (I thought we might get to chew them) and the guide explains that the man will now burn them in a little urn and we have to inhale the smoke as he brings the urn to each of us. The significance is related to getting rid of our sins in order to be blessed by God. Next he comes around with scented oil and anoints the palm of one hand and we have to inhale the scent to cleanse our bodies. After another blessing from him the complex ceremony is over and he blows a monotonous "tune" on a huge Conch shell to mark the end. The "plate" (which is actually a brightly coloured woven bag) is then passed around the group for their offerings. It's interesting and of course I took video of some of the ceremony which I'll post on Facebook. We have time to grab a bite to eat here and I grab a cheese Empanada at the highly inflated price of 4 soles (only 1 or 2 soles in the city). The next stop is at an artisan market where the dyeing process is explained and a bowl of cochineal powder from the bugs of the same name is used to demonstrate how the dark red powder can be changed into totally different colours simply by the addition of minerals such as salt or sulphur. I'm fascinated because the colour changes are so significant. The brightly coloured rugs and clothing on offer for sale are quite stunning and if I had room in my backpack I'd have bought something. I settle for photos of the brilliant work and think to myself how much my sister, Margaret, would love to see to see the handiwork, being as creative as she is. There's the usual collection of garish art and religious artifacts influenced by the "Catholicisation" of the ancient cultures but I can't imagine who'd want to hang or display that kind of thing in their homes. Our last stop is at the site of a huge statue of Jesus with arms outstretched looking across the city which was donated to the city by Palestinians who settled here a hundred years or so ago. Again, there are lots of sellers with their brightly coloured clothes and rugs spread out on the ground for sale - wherever a tour coach is likely to stop they are there. Back in the city I get dropped of at the Plaza de Armas (every town has one) and as I stroll back to my hostel I pass a travel agency with a sign outside "Macchupicchu 2 days one night tour USD$107". I'm interested since I've decided to go there and when I bought my city tour ticket the travel agent offered me a tour there by rail for USD260.00. I pop in to enquire and find that it's by car with an English speaking guide and includes the accommodation overnight in Aguas Calientes (which translates to "Hot Water"), return bus transfers from "hot water" to MP, entrance fees at MP and lunch, dinner and breakfast. It looks good and with a reputable operator so I buy - pickup is from my hostel at 7:30am Wednesday and return Thursday night. It converts to 350 soles (about NZD160.00) so it's great value. At my morning travel agent (Elizabeth) she had her 8 month old (?) baby in a pram behind the desk which is in a tiny, dark booth and it spends all day there with her as she has to work to live. The baby played with a brightly coloured piece of paper the whole time I was there - not much mental stimulation but this is very common in Peru. She's well off on a salary of 900 soles per month (about NZD100 per week). Many other mothers I see have their babies with them on the street selling bling or food or whatever. I suspect the most well off unskilled workers are the ones in the massage parlours - they charge 30 soles for a one hour therapeutic back massage which includes hot stones on your back, 100 soles for a full body massage of the same time and no doubt more for "extras"! The touts are everywhere imploring you to use their services. Well, again enough information for one day - I expect my lodgings tomorrow night will have WiFi and I'll be able to post another report on my day in MP. Ciao.

Colourful graphics of MP on our open top tour bus today.

A motorbike tour group prepare to depart - best place in the world for that - never rains.

Monday 21 May, 2018, Cusco, Peru.

I moved. Into another “hostel” which is really just a cheap hotel as there isn’t any dining room or other facilities you’d expect in a hostel but at only 5 soles per night more than last night it offers a large bedroom with en suite bathroom and the toilet here has a seat. They assure me it has hot water in the shower which I’m very pleased about as that’s the priority right now. I pay and go to the room on the second floor which faces the busy main road – I know it’ll be noisy (again) but I’m getting used to that and deal with it (earplugs and zopiclone). I strip and turn the shower on, it’s one of those electric shower heads that are popular here and next to useless even when new. Someone has penned a notice on the tiles “usar este lado” the translation of which is obscure to me  – “use only on low”? There is more water spraying out the crack in the side of the fitting than is dribbling out the bottom. I turn the tap down to low and the spray out the side seems to continue at the same rate while the dribble lessens. At least the dribble is warm, so I hop under and check to see if the spray out the side hitting the shower wall is warm as well – more 50 hertz / 230v tingling so I just put up with it. I’ll buy a roll of duct tape and see if I can improve it before tomorrow. At least I can get clean, although it takes a while longer. I shave under the dribble since there’s no hot tap over the basin (normal here). I feel like I need a coffee as I have a headache and remember I didn’t drink much yesterday so go out looking for a café and find one not far from the hostel. 2.5 soles for a large one is good value – the steak, eggs and vegetables on the menu looks good for tonight at 12 soles, too. The air is so thin here even strolling is taxing for me and when I pop into a hotel to enquire about the price a woman from Brazil is sitting in the foyer hooked up an oxygen cylinder – she doesn’t mind me taking her photo. I now know how people with asthma feel because I find myself struggling for enough oxygen here. The high concentration of carbon monoxide in the air from the thousands of vehicles doesn’t help – I think my red blood cells are absorbing that in lieu of the missing oxygen. After leaving my laundry at the front desk I stroll down the road towards some high-rise buildings hoping to find an ATM or bank but after 30 minutes give up looking and ask a hotel receptionist who gives me the address of one in exactly the opposite direction to the way I strolled (Murphy’s Law). The airport is right in the middle of the city and I stop for a few minutes and watch as a 737 with the “Star Alliance” branding (part of the Air NZ loyalty group) lines up to roll. I wonder how long it will take to get airborne in this thin air and I’m right – about 8,000 feet instead of the usual 3 or 4,000 feet at sea level. I start back and as I have to pass my hostel pop in to use the loo. I’m alarmed for a moment, thinking I’ve contracted some fatal gastro intestinal disorder, and then remember that I’ve been eating a lot of beetroot the last few days. The day’s getting hot and I change into shorts and sandals – I know I’ll look out of place dressed like that, but I don’t care. I continue in the right direction to find a bank (I don’t even have 4 soles left for a taxi) and finally find Scotiabank. On the way back I stop where I had a coffee this morning and have fried rice with bits of everything mixed in and meat pieces on the top for my lunch – as always, there is a small bowl of wasabi sauce with it. The strength of the sauce varies from establishment to establishment – sometimes mild and this time very hot (which is better). But never ever a pepper shaker on the table – only ever salt, olive oil, mayo, tomato ketchup and mustard. If you want pepper (and with tomatoes I consider it essential) you have to ask for it and if you’re lucky they’ll have it. After such a big lunch ($7.00) I feel like a siesta and come back here for a sleep. Then I feel like lying in the afternoon sun and cross the road to the park and lie on a bench seat for half an hour before finding a hardware store and buying the tape I need to fix the shower head. They don’t have duct tape, so I settle for insulation tape which should do the job equally well. The proof will be in the morning when I take my next shower. I'm still undecided about going to Macchupiccu because of the altitude - I'm struggling here in Cusco at less than 4,000 metres but if I do go it'll be with an operator that carries oxygen for the clients. I'll finish this post now - enough for one day. Ciao.

Not that unusual to see someone connected to oxygen here in Cusco.

Member airlines of the Air New Zealand alliance fly here daily.

Sunday 20 May, 2018, Puno to Cusco.

It’s 7am and I’m already at the coach terminal as I woke early, showered and made (for the first time) quick cooking oats for breakfast (with banana as a sweetener). The Airbnb here in Puno wasn’t the best – some Peruvian hosts probably need some coaching on what Western world visitors expect as a bare minimum. Having said that, the shower was good here (once you managed to get it adjusted to the desired temperature). I hope my next accommodation in Cusco at a hostel is better. I should get there around 4pm. As I sit here the calls for business ring out around the terminal building from the various coach companies like the Muslim calls to prayer – chants I can’t understand but that sound imploring.

It's 6pm and I’m in Cusco and after half an hour on the coach was beginning to think the NZD$345 train fare maybe wasn’t such a bad idea after all – the road was so bumpy I thought my fillings would fall out – corrugated for about 4 or 5 hours of the trip. Not just intermittent, continuous. I was seriously worried that the vibration would damage my laptop. Thankfully I’d carried my headphones in my carry bag with me and so was able to use them all the way to listen to the music I enjoy – so nice to enjoy the luxury of VIP class on the coach, which is very similar to business class on a long-haul flight. Big, wide, comfortable seats that recline back as far as 160 degrees, seat back TV screens, pillows, rugs, meal and drinks service – really luxurious. I may be spoilt for any future coach trips in Peru after that. The scenery on the trip was spectacular – the Andes are a spectacle. I only took a couple of photos because in the end it was all so beautiful that there wouldn’t be any point in taking more. After arriving in Cusco the usual swarm of taxi drivers approached looking for business but of course I had no address to go to. I just walked across the road from the coach terminal and checked into the first Hostel I saw – 30 soles per night for a small single room on the 3^rd floor and bathroom and toilet only a few steps away. It looks clean and the shower looks to have hot and cold water (it has two taps, at least). I think I’m the only person staying here. I’ll look at a few others tomorrow and decide if I can do better for the same price or slightly more (a bigger room with a double bed and en suite, perhaps, or with breakfast included). I had a quick walk around the adjacent streets after dropping off my bags and found I am only 100 metres from the main road which has lots of (expensive) restaurants on it and plenty of hotels and hostels. I walked a little further and found a nice clean restaurant full of local diners enjoying a late lunch (or early tea) and ordered the 1/8^th chicken with (of course) fries as I could see that it had a salad bar as well. I also got a bowl of chicken and rice soup, so it was very good value for 8 soles, and all I could eat. The chicken was a generous portion of nice moist breast. Nothing else to report today so a shorter post than usual. Ciao. 

First class service in VIP class on Cruz del Sur coachlines, Puno to Cusco.

Day two in Puno

The big market day in Puno has to be seen to be believed – street after street for blocks of vendors selling everything from the expected fruit and vegetables to every kind of meat and fish (all outside on trestle tables or the road) as well as clothing, used car and bike parts, second hand everything you can possibly imagine. I only wanted some fruit and bought a pear for 1 sol and a bunch of Lady Finger bananas for the same price. I’d have had no trouble getting the piece of cord I was after yesterday that I couldn’t get. The floating island residents buy miles of that to tie their small pieces of “island” together to make one big enough to live on. I took a photo of a couple of Peruvian women who were selling their vegetables and they soon had their hands out for a tip (which I gave them, of course). As I was walking around the streets following the rail lines hoping to come across the Peru Rail ticketing office to ask about a train to Cusco a big diesel engine trundled down the track toward the market, blowing its horn every 5 seconds to warn the street vendors to move their products off the railway line or risk losing them. I could see the sellers scurrying to drag all their stuff off the line but wondered if for some it was not possible and their fruit and veg were run over. I hope not. The quantity of food on offer is mind boggling – 6 tonne trucks loaded with cobs of corn or what have you, not just one truck but numerous. Just as many loaded with every other vegetable or fruit being sold in the market (and nuts and grains and flours and pastas and spices, everything). I wondered if there would be enough people in all of Peru to consume the vast quantities of produce on offer. Some streets seem to be dedicated to the sale of one type of produce, such as eggs – truckloads of them, stacked on 2 ½ dozen trays, 20 layers high, all along the street. By nightfall there will be a lot of perishable food going back to the villages it came from, I imagine. I couldn’t find the ticket office for Peru Rail and needed to return to the Airbnb to use the loo (you only use a public loo in Peru in an emergency) and referred back to the map I should have taken with me. Off I went again on foot to the ticket office. There’s a train three times a week, the next being Monday. The cost, USD240.00 (NZD345.00) one way Puno to Cusco, 10 hours by train. I considered it but decided against it – only for wealthy Americanos. I’d tried to book a bus earlier but, as often happens with internet purchases, the transaction failed using my debit card. So I hailed one of those three wheeled “tuktuk”s and headed for the coach terminal to sort out a ticket – 3 sols for the trip in that kind of “buggy”. Half the price of a taxi. At the Cruz del Sur counter I explained how I’d had trouble buying my ticket on their web site but had blocked the last seat on the coach in VIP class in the process. The sales person pulled up the seat map on the screen and I could see the seat that I’d requested but he couldn’t unblock the hold on it. Fortunately, there was still a couple of VIP seats left on the service I wanted (8:00am departure Sunday morning) so I got one after all – 80 soles. A lot more expensive than the 20 soles I’ve been paying on Flores coaches, but Cruz del Sur is a first-class operator and I chose VIP for the extra comfort it offers (and the meal en route). Without my translator in tow I feel I can spend more on extra comfort anyway. As I opened my wallet to pay for the ticket I realised my debit card wasn’t in it – I’d left it on the table next to my laptop where I’d tried to do the online booking. Luckily I’d been to an ATM the day before and had drawn out 400 soles so I had enough cash on me to buy it. I’ll need to be up early to check in by 7:20am for the coach (but I’m sure it won’t be a problem if I’m 15 minutes late). I’ve spoken to several tourists here who’ve been to Machupicchu and they all highly recommend it. Should be good. After a bad experience in Arequipa when I was switched from what looked like a good Airbnb to an inferior one I’ve decided not to book my accommodation in Cusco until I get there – it’s low season and there’ll be plenty of hostels to choose from close to the coach terminal or the Plaza de Armas. I looked at a couple here in Puno and discovered that for only 20 soles more than I’m paying for an Airbnb I could have got a private room with double bed, hot water in the bathroom and a buffet breakfast included. So that may be the way I go while in Peru in future. I lodged a complaint with Airbnb about the switched accommodation and they will probably notice that I’m no longer booking through them and may offer compensation – they’re pretty good to deal with.

I just went out for a bite to eat and met a couple of backpackers who’ve already done Northern Peru and have given me some wonderful information about what to visit North of Lima – so good when you initiate conversation with other people as you travel around and discover gems that you wouldn’t otherwise. We shared an hour or so over a couple of beers – he’s an American and she’s Italian – and they’ve travelled extensively, including to some remote places I’ve also been to, like the Gilis off Lombok. We traded information, as you do, and I encouraged them to visit New Zealand, of course. My “bite to eat” was a chicken burger served with a fried egg in it, tomato and shredded lettuce and (of course) fries on the side – 4 soles! Food is so cheap here. The most popular street food from what I’ve observed is a plate of fries topped with thinly sliced deep fried saveloy and ketchup – real healthy! Everyone seems to be eating this combination, probably because it’s cheap and filling. So, that’s my day – I should be able to write on the coach trip tomorrow and post another tomorrow night. Until then, ciao.

The whole street was stacked with eggs for sale.

They hid behind their hats but still wanted a tip for this photo.

Friday 18 May, 2018 in Puno, Peru.

Having not been able to buy a piece of cord for a washing line last night I hung my damp clothing on the coat hangers on the open "wardrobe" in my room and they were dry this morning - so I can put on a fresh shirt after 3 days. I tried the shower last night and was relieved to find it provided the best shower I've had for days - the gas califont heated the water to very hot and with a bit of adjusting of the cold tap got an excellent shower. I hope the gas bottle doesn't run empty before I leave.
I woke up early this morning after a good night's sleep on the rock-hard mattress and went to explore the kitchen for coffee - no joy, although there's a dripolator in there. No problem, I'd bought a small can of instant coffee in Arica for just such an occasion. I removed the plastic lid and got hold of the ring to remove the foil seal (I hadn't opened it previously) and began to pull - suddenly there was a puff of air and instant coffee powder all over the kitchen! I'd never even considered the prospect of the reduced air pressure at this altitude having an effect on the contents of a sealed container packed and purchased at sea level! It really surprised me. I got my coffee and ate the remnants of the bread roll I'd snacked on as I traveled to Puno yesterday. I'll go out for breakfast shortly. I've decided to only drink bottled water for the rest of my trip as the tap water here is suspect. I bought a 625ml bottle last night for 1 sol (.50 cents). Good value.
Well, it's 8pm now and I'm back in my Airbnb after a wonderful day of tours, first a half day tour to the floating islands on Lake Titicaca (30 soles) where the tour guide introduced the group to the ancient culture of the inhabitants and explained how the Inkas had left them alone and not interfered with their way of life and thankfully the Spanish did the same, so their unique way of life has been preserved (so far). The guide explained that the children go to school on the islands (by boat) until they reach high school age and then come to Puno to complete their education. The problem is, once they get to Puno they discover a whole new way of life (social media, fast food, sport, etc) and don't want to return to the islands as adults and so the population of the islands is shrinking and unless some of them return to have families this unique lifestyle and culture will disappear. It would be tragic if that happened but at the moment tourism is largely supporting the population of the islands closest to Puno. Lake Titicaca is huge and to my surprise was once part of the Pacific ocean and therefore salt water. This is why there are huge salt flats in Bolivia and Chile - the salt water being heavier sunk to the bottom and deepest parts in Chile and Bolivia and as the lake has slowly shrunk it left large areas to dry up and form those huge flats. It still has a salt content of about 1% but is considered to be fresh water. The deepest part of the lake is around 180 metres. The more remote islands don't want to be part of the tourism bonanza and prefer to continue life as they have for thousands of years, supporting themselves with fishing, hunting (birds) and gathering (eggs). The tour was fascinating and the non-English speaking inhabitants explained through the guide how they build the islands and how much work is involved in keeping them able to be lived on. The homes, for instance, are built on platforms of the reeds which are about a metre higher than the rest of the island to keep them dry. The water is only about a foot below the surface they walk on and a new layer of the reeds has to be laid on the island every two weeks to keep it built up and dry (ish). The afternoon tour (40 soles) was to a pre-Inka period site of ruins an hour from Puno where the burial process and lots more was explained by the guide. After getting back to Puno I stopped for a beer in a bar in the tourist sector - 12 soles - usually I'd pay about 6 soles for the same 620ml bottle. I  made up for it with a meal of 1/4 roast chicken served on a bed of (hot this time) chips and free salad bar. The main course was preceded by a large bowl of chicken soup with lots of rice and a few chickens feet in it. All for 11 soles. Lunch, in between tours, was more expensive at an upmarket restaurant in the tourist sector - roast guinea pig! 35 soles.
Tomorrow is the weekly market day in Puno when hundreds of vendors from the region descend on Puno to trade their wares - it covers several blocks of the town. I'm looking forward to  that. Catch up again tomorrow night.

Guinea Pig for lunch, anyone? Head and all!

My lunch about to come out of the wood fired oven.

Thursday 17 May, 2018, Arequipa to Puno.

I’d booked on the 10:30am coach but got up early and packed and tried to take a shower but couldn’t get any hot water so just moved on and had breakfast and left the place early (it wasn’t the place I’d booked – I’d been switched). The taxi to the coach terminal should have been in the crusher – a wreck with no suspension. I worked out the fare on my way there – 7.7 soles, 70 cents more than I paid on Uber for the same journey. The driver didn’t question it, not surprisingly, considering the state of the vehicle. I arrived at the coach terminal at 8:27am and knew there was a coach departing at 8:30am so quickly paid my departure tax and hurried out to the coach – just my luck it was the same old rust bucket I’d come up from Tacna on (I recognised the rust pattern). I dropped my bags at the door and rushed back inside to get my ticket changed – no problem. Back outside I waited for my bag to be loaded without any joy and eventually took it with me onto the coach at 8:35am. As soon as I was on we pulled out. I wondered if in fact they’d been waiting for me to get on with my bag. If I get to Puno early enough I may be able to hang out my laundry which almost dried last night. The coach was almost empty so plenty of room for my bag and I have the same front window seat I’d booked on the 10:30am departure so I’ll enjoy the scenery en route. As usual I’m the only gringo on the bus.  I have my phone at the ready to capture the magnificent volcanos surrounding the city. After crossing to the other side of the terminus we stop to pick up the economy passengers who presumably have paid less than 20 soles for the trip. After an inspector gets on to make sure everyone has a paid ticket we depart but before we’re out of  the city we stop and more passengers get on who I suspect pay the driver cash and even less again. The windows are dirty so it’s hard to find a spot to take a photo but I manage a couple of the mountains and a car from the 40s or 50s like you’d see in Cuba. The front window of the bus has a large message painted across it which makes photography tricky between the letters – I’m not sure but maybe it says “This coach for the crusher in March 2018”). If there is Aircon it’s not working or switched on and the coach is uncomfortably warm and stuffy. I’m in the “suicide seat” in front of the window but the seat belt is broken and this mountainous route is notorious for coaches going over the edge – I reason that a seat belt isn’t going to be much help in that situation anyway so just decide to have faith in the driver and put my trust in God. After 90 minutes we finally reach the outskirts of this huge city and the delimited speed zone. The double yellow lines on the road don’t seem to mean the same as they do in NZ – here they’re an invitation to pass, apparently. At last I see a very active volcano in the distance and hope we pass close enough for me to get a good picture as it’s sending up lots of smoke and ash. As we continue to climb my ears are hurting and we pass an older B-train that the tractor unit’s 400 horses have found too much and died – the trailer unit’s partly blocking the road but we sneak past without going over the edge. A few kilometres further on we start passing not the single shrines that populate the sides of the roads here but multiples of 10 or 11 where a minibus full of unfortunate travellers have gone over the edge to their death. I half expect to see a group of 40 or 50 where a coachload have met their waterloo. We finally reach a plateau and a sign advising “ Zona de Vicuna” and within minutes I see minibuses stopped on  the side of the road and numerous of the native animals being photographed by tourists. The coach doesn’t stop of course but I manage to capture a photo of the back leg of one of the Alpaca-like animals. They are numerous and often close to the road. I’m feeling light headed and wondering if my phone has an altimeter app I can download – I’ll look when I get to Puno if it’s not too late by then. I saw some coach companies have oxygen masks on them, but not this El Cheapo one. En route the coach stops in the middle of nowhere a couple of times to let women in their 50s or 60s off with their huge bundles at the start of dirt footpaths that wind their way up into the hills for miles. My guess is that they’ve been into the cities to sell their handwoven Alpaca rugs they’ve spent weeks weaving for a few Soles and are returning with things they need for living in their remote locations. At midday we pass through a village called Imata which is nestled alongside a nice clean stream. We’re still climbing across the plateau and it’s so hot up front I have to move to the back of the coach where it’s cooler on the shady side. The window is wired shut and the toilet has a padlock on it so no-one can steal the contents (?). Everything in Peru seems to be locked up against theft. Except the hundreds of abandoned derelict cars in the back streets of the cities. I don’t think some owners have ever heard of oil and so the cars only run until they run dry. I hear a few knocking big-end bearings in cars being driven around the city. ­­­­After cresting the plateau edge at an altitude of 4,400 metres there’s a large cobalt blue lake in the valley below which I guess may be an arm of Lake Titicaca. We descend to skirt the lake and I have doubts about my previous assumption – we’re heading away from it. An hour later we stop for a comfort stop in a small village where  the toilets are the “Asian” style level with the ground and “squat if you can” type. I just about knock myself out on a low lintel above a doorway in the darkened room but manage to grab a cold bottle of Sprite on my way out of the shop cum toilet. The cashier doesn’t even flinch when I hand her 1.5 soles in coins (despite me being a gringo). If I’d asked “Que Precio?” it probably would have been 3 soles. On this route every other vehicle is a tanker carrying around 50,000 litres of fuel – we have passed hundreds, sometimes several at a time, and with Bolivia having lost its coast access in the War of the Pacific I surmise they may be heading there. The coach starts down a river valley with a sizable braided river which widens the further we go and I expect we’ll reach the shores of Lake Titicaca before long as we’ve been traveling for about 5 hours now. A few kilometres before we reach Juliaca the side of the road looks like the local tip for hundreds of metres. Before long we reach Juliaca where the roads through the town are so bad we risk breaking an axle and crawl along at 5 kph. I log on to Google Maps and see that Puno is the next town about an hour away. Eventually we get back onto a paved highway and resume normal speeds. For some reason we do a U-turn and head back in the opposite direction. I wonder if the driver is lost – I know we’ve changed drivers because this one won’t even pass slower traffic when there’s 2 kms of clear road on straight stretches. The last one only needed 200 metres clear ahead of a blind bend while passing petrol tankers. We’re back on the rough road and I can’t type any longer – too difficult. We stop at the Juliaca terminal for 10 minutes and when we go to leave the driver selects the wrong gear and we move forward instead of back. I’m thankful he wasn’t the driver for the first half of the trip over the mountains. We finally reach the outskirts of Puno at 3:30pm. What I’ve seen of Lake Titicaca so far resembles the Okavango Delta (rushes) but in the far distance I can see water. As we crest a hill into Puno the lake itself is revealed in all its glory. I’m glad to see that Puno is much smaller than Arequipa and looks more prosperous. Tourism injects a lot of money into the economy here. The Airbnb is a bit hard to find – the numbers on the street jump from 724 to 700 but I see a door with doorbells in between the two numbers and press all 8 buttons as there’s no names or clues as to who they belong to. In a minute Roberto, the host, arrives and I’m relieved to find he speaks good English – it just makes communication that much easier, especially as he has to explain the water system for the shower, which involves switching on a pump and the best time to get any water pressure (this is Peru, remember!). The room is spartan but clean and I’m sure I’ll sleep okay on the rock-hard mattress. Unfortunately there’s no clothes line so I may have to buy a piece of cord tonight and hang my laundry in the bathroom or somewhere – maybe across my room, if I can find two anchor points.

I went out to find a street vendor selling anything palatable and soon found one selling bowls of noodles with spicy chicken pieces, which I requested. I suspect I’d been charged gringo prices at 5 soles but I didn’t question it – everyone has to make a living. The bowl is half filled with lukewarm (as usual) fries and the noodles stacked on top. Next time I’ll ask for “No papas”. The noodles on their own are enough. The air is noticeably thinner here and I find I'm having to consciously breathe deeper to get enough oxygen and I still feel lightheaded. I walked around looking for a store that might sell cord or string but the best I can find is one that wants to sell me a 2000 metre roll of cord just the right diameter for 20 soles. I explained that I only needed 5 metres hoping I could get that much off the roll for, say, 5 soles. No joy. I’ll just find a laundromat tomorrow, it’s easier. At least I did finally find a map of Peru and of Bolivia (I'm on the border now and may go there, but since it's even poorer than Peru, will be booking top class Airbnbs).With nothing else to do I’ve returned to my room to finish this post and will watch TV tonight if I can find an English language channel. Ciao.

A distant volcano erupting en route to Puno.

Tuesday 15 May 2018, Tacna to Arequipa

I spoke too soon! Not long after posting my last blog I had lunch cooked by Greta (spaghetti with tuna and tomato sauce). It wasn’t her cooking, I assured her, because my stomach had been feeling a bit squeamish all morning. I felt I needed a siesta after the meal and lay down, but not for long. I could feel it coming on, as you do, and decided a walk outside in the fresh air was called for. I just managed to get across the road to a tree with a lot of weeds under it when it happened. I felt a lot better after the event, as you do! I kept walking and decided to try to retrace my route back into town – it wasn’t long before I began to recognise landmarks I’d passed the night before in the dark and realised how close I’d been to the AirBnB but for the fact I couldn’t see the sign. In 15 minutes I was back in the city. I needed a haircut and found a unisex salon in the Central Market which did the job for 10 soles – quarter what I pay in NZ. She did a great job, too (#2 as usual in this heat). I needed money to settle my account with Daniela at the AirBnB and drew out enough for several days expenses. I intended to stay another night in Tacna so my translator, Greta, decided to move on to her next “couch”. I’ll miss her company, but she’d been long enough in Tacna and was ready to go. I got back to the AirBnB around 9pm and was panicked to find I didn’t have the house keys in my pocket. I thought maybe I’d left them in my room when I went out, so I rang the door bell twice and sent a text message to Greta who I guessed would be inside. No response. I phoned Daniela and left a message on her phone, thinking she’d be inside as well. She wasn’t. In desperation I decided I had no choice but to check into a hostel just around the corner for the night and resolve the problem in the morning. I was shown to my room with a private en suite (30 soles per night) and dropped my bag of shopping on the dresser and suddenly realised that the keys were in it! Excited, I checked straight out and let myself in to the AirBnB. Greta was there – she’d heard the doorbell ring but had ignored it because it wasn’t her place. I was pleased to be back in my own space.

This morning, unsure of my plans, Greta moved on and I toyed with the idea of going back to Arica in Chile because being a Gringo I didn’t feel welcome in Peru – even the buses with space wouldn’t stop and pick me up despite my frantic waving them down. I’d had the same problem the previous night at a sidewalk hamburger vendor who ignored my indications that I wanted a burger and kept serving the locals ahead of me – I gave up in the end and walked away. It almost put me off Peru and sent me back to Chile, where I felt welcome. With Greta gone I checked the availability of the place in Arica where we’d previously stayed and found it was full, so decided to continue my trip in Peru. I looked at a map of the country and decided to spend one more night in Tacna then catch a bus to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titikaka. I booked a place in Puno for the following night plus 2 more. Then I went to book my bus and discovered Puno can’t be reached in one day from Tacna and requires an overnight in Arequipa. Trip Advisor was helpful in researching which bus company to use and how often the buses depart Tacna for there. It was 11am and I hadn’t booked any AirBnB in Arequipa so quickly sorted that and packed in a hurry and headed by taxi to the bus terminal, hoping for a departure at midday. I was lucky – buses leave frequently for Arequipa and I booked one for midday (it’s about a 6 hour trip – 20 soles or NZD10.00). I half expected to see Greta at the bus terminal waiting for one as well, but she either caught an earlier one or hitchhiked. I’m writing this on the bus as we pass through the desert with dunes that would rival the Sahara. I’m imagining that Arequipa will be greener and if not that Puno (being on the shores of Lake Titikaka) will be. Occasionally we cross narrow river valleys which are green oasis of crops and huge orange coloured areas where it looks like peppers or chillies are drying in the sun. It seldom ever rains here so they can be left to dry for weeks without fear of spoiling.  Be nice to see some evidence of recent rain.  My travels are impromptu but AirBnB is so cheap in Peru that even if you don’t reach your destination on the night you’ve booked the loss is minimal (NZD15.00 in the case of Puno). The Flores coach line bus I’m on isn’t as nice as the ones in Chile and I suspect they may buy late model high mileage vehicles at cheap prices from Chilean coach companies or use theirs for much longer (they look tired, so I hope they’re reliable). There are a few of the three wheeled vehicles like the Thai Tuktuk’s (motorbikes with one wheel at the front and two at the back with a cabin big enough for two or three passengers) but I expect there will be more in Arequipa. They’re fun to ride in, open to the weather and cheaper than taxis (not that that’s an issue here!). I like Uber the best – great service, reliable, cheap. I bought a Peruvian chip for my phone this morning so I can activate Whatsapp in case I need to text or phone anyone – it sounds like a great app. Anyone else use it?

I’m wrong about the coaches – I just happen to be on the oldest rust bucket in the fleet as we just stopped at a beautiful new coach terminal at Moquegua and there are other coaches there as new as the ones in Chile. I’ll book a sleeper on one of the overnight coaches in Peru, for sure. The mountains around the town are magnificent – barren of any vegetation, but huge, and after a 5 minute stop we’re soon climbing into them after crossing some wide flood plains on the valley floor. After we reach top of the mountains we begin to cross a huge flat sand plateau (much bigger than Lake Taupo) with hundreds if not thousands of small 3 metre by 3 metre flimsy huts scattered across it – there’s no sign of human habitation and I wonder what they are. For mile after mile the sand is marked into half acre plots with rows of stones for as far as the eye can see with occasional rows marking out access roads. Some of the plots have numerous small piles of stones stacked on them. I’m intrigued and want to know if the desert comes to life seasonally with a crop that transient workers harvest – I have to research that. The plateau is surrounded by extinct or dormant volcanoes but I feel sure I’ll see an active one before I depart Peru. Vehicle tracks across the sand add to the intrigue as they seem to head out into nowhere. I’m wondering if there’s a thriving 4WD adventure tourism enterprise operating here like there is in Dubai.

After getting to the other side of the plateau we begin a long steep descent through mountainous terrain and the late afternoon sun enhances the colours of the rocks making them come alive. The reds in particular are nothing short of vibrant. I open Google maps hoping to see how far we are from our destination but can’t get a signal. At the bottom of the long descent we reach another fertile valley floor with water and rice appears to be being harvested in paddocks bordered by banana palms. This valley looks very fertile with good dark soil. There’s what looks to be a thriving little settlement of rickety houses and food markets and the coach slows enough for a few hawkers to jump on with their breads and soft drinks before speeding up again with them on board. I guess they’ll jump off at the next village and ride another coach back in the opposite direction to their starting point – back and forth between the same two points all day (and maybe all night). The road is a switchback up the side of the valley in order to ascend the steep valley walls and the coach is crawling along in a low gear to make the grade. It stops for a moment and the hawkers alight and get into a van that must take them back to the village they just left. It seems to be a symbiotic relationship between the coach companies and the hawkers. I arrive into Arequipa around 6pm and it’s dark and as we descend the mountain to the city I’m staggered at the size of it – it’s huge, spread over a large area. I expected a small city. I catch a taxi to the AirBnB which is quite a way from the coach terminal and give the driver 10 soles (it was probably only a 6 sole fare). The “house” looks like it was once a Spanish mansion and has been turned into accommodation now. It’s large and spacious with character. The English speaking hostess is nowhere to be found but a non-English speaking worker there shows me to my spartan but large and clean room. There is a dining room on the ground floor and the place reminds me of Fawlty Towers. I find a café just up the road and order a burger for tea – the first food for over 24 hours as I’m still feeling a bit squeamish. I keep it down overnight and in the morning order scrambled eggs and coffee for breakfast in the dining room. There’s only the non-English speaking cooks on duty but they understand my order. After breakfast I look for someone to pay the bill but there’s not a soul to be found even though there’s large pots of water boiling away on the gas hob out the back. I start my way upstairs when the doorbell rings and I go back and answer it – it’s a young German couple with backpacks who have a booking. I invite them in and explain that there’s no-one around and we chat for a few minutes about what to do and see around Arequipa. Apparently there’s a deep canyon worth a visit that they intend to do while they’re here. I hadn’t heard of it. When the hostess finally appears I ask if I can stay another night as my coach to Puno doesn’t leave until the next day. Regrettably the place is full so I book another Airbnb in the city and check out. I pick up my ticket to Puno on the way. The Uber driver goes to the address supplied by Airbnb but there’s no-one there so he phones the host and finds that the address is wrong and that it’s about a kilometre away. I book his car for an hour at 25 soles so I can do some other jobs and head back into town. This new Airbnb has a nicer bedroom but I’m not sure about the house – the bedroom’s on the 3^rd floor for a start and it’s dearer than the first one despite being much further from the city centre and coach terminal. It’s only one night so I’ll put up with it. The host is friendly but again no English even though I always apply the “English language” filter to the booking process. I guess they get more bookings by advertising they speak English. I’ve done my laundry (by hand in cold water in a tub) and hung it out to dry, but I’m not hopeful – the courtyard is surrounded by tall buildings that shade it and there’s no breeze. I may have to wear the same shirt again tomorrow, for the 3^rd day. And I don’t get into Puno early enough to hang it out there either. I’d take it to a laundromat if I could find one nearby. Arequipo is surrounded by huge volcanic cones, mostly with snow on the tops – it looks good now and must look great in winter. I wish I had more time here and may have to come back on my way to Santiago in June. The altitude here seems to be affecting me but it will be worse tomorrow in Puno which is even higher. I remember the chap on a tour I was on who died of a heart attack in Denver after complaining to me of “indigestion”, which I put down to airline food, not realising he was in need of oxygen and medical help. He died in bed that night while smoking a cigarette (which burnt the bedding in the Denver Fairmont Hotel!). I felt bad that I’d not recognised his need. Nothing else to report today – I hope I have a better one tomorrow. Ciao.