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 3rd 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 3rd
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.
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