Pisco y las Islas Ballestas: Not worth spending a night in Pisco to go to, unless you like birds

This is the port where we got the boat for the tour.

I was pretty disappointed in Las Islas Ballestas. I only have a few photos because my camera battery died. (After my old camera was stolen, I vacillated on getting a new one, and ultimately decided to go ahead and get it. The new one took AA batteries. I didn't even know cameras still did that!) Here is my tripadvisor review:

While making my way up the Panamericana, I stopped in Pisco for the night, in order to go to the Islas Ballestas. (Unfortunately, Pisco suffered major damage from the 2007 earthquake and is still "transitioning," so there wasn't much happenin' there.) I left early the next morning for the Islas tour. It's a choppy, 30 minute boat ride out to the islands where, for years, the local birds have been shitting. When it piles up, men collect it, because it is a good fertilizer. It's known as guano and its exportation can be lucrative.

This is what you see: rock islands, colored white by the guano; a LOT of the guano-producing birds, some sea lions, and a few penguins. (Okay, the penguins were cool.)

If you're traveling between Arequipa and Lima, it might not be worth the stop.

I did not actually take this picture. But I wanted to show you the guano.

Ica, Huacachina, y vino

After Nazca, I moved on to Ica, where there are two main things to do: go to the nearby town of Huacachina and take bodega tours.

Huacachina is popular because it has the only natural desert oasis in the Americas. In the middle of the dunes, there is a natural lagoon (supposedly it has healing properties, but then again, that claim is made for many places in South America). The lagoon's water level has been receding in recent years because locals are pumping out ground water, so what you see isn't as magnificent as it once was. But still, it's pretty amazing. How come the dunes don't slurp up the water?

The activities here are sandboarding and riding in a dune buggy. I did neither because I had planned on going to the bodegas afterwards, and 1: didn't think about all the sand I would have been carrying with me and 2: those sandboards were the ricketiest things I've ever seen. And while falling and hurting yourself is really funny when with friends, it's not quite so amusing when you're on your own and have to travel with all of your shit, twisted ankles and all. Oh, there's a third reason: unlike snowboarding, where, when you're done with a run, you take a chairlift back to the top, here you have to unstrap and climb up with your board in the trillion degree sand. So, who's up for a wine tour?!

Shabby boards

After Huacahina I hired a local taxi driver to 'chofer' me around to two bodegas: Hacienda Tacama Bodega and Bodega El Catador, before bringing me back to Ica to catch my bus to Pisco.

I wouldn't know the difference bewteen these wines, except that liz introduced me to Tacama while in Arequipa. It's one of the oldest and best bodegas in Peru. Unfortunately, there was a horrendous earthquake near Ica in 2007 which had done considerable damage to Ica and it's surrounding area. It's richter number is still disputed: it varies from 7.8 to 8.1, and the whole thing was/is a political scandal (surprise, surprise) because money donated to the area from international organizations hasn't been seen by locals, who are still struggling to re-build. Unbeknownst to me and my driver (which I am suspicious of, I think he knew, but wanted the fare) Tacama official tours have been postponed until reconstruction is completed. So while I didn't get to see the whole operation, I did get to peek around, and taste their wines, the most important part.

It looks dry, doesn't it? Well, it was.

The second bodega was an artisanal bodega which specializes in sweet wines and pisco. Pisco is an alcohol, like vodka, but made with grapes, and Peruvians love their Pisco. On this tour, I got to see the antiquated ways they processed their wine (which didn't seem sanitary, but then again it's alcohol) and tasted all sorts of sweet wines (which I don't like), piscos, and a Peruvian version of Bailey's, with Pisco, spices, and milk. My stomach is turning thinking about that trago.

I'm sitting on a huge press, which functions when people turn the giant wooden handle on the enourmous screw in the background. It gets the last of the juices from the grape skins.

Instead of wooden barrels, they used clay pots. So resourceful.

Nazca

The Nazca lines are drawings on the ground believed to have been made by the Nazca culture between 200 and 700 B.C. They were made by removing the reddish pebbles on the ground, revealing the lighter sand/earth underneath. No one is exactly sure with what purpose they were constructed. Perhaps it was religious or astronomical. So far, the windless, arid climate has preserved these drawings. They can only be seen in two ways: either walk up a really tall ladder at the mirador to get a look at just two of the pictures (lame!) or take a sobrevuelo (an overflight.) I took a sobrevuelo.

Luckily for me, two other couples were on my flight, which meant that since I was solo, I got to sit next to the pilot. His name was Andy, (in South America they love naming kids with American names, Yessica, Brian, etc.) and belive it or not, he lived in Chicago for 3 years in the town next to where I grew up while he was getting his pilot's license. No me digas! (you don't say!)

It's one thing to be in a 6 passenger plane and flying straight. It's another to be dipping at an angle doing 360 clockwise for one side to see the lines, and then leaning over to the other side and going counter-clockwise for the rest of the passengers immediately after. But Andy showed me how to lean into it...

This is the fertile land next to the desert area where the lines are.

Can you see the bird?

This one has a monkey in the top, left-hand corner. (Nazca is no where near the jungle, or monkeys f.y.i.)

This is a hummingbird.

While good at fixing planes, the mechanic that took this shot clearly does not know how to compose a good photograph.

Monasterio de Santa Catalina

Not too shabby, eh? I'm surprised America's Next Top Model hasn't done a photo shoot here.

The Santa Catalina monastery was a cloistered convent built in 1580. In these times, it was traditional for the second son or daughter in each family to enter religious service. This convent accepted only women from high-class Spanish families who could provide huge dowries. It was really only a convent by name, not for those set upon living a life of chastity and poverty. Each nun at Santa Catalina had between one and four servants or slaves, and the nuns invited musicians to perform in the convent, gave parties and lived a lavish lifestyle.

In 1871 the pope sent a Dominican nun to clean the place up, return the dowries, free the slaves and bring piety back to the place. In 1970, it was restored and open to the public. There are still about 20 devout nuns, living in one small section of the monastery.

Liz with el Misti (active volcano) behind her. This is taken from the mirador (lookout) of the monastery.

I'm pretending to cook with an old iron skillet. I would have been a happy servant here.

Finally!!! Liz makes it to a confessional!

Semaforos y Alpaca Mundo con Liz!

A lovely shot of Arequipa's main plaza. Right below the terrace we were on was one of very few intersections with a stoplight. (Driving or walking through the rest of the non-stoplight, non-stop sign intersections was tricky, you couldn't be bashful, you had to put the left foot in, and then the right foot in, and walk into the melee with faith that they'll stop, which they will.)

So, when this particular stoplight allowed for pedestrian crossing, it played a little ditty: a tinny Beethoven sampling followed by staccato beeping. It was amusung at first, but if you sat in any restaurant nearby, you'd go mad listening to it. Nice plaza otherwise.


Liz and I went to Alpaca World, which I thought was just going to be a store. It was that, PLUS an almost-museum of Alpaca! There was a sort-of farm with a few live alpaca milling about; piles of shorn wool, ready to be cleaned; a little stand showing how it is cleaned and sorted; and outside, some camera-ready scenes showing how you get the final products: hanks of finished, dyed yarn, hanging from nails in the wall and two lonely-seeming women weaving with the yarn. Honestly the women looked more forlorn than the animals at the fake farm in front.

If so much wool is black and brown (alpaca wool falls in a 24 (I think!) color spectrum from white to black) then how do we get all the pretty colors? That's what I want to know.

Juanjo Language School

I took a few brush-up Spanish classes at Juanjo language school in Arequipa. It was pretty informal, run by a married couple: Juan Jose (they call him Pepe, I’m not sure why) and his wife Malena. They are totally bizarre. When I first met Pepe, he wanted to find out my language skills and did so by asking me about myself and telling me some personal stories. One of the things that most stood out was that he used to take and sell steroids. He told me “Es divertido e interesante jugar con el cuerpo.” (It’s interesting and fun to play with your body) When people that you’re paying in a foreign country start telling you these things in a foreign language, you just nod and act polite, ask some questions, and keep the fact that they’re crazy to yourself.

Sometime later he went on to explain that through his “supplement” business he met lots of people. (His uncle or some relative is the mayor of Arequipa, so he’s well connected anyway.) You can imagine the types to come and buy steroids. One was a tattoo artist, who he recommended to me if I wanted a tattoo or piercing, no-thank-you-very-much. Another was actually part of a group of robbers.

These robbers have two modus operandi. First, they operate pirate taxi companies, pick up passengers, take them NOT to their destination, but to a place where other thugs are waiting, hit you until you give them your PIN and debit card and then leave you. Sometimes it ends even less nicely then just being stranded and beat up. He told me about what happened once when one of the thugs by chance attacked a policeman. It ended with the policeman getting a payoff. Not a surprise. “Are there any policemen that don’t take bribes?” “The women cops,” he said. “They’ve got something to prove.”

Pepe then instructed me as how to AVOID these taxis. He said they all used to be red, but now they’re blue, because people were catching on. Jesus Cristo! He showed me how to choose a taxi “con confianza,” with confidence. There are three criteria: the taxi has to have a certain license plate with the same numbers written on all the doors, a particular style of sign on top, and a special certificate inside. I’m not sure someone couldn’t reproduce these, so I went with the three main companies.

The second thing thugs do is rob houses and sell the stolen goods at a flea market on Saturdays. (A friend had her things stolen on a bus, Pepe said, “Too bad they weren’t stolen in Arequipa, we could have gone to buy them back!) Pepe said he is protected from these house-robbers because of his connections from the supplement business.

Needless to say, classes with Pepe were not only on grammar, but on learning the ways of the underworld in Peru. I could go on at length with other stories he delighted me with about narcotraficantes, but I think you get the picture.

backpacker permutation

After Colca, the next adventure was to travel north to Puno, where you stay when visiting Lake Titicaca. Here, I met up with Liz! We went to the floating islands of the Uros, stepped on their land/reeds, and dressed in their typical clothes! We ran into Rachel, Aine, and Hugh! We had a great time! Unfortunately, I cannot SHOW you any of this because I lost/was robbed of my camera after I returned to Arequipa. And I didn't download the Liz meetup/Puno pictures onto my laptop before that happened. How flashpacker* of me!

Meetup with Liz was great! After spending 7 hours on a bus from Arequipa, I was happy just to stand up. (Un)fortunately we got there at the same time. Liz’s bus should have arrived two hours earlier than mine, but her bus made stops because it kept breaking down. The funny thing, is that when it came into Puno, I bet they kept using it, sending it on to the next destination.

I will give more Puno highlights soon!

*On the way to Lima, I read in Lan-Peru's bilingual, in-flight magazine about a new breed in the evolution of the backpacker. While backpacking implies independent, budget travel, the flashpacker is a bit more money-flexible, isn’t quite so dorm-room/shared bathroom/internet cafe but rather, laptop-toting/picture down-loading/wi-fi signal searching/private room/even boutique hotel.

How low can you go?

Seen in Nazca

Have you ever stayed at (or seen?!) a hotel with zero stars? I think a 1 star hostel in Cadiz for Carnaval was my lowest-rated ever. This isn't my hotel by the way.

Sure, I'll try it

I’m eating a bag of pretzels I just got from Ica Mercado. They’re the thin kind. After the disappointing first bite, I wonder, “Is this what they think pretzels are supposed to taste like?”

I find that when I eat some locally made (junk) foods like these pretzels, cookies, or even ketchup, I am often struck with this succession of thoughts:

Huh. Do they like that their (any food/condiment) tastes like this? It tastes off, am I right? Am I right?!

And yet I keep holding try-outs. Because it’s a beautiful occasion when you can add something to your food repertoire in a foreign country… It's as though, for the short time you're here, you want to form alliances.

You want a candy brand. Buying junk food in new countries is different, it's not like shopping at 7-11. What will these cookies taste like? Will they be better than the chocolatey thing from yesterday? It's sort of exciting!

And the best part is getting to choose who you buy these surprises from: an old woman from her corner cart, maybe a man manning his we've-got-everything-store, or else from the lady in the plaza selling items from the wooden box she has hanging around her neck? What is this dreamy number over here, next to the lollipops and bubble gum? I've never seen THAT before. What do you think THAT's going to be like? Will I like it? It's a gamble. It's worth knowing either way.

Colca Canyon

Colca Canyon's deepest point is at 13,648 feet deep,
which does not necessarily coincide with elevation, I think.

Teisha and I hiking on Day 1

We started our trek by hiking out of the town of Cabanaconde, which is at 10, 784 feet. We left the town around noon and hiked down into the canyon for about 3.5 hours. Our guide enticed us to go a little off the beaten path (literally) to get to a site where there were hot springs. The hike going down into the canyon was not too bad, but I kept thinking that at some point, we were going to have to hike up...

Going down...

The lodge from the first night was a wonderful surprise,
with naturally heated pools, as promised. The huts were nestled
right into the mountain, making it possible to hear the gurgle of the
white waters while eating and resting.

These are the cabins at the lodge. They face the river.

Meeting people, getting to Colca, and more new people

At school one morning, I met a girl named Teisha. Without knowing her for too long, we decided to take a weekend trip to Colca Canyon. She’s a second-year med student from Salt Lake City who is traveling for 9 weeks through South America. One night Teisha and I took a salsa class and met an English girl named Olivia, who is on her second “gap year” from London. Olivia, also a med student, was interested in our trip and decided to come along.

Colca Canyon is more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and there are many tour companies that offer different trips to visit it. We decided on a three-day trek. In order to get to our destination with enough time to hike to the campsite on the first day, we had to leave Arequipa at 3 a.m.! I don’t care where you’re going in the US, but your tour group is not leaving at three in the morning, that much I know. So, I took a nap on Friday afternoon and set my alarm, which turned out to be unnecessary because Tula came in to check on me, had prepared tea and a snack and waited with me until the tour group picked me up, which wasn’t until 3:45-ish. My own mom (no offense mom) wouldn’t even have done that.

So, after a hellish overnight bus trip, we arrived in Chivay with frost on the windows, ate breakfast and then continued on. Along the way, we stopped at an observation point where it was possible to see multitudes of condors. Five minutes would have been enough, but we were there 40… Finally we reached Cabanaconde around lunchtime, where Teisha, Olivia, and I discovered that we were not moving on with the rest of the people that were on our bus, but had our own personal guide, named Diego. But, as luck would have it, ms. serendipity intervened. Before leaving the town for our first trek, Diego ran off to buy something and he came back with three Irish people who had been looking for a guide, so it turned out that we were actually going to be a group of 7. These three, Rachel, Hugh, and Aine (Irish for Anna, pronounced Aña) were just amazing to trek with, and we were so fortunate that they joined us.

These are the condors.

Arequipa y mi familia

Arequipa is the second biggest city in Peru after Lima. In the background of Arequipa are some mountains, but the most spectacular is El Misti, an active volcano. In addition, there is a beautiful river running through the city. It’s fast, kind of clean looking, with boulders and rapids. It’s quite a beautiful sight.

Arequipa doesn’t have a ton of touristy stuff to do. It’s mostly just a regular city, where local people live, work, and play. This is a more preferable place to study and live with a family, then say Cusco, because it’s less touristy. This means that, among other things: there are fewer people begging you to buy their paintings and woven goods (Amiga, comprame algo. Friend, buy something from me), fewer British pubs (I guess the whole world likes a British pub) and it is less expensive in general.

I’m staying with a family at a house in a neighborhood called Umacollo, which is just outside the centro, near the Universidad Católica. The family I’m staying with is fabulous, mostly because the mom is AMAZING. Her name is Tula and she’s silly and wonderful and easy to understand. Both parents are dentists. They have two children, 23-year-old Daniel who is an industrial engineer and is also in a band (they practice their Latin/Funk/Rock in the basement) and 21-year-old Claudia, who is studying at the university. On top of that, there are two other Peruvian students living there, Indira and Ana Cecilia. It appears that it’s quite normal for students to live with local families, and not stay in dorms. In fact, I’m not even sure there ARE dorms. On top of this, students that don’t want to eat on the street or in the school cafeteria (IF there is one) make arrangements to eat lunch at our house also. When I come home from class at 1 o’clock, there are 5 or 6 people eating, and it’s grand! Tula is an excellent cook and treats us well. We have two courses, always. First, a soup (It’s not a meal here without soup, which is lovely!), and then a big plate of local cuisine. It’s wonderful and takes the guesswork out of having to feed myself because eating out for every meal is exhausting.

Really, golden arches in the Andes?!

In the main square we noticed a McDonalds. I wondered how many Cusqueños ate there. After a few days of eating at local restaurants, which can be amazing and exhausting simultaneously, I realized it was probably mostly tourists. Mike agreed, “When you go in there, there’s no bargaining, you know what’s on the menu, you’ll get exactly what you expect and pay for, you don’t have to befriend your waiter and tell them about yourself, and you can leave when you want to. McDonalds is like the hooker of restaurants."

La Valle Sagrada- Sacred Valley

The Sacred Valley includes everything parallel to the Urumamba river, close to the capital Cusco and below the sacred, ancient city Machu Picchu. The valley was appreciated, or sacred, for its geographical and climactic qualities. The Incas took advantage of its natural resources and found it be be the best place to grow maize.

This next picture is of terraced land near ruins in Pisac, one of the villages along the Urubamba river, part of the Sacred Valley. The hillside is lined with agricultural terraces constructed by the Inca and still in use today. The terraces enabled the locals to produce surplus food more than would normally be possible at altitudes as high as 11,000 feet. The ruins included religious temples as well. Besides the agricultural and religious aspects, the town also served a military purpose. It is thought that Písac defended the southern entrance to the Sacred Valley.



The word for corn here is choclo, not elote. And it is corn with the biggest kernels I have ever seen! Women sell it on the street. I even bought it once through a train window when we stopped at a small town on our way to Machu Picchu. They give it to you steaming hot with "fresh" cheese (I skip the cheese even though it kills me, who knows when the last time that shit was refrigerated!). You use the husk like a plate/napkin. I'm not sure if this picture does the corn justice but it's worth a shot:

Cusco

One of the things that confused Mike, in addition to having to pay for the bathroom:

Interesting street art. Doesn't this look like an Andean woman crossed with the wicked witch of the West?! I love it!

This is the main plaza, Plaza de Armas:
This is a different view of the same plaza...(with Mike)
One day there was a parade, the streets surrounding the plaza were filled with people celebrating Jesus. Mike SWEARS they were shooting cannons. I think they were just using old cars that occasionaly SOUNDED like cannons. What I found incredibly interesting, if not disturbing, were the people that were clearly Andinos, proclaiming their Catholic faith. I wondered, don't they realize they are only Christian because they were conquered by the Spanish? Why don't they resurrect their old beliefs? Here is a perfect picture to show what I mean:

Madre something, that's for sure

Today is Saturday, and while all of you are probably at 4th of July shindigs, I am spending my first evening in Arequipa. Yesterday Mike and I left Cusco, he for Lima, and I for Arequipa. So, since I'll be here for a few weeks, I now have the time (and hopefully a strong enough Airport signal) to put up some pictures and tell a few stories...

The picture above is of the Plaza de San Blas in the artisanal neighborhood of the same name. It's also where our hostel, Madre Tierra was located.

This is our hostel. It was so cute, it was like a little garden inside, with plants everywhere, the breakfasts were simple but included different, delicious, fresh juice daily, and the neighborhood was quaint, yet lively...

I wanted to like it so much...but alas, the smell of burning pine and other lumber (not chopped firewood, but 2 x 4s and other cut wood) permeated the place and came into our room through its interior windows. Our room was on the second floor, directly above where the fireplace was, with no windows to the street, so the smelly air just stayed there and got stale.

The thin walls allowed us to hear every movement made by other guests, not to mention the shared bathroom wall which had a window(?) where the wall meets the ceiling, which let in light when our neighbors used their bathroom...even if, let's say, it were 4:30 in the morning. And this wouldn't be a problem, except that our bathroom door was just glass. So when someone needed to be up early (as people traveling and going on tours often do), we were privy to their morning routine. Ugh. And they didn't accept credit cards, to boot.


Andean woman dressed in typical clothes walking with an alpaca: Women and children wander around, asking you to take a photo and you have to pay for it. You want the photo. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe because the colorful, detailed clothing is beautiful? Because their bodies and faces are shaped differently than your own? Because they're walking with an alpaca? And you wonder: who's exploiting whom? Through what lens am I looking at these people? And why are the children SO adorable?!

Par-tay

I saw an advertisement for an all-night rock concert. It seemed like it was going to be a rowdy, fun event for local people, as it was near their university, far from the touristy area. We didn’t know any of the musical groups playing, obviously, but I thought it would be an interesting way to spend part of an evening, as it's name was ‘jardin de cerveza’ (beer garden).
After we spent the day touring Cusco, and eating dinner, we began to make our way to the spot. Of course, I had my map out, it was not easy to find. As we approached the location, I got excited! When we finally got to the right intersection, people were shouting out deals to come to their bars, and there were huge groups cusqueños (Cusco locals) drinking in the street, kind of like a botellón en Spain. Everyone was standing around, laughing, smoking, and chatting. They were passing around 2 liter bottles of soda and liquor before they entered and had to pay bar prices.
Mike looked around, and said, “Erica, Let’s not go in. Let’s go somewhere else.” I said, “Come on, it’s not dangerous.” He said, “No, it’s not that. Look at us. I have on a backback. You’re carrying Let’s Go, Peru with your finger holding open the map. It’s like going to a rave in your church clothes.” I looked at us, our clothes and all of the shit we were carrying. He was right, we looked more uncool, than out of place. We left, went to a bar, and decided the next time we went out, we would stop at our hostel first and drop off our gringo gear…

Cusco

A child that moved me emotionally at Cusco's indoor market:






















Cusco's indoor market: There are dangling alpaca carcasses right behind me. I'm sparing you.

Cusco's main square: The Plaza de Armas. The flags are representative of the 4 parts of the Incan empire, not to be confused with you know what...

And by mañana, I meant when I felt like it...

So, Mike and I have had some epic days here... some highlights:

(By the way, there may be some grammatical errors and confusing thoughts here. I can explain, I swear. First, almost every keyboard I use here has keys with the letters rubbed off, and the keyboards themselves are different, so misspellings might be abundant. And the number keys have two additional symbols and I can´t figure out how to get to the second one. Second, my brain hurts. Not from altitude, but from translating for Mike. I´m not complaining, but after a few day-long tours, I´m just... burnt out. He´s been a sweetheart about it though. At the beginning of tours I explain things very thoroughly, by the end, I summarize:

Erica: He said these ruins are 1000 years old.
Mike: That´s all he said? He spoke for a few minutes.
Erica: Yup, that was the most important part. :)

So, back to the highlights...

• Museo de Coca (Liz, I highly recommend you go here! It was fascintaing!)
  

We went to this museum about the history of the coca leaf. Basically, it´s been used for centuries as a supplement that takes away hunger, pain, and cold. It´s sacred to the people here now, as it has been for centuries. The guide showed us art (clay figurines) of ancient people with bulges on the side of their mouths, from holding the coca leaves there. He showed us mummies of sacrificed children, with their offerings, including corn and coca leafs. He showed us different tools used to ingest coca, as well as these ashy products made from burnt quinoa that were used along with coca to enhance its effects.
It wasn´t until the middle 1800s that western doctors explored the uses of the coca. The leaf is pretty complete, with vitamins, minerals, and amino acids (who knew!) and it was after that, when a German scientist (whose name I can´t remember) isolated the chemical cocaine out of the leaf, that it was used in Western medicine. He showed us evidence of Freud´s RIDICULOUS use of cocaine and how he would treat patients with it. It wasn´t until it was proven addictive that it became illegal, even though it´s medicinal uses were plenty.
Then we learned about the drug-trafficiking of cocaine, how it´s made (pretty nasty, and pollutive: during the process, which usually takes place far in the jungle, the makers toss all the byproducts, which include kerosene?!) and what the government does to rid these people of their crops. The US sprays the land and pretty much kills everything in it´s path, including wildlife and other plants, as well as making the water in the rivers unpotable. He showed us some children´s artwork that shows before /after pictures of the land. Next, he explained that there are movements to industrialize the use of the coca leaf, not cocaine itself, in "energy" drinks, foods, sodas, beers, etc. (There are stores that stell this stuff, like chocolate and caramels. I wanted to like them, but they´re pretty gross tasting, I have to admit.)
Finally, he showed us what happens when people abuse cocaine (not coca leaves) and had pictures of famous people who clearly had gone overboard with the drug; Diego Maradona, Amy Winehouse (is she really that well known in South America? I guess...) and Freddie Mercury. In fact, he had posted one of the last poems that Freddie Mercury wrote and it was an ode to cocaine, lamenting how his love for her cost him his friends, his family and his life. Que fuerte!

• La Valle Sagrada

We went on a tour of a few towns around the Urubamba valley known as the sacred valley. (Urubamba is the river that flows and connects Cusco, tother smaller towns and finally Machu Picchu. There are Incan and pre-Incan ruins in these towns. It´s sort of hard to explain without the pictures, but let´s say there are huge monolithic constructions with rocks that seem like they would be impossible to move, let alone stack on top of each other. And they did it all without mortar, it´s just rock on rock, and they fit perfectly. It´s like tetris except there are more than four shapes, and no joystick.
Needless to say, my favorite part was when we went to the last town of Chinchero and an Incan descendant showed us how they clean and prepare alpaca wool to spin and dye it into yarn!!!! They use all natural products (roots) to clean it and different seeds and leaves to dye the wool. To get the color red, they use insects. Insects!!!! I dare say that no one was as enraptured as I was during this part of the tour.

Right now, Mike and I are in a cafe in Aguascalientes, a jumping off point to get to Machu Picchu, which we will go to (very) early tomorrow. Tomorrow evening we return to Cusco by train, and spend our last night together before he leaves for Lima, and before I go somewhere else (still haven´t decided where). The next time I post, I´ll probably be on my own. Remind me to tell you about the day we hiked with the shaman and did cleansing ceremonies in the campo (countryside). That´s a story that deserves a post of its own...

Hasta luego!