The Peruvian whirlwind, part VII

25 May 2013

The scenery on the flight to Cusco was stunning. After a terrible night’s sleep worrying about Chris’ ear bursting, I’d intended to snooze on the flight. But I couldn’t stop looking out of the window. We flew over white mountain ranges, spectacular glaciers and vast lakes, with puffs of fluffy white cloud dotted outside the plane’s window.

Chris was on good form – no doubt high on the drugs he’d been given and the fact he could hear again. No one should be that chipper at 5am. He didn’t even complain when the security guards at the airport confiscated his hair spray as they rummaged through his bag (Arequipa airport is very modern – all bag checks are done by hand). We agreed it was time to say goodbye to the hair spray, having already had several other run ins with airport security over it. And Chris didn’t even flinch during the turbulence on the flight. (We should have asked for extra drugs!)

In Cusco, we soon familiarised ourselves with what was to become our ‘local’ – Jack’s café. Local, not in the sense it was terribly close to our hotel, but local as in we went daily, it was that good. And the food is worth the queue you’ll probably have to wait in to get inside. We stuffed ourselves silly with eggs and veggies, fresh juices, tea and coffee.

Our guide, Dennis, took Chris, me and an older man from our tour up to a lookout, while the rest of the tour went shopping. We passed by the touristy alpaca and gemstone workshops, following the cobbled stone paths and roads up to some Incan ruins and Christian churches, then further up to the top of the hill. Underneath the Jesus statue there, kids dressed in traditional clothes led their similarly attired llama around, while a man (also dressed in traditional garb) played pan pipes and a 16-string guitar, and sang what was likely a bawdy (certainly quirky) Peruvian tune. The gorgeous view took in all of Cusco – quite a large and spread out city that reaches up into the hills around it – and the surrounding mountains and glaciers.

With legs like jelly, and heavy and icy lungs after the brief but steep walk, Chris and I realised we were either really, really out of shape, or there was something to this altitude sickness. We took it fairly easy on the way back down into town and for the rest of the day, to give ourselves some time to acclimatise.

That evening, after a terrible massage (I didn’t know massages could be so bad!), we met our guide for the Lares Trek, Edith. She was very intense and serious, and slightly intimidating. Chris and I were left wondering what we’d got ourselves into. After our brief stroll this afternoon, the thought of trekking up to 4900m over three days was now somewhat concerning. She gave us the tiny duffle bag, in which we could pack our basic necessities for the next few days. The donkey would carry this. Anything outside of that, we would have to carry.

We went to bed that night, exhausted and dreaming of our return to beautiful Cusco, sleep ins, relaxing in the one spot for a few days and more of Jack’s food.