Flying into Lima in the dark and leaving for the south so we could see the Nazca lines and the Ballestra Islands the following morning did not leave much opportunity to react to Lima. We were supposed to take off for a four hour drive by 7, but since a couple hadn't even arrived yet, we waited for them to get in. (Irene and Jack had a trip from hell that started almost 24 hours earlier - in Newark Airport). We were on our way by 8 in a not so well maintained Toyota Bus (the air conditioning did not work) down the Pan American (it was only 2 lanes) highway. The Pacific was on our right and the dessert on the left. The terrain was unforgiving. The air was hot and dry. It was sunny too.
The Nazca lines were fascinating. Unfortunately, the pilot of our 6 seater was a cowboy in disguise. With the air turbulence and his constant banking from left to the right in a plane, the lack of air, the dry heat, and the bodily changes we had endured in such short a time left him with a plane full of passengers who got motion sickness. Fortunately Percy, our wonderful guide warned us about not going up with a full stomach and resisted my pleading that we eat first. Oh I reminded him that we hadn't eaten since 6 in the morning in Lima. I even suggested that instead of waiting an 1 ½ for the planes to come back for us (it meant no lunch until after 3) that we should eat now (it was 1), go to the museum, digest and then come back and go on the plane. Even he thought that was reasonable but when he explored if we could fly out at 4:30, and was told it depended on the weather, the possibility that the planes might not go if the weather changed was too much of chance to take, so he stuck to his guns, suggested we be patient and have a drink while we waited. Good thing. I drank a Fanta, a lovely orange liquid. I know because it was that orange that filled my barf bag about 40 minutes into the flight. Needless to say, in the hour and 10 minute in the air, my appetite disappeared. So too my fascination with the environment. Looking out the window became painful. Even on terra firma, it took hours for my stomach to settle and to look at food again with interest.
The museum was small, but fascinating. There we learned that the pre-Incas practiced brain surgery, successfully. No one knows why. The dry heat preserved many corpses and there were several examples, most with cut skulls, some of which were completely or partially healed. They also had an unusual practice that divided the rich from the ordinary.... elongating skulls. On to Paracus to a nice resort with great views, good facilities but very modest rooms. The Ballestra Islands were an hour boat trip to see thousands of sea lions and several species of birds all docked on rocks in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Then back to Lima... a city of 8 million people without a single example of good architecture.
The great part of the trip took place in the mountains, but even that was not entirely smooth. Watch out for rainy season (January and February). It plays havoc with plane and train schedules and vistas from Macchu Picchu. The views were spectacular as the peaks of the Andes came up to meet the plane. Then the ride into the Sacred Valley was beautiful. Our hotels and food were okay. The sights were fantastic enough to want to acclimate to the altitude (12,000 feet means not much oxygen). It felt a strange walking ten steep steps and gasping for air for such a modest energy requirement but gasp I did. "Go slow," was what Percy constantly reminded us. We did. Everyone except Maralin ( she got a terrible chest cold) made it, even Louisa and Leonora, a mother and daughter who both were afraid of heights.
What can I say. The Incas knew how to build things and were not lazy. They chose to put what they built along sides of mountains and on the top. How their architectural expertise disappeared remains to be learned, but disappear it did. Today's people farm and fish and weave and after hundreds of years of Spanish influence and a decent education system, live the most simple life imaginable. There was no evidence of telephone, television or that the common man could have the conveniences of cars to get around. People got place by foot, cutting trails along the sides of mountains that I would take ages to walk down because they were so steep and hazzard filled or they took a run down, crowded bus that wove its way through the narrow towns and switch backs that traversed the sides of steep mountains.
When we got to Macchu Picchu, we stayed at a hotel at the base of the mountain and had a glorious view of a raging river right in front of our window. We spent the first afternoon, practically alone, on the top of the mountain learning about the lost city and guessing how they symbolized what was clearly a good body of knowledge. The place was quite large and impressive. I have few words to explain it or the vistas from just about everywhere. I only marvel that it was lost for hundreds of years and then found at all. Left to me, it would still be under the unbelievable vegetation that covered it for centuries. Bingham had to suffer many physical challenges to find it. Anyway, we went back up on the second day, in the rain, and walked to the sun gate, ignoring that we were in the clouds. When we got down, and expected to take the train out, we learned we were stuck. The rain had washed out the train tracks in 3 places. There begun our mini adventure.
The tractor they sent in by train (there are no roads to Macchu Picchu) broke down before it accomplished much. Then they tried blowing up the boulder that fell off the mountain on the track. All they succeeded in doing was to blow up more of the track. We were stuck. Oh did I mention it.... along with the track went the electricity. There was none... no lights, no phone, no hot water.... no water. The pumps didn't work. And there we were until the next day. Out came the candles. Out came the barrels of water that you pour into the toilet to flush. Out came the bottled water - gratis.
We were missing Cuzco. Anyway, the lights came on by about 7:30. Hooray. We had hot water and could shower. The next morning Percy told us to be ready to leave by 6. After breakfast, he marched us to the train station where we waited for hours, along with everyone else eager to leave the town. Every few minutes we got more information. It said the same thing. We didn't know when the first train would leave. Only that we would be on it.
Well, they didn't fix the train line. Finally, by 1:30, the train company gave in and allowed the crowd to walk down along the track, cross the area that was washed out and get on the train several kilometers out of town. The cooperation was remarkable. Everyone managed and finally we were on, but not on our way. The waiting seemed interminable. Of course my digestive track chose that day to go a bit haywire, so I did not eat breakfast. By the time we were on the train, I was famished. Too bad. There was nothing. Well, at least we would be somewhere in an hour and a half.
Well, it didn't turn out that way. It took 4 ½ hours to get to busses that would take us the rest of the way to Cuzco. But we were out. We had created our own Inca trail, spent an evening under candle light, survived hours with no seat and no food, and a crowded train that allowed the back packers (who hadn't washed in days) to stand in the isles. We made it with good humor, happy that no one else among us was sick (Maralin, Eunice, Tony and Irene had fever, congestion and dietary problems and I had a question about my vulnerability when it came to digesting without running straight to the toilet.
I loved Cuzco. It was charming. The ride to get there was beautiful. The shopping, the hotel, the breakfast, the architecture, the side trips were all wonderful, but we lost a day. Percy tried to make it up. We saw weaving. We ate guinea pig. We entered a house and typical kitchen. We had a Shaman explain himself and say prayers over our body. We shopped. Then it was over and we were back to Lima... first thing the next morning. Shit. I did not love Lima. But it was okay. I spent the remainder of the day enjoying the company of my group... all of whom were leaving for flights out at either 12:30AM, 1:30AM or 2:10 AM that night.
On to the steamy Amazon.
To my dismay, I was the only one at breakfast the next morning and horrors ...took off for the airport by myself ... in a private car with a private driver and private guide. At the airport, I sat a few hours trying to guess if this would be this way it was for the next five days or if I would be joining some other group. I figured and prayed for the latter. Well, I was not completely right.
Segunda held up my name on a placard so I couldn't miss him, but I saw no group. Fortunately, two young girls I had spotted at the airport were with him. But seriously folks, I never once thought they would be my group. Anyway, they were. They were young... doctors... finishing up three years of residency by adding a month of work in Lima at the world re known tropical disease unit in Lima Hospital. Their month being over, they were traveling on a limited budget of money and time and were off for a few days vacation. During their three days with me, they weren't very verbal. They either answered my questions or talked about disease or their immediate future. That meant talking about how to survive the Amazon or the Inca trail -- where they were going after they left me -- by quantifying their expenses, the schedule and connections to the airport, the time they needed and their packing needs....over and over and over. ... Anyway, neither of us knew much about the Amazon before we got there and unfortunately, after my four days in the Amazon and their three, and I am sure I can speak for them, still don't.
Our guide, Segunda was no Percy.
See... Percy I missed you too!!!!
Anyway, what made the incompatibly of my traveling companions particularly disappointing was that three of my four nights in the Amazon were with no electricity. (The candle light of Macchu Picchu looked good compared to the kerosene lamps in the Amazon). My point being, that after dark I could not even read. The kerosene lamp did not do it and my wonderful flashlight that worked in Macchu Picchu was dead when I needed it in the Amazon. So, it was too dark. Anyway... don't even ask if I enjoyed my trips to the outhouse where there were four latrines - two for woman and two for men - or to the shower house (with cold water). I am sure you can guess.
After being grossed out the first day by the conditions, I actually started getting used to it. I checked for a fever. I had none. I guess a person can get used to anything. I actually started looking forward to the cold showers. (Man... it was so hot and clammy... how could I not?) The mosquitos were happy. They were having a feast of Kleinman meat. I think they thought the insecticide was a pre-dinner cocktail.
I have to say ... no matter how primitive the first two lodges I stayed at were, they were both clean and the food was okay. But... with a guide who offered little in the way of explanation, the steamy hot environment, that fact that there was no escaping the insects undeterred by insecticides and being with self involved traveling companions who had no sense of humor, my last five days in Peru could have been missed. So, in short, for me, the Amazon was not nearly as thrilling as it could have been. The fact is, it felt more like an endurance contest. I was eager for the days to be over. The girls returned to Lima a day before me. I thought it would be bad, but at least I was headed for the upscale lodge (Ceiba Tops). I opted to miss the nature walk (the guide never did much but look for a few birds and animals and walk ... quietly...) and take a swim. The pool and grounds were lovely, but the pool, thought large, was like a heated hot tub. After a few minutes in hot water, I could not really swim, so got out and read. There was no one around. Then, things picked up and I wound up having a better evening than I expected by join a Texas gent (his wife was not felling well and missed dinner) and two Argentineans. We had quite an interesting conversation.
About the Amazon... seriously... if you thought what we saw in the hills was primitive, you should have seen the Amazon. I didn't realize that there was no way to get in there other than by plane or boat, but it is true. The Amazon... a part of Peru for ???? years... has no roads that connect it to the rest of the country. Quite, the big city I flew into, was the worst dump I have ever seen and you guys know... I have been to a few places. But, at least Iguitos had electricity. In a half hour's boat ride from Iquitos there is no electricity...no lights, no radio, no TV, no running water, no walkie talkies, telephones, cars, motorbikes... few boats with engines... no newspapers, general stores, nothing that looks like life and commerce as we know it. I am still trying to figure out how most of those people wind up getting enough money to buy their kids shoes.
The river was filled with debris from the mountains... logs, sloughed off shore lines, mud, earth, tree limbs, everything imaginable. How the boats got through without ruining their rudders was amazing. Slightly off the edge of the shore were houses. All of them were made up of a wood floor on stilts and a thatched roof. Usually there was one wall, maybe even a half another. Most had no storage, no furniture and no privacy...but I guess in the Amazon, catching a fresh breeze is more important than having a bit of privacy. Anyway, what kind of privacy could one have with paper thin walls anyhow? The entrances were muddy. There were a few logs on the ground to walk on when the rain (it rains 224 days a year there) makes it too muddy. For transportation, they depend on a boat that is much like a canoe. Mostly, they have a paddle or two. Few have engines. The laundry was done in the Amazon. Food was boiled in large pots over a fire ... none of it looked appealing ... and the front and back yard were littered with chickens, cows, ducks and dogs, that wandered.... wherever.
After it is all said, what kills me most is that the people are hard working, get educated and have such a hard life anyway. Of course, my last night in Ceiba Tops, that thought lead to a little political discussion with the Texan (Bush fan) about the role of government. We disagreed but did it with a smile. Still... shouldn't the government provide the proper infrastructure???
I got back to Lima (after the Amazon, let me tell you, Lima looked like the metropolis) and was surprised to be told to put my valuables under the seat of my private car. "Why," I asked. Well, I was told, "the ride is dangerous. People can break the window and steal your things." "Oh" I said and did what I was told. Of course, I forgot about it until they picked me up yesterday evening and cautioned me to hide my valuables under the seat again. Well, I thought as I tried accommodating them, cars don't have an under the seat, so I asked "why" again and was told the same story. Then we got to the airport and the militia stopped us. That's when I got an explanation that the driver's papers didn't match the car's because the car that went with his registered papers had a broken window. It happened just four days ago that someone broke into his car while he was driving clients to the airport. "Neela was the guide with him," I heard.
"Oh." I said.
Than, about an hour later, I saw Neela saying goodbye to her new tour group. I said "hello" and mentioned that I heard about her "adventure" with the robbers.
"Yes," she said, "the people were from your group, -- Gold something."
"Not my group," I said, not remembering that Neela took a few people to the airport early.
"Yes, your group. A woman... she didn't feel so well. She missed the last afternoon. She stayed in the hotel"
"You mean Louise?"
"Yes... and her husband."
"Oh, you must mean Leonora? Louise was not traveling with her husband."
"No, this was a woman and her husband. She had been sick. Her last name was with a G."
"No... No.. You don't mean Irene and Jack, do you?"
"Yes. That's it"
"Oh shit! That happened to them. That too? They really had a trip from hell. I can't believe it. That too."
Now Jack and Irene, it is your turn to share your story. I know more, but think you should tell about you trip from hell.
Take care all.
Isobel
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