Today we'll wrap up everything I remember that's worth telling about days 3-5 of my trip, which were all spent in famous Cuzco.
I mentioned yesterday that I took a 21-hour bus ride from Lima to Cuzco, but I didn't elaborate on it. The bus was actually quite good. There were 2 meals (and I think other snacks were for sale), and there were movies constantly playing in the non-nighttime parts of the trip that were accessed headphonely in case you didn't want them to bother you. (The movie list, from what I can remember: Seven Pounds, Taken, Lassie, Nanny McPhee, Underdog. A bizarre mix.) Furthermore, the seats were very comfortable: roomy, with a high degree of leanbackness, and a leg thing that came down from the seat in front of you so that your legs were inclined at about the same angle as your torso. Like the Z-pattern, where ∠head-balls-knee = ∠balls-knee-foot. My grade 7s know what I'm talking about. I still couldn't sleep, of course, but they definitely did almost everything they could to ensure that sleeping was possible.
Well, except for the geography. Of course there's nothing they can do about that, but the fact that the bus meandered lazily down the coast from the time of departure (2PM) until 8 or 9 in the evening before turning inland and winding stomachchurningly twistyturnily, right when it was time to start getting to sleep, didn't help.
The Sechura Desert, seen before the turn into the mountains, and which I would encounter again at the end of the trip.
On day 4 I decided I needed a haircut. It was the first time I've ever decided such a thing while on vacation, but it turned out to be the first haircut I've been completely satisfied with (except when I get my mom to cut my hair) in years. The place was difficult to find; it was in a courtyard in the middle of a block (which were actually quite common in Cuzco), but it was worth it.
Here's a quick description of a meal I thoroughly enjoyed. I found a German cafe in the course of my wandering (which just meant it was owned by a German guy), and the menu looked pretty good, so I checked it out for lunch on day 4. The dish I got consisted of 6 or 7 different kinds of potatoes (Peru is known for its potatoes), as you can see below: the ones in the middle top and bottom are particularly weird. The sauces in the middle are guacamole and a sweet creamy herb sauce. Delicious.
On day 5 I went white-water rafting with the tour company that was soon to lead me on the Inca Trail. It was just one little raft, with 4 of "us" and one guide. The other adventurers were a British couple who were on an extremely extended honeymoon because they were forced to have like 9 months off because of how law school works in Britain, and a Brazilian guy. The Brazilian guy was supposed to send me pictures, but I lost his e-mail address. Oh well.
Anyway, it was great! I'd never been rafting before, so the whole class system didn't mean anything to me, and still doesn't really, because somehow I doubt the classification of rapids is consistent everywhere you go, but apparently it was mostly craftsmen and got up to merchant once or twice. Um, I mean it was mostly class 3 and got up to class 4 once or twice. Whether that means anything to you or not, I can attest to the fact that it was pretty intense. Nobody fell in, but it was not a gentle ride. And man, the others were in over their heads - luckily, not literally - but none of them had any idea how to use a paddle (when I say "others", fortunately that doesn't include the guide). The British guy (Ollie... of course) did have one redeeming quality, and that was his idea of how to approach the most intense rapids. In order to channel as much energy as possible into the furious flurry of strokes that were required each time we crested a big rapid, Ollie combined his strokes with a torrent of curses. Soon we all caught on, and I think it was pretty effective.
At some point, I asked the guide if he ever went swimming in the rapids, to which he replied: "sure, you can swim in the rapids!" Not really feeling like correcting him, I just said screw it and went for it. It was fun, but it was also really friggin' cold, because the day on the whole was cool and wet, and I spent the second half of the voyage regaining feeling in my hands and making excellent use of Ollie's strategy (and discovering that it works for channeling both energy and heat. This guy should be a physicist, not a lawyer).
The last thing I can remember that's story-worthy is the souvenir I bought myself.
This is a Charango, a common instrument in Peruvian folklore music. It has 10 strings (5 doubled), and the traditional way to play it is the well-known technique INFASTNITY. I haven't mastered this technique yet, though I've improved a bit from when I first bought it, and at the moment would probably put myself at the level of FASTNITY.
Charango Charlie with big brother Wally the Waldorf. Regular guitars are part of the typical Folklorica ensemble as well, as a matter of fact, so along with singing I could probably rig up a 0.6 man band. Wait, I don't think that math works. Here's a better way of expressing what I'm trying to say: a 1 man 0.6 band. Got it? Got it.
It actually took me quite a while to buy this thing, because I was an extremely conscientious and comparative shopper, something I usually am not. And because it was Christmas Eve when I bought it, the main square of Cuzco was wall-to-wall, so hopping between the two finalists, which were really not that far apart, took like 15 minutes each way. All this shopping resulted in me being 30 minutes late for my mandatory pre-Inca Trail meeting. I'm not sure if anyone else had been late, but either way I was the latest, and I felt like an idiot showing up so late, especially carrying a pretentious tiny guitar, kind of like when people carry annoying tiny dogs in their annoying tiny clothes. Personally, I hate when people are late for that sort of thing, and in that situation I'm the first to jump to conclusions. I thought that the other 16 travelers in my group would instantly judge me and I would be ostracized from the group for the next 4 days.
So, what happened in the end? Did I overcome my bad initial impression and win their hearts, or was it the most miserable 4-day-hike-ending-at-one-of-the-seven-modern-wonders-of-the-world in my entire life? Keep tuning in to Xave's Xlog to find out!
We'll leave you with some pictures of Cuzco to cap off tonight's entry. Click to embiggen.
The "Chocolatada" on Christmas Eve. Kids lined up and got chocolate.
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