4-10/2/2012 - Last days in Cuzco

A painting in the pre-colonial art museum

The next couple of days in Cuzco were spent recovering from the Inca Trail and the associated celebrations of its completion. On saturday I met up with Dan, Jill (one of the Aussie couples from the Inca Trail) as well as Alex and Claire (2 guys from the UK) and we had a typically Peruvian night in an Indian all-you-can-eat buffet. The fairly low quality of food (the currys didn't actually have names but were just called “hot” or “mild”) made me really miss Manchester for the first time; a home-coming curry is definitely a must. It was also National Pisco Sour Day but rather incredibly we managed not to over-indulge.

Guniea pig - its as disgusting as it looks...

The next day I was joined by an angry American guy in my hostel room. Aside from his anger (mostly directed towards the financial system, the Californian government and the police in Oakland, near San Francisco, where he was from) he was also noteworthy for his mode of transport through South America – on bicycle! He told me that he actually felt safer cycling here than in the US and had had no problems so far on his route from Argentina (aside from a bout of food poisoning in Bolivia but that was hardly cycle related). He also spoke at length about how California was essentially going down the ..ahem...toilet. The cuts to welfare and state education he talked about sounded crazy and something I simply didn't associate with America. He'd worked as a teacher in a disadvantaged area and said that he was having to buy a lot of supplies out of his own pocket; he clearly cared about the community he lived in. On the other hand he seemed to care only about his community and was fairly dismissive of the rest of California (and in some ways the rest of the world). Quite a character. I wish I had something to get angry about.

For lunch I sampled guinea pig which had a pretty horrid flavour (a tinge of liver?), but luckily came with enough sides to salvage the meal. In the afternoon our little Inca trek crew met up and watched the Superbowl in Loki and had a night out on the town since we would soon be parting ways. The Loki hostel, and other “party hostels” I've heard about, are pretty strange bubbles of almost perpetually drunk gringos, a lot of who seem to be trying to relive first year of university again. As far as I can tell quite a few people get sucked into just partying every night, waking up hung-over, starting all over again and seeing very little of the city they're in. Different strokes for different folks I guess.

On Monday I had a stroll around the Santa Catalina Convent where I bought some marzipan-based sweets from the nuns (the nuns were obscured from sight with the help of a revolving door where you placed your money and received sweets in return) and in the evening said goodbye to Dan and Jill who were heading to Lake Titikaka. We made plans to try and meet up again in Arequipa, another city in Peru, but I felt doubtful we'd ever see each other again and was sorry to see those two cheerful Aussies go.

Like clockwork my craving for culture kicked in again and the next day I rode a bus a couple of miles out of Cuzco and did a hike back into the city via a bunch of Inca sites. It was really good fun and there's something satisfying about arriving at Inca sites by foot, especially when everyone else is jumping on and off coaches and being hurried through by their tour guides. In the evening I went to a performance of some traditional Peruvian dances (it was included in the price of the ticket I had to buy to visit the Inca sites) which was fairly hit and miss. The themes of the dances ranged from “Hunting of the Stag” to “Fight between tribes and enslavement of the women by the victors” but at the end of every dance, regardless of situation, everyone seemed to be ok and have a jolly good jig with each other – how nice.

After my hard day's hike I treated myself to another Peruvian standard – pepper stuffed with meat and vegetables. It was delicious, although why they had to batter it is beyond me (took me back to my time in Edinburgh).

The gimp mask wasn't really explained but I liked it anyway

I spent a few more days in Cuzco taking in more museums and trying, unsuccessfully, to catch up on the blog. On my last day in Cuzco I was wandering across the main square and bumped into Juan, our guide from the Inca Trail. He told me that the other Australian couple in our group had complained about the level of services we had received (they'd actually asked for their money back!) and as a result Juan and the chef had now been fired! He'd had to cancel his holiday and was currently on the way to the bank to ask for a loan. I was absolutely flabbergasted and promised him that I'd email his boss and give a fair account of our trek. I don't know if those guys realised it but their complaints about slightly uncomfortable tents and, apparently, a lack of food (I don't know if they were eating the same meals as me) were going to potentially ruin lives. I hope my email does something.

After Cuzco I decided to head to Arequipa to meet up with Alex and Dan (from the Inca trail) who'd booked us on a trek up Misti volcano. It isn't billed as an easy hike, at a pretty formidable 5821m above sea level, but brutish confidence coupled with a slight level of ignorance meant I didn't think twice about agreeing to the trip. At the hostel I packed my bags and hit the bus terminal, but not before a lovely Chilean couple staying there made me dinner, gave me rum and even offered me pot. My night bus from Cuzco was due to arrive into Arequipa around 7am and our trek was supposed to head off at 8am so it was going to be tight. I boarded the bus and hoped for the best.

Statue of Pachacutec