© Allan and Amanda 2008
The trip down river was reasonably easy going although low water levels made it a bit tricky in places. It was, however, very cold and windy – four layers of clothing was the order of the day! I lent one of my spare fleeces to our boatman as he had only brought short-sleeved shirts with him… the unexpected turn of weather had even caught him out.
En-route we saw a large variety of birds and the added bonus was seeing lots of turtles and caiman, probably about 20 or so of each, trying to extract what warmth they could from the watery sun. The highlight of the trip was seeing several capybaras and then, right near the end, the incredibly rare sight of a tapir…brilliant!
Then on to Tipishca Lodge where upon arrival I realised that I didn’t recall much about our stay there earlier in the week at all. Maybe a combination of the late arrival, early departure together with lack of sleep had dulled the memory. Either way my lack of recollection was frightening and it really did seem ages between our visits there. Anyway, we were given the same hut as before (apparently) and we rested for a while, waiting for dinner. Tomorrow was to be our last day in the rainforest and neither of us wanted to leave. The forest has a magic and charm all of its own and draws you back…
Dinner at Tipishca consisted of soup followed by catfish which had been wrapped in leaves and steamed inside a bamboo tube – very traditional and very tasty… The alarm was set for 4:30am the next day and so, yes, an early night.
We took an early breakfast whilst being serenaded by macaws, parrots and howler monkeys… It doesn’t get much better than that… The morning was again cool and misty and the journey down river was quite cold and damp. In places the visibility dropped to less than 50 yards creating a mystical atmosphere. We saw several more caiman and turtles along with macaws and mealy parrots with their shrill, raucous sounds ringing out through the forest.
As we motored down the river, getting ever nearer ‘civilisation’, our hearts were heavy. We didn’t want to leave the rainforest. As I said, it develops a hold on you, drawing you back. In many ways it is like an ocean; overwhelming, majestic and grand, but at the same time it is threatening, menacing and unforgiving for those that do not respect its raw beauty…
We eventually arrived back at Puerto Maldonado about 10am, met up with Pepe, the lodge owner, and, together with Juan, made our way to the nearby airport. Juan stayed with us until we had checked in and then bade him farewell. He had been invaluable and had helped us enjoy and understand the rainforest to a level that we simply could not have reached without him.
We took the short flight to Cusco, where we were met by our tour rep and transferred to our hotel in the centre of town.
We stayed at the Novotel, and, in spite of its dubious image in the UK, the Cusco version was a beautiful building full of character and centred round a covered courtyard. We were given coca tea on arrival, which was said to aid the effects of altitude that we were beginning to feel. The combination of the altitude, a 5-hour boat ride, an early morning departure and little sleep had begun to take its toll on us both. The tiredness and breathlessness was kicking in and took some getting used to. We had both taken our altitude sickness pills (Diamox) but the woozy, light-headedness remained throughout the evening.
After a short rest we had a quick bite to eat in the hotel restaurant before ‘hitting’ the town.
We set out for the main square, the Plaza de Armas, and, after initial disorientation i.e. getting lost, we asked the local police and found what we were looking for just a few hundred yards away from our hotel! The town was busy, colourful and vibrant. A mix of tourists, locals and street traders trying to make a Sol or two…many of those selling souvenirs were very young children; some no older than seven or eight years old.
The traffic was chaotic; streams of little Suzuki’s and Daihatsu’s buzzed around the cobbled streets ignoring the traffic police’s futile directions. There were an extraordinary number of dogs freely roaming the streets. They appeared to be relatively well looked after, obviously belonged to someone, but they were just allowed to wander around like groups of restless teenagers, not knowing where to go or what to do next.
We returned to the hotel and met up with Jessica our guide for the forthcoming trip to Machu Picchu… can’t wait! Back to the room and turned on the TV to find live tennis from a rain delayed US Open final with Roger Federer playing our own Andy Murray. Sadly it was a straight sets victory for Federer, so the day didn’t finish on the high that Amanda would have liked. An early night beckoned; the altitude and a very long day had taken its effect. The alarm was set for early next morning for a full day tour of the Sacred Valley.
In the morning our tour rep met us, as arranged, in the hotel foyer around 8am and we made our way over to the main square to catch our coach. The plaza was filling up fast; lots of cars and buses and people going about their business. Most of the shops were yet to open but otherwise the normal chaotic day was well under way.
Our bus arrived and we were pleased to note that it was only about ½ full… so plenty of room. There were other tourists from other hotels boarding the coach, generally a mix of British, American and with a couple of Irish thrown in for good measure. We had an English-speaking guide on the coach who gave a running commentary on the places we passed through and also gave us a good history lesson on the area.
We drove high up above Cusco along twisting, bumpy roads. The views of the city below were amazing. Along the way we stopped at various scenic viewpoints for great photo opportunities and always we had the obligatory souvenir sellers touting for business. There were locals offering the chance to pose with lambs and llamas for a small fee. We felt obliged to do the ‘touristy’ thing and Amanda duly lined up along side an old lady in traditional dress and had a little lamb put in her arms for the photograph…aahh! Bless!
A couple of other ‘photo stops’ followed before we arrived at a small market set up by the roadside. Here there were about 50 or so stalls selling typical Andean crafts… souvenirs, hats, gloves, sweaters, rugs, and blankets etc.etc. We bought several things including a bottle holder, an Alpaca rug, and Amanda was tempted by a beautiful red Alpaca sweater for the princely sum of £7! The fact that she later decided that she didn’t like it after trying it on, was neither here nor there… everyone loves a bargain. Everything seems so incredibly cheap and, even after the customary haggling, we were still probably paying more than we needed to but the local population could certainly do with the extra money.
Later in the morning we stopped at another market in the town of Pisac, an old Inca settlement. The market there was more established and quite a sprawling affair. Every stall holder begs for your attention, all offering that ‘special’ price… Here we parted with more cash, this time on a set of Pan Pipes for Oliver - should cause quite a stir in his rock band!
We journeyed on to our lunch venue. At this point the coach passengers were split up and dropped off at different restaurants depending on their own tour groups preference. Ours was a very up-market affair as befitting the tone and style of our trip so far. The Alhambra restaurant was a beautiful place, served a very good lunch and played some very good local Andean live music (yes, we bought the CD!) but the staff were oh so miserable and surly. It wasn’t really how the average Peruvian would eat and we felt removed and protected from reality… shame.
We travelled on after lunch, ever upwards until we reached the ancient Inca town of Ollantaytambo. Here the Inca ruins are well preserved with the original terraces still very much intact. With the altitude the steep climb up the steps left us feeling breathless … The view below revealed the original Inca town plan and it actually looked better than it does now.
The last stop of the day was at a town called Chinchero, which was also our highest point of the tour, at some 3762 metres above sea level; nearly 400 metres higher than Cusco. We had ostensibly stopped there to look at an ancient church but, to our delight, when we arrived the square in front of the church was alive with a festival in full swing. Apparently every highland town and village has its own patron saint and they have annual celebrations in the name of that saint. We were lucky enough to arrive on the right day. It was a fascinating insight to Andean mountain life and refreshing to know that it wasn’t just put on for the tourists. In fact we felt like true outsiders, intruding in to a private party but the locals didn’t seem to mind, they just carried on partying.
Amanda was feeling the effects of the altitude so, after taking numerous pictures, we returned to the coach for the return to Cusco.
Cusco in the early evening proved to be in its normal manic state and the drive through the outskirts of town revealed extraordinary levels of poverty. Houses, not much more than unfinished mud brick huts, were densely packed and clinging precariously to the steep mountain slopes. Children played in open drains, dogs roamed in packs, street sellers stood on corners and the whole scene was quite depressing. But that is how it really is. It would be easy to ignore it, or not even see it, with our tour itinerary if we didn’t actually look for it.
We ate in the hotel that evening, packed our bags for an early morning checkout and looked forward to the part of the trip that for me was always going to be the highlight… MACHU PICCHU!
