We arrived with several hours to kill in Tacna, Peru, so we visited some mansions in the downtown area that had been donated and were free to the public. It was a trend among the rich to construct houses with an inner courtyard, such as the one displayed below.
While shopping around the town for fruit and souvenirs, we passed by many pastelerías and finally gave in to our cravings. We stopped by one just to “peek inside” and fifteen minutes later found ourselves devouring a torta de mil hojas, a popular puff pastry that can include manjar or dulce de leche, among various other fillings.
Later that night as we searched among back alleys for the bus terminal where we would catch our ride to Arequipa, we ran into a couple of Peruvian police officers and received something like an escort to our destination - they accompanied us to the terminal, stopped traffic, and even carried our bags. They also scolded us for not taking adequate precautions against the dark and unfamiliar streets of a foreign city, but then asked that we mention what a wonderful place Tacna truly is to all of our gringo friends back home.
We reached Arequipa the next morning around 4:00 am and took a taxi to the hostel we had booked while in Tacna. Arequipa turned out to be a pretty trendy and touristy town—we shopped around, met some locals, and explored the vivid 16th century Monasterio de Santa Catalina de Siena, pictures of which can be seen below.
After our trip to the monastery we hit up the market for lunch (and eventually dinner that night as well). This was among the biggest markets we had seen thus far in our travels, and it boasted local delicacies such as the lobster bread below:
The next day we ate lunch with a couple of local girls with whom we had negotiated jewelry deals the previous day. They encouraged us to try cuy (guinea pig), a delicacy in Peru, and recoto relleno, or Peruvian peppers filled with meat, cheese, and potatoes. Though we had neither during our stay (the first was too expensive and the second wasn’t among the cheap items sold in the market), we did enjoy a good bit of ceviche (various bits of raw seafood marinated in citric acid) without falling ill.
We then headed to the Museo Santuarios Andinos (Museum of Andean Sanctuaries) to see the Ice Maiden Juanita, the mummy child who was sacrificed to the Incan deities on Mount Ampato. Juanita was discovered after the collapse of the Incan burial site and was exposed to the intense climate of the Andes for a few weeks before being transported to a university in Arequipa. The ancient Incan mummy received her fame due to the extremely well-preserved condition of her organs and body, which provided much information pertaining to her diet and cause of death.
That night we took another overnight bus into Cuzco, which turned out to be the site of quite an eventful day for me. We began by eating a small breakfast in a café that overlooked the plaza de armas and watched as the sun rose over the mountainous terrain that engulfs the colonial city--and that was when my stomach began to churn. I believe my illness that day was caused by a curious fruit I had eaten earlier in the morning, the granadilla, which is split into two and then consumed by sucking out the fish-egg-like innards in the least feminine, slurpiest possible form.
At any rate, I was a connoisseur of Cuzco bathrooms by the end of the day (I believe my complete track record was 12 visits to 7 bathrooms across the city). Shortly before my final run I realized my camera was missing from my jacket pocket. Perhaps I had abandoned it in one of the many bathrooms I had visited, or maybe it was just stolen. I was bummed by the turn in events - the following day we were scheduled to tour Machu Picchu. We still had a few hours to kill before catching our ride to Ollantaytambo, however, and so we set out to buy a replacement. Catherine sympathized with my situation and drove a hard bargain with the store manager, eventually obtaining a 20% discount from the original price of the Sony camera I ended up purchasing.
The next day we awoke around 4:30 am in Ollantaytambo to take a bus to Aguas Calientes and then a train to Machu Picchu. Our trip was completed despite many setbacks that day. Personal ailments included weak bowels (a tribute to the day before), a cough I obtained from dehydration in the Atacama Desert, and a strained ankle I received from who-knows-how-many miles of walking throughout the various cities we had visited up to that point. In addition, the train to Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu's point of entry) broke down twice and cost us an hour and a half of our tour, and one of the volunteers succumbed to altitude sickness once again. Yet we all managed to hike to the top of Montaña Machu Picchu together. The journey required 3.5 hours due to the thinness of the air—we were forced to stop every 20 meters or so to catch our breath, though all of us were in good physical condition. The following is the view from the summit.
Afterwards we toured Machu Picchu itself and encountered the vicuñas that inhabit the ruins. We enjoyed an early dinner before catching the train back to Ollantaytambo. This train was also delayed—twice—due to another train ahead that was having trouble.
We left Ollantaytambo the next day for Urubamba and then Písac, a tiny pueblo known as much for its variety of handicrafts as for its abundance of Incan ruins. The view of the mountains on the way out made for a spectacular taxi ride. From Písac we headed back to Cuzco for one last visit, and the descent from the top of the mountains into the sprawling city below was equally breathtaking. I held on to my camera very tightly this time.
The next day took us to Puno, where we embarked on a tour of Lake Titicaca, though not before being unceremoniously locked in the tour guide's office for the half-hour before the tour was scheduled to begin and then being rushed by said guide to a 20-minute breakfast in a little café. It was a strange start to a surreal day. Our boat left shore early that morning to take us to las islas flotantes de los Uros, a group of man-made islands that float off the coast of the city. The islands are inhabited by 2,000 or so Uros who use the tourist industry to maintain their culture and lifestyle. Their vitality depends on the lake itself, the inflow of money from curious tourists, and the totora, the plant from which the islands are constructed. The Uros not only rely upon the plant for a source of building materials, but also as their primary form of sustenance.
Afterwards, we reboarded the boat and headed to Taquile, an island of about 2,000 native Quechuan speakers who run their own society and benefit economically from tourism, fishing, and farming. Before arriving, our guide warned us that machismo maintains a strong influence among the Taquileños with the result that women are not allowed to walk beside their husbands. Interestingly enough, the men are exclusively responsible for the weaving and knitting of their world-renowned handicrafts, while the women make the yarn (some even out of their own hair). We had the opportunity to explore for a bit and eat lunch before departing for our journey back to the mainland.
Upon arrival in Puno, we enjoyed a brief dinner and then hurried to the bus terminal for our overnight ride to Tacna. We chose not to dawdle in the border town this time, but proceeded to the bus terminal that would take us back to Chile...
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