Hola! I am still not cool!
Well, Jess and I are out of Lima. It took 24 hours on a bus if not sent from, than at least designed in Hell. I would not say the staggering price tag is enough to avoid Cruz Del Sur in your immediate travelling plans, I would say that if you have never watched ¨Tootsie¨at 1 am, with a auditory presence approaching 300 decibels, then you should consider paying less for that experience, especially the world-ending feeling of hatred when the lovely attendant slides a bingo card into your hand, in case 3 am was the perfect time to bored, and listen to about a hundred numbers over a microphone. It´s gotta be a cultural thing.
Anyways, the whole point is that we got out! If you´re in Peru than Machu Pichu is somewhat of a must, and although not realatively close, we bent the road just enought to slide into the andes and onto the doorstep of Cusco. And that has been the most wonderful decision that I have made in a very long time.
Cusco is absolutely breathtaking. Aside from the verdant, pulsing andes which curl against the toes of the city, the ever-present reminder is that this city was laid, stone by immaculate stone, by the hands of the Incans thousands of years ago. The streets are narrow, cobbled, drained, winding. They stretch up against the hill sides and cut through cathedrals, walls, and homes. The lights of the city at night, against the blackened hillsides, are yellow and blue, the alternating drippings of the ever close stars.
Machu Pichu wasn´t known to the greater world populace until 1911, and since then tourism has become, as one would expect, the live blood of the economy in Cusco. But something has occured here unlike many other areas akin to this situation, and that is a somewhat wonderful relationship between annoying gringos and the people who call this place home. There are certainly moments when you and your naive skin color are nothing more useful than a week´s meals for a family, but at night the faces of everyone have broken out into wide grins and welcoming conversation. I simply cannot understand where such a patience and welcoming sprirt blossoms from. I doubt many of us, were our home to become beswarmed with thousands of foreigners, many more ignorant than our children, would remain so hospitable and humane to all comers. Cusco is one of the most incredible experiences of my life, it is to me, at least at the apex of this night, the first clear and resonding reason for my travels to South America. I´m trying to not sound collonial and awestruck, but I´m not doing a very good job of communicating these days.
Well, going to crawl all over and drink up every square foot of this town for the next few days, then off for a a few days to the sacred valley and Machu Pichu. Probably heading to Bolivia, (and cheaper pastures) on Friday. Oh yeah, about that, Mom, Dad, people who love me, you could always consider sending Bolivianos for my birthday this year, it´s the gift that just keeps on giving. (or I eat the apalca...)
Mucho Amor mi amigos,
Ñ
Well, Jess and I are out of Lima. It took 24 hours on a bus if not sent from, than at least designed in Hell. I would not say the staggering price tag is enough to avoid Cruz Del Sur in your immediate travelling plans, I would say that if you have never watched ¨Tootsie¨at 1 am, with a auditory presence approaching 300 decibels, then you should consider paying less for that experience, especially the world-ending feeling of hatred when the lovely attendant slides a bingo card into your hand, in case 3 am was the perfect time to bored, and listen to about a hundred numbers over a microphone. It´s gotta be a cultural thing.
Anyways, the whole point is that we got out! If you´re in Peru than Machu Pichu is somewhat of a must, and although not realatively close, we bent the road just enought to slide into the andes and onto the doorstep of Cusco. And that has been the most wonderful decision that I have made in a very long time.
Cusco is absolutely breathtaking. Aside from the verdant, pulsing andes which curl against the toes of the city, the ever-present reminder is that this city was laid, stone by immaculate stone, by the hands of the Incans thousands of years ago. The streets are narrow, cobbled, drained, winding. They stretch up against the hill sides and cut through cathedrals, walls, and homes. The lights of the city at night, against the blackened hillsides, are yellow and blue, the alternating drippings of the ever close stars.
Machu Pichu wasn´t known to the greater world populace until 1911, and since then tourism has become, as one would expect, the live blood of the economy in Cusco. But something has occured here unlike many other areas akin to this situation, and that is a somewhat wonderful relationship between annoying gringos and the people who call this place home. There are certainly moments when you and your naive skin color are nothing more useful than a week´s meals for a family, but at night the faces of everyone have broken out into wide grins and welcoming conversation. I simply cannot understand where such a patience and welcoming sprirt blossoms from. I doubt many of us, were our home to become beswarmed with thousands of foreigners, many more ignorant than our children, would remain so hospitable and humane to all comers. Cusco is one of the most incredible experiences of my life, it is to me, at least at the apex of this night, the first clear and resonding reason for my travels to South America. I´m trying to not sound collonial and awestruck, but I´m not doing a very good job of communicating these days.
Well, going to crawl all over and drink up every square foot of this town for the next few days, then off for a a few days to the sacred valley and Machu Pichu. Probably heading to Bolivia, (and cheaper pastures) on Friday. Oh yeah, about that, Mom, Dad, people who love me, you could always consider sending Bolivianos for my birthday this year, it´s the gift that just keeps on giving. (or I eat the apalca...)
Mucho Amor mi amigos,
Ñ
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