Arrival in Cusco

I was glad that the air stewardess could speak a little English as I was not told beforehand that my flight from Santa Cruz would be stopping off twice more in Boliviar and I almost got out along with some of the other passengers and then strand myself, not so good.

The seat I had been given was an Aisle seat, which I dont like as you cant see anything, but then the stewardess asked me in Spanish if I preferred to go and sit by the emergency exit and let some other people have my seat. Its funny what your not taught in Spanish lessons or in the phrase books, but when she spoke again in English and I realised I was going to get a window seat again I agreed and was up like a shot.

The views from looking down heading east and up from Boliviar to Peru were just staggering. As we rose higher into the air we would go through levels of clouds and find outselves inbetween cloud formations, but the views were always exceptional.

We flew over Lake Titicaca and it was so strange to imagine that there was a huge lake, complete with fish, birds and riverpeople all living above the cloud line that we left bar before, and I wonder if some of them have ever been below the clouds. Once we reached the Andes then Magestic is the only way to describe their emergence from within the veil of grey and at one stage I was able to capture a mountain, a lake, snow and clouds all in one photo .. the view alone was worth the cost of the flight ticket, and I never before had any strong urge to become a mountain climber, but looking out there in that second I think I would have wilingly traded everything to be climbing up there with icepick in hand.

Cusco airport is also very small, but what space they have they use to push the whole tourist thing down your throat and I must have passed more travel agents than tourists by the time I reached the exit. My next job, after getting some local currency and in small demoninations, was to haggle with the taxi drivers as I have read in the travel guides and from the hostel confirmation that a taxi from the airport should be able to be got for as little as PE $7 soles, but I only managed 15 and that was down from the original quote of over 20.

I have never been too good at haggling, but if there is ever a place to start it is here I suppose and so I did my best and then a few minutes later I was in the taxi as it creaked and groaned its way up a winding set of old back streets, cobbled in the middle but with just enough flat space for a tyre to tread before reaching the pavements.

My taxi driver only spoke Spanish so here was also the prefect time to continue practicing the local lingo, and we managed to natter away happily a few basics of where I was from and where I was going til we reached the top of a steep incline and then after a tiny roll down the other side I was there at my hostel.

If I liked the view of my hotel in Rio of the beach and of the big dude, then I must have been in heaven with my view from the hostel here in Cusco. High above the centre of town I had an unrestricted view of the city centre, the hills and mountains opposite and when the weather clears up you can see all the way to an ice covered peak between the valleys of the nearer mountain ridges.

The place was full of travellers from all over and of many different ages. There were pensioners from Australia and early twenty somethings from Birmingham with everything in between, and they were also coming and going at all times of the day and night too. The hostel was going for a particular look and feel rather than trying to be ultra modern and clean, so you can see genuine fresco paintings on the walls and original roof beams of wood spanning overhead instead of it being all plastic, metal and with no character of it's own.

The locals may have thought that it was cold in the early morning, but by midday I managed to get another dose of burning sunlight on my face and If I do not start taking proper care of myself then I will end up as dark as the locals in no time, at least on my face and forearms. Cusco centre is a tourists dream, as it is both old and beautiful, modern and not too broken down, the people are colourful, the views are spectacular, there are very well documented tours and maps available freely at just about every corner you chose to go to and it is small enough to wander around and get a taste of it all in under a day.

Not that you can see or appreciate everything in just a day, of course not, but you can at least figure out what you want to do and where you want to go in the next few days, whereas in Sao Paulo a person could have walked all day in just a straight line and not have even crossed a quarter of it. Having arrived too late in the morning to catch any of the arranged tours, except the central city tour, I contented myself to a personal tour of the city and went a wandering to see what I could find and to get the direction and view of the local train stations for when I do need them in the mornings to come.

Most of the tours start between 5 and 6am, as the distances from here to the Sacred Valley or Manchu Picchu are quite far, so it meant that although I didnt have the city all to myself, everyone that was here to see Manchu Picchu had already done so or was on their way and so there wasn't actually anyone around to try and get together as a group and head off, although I suppose if i just propped up the bar and waited then sooner or later some would have turned up.

There are some great places to visit in Cusco and if Manchhu Picchu is just as impressive then this whole trip would have been worth it and my minor setback in Brazil can be totaly forgiven and forgotten. In the early afternoon I spotted some local spa's that offer an Inca Massage, that sounds interesting but as I need to get used to early rising and of course I got almost no sleep in the airport in Bolivia this morning, I chose to get an extremely early night at about 5pm and then wake up refreshed and awake tomorrow morning.

I did, I woke up at 3am ... a little too early, but never mind!!!