We recently completed our third international trip with our Foster City friends. In 2003 we went to Italy with The Execs and The #1s and to London, Barcelona and France with the same crew. The Bankers joined us for the Barcelona leg of that trip. Last month we spent close to two weeks in Peru. This time the TCGs joined us. This was the first one without kids, who are now old enough to stay home by themselves.
There were two distinct groups on this trip; The Watchers and Eaters and The Trekkers. My wife and I were part of the former, along with The Exec and Mrs. #1. Their spouses joined The TCGs for a rigorous hike along the Incan trail for several days. I'll leave the The Trek update up to #1. I'll provide commentary on the more lax aspects of the trip.
We all got into Lima late in the evening. The flight went well and all of our baggage arrived with us. We hit the airport ATM for some nuevo soles and then met our driver for the ride to the Radisson Hotel Decapolis Miraflores. The ride and most other aspects of the trip were organized by the #1s. Mrs. #1 is our de facto travel agent. We might not get anywhere without her.
As we boarded the mini-bus, I began my trip long role as the translator. My B.A. in Spanish has come in handy on all these voyages, even when I hesitantly faked it in Italy. Our driver was quite friendly but didn't want to take no for an answer when I told him The Trekkers already had a ride to the airport the next day for their flight to Cusco.
We got settled in and made it to the hotel restaurant right before closing time. I was worried the staff was going to be pissed because they wanted to go home but they were extremely gracious and our trainee waiter spoke English and did an excellent job. All the meals were good and we had a round of Cusqueňa beers. #1 remarked to me that the altitude medication was giving his beer a funny aftertaste. I had the same reaction the next day.
By the time I awoke the following day The Trekkers were gone. The W&Es got a Lima tour from Monica and Nieves. We started at Love Park, where the wife and I did our best version of El Beso statue's embrace. One shot caught The Exec lying in front of us catching a close up shot. Thanks for killing the mood buddy. A budding artist drew a picture of us. Below is a picture of the statue followed by the lifelike drawing I paid two bucks for.
We then headed downtown. We caught some historic sites, a couple churches, and one of the oldest buildings in Lima, which was once its highest, at four stories. At the Plaza de Armas we saw a procession of high school bands march around the square. I also got my picture taken with some rifle toting guards. I don’t think the Guardia Civil would have allowed that when I was back in Madrid in ’80 but I never asked because those guys scared the hell out of me. We had a great lunch at the nearby Los Escribanos then headed to the catacombs. I found them stuffy, creepy and cramped. They brought to mind the line “bone digger, bone digger” from Paul Simon’s song “You Can Call Me Al”. We were not allowed to take pictures in that building but it was a light day in that regard anyway. The Exec had barely snapped 300 by that point.
That night we headed to Astrid y Gastón, ranked #42 of the world's best , and deservedly so. We all agreed it was one of the best meals we've ever had. The bill, with two bottles of wine, came to $300. The same meal would have been $300 per person in SF. We didn't all get dessert but they served it anyway. It was a knockout punch in the form of a cube, with four drawers holding little bites that we could not finish. If you happen to find yourself in Lima, get there.
http://www.theworlds50best.com/awards/1-50-winnersThe next day we flew to Cusco, which has an 11,000 foot elevation. We were briefly reunited with The Trekkers, who were heading out early the next morning to begin their hike. I felt a little light headed at the airport and by mid afternoon I decided to catch a nap. After about four hours flopping around, the group convinced me to give dinner a shot. Chicha is Gastón Acurio's entry in the Cusco restaurant scene but I couldn't tell you much about it. I ordered an "agua con gas" (seltzer) to calm my stomach but after five minutes I realized I was not going to be good company. I caught a cab back to hotel, slept 12 hours, and that was the end of my altitude sickness.
The next day I did some wandering around with The Exec and Mrs. #1. My wife got her version of the altitude sickness so was down for part of the day. We were there the week of Inti Raymi, The Festival of the Sun. We caught the beginning of a parade. The Exec wanted to take some photos of women from a religious society. He wasn't making much progress talking to them in loud Spanish accented English so I stepped in and they granted permission. There were several groups with brightly colored costumes. We saw a stick structure which I thought possibly was symbolic of a jail, at least until the thing started blowing up. Oh, that's where they put the fireworks. I was about 10 feet away when it went off so I caught a tiny projectile in the chin. Don't worry folks, no damage to my mug. Our visit to Cusco’s Plaza de Armas was chaotic that day, with dozens in costumes, several huge floats, and a guy on stilts navigating the cobblestones.
The four of us made several other excursions, including the San Blas neighborhood and Sacsayhuamán. At San Blas, which is known for its artisans and workshops, the ladies shopped while The Exec and I hung with the freaks, some Americanos and some locals. We exchanged emails addresses and promised to write. There was also a VW bus with a sign announcing that you could get info. Here was the info I sought: What the hell are you doing parked in this narrow alleyway, hippie chick?
When we tired of the activities, the four of us would get into a tiny cab. Fortunately they let me have the front seat. The fare usually ranged from $1 to $1.50. I’d usually double it with the tip. I'm not a big spender but the low cost was surprising. On our trip to Sacsayhuamán, an Incan ruin, we engaged a driver to take us there and back, with a 45 minute wait in between. The total cost of that was $7. On all these taxi rides, upon our return to the hotel, getting out of the cab was akin to re-enacting our birth.
In Cusco, we were stayed at Los Niňos, which has a fantastic back story. A Dutch woman started it years back and plows all profits into helping orphans, feeding 300 a day. The staff and food were great. We spent a lot of time in the sunny courtyard.
http://www.ninoshotel.com/en/index.htmlWe did see a few things that were not so pretty. The lady copping a squat on the street corner to take a leak took me aback. And a drunken youth told wife she had a "nice ass". This put me in a quandary. Should I slug him, thank him, or compliment him on his perspicacity?
Our new friend Freddie gave us a ride from Cusco to Ollantaytambo. I bought a cool knit hat with llamas from a woman at a roadside stand along the way. We passed through towns such as Chinchero and Urubamba along the way. It was in Urubamba that I first saw the “mini-cabs”, which were motorcycles converted into three wheel taxis that two people could sit in the back of. The Exec took a couple rides in them in Ollantaytambo because he got gimped up, but I stayed the hell out of those things.
We had a good stay in Ollantaytambo. At first, the hotel clerk had me doubting my Spanish language abilities with his long, blank stares. We quickly determined it was him and not me. The wife and I climbed the 200 steps of the ruins. Our traveling companions had a bit of a tougher stay, Mrs. #1 with tummy issues and The Exec with his bad back. At one point I gave him a quick massage, which has been the cause of a recurring nightmare ever since.
We had some good meals there but never did make it to The Blue Puppy, which proudly advertised that they served “typical food”. The Exec had a chance to speak to the young American manager there and discovered that he is a student at my alma mater, Binghamton University, although I still call it by its proper name, SUNY Binghamton.
We then took a very scenic slow train ride to Aguas Calientes, our jumping off point to Machu Picchu. We stayed at a very high end place, The Inkaterra Hotel. A lot of the places we stayed at ran between $50 and $100 per night but this was $350 per person per night. Fortunately it was only night. As I often tell my kids, I’m not made of money. This is where we reunited with The Trekkers. They were on a high and appropriately proud of their achievement. I listened to their stories. I was quite proud of all the watching and eating I did but did not feel the need to rain on their parade.
Machu Picchu was an amazing place. Our tour guide explained the history in great detail. The workmanship required to build it with the tools available centuries ago is mind boggling. I was able to do a lot of climbing and didn’t come up lame until the end of the trip.
We then embarked on the last leg of the trip. We took the train back to Ollantaytambo and were met by Freddie, who brought us to Huasao. We stayed at Los Niňos Hacienda, which was the perfect place to relax before our trip home. We all rested up so we could help The Exec through the airports on the way home.
