Coming to Peru – A Rocky Start (March 26 – April 3)

We know you've all been clicking 'refresh' on your computers awaiting this blog, and the inability to post it has been killing us too. Let me preface this entry by saying that we truly did love Peru and all it's beauty and culture, but those big-hearted little Incas did NOT make it easy for us...like the interpretaion of this sign...

This leg of our adventure began with our arrival in Tacna, the southernmost border town in Peru. Our intentions were to get from there to Cuzco by bus, knowing it would be an 15 hour ride, give or take a few. However, as we crawled out of the Crown Vic with our packs and started to enter the bus station, we were stopped by a local tour guide asking us where we were headed. He proceeded to explain that there are protests going on in between Tacna and Cuzco in the crappy pueblo of Puno (the only city on the Peruvian side where you can really see Lake Titicaca), which means it would be dangerous to go by bus. Since Pablo was already trying to help some hippied-out Norwegian girls find their way as well, he explained our options to us. All of them were pretty awful, and only one of them placed in Cuzco with enough time to acclimate to the altitude for our March 28 Inca Trail departure. So we spent the next 30 minutes frantically taking money out of ATM's, ordering plane and bus tickets, and getting explicit instructions from Pablo on where to go and what to do next.

With that being said, we scurried onto a bus en route to Arequipa, Peru. The kind and helpful Pablo paid for our bus entrance, which they charge for every bus in Peru, and we were on our merry way. With a 6:00 am flight to Cuzco looming over us, we knew we just had to get to Arequipa and deal with it from there. The plan was to sleep in a comfy airport seat since we'd be arriving around 9:30 pm. The bus ride was long and I had to fight my usual nausea while Byron drank a few cups (read...tried his best to finish the bottle) of wine, but somewhere in the middle of the nine hour journey we got to play an impromptu game of BINGO hosted by the bus stewardess clad in authentic Inca attire.

The six hours we spent awake in Arequipa were delightful. This is where I met my new beau, Cesar. Let me explain why a 50 year old Peruvian taxi cab driver became my biggest hero. Upon arriving in Arequipa, we were instructed by Pablo to go to a very specific address in the middle of town to pick up and pay for the other half of our plane tickets. We had to get there quickly before the travel agency closed. So we ran off the bus, skipping the requisite bathroom stop to find the closest taxi (Oh, we are off the bus? I absolutely must find a bathroom! Never mind that there was a perfectly good one just a few moments ago! - Love B.). We told him the name of the plaza and relaxed a little bit. When I caught my breath and decided to look for the exact address, I realized that my small purse containing my passport was missing. In a panic, I told Cesar he had to turn around because my passport is on the bus!

This is where my admiration for Cesar began. He sped and honked and yelled until he came to a screeching halt at the main entrance of the bus terminal. Byron ran in to find the bus while I waited with our backpacks and of course, with Cesar. He proceeded to calm my nerves and asked me where we were planning to sleep. When I told him “el aeropuerto,” he shook his finger vigorously and told me that it closes at night and we would not be allowed to do so. Great. He said he knew of a nice cheap place, and that he would take us there after we picked up our tickets.

With all that settled, I sat with my chin on the windowsill of the car's backseat waiting for Byron to appear. And so he did – passport in hand! Next stop, travel agency. Very long story short, we got our overpriced plane tickets, stayed in a very cheap ($10US) little room with a view from the roof one block from the main plaza, ate a three-course winner winner chicken dinner for less than $3US each and made it to the airport in the morning for our flight to Cuzco. Wheewww! And it was all thanks to Cesar, mi heroe.

Just get us to Cuzco already! This is us about to get on our silly little hour-long flight. Pretty chipper for 7:00 boarding time, huh?

While in Cuzco, we met up with our roomie from Buenos Aires, Bianca, and her Aussie traveling companion Phil. We all stayed at Hostal Resbalosa which overlooked the entire city. This meant that every time we wanted to go home it was an exhausting uphill hike. Exerting yourself at an altitude of 3300 meters really takes a toll on one's lungs. It was worth it and a great warm-up for the ominous Inca Trail hike. About that... When we arrived at the travel agency that we had already given our $400 down payment to, it turned out that they never wrote us down in their reservation book and we did not have spots on the trail. We were very upset, especially since they had come so highly recommended to us by various people. We had a long conversation with them about our options and “special deals”. We left the office while we stewed over our options.

After talking with our friends about other Inca options, we decided on a Jungle Trek package that would allow us to see Machu Picchu, just another route to get there. We stormed back into SAS Travel to demand our refund. The manager looked genuinely hurt, and maybe we felt a little for him, but that dude tried to ruin Peru for us. Bum. What unfolded on our Jungle Trek was more than we had ever needed...and $200 less for each of us.