Que Paso en Peru

Hace mucho tiempo que escribi.

Since it has been a while since I have written, I feel as though I should record something here. We have passed through an entire country, numerous cities, two deserts, tropical forests, and more mountains before settling down here in Quito for a month of Spanish classes and returning to the States. I never have the ambition to write when I have a chance, and so here I am with a lot of ground to cover. In the last blog I mentioned the bike ride down the "world´s most dangerous road," which lived up to the hype. In fact, I think it was the best day we had in South America.

A half hour bus ride carried us atop a mountain just outside of La Paz. After a sip of pure alcohol, and a splash on the tires of our bikes as an offering to Pacha Mama, the Incan earth god, as is a local custom for those who pass through the worlds most dangerous road, we were prepared to descend the mountain. Wearing many layers of clothing at the top, which we would eventualy remove the majority of before reaching bottom, we started out on a new paved road. A steep incline provided a ride that reminded me of snowboarding. Gliding down the smooth surface, one could control the speed of the bike simply by sitting upright to make more wind resistance, or put your head down and really fly down the mountainside. I chose the latter, and had a blast passing cars on my way down.

We eventually came to a point where we transferred to the old gravel road, the one that is known as "The Worlds Most Dangerous." (thats fun to type) Its a thin and winding road that had been carved into the mountainside to provide passage for those who dared to use it. (To make a point of how secluded it was, there was a house on the way, that served as refuge for one of Hitler´s right hand men, who had fled after the war. As the story goes, they found him sipping a coffee on this peligroso calle, and hauled his ass back for the Nuremberg Trials. Anyway, it was an interesting story.) So we found ourselves quickly descending the mountain, by now we had shed clothing as the drop in altitude also raised the temperatures quickly, and likewise, the environment. Waterfalls fell on the trail, creating rainbows for us to whip through, on what was a crystal clear day. They were plenty of stories on the way about people whose lives ended at the bottom of the cliff to our left side. A couple of times, I was pushing my luck and felt my tires skid across the gravel road, inertia pulling me toward the same fate, but of course I had Pacha Mama with me, and I am here to tell the tale. Those who were not as lucky usually had someone pushing them. Trucks still use the road and so oncoming traffic on a narrow mountain road has had fatal consequences. Just a couple weeks before us, a French girl was clipped by a truck and plunged. Another story of two Israelis who were messing around, ended when one pushed the other off the cliff. However the most interesting is marked by a monument. When Bolivia was entering Democracy and the people in power realized they were going to lose the upcoming election. They abducted the top five guys of the opposing party, blind folded them, and brought them to the worlds most dangerous road. A 1500 meter (or 4500 feet) fall will put a stop to a political movement eh. It also makes for a adrenaline filled ride, as sometimes my body would be hanging over the edge as I leaned into a corner. The trip ended at a animal refuge, where I was eaten alive by sand flies that itch far worse than mosquitos, and Sarah was attacked and bitten multiple times by a ferocious little monkey. Que divertido no?

After a night stop in the tourist trap little town of Copacabana, where one can take a boat ride to the nearby island that the Incas believed is the birthplace of the world, we were moving again, destination Cusco. Another bus incident ocurred when a lady attempted to hide some sort of contraband under my seat when a policeman boarded the bus at border checkpoint. At least I got to put some of those Spanish lessons to use, using a loud voice and the "imperative commands," my new friend kindly took the contents of her bag to another part of the bus. Although it was a brutal ride, we eventually made it to Cusco.

Cusco was the capital of the Inca Empire before the Spanish invasion. The city was literally built on top of the Inca ruins, using the same stones that had been laid hundreds of years ago as the foundation of the new buildings. The city is still intact, even in an area that experiences earthquakes, proving their advanced knowledge of seismic activities and architecture. The city consisted of very narrow streets, which was quite peculiar, interesting, and also a pain to walk on when traffic passed. However, it had a beautiful style all its own as the influence of the Incas remains strong, making it a very unique destination. The locals were all over the gringos, selling what ever they could make that someone might possibly buy. Their faces would light up when we walked around a corner into their presence, in the same way I always imagined mine would if a deer suddenly popped out at me while I sat waiting in the woods with a rifle in my hands. But it was kind of fun to practice our Spanish with them, and mess with the kids that hunted us, wanting to shine my hiking boots. The city was fascinating, and for this reason, filled with gringos, but not just backpackers, also older weathly people from all over the world, that flock to Cusco to view the lost city of the Incas.

When Pizzaro defeated the Inca King Atahualpa in Cajamarca in 1532, word spread through the empire quickly. He was allowed to enter into Cusco, ending the short reign of the Incan Empire. The Incas told the Spanish about all their cities and where to find gold and silver, but no one told the Spaniards about the recently constructed religious sanctuary, Machu Picchu. It was a place where the Incas would spend a short period of their lives, studying astronomy, religion, architecture, and surely much more. The city was so sacred that they abandoned it, some of the Incans taking their own lives rather than leave, in order to ensure that the Spaniards did not find the city. It was not until 1911, when a North American made an expedition to the area and paid a local farmer $1 dollar to take him to the lost city of the Incas, that it was discovered by non indigenous peoples. Naturally, now there are trains, buses, and hikes daily, that bring thousands of tourists a day to this intriguing ancient city built high on top of a mountain. These trips garner high prices from tourists, of which the indigenous locals, whose ancestors built the religious and education institution, see nothing. We returned to Cusco, and after having our clothes washed at the hostel it was time to keep moving, onto what became the new capital of Peru after the Spanish invasion, Lima.

Lima was the first time that the American influence could strongly be felt. Of course we were staying in the upscale neighborhood of Miraflores, complete with a modern mall with beach front property, which provided a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean for the shoppers who seemed to speak more English than Spanish. Maybe they were staying at the posh Mariott across the street. Our four days in Lima consisted mostly of hanging out by the ocean, at one of the endless parks that line the coast. Their beaches are different as the city is elevated ontop of a cliff, leaving little room for beach activities like in San Diego. Por eso, they have endless parks atop the cliffs which provide great sunset viewing. The guys at our hostel were very cool and we spent a lot of time there, again, it was a great opportunity to practice Spanish. As we watched baseball, I attempted to explain the rules in Español, and how the Yankees vs Red Sox is the country´s greatest "clasico." Of course, it does not compare to the passion of futbol, I was told. I would probably have to agree.

And so we boarded another bus, one that would rival the Bolivian Bus Ride on a fun scale. Leaving five hours late, and lasting over forty hours in duration, we finally arrived here in Quito, our last stop. Absolutely exhausted, we set out to find an apartment. Although it is not cheap by Ecuadorian standards, as everyone loves to point out, we have a view of the city, a pool, and a sauna...... which I think I will had back and put to use.

More to come soon,

Chau,

A