We have arrived in Cusco, national treasure of Peru, capital city of the Inca empire, tourist haven and party town, and the launching pad for our Inca trail to Machu Pichu.
The peaceful city of Cusco sits 3700 metres above sea level in a deep valley surrounded by brown Andean mountains; it's historic centre filled with churches, museums and town squares in which to watch the world go by, while its suburbs creep up the mountain-sides, clinging precariously to the steep landscape at ever increasing altitudes and ever-decreasing temperatures. The town itself is full of history, which can be seen through its architecture and people - Incan stone walls run through lanes and streets, Spanish churches are built in between and on top of these walls, while Peruvian women in traditional dress wander around carrying baby lamas asking for photo, photo, PHOTO! There are many museums to get lost in, along with day trips further afield to the Incan sites of Pisac and Ollayantambo, two small towns situated in the Sacred Valley, places surrounded by jaw-dropping scenery.
Cusco apparently means 'navel of the world', and was named the capital of the Incan empire in the 12th century AD. At the time the empire stretched from Ecuador in the north to Chile and Argentina in the south, and covered the whole of Peru. The height of Incan power was in the hundred years preceding Spanish conquest, and a statue of its most infamous leader, Patchacutec stands proudly covered in gold in Cusco's Plaza de Armas.
Inca doorway
View from Plaza de Armas
And another view
Lucy does 'the Pachacuti' Horrible Histories style
We knew there would be plenty to see and do in Cusco, so we arrived nine days before our Inca trail was due to start. We also secretly hoped we could squeeze in a cheap trip to the jungle. We couldn't... That damn jungle! It apparently takes a few days to acclimatise to the altitude, so we decided to take it easy at first. Altitude sickness is weird - strangely enough, I am only feeling the first effects of it now, as I write this post-Inca trail. It can leave you breathless and winded, or with a headache not dissimilar to a hangover. (Not fair if you haven't been drinking!). It makes you feel like you've run a marathon when all you've done is climb a flight of stairs and can just make you feel thoroughly shit.
Anyway, I digress. Ais seemed to need more time to acclimatise at first than me, in addition to being particularly unimpressed with Cuscan temperatures (yep, we're sympathising with the Melbourne winter at the moment), so I amused myself with a walking tour of the city, taking in the sites and trying to work out the best places to eat, which according to our current budget turned out to be the supermarket... Although the San Pedro market offered some interesting culinary alternatives with everything from pigs' heads to cows' snouts for sale. Not for the faint-hearted to say the least, and although not squeamish I am thankful there is little chance of me ever consuming these delicacies. I'm still not sure what cow snouts would be used for. Nose soup anyone?
Another classic Peruvian dish sold at the market and in local restaurants is cuy, or roast guinea pig. Laid out on barbecues with their little arms and legs splayed out in front of and behind them, they look like flying rodents, apart from the fact that they're crispy fried on the outside and they're eyes are missing. Sadly, I've yet to persuade Ais to try one, and they definitely fall into the carne category, which means they're out for me, although I don't particularly have any sympathy for the critters ever since one bit me when I was a child...
The other things sold prolifically at the market and on EVERY street corner in Cusco, is an unbelievable amount of tourist souvenirs, including everything you might possibly need for your stay in the cold climes of the South American Andes. Alpaca jumpers, hats, scarves, gloves, blankets, leg warmers, coats, trousers, shoes, all in exactly the same array of colors and designs. There are also tablecloths, baby holders, drinks holders, rugs, bags, jewellery, belts, nipple warmers.... The list goes on. There is no way to differentiate between each stall other than how good you are at haggling (and trust me, you get good!). Of course most people start off by swearing that they won't buy any of this tourist tat that makes them look like every other gringo walking round Cusco, but of course you get sucked in, and its cold, and the prices are cheap, and finally you end up feeling left out for not wearing the traditional gringo uniform. Ais and I are now the proud owners of two alpaca jumpers, two alpaca hats and two pairs of hippy trousers which Ais swears she'll never wear outside of South America, where as I'm pretty sure mine are destined to become pyjama pants or Meredith daywear at the very least....
Anyone for Peruvian tat?
Our first museum stop was the museo de pre-Colombian art, a place filled with the most immaculate artefacts I have ever laid eyes on; ceramics, wood, jewellery, all finely carved or painted with astonishing precision. Most items predated the Incas and in many instances clearly showed where they got their influences from.
Nazca bowls
Oh deer...
Llama jug
Our second stop was Qorikancha, an Incan palace, originally covered in gold, which the Spanish thoughtfully destroyed and built a convent over the top of - couldn't possibly have those heretics running amuck worshipping the sun with all that gold at their disposal. Best to steal the gold, kill the inhabitants and place some pious nuns in charge to ensure such atrocities don't happen again.... God would like that. Still, the resulting convent was quite beautiful to look at with its mix of Incan and Spanish architecture, and it was interesting to see how the site had changed over time. Also, the religious pictures of Jesus in a skirt were quite hilarious. Who knew Jesus was a cross-dresser!?!
Inca walls at Qorikancha
Our third excursion was a trip to the hills to find ourselves with San Pedro. This weird and wonderful day will get its own special blog report...
My fourth cusco experience was a joyous date with a bout of dysentery. Twenty four glorious hours of bed-ridden pain, taking in the sites of several bathrooms, my doonah, and the inside of several toilet bowls. I have absolutely no idea where I picked up this fabulous illness - three days before our Inca trek, I might add, just to make it extra delightful and worrisome. The thought of climbing several mountain passes, all the while looking for a suitable place to have a date with the eye of a needle didn't exactly fill me with joy. There was no option, hardcore antibiotics were needed. Dysentery may have killed Wolsey, but it wasn't going to get this weary traveller....
Thankfully I woke up the next day feeling sore, but much better. I rewarded myself with a trip to Pisac, a small village located in the Sacred Valley, famous for its Incan ruins and huge market, which sold even more tat than Cusco. We resisted the temptation to buy additional alpaca goodies and wandered round for a couple of hours before heading back up the hill to Cusco.
Inca ruins at Pisac
The final day before our trek was spent preparing for our adventure. Emergency toilet roll was bought, along with six large Sublimes (new favourite chocolate bar. Statistic.), batteries for torches, baby wipes for showering, and painkillers for our soon-to-be hurting muscles. With our backpacks filled we headed off to our briefing to learn exactly what would be involved on our trip to Machu Pichu.
No comments:
Post a Comment