Soon after meeting in Arequipa we three Bristolian gentleman left Peru´s second city with stomachs full of alpaca and minds full of anticipation about the adventures that were spread out infront of us. The first of these being a six hour bus journey, landing us in the small town Puno. Puno is at a height of 3800m and falls into the deep waters of Lake Titicaca the largest lake in South America. We immediately checked into Hostal Virgen de Copacapana, a quiet, old building with what we gathered from the guide book had the best bathroom for miles....it didnt. Washing aside we ate yet more alpaca and drank the night away next to the typical cauldrons in most Punoian* bars knowing that the next day brought a horrifically early start. We woke up the next day at the unsaintly hour of 6:40am to the beeps of the bike powered rickshaws tootaling along below our window, minutes later and we were chugging out into Lake Titicaca on the slowest boat in the world.
*not sure.
An hour later and we stepped out onto one of the Islas de Flotatantes, made entirely from reeds, a mean feat we should say. We all agreed that it was abit like a human zoo with rich americans poking and photographing the local Quechuan people, but we could see nothing else to do and subsequently chose three particularly vicious looking reed poles. Once the main culprits had left on an overpriced boat journey to another island we finally got down to business with the locals asking us remaining immensly strong hulks to help them launch their newest boat the Reedmaster 2009. Further island hopping and we finally left the locals in peace and chugged for a further two hours to the third biggest island in the middle of the lake where another indigineuos people awaited. We strolled and panted with the altitude and evenually settled down to eat some fish from the lake..delicious. We returned to the boat on the other side of the island after purchasing some wristbands from a little girl who displayed the indiginious selling technique of absolute silence but pesistent pointing. Three hours of what felt like we were reversing across the lake and we were on terra firma.
The next day we left the delightful lakeside resort and took the incredible beast that was the Pony Express bus to the city of Cusco in the Peruvian Andes. By incredible we mean aweful and by Express they clearly meant the slowest bus on earth. It was made worse by the fact that the bus was bright pink and the driver obviously had a vendetta against any peruvian that was remotely near the road by beeping his horn and refusing to budge his bus an inch, thus forcing cyclists to swerve off into ditches etc.
We had heard that Cusco was the city of dreams and that we would never want to leave!! The drive in suggested otherwise; however the centre was rammed with restaurants, bars and overshadowed by majestic Cathderals. Our plan to have an epic saturday night-out, to so-call christen our travels together, was somewhat scuppered by the Peruvian elections (there was a countrywide alcohol ban.) Having been tipped off about a party in a youth hostel, we intrepid young gentlemen taxied it there to be met by two men with guns wearing balaclavas. This was made worse by the S.S. badges they wore on their arms, and the angry looks on their faces. Deciding that maybe this wasn´t going to be the best party, we elected to return to the centre; however for some strange reason it took a while to persuade our taxi driver to budge from the hostel. We slept off our traumatic experiences, before heading off to Machu Picchu on the Sunday morning. The cheapest way to do this was to take a chicken bus, followed by a collectivo, and then a train - a monumentous undertaking. Particularly as the man sitting next to us not only smelt of alcohol every time he breathed, but also smelt distinctly like the Elephant house at Bristol Zoo!!!
We trawled into Machu Picchu village at 10pm after a days travelling, before being hustled into what we thought was a bargain hostel, for 2 and a bit dollars!! Our lack of sleep, and incistance that we were flea ridden made us feel that maybe it hadn´t been a great choice.
The three musketeers had an unusual flash of organization, and managed to be up at 4.45am to catch the first bus to Machu Picchu. It proved to be a wise move as we were among the first few people in, to see the sunrise and experience a stunning and empty Machu Picchu. Our tranquil moment was sadly spoilt by some american "hippies" who said that our heathly debate about camera batteries, or lack of, was ruining their auror and experience!! Ignoring the pansies we continued to take novelty photos, and as the sun rose and lit up the famous sun temple we were left in ore at this incredible sight.
Trying to live up to the hardcoreness of our musketeer namesakes we soon decided to climb the mountain behind Machu Picchu, Waynupicchu. However, the fact that we had had 5hrs sleep, no food, no water and a 500m vertical climb to undertake didn´t really help our cause. Nonetheless we couldn´t undermine our now fierce reputation and so we began the supposed 1hr vertical climb. Half an hour later, and after shouts from passers-by of ´look at those lamas go´ and ´what a packhorse´, we were at the top, hardly out of breath and ready to continue with the novelty photo theme-HARDCORE! Soon enough we ran back down, in an attempt to catch Laurie who had sadly, for him, been ´door-knobbed´ at the top! Finally out of breath and in need of rehydration we chilled out and took in the beauty of this famous Inca ruin.
The rest of the day was spent in Machu Picchu Village, aka Aguas Calientes, where we indulged in some nice meals and a nap before heading to the thermal baths just outside the village. Much to our dissappointed the baths turned out to be Israeli full, murky coloured, urine smelling dirt pools. After a brief ´get your moneys worth´ half an hour in the so called medicinal baths we returned to try and get some sleep before the 5.15 rise the next morning. Soon enough we were abruptly awoken by Laurie´s shout of ´the train leaves in 5mins´ and so at lightning pace we headed for the train jumping on just as the departure whistle was sounding- perfect timing!
We are now back in the beautiful Cusco, and after an earlier game of our now regular darts and pool at Nortons, we are getting ready to take part in some of the cities well-known night life. Tomorrow we head to the oasis of Huacachina.
Look at these gayboys we snapped by the water.
