Arequipa with Hannah

October 28th - 30th

The next morning, Hannah and I were once again reunited!! After some post-overnight bus decompressing (hot beverages, conversation, and then silence while enjoying the beverages), we hit the streets to explore more of Arequipa. Fueled up on an amazing fruit, granola, and yogurt almuerzo, we explored south of Plaza de Armas local shops...aka overwhelming row after row of similar/identical merchandise, from knock-off Puma sneakers to rubber bands, Hot Wheels to plungers. Of course, I was perusing the adorable newborn outfits...all in English? I polled a few vendors, “do you have any clothing with the writing in Spanish?” “Si, claro....uhh.... actualmente, no.” “Don't you find that strange?” “Ummm...” Though I never received a definitive confirmation, from the expression on their faces, they found it strange as well. We spent the rest of the day finalizing a white water rafting trip, eating yummy (and cheap) sandwiches, and meandering. At night, we found ourselves being thoroughly entertained while people-watching in the main plaza – kids racing to and from a fountain for the prize of big hugs and kisses from Mom, a band of men dressed in Shakespearean clothing playing a slightly more civilized mariachi-style music, hippie jugglers, and, of course, a bride and groom taking post-ceremony photos.

Sunday began with a casual 'eat cereal from a water glass' kind of breakfast before we left to explore Monasterio Santa Catalina. In operation for more than 300 years before finally opening its doors to the public the 1970s, it is literally a citadel within a city. There is so much open space inside the monastery that there are even small streets with their respective names and signs. The colors were so rich and vibrant, the courtyards were immaculately maintained and bursting with flora, and the architecture seemed to change as we passed through each cloister area. Let's just say there were quite a few 10-second timer photos. A very smart bride and groom couple were capitalizing on the beautiful, brightly-colored backdrops and grabbing snapshots at every turn. We probably spent close to 4 hours exploring the compounds and eventually exited about 20 minutes prior to our scheduled pick-up for rafting. Basically, we ran to grab a quick sandwich, power-walked/jogged back to the hostel, and managed to walk through our room door just as the bell of the hostel rang, announcing out ride had arrived. I'm pretty certain we have never performed a complete change of clothes (bathing suits and all) so quickly on the trip thus far...possibly in life.









Once all rafters were collected from their respective hostels, we traveled to the main office where, while changing into appropriate rafting gear, I came face to face with my arch nemesis: the wetsuit. After a few failed attempts to produce adequate chest rise once in one, I grabbed a larger size and spent the following 10 minutes trying to get out of the first one. As you can see below, once suited up, we looked goooood!! We received a semi-scary briefing about river craziness, basic commands, and what to do when you fall out of the raft. The rapids were mostly class III with two or three class IV sections along our route. At one point, they told us to get out of the raft and swim upstream to the other side. “And why would we do that?” “Es divertido!” Alrighty...a few things: the water (even with a wetsuit on) was a few degrees above freezing, we couldn't touch the bottom, it was very difficult/nearly impossible to swim upstream in class III rapids wearing our ridiculous getup (regardless of how good a swimmer you are), so we all ended up downstream a bit grabbing on to whatever or whomever we could to stop our downward progress. The guides kept shouting “up, up, swim up” and looked quite alarmed, so eventually, they paddled over to us and hauled our bodies up and into the raft while simultaneously shouting “rapido, rapido...es muy importante!” You know, this all could have been avoided if you'd allowed us to remain in the raft...solo diciendo. My fellow rafter pulled me onto the side of the boat, and as I was resettling myself into position, he pulled me in again – feet flailing and face smearing along the bottom of the raft until forward progress was stopped by his shoe. Oooookay. We picked up a couple people who had floated quite a bit further downstream from the “swimming” bit, both of whom looked pretty shocked. All in all, we had a great time with a great team and a very knowledgeable, experienced guide, Horatio. Plus, to round out a great tour, they provided hot beverages and cookies at the end of the route. We changed behind some propped up rafts, dried off a bit before riding back, and enjoyed the great views of El Misti and the pre-Incan farming terraces of the surrounding area that the drive provided.


Traffic jam on the way to the rapids.


We call these "irresistible sexy suits."


A shot of the river we rafted!


We survived the rapids! Those are the "yay, now we can tell our parents" faces.



Our rafting team, minus the guy on the right. We really have no idea who he is.


The remainder of the evening was spent taking “hot”-ish showers (literally, a shower head that stuck out from the middle of the room itself and thus, got everything in the bathroom wet) and enjoying felafels and crepes from “El Turko.” Tomorrow, we head to Puno, our last town in Peru!

Arequipa and Colca Canyon

October 23rd - 28th

Another overnight bus ride and a full album of Aretha Franklin later, I found myself in Arequipa, a flatter yet still high-altitude city lying between three very impressive volcanoes. I like this city though I don't know why - beautiful views, very intricate Spanish architecture-esque storefronts, and the amazing color each building takes on when the sun rises or sets. It could also be the many cafes full of amazing food that line every street. After walking around for a bit, I decided on a hostel for the first night and headed out to explore the town and simultaneously shop for Colca Canyon tours. Plunging 4,160 meters into the ground below, Colca is one of the deepest canyons in the world, second only to neighboring Cotahuasi Canyon. When you are in a town that serves as base camp for all adventuring in the area, there is a plethora of tour companies that run multi-day tours - most with the exact same itinerary. Though I know shopping is NOT a strength of mine, I never fully understood to what degree. Turns out, the worst imaginable degree of indecisiveness...ever. It is always fun to learn new things about yourself :) Regardless, after two days of perusing nearly ALL companies in the city limits of Arequipa, I finally selected a three-day tour of this beautiful canyon! The other decision I made was to change to a smaller hostel that was half the price - we shall see in the morning if that was a good move or not. Early to bed for the 02:30am pickup time for the canyon tour. Word to the wise: If you are arising at an ungodly hour, please, for your own sake, make sure to account for your current time zone when setting the alarm - denying yourself one full hour of needed sleep is simply unacceptable.




Literally, one of the most amazing sights of the whole trip!


Cutest pigeon-whisperer so far.


After staggering to the van and joining my fellow sleep-deprived trekkers, we were provided blankets and told to just sleep until we arrived at our first destination for breakfast. The rising sun cast a beautiful golden orange shine against the Nevada-like flatland, sporadically decorated with spire-shaped rock formations and dramatic cliff sides. Our breakfast was...interesting? Puffed Incan corn, olives, strips of squeaky cheese, and a quinoa/oatmeal drink. Yeaaahhhh. Within minutes, I found myself bonding with two Americans over similar confusion about our culinary options. Jonathan and Benji - both Vanderbilt grads, the former with a voice like Barry White and the latter looking like a cast member of "Reno 911" - became my hiking partners for the rest of the day. Following breakfast, we stopped at "Cruz del Condor," an area providing amazing 360-degree views of the canyon below and, if lucky, sightings of the Andean Condor (largest flying land birds in the Western Hemisphere). Though there were no sightings at the lookout, as we drove to the starting location of our descent into the canyon, we were surrounded by three huge condors who inspire you to attempt flying off the back of a couch, as everyone did in their younger, more agile years. As we began our 1200 meter descent into the canyon toward San Juan de Chuccho, we were immediately mesmerized by the crazy honeycomb and jail bar-like rock formations that littered the steep canyon wall. Things like this both inspire me to take geology courses and make me wish I had payed more attention in the high school version of this subject. At the bottom, while waiting for all members of the group to reconvene, we met Angus, a crazy character with a thick Lithuanian accent who we appreciated the whole trip. After a short but very steep ascent into San Juan de Chuccho and a well-deserved Snickers, we all kicked back in our respective hut-style dorms set amongst the beautifully vibrant colors of the surrounding flora. The rest of the day included stuffing our face with lunch and dinner like we had never eaten food before, watching a bee pollinate a flower for about an hour, and converse (Spanish only) with Jean Carlos (our amicable, young guide) and two other guides. Highlights: amazingly funny interaction in which my German roommates asked me first for "plaster" (Band-aid) and, after receiving nothing more than a blank stare from me, then tried "bondage" and received a light bulb "ahhh" amongst many chuckles; having an instant understanding with a trekker from another tour company and spending hours talking about religion, bucket lists, morals, family, and life in general. A long but GREAT day.




The almighty Andean Condor soaring nearby.



Trail companions Benji and Jonathan during a much-needed trail mix break.



Crazy, crazy rock formations. Seriously, HOW???




Jean Carlos, our fearless leader and guide.

In the morning, we did quite a bit of up/downing and learning about various plants and their uses before passing through the towns of Cosñirhua and Matay. In Matay, we visited a small, one-room "museum" that explained the local crops, cuisine, dress, and culture. After a steep ascent, we were given a lesson about condors and their significance to the people and the area by Jean Carlos, who definitely earned himself the "rockstar" nickname. For about ninety minutes, we descended toward Sangalle oasis, a huge, circular area of green in a seemingly bland brown/orange/gray/brown backdrop. The walk into where we were staying was very "Secret Garden"-esque - handmade stepping stones leading you between rows of beautiful flowers and blooming bushes to an open green field and our thatched roof bamboo huts! While most people headed to the pool, I "rested my eyes" in the comfiest uncomfortable fishnet hammock in that canyon. I love how hammocks seem to heighten your senses and increase your awareness of all life present in that moment. I got my cook on with Jean Carlos and conversed with the owners of the "hostel lodge" while helping to prepare dinner.



If you are sitting there and wondering, "is that raw meat and fish hanging on a clothesline," you would be absolutely correct.


The museum. All of it. Seriously.



Classic group photo - please take special note of our resident Lithuanian, Angus, stage right.


Descending towards the Oasis.


The Se...cret Gar...den (please read in a Bruce Springsteen fashion).


Now, when I was shown what this tour entailed on a flat, 2-D illustrated map in their Arequipa office, I was led to believe there was minimal physical exertion required for this trek. When describing the third day, I was told "you wake up, have breakfast, and go up to where you have lunch." That "up" she was referring to turned out to be a very steep 1100 meter ascent (at 3280 meters...aka, minimal air) to the town of Cobanaconde. The ascent was NO JOKE, required multiple breath-catching pauses, and found me gazing longingly at mules that sped past us carrying the smarter trekkers, who paid the extra $20 to ride up in semi-style (let's be real, you are still on a mule) and omit the four solid hours of extremely arduous hiking. Well played, mule riders, well played. However, reaching the top provided that instant sense of accomplishment one gets as they, through the whistling of their expiratory wheeze, gaze out as the sun rises over the second deepest canyon in the world. There is a very warm, comforting, unspoken understanding every trekker who crested the hill had with those who came before them - an awesome feeling. Worth it...100%. And it wasn't even 9am! Two more meals and lots of driving to the soundtrack of Latin hits and American '80s rock ballads ensued. Once back in Arequipa, goodbyes were exchanged with the Vanderbilt boys and Jean Carlos before a Skype with the family rounded out a pretty amazing day!



The true stars of the day...the mules.




The road back to Arequipa.

Tomorrow, Hannah joins me once again for continued craziness and fun!

The Journey to Machu Picchu

October 19th - 23rd

So, there are two primary modes of transport to arrival at Aguas Calientes, the small touristy town at the base of Machu Picchu: hike up one of the three main, multi-day trail routes OR take the train from Cusco. Now, Peru is one of those awesome countries that has different prices for, well, almost everything - a train ticket for Peruvians is around $5 while a ticket for foreigners/travelers is about $100-200. While the gap in prices seems absolutely ludicrous, unfortunately, it is what it is. Since hiking and training it were out of the question for Bea and I, we elected to get there by "poor man's" means.

First step, cabbing it to the Santiago bus terminal, where we were bombarded, flagged down, and pulled in many directions by various companies' reps to their respective ticketing booths. For perspective, there were actually cops present to keep some "control" over the chaos and who blew whistles approximately every minute to remind the flagger-downers to take a breath. Then, appreciate the intelligence and preparedness of the local women who wind their way through aisles of cold, tired passengers selling bread and blankets. Bank.

Secondly, board the bus headed to Quillabamba and realize about 3 minutes into the journey that anti-nausea medicine is absolutely necessary. Fast-forward six very cold hours later and disembark at a pretty deserted "town" called Santa Maria at 01:50am. Now, wait until a cumbi (small passenger van) fills up in order to head to the neighboring town of Santa Theresa, about one hour by car. Slightly delayed due to sleep deprivation and early-stage frostbite, Bea and I were unaware that the scattered minivans throughout the darkness (that was in fact the town's main intersection) contained drivers in full recline position, thus appearing empty. Seeing this, our options were to join our fellow homeless individuals sleeping against nearby storefronts or hide out in the one-room police station. Clearly, we chose the latter and I spent the wee morning hours doing jumping jacks and eating Doritos in the back room of my second police station of the journey. The room we were in contained the a glass cabinet holding relatively empty but semi-organized binders of various reports and manuals...and the officer's ride. Classic. Eventually, after about 2 hours, we saw back lights of a van turn on - we sprinted out there only to discover that the van had miraculously been filled with individuals that can teleport? We saw NO ONE walking around during those hours except some local construction workers! Sneaky. There some people milling about near the entrance of a little convenience store - we meandered over and discovered another individual was waiting for the same thing. Unfortunately, that gentleman who was already quite intoxicated delayed the process further by purchasing a few cervezas from the store owner. Assuming the driver did not want that particular clientele, we waited another hour or so in the back seat of the cab until another person arrived who was heading to Santa Theresa.



Thirdly, take a cumbi or taxi ride along a very windy, death-defying, cliff-hugging, one-lane road to Santa Theresa. Once there, walk around like a semi-deranged person while having no idea what to do next. Get a second wind and remember where you need to go. Wait in the back seat of a cab for an hour-plus for two more people in order to depart. Finally, get a third person who initially says he will pay double his fare to compensate for the lack of a fourth passenger because he is late for work. Wait for the driver to pull over and fill all the tires with air. Ask "are you freaking kidding me?" (in Spanish) when the late worker suggests Bea and I pay two fares worth (each) so he doesn't have to pay anything.

Next, a somewhat tame 30-minute (15 if you had our driver) ride to the hydroelectric plant, where one can meet up with the train tracks.

Finally, walk along the train tracks for about 8 kilometers until you reach Aguas Calientes. This particular section of the journey is incredibly peaceful while still remaining adventurous, as you must often (and quickly) run to clear off the tracks from a rapidly-approaching train. When it rains, the experience loses some of its grandeur...unless you Bea cheers you up by creating a makeshift umbrella from huge banana leaves that have fallen alongside the tracks. Classic. The walk was made that much better by the presence of Bailey/Garbo/Pinta, a dalmation-like dog that led the way for most of the trip. His loyalty lay with us until the last kilometer, when another trekker carrying jerky passed us going the other direction. It was a sad and bittersweet moment of a crazy loss-rejection combo, but a street dog needs to do what it must to survive. Plus, jerky trumps PB+J crusts every time. The views are spectacular and, aside from the man-made wooden train tracks, the trek allows you a small glimpse into what post-Incan explorers may have felt while making their way to what would become the "holy grail" of ruins discoveries! Magical...truly.








Minimal space to pass. A "Stand by Me" moment was unintentionally reenacted.

In the spirit of saving money, upon arriving to Aguas Calientes, we continued to pound the pavement and find the most economical accommodations the town had to offer. Luckily, that turned out to be a hotel-like room that was chinche-free and had soap, toilet paper, AND towels. BAM! Minutes after dropping our bags, we headed straight for the local market and found great almuerzo deals. Skyping and perusing the overly-expensive tourist markets led us to a dinner table situated directly in front of a television playing a futbol game. If one cannot afford to eat in a restaurant with a television, you simply need to huddle in a crowd outside a window where the TV is visible (see below).


View entering Aguas Calientes, looking back towards the railway trail.


See that glow we have about us? That's what we like to call "sleep deprivation."


The following morning started quite early, as hiking up to the main entrance takes about 2 hours. The others I encountered along the trail all had similar looks on their faces - the "why is this so steep and will it ever end?" faces. Once I reached the top/entrance to Machu Picchu, I was already soaked and spent! Luckily, you can almost guarantee that there will always be people ready to capitalize on the misfortunes of others; thus, I bit the "unnecessary spending" bullet and purchased a bright green poncho, mainly to protect the camera. The weather was almost identical to that which Ashley and I experienced 4 years prior - rainy initially with a thick fog that starts clearing around the time you reach the top of Huayna Picchu (thank goodness). Walking through the maze of ancient stone is simply indescribable. Sorry. In the face of incredible beauty and mystery, life seems pretty simple. Zen is many things, but for me that morning, zen = sitting on an ancient ruin wall, watching fog dance around the grey stones of the former Incan city to the soundtrack of Trevor Hall and the Civil Wars, and sharing the moment with my sister via her novel I brought with me. Hours of meandering and contemplating how in the world the Incans managed to build such a beautifully strong city followed.








Eventually, while waiting in line to start hiking Huayna Picchu, I saw Hannah and her gang round the corner. They were definitely fatigued, but still happy, smiling, and up for their last hiking challenge. Though the series of steep switchbacks that continue for about 50 minutes without letup leaves one questioning their sanity, the views at the first clearing are (literally) breath-taking. The views allow you to see how precariously the city structures rest on the "Old Peak," as steep drop-offs to the river below flank Machu Picchu. Also, the switchback roads leading to the entrance from Aguas are also visible, which gave me a sense of accomplishment having ascended them earlier that morning. Though looking out onto Machu Picchu elicits many feelings, appreciation and happiness took the forefront. I was very proud of Hannah and her friends for completing the difficult journey. Personally, I was also very honored and happy to be present as Hannah experienced it - you could almost see the calm that overtook her as the "it is all worth it" moment came. It is just one of those moments when you realize how small and how human we are, yet how much a group of us can accomplish. Thank you Machu Picchu - you have once again simplified the chaos of life and highlighted that which is most important.




Obviously, our mandatory jumping photo!


Pretty much amazing.



After saying goodbye to Bea (gosh I am going to miss that girl), the journey of reflection continued on my two-hour walk along the tracks back to the hydroelectric plant. Luckily, after a three-hour wait, I was able to hitch a ride with a group of students back to Cusco. The following day was very relaxed and involved little more than journaling and Skyping, as the driver's fast and erratic behavior led to a night of upchuck reflexes (I mean, the man had a knob on the steering wheel so he could turn the vehicle at higher speeds). In the evening, the crew came over to Samay Wasi and we caught up on the last few days. The next day, we all had one last lunch in the plaza, overlooking a parade-like celebration for the patron saint of Cusco. After seeing Shaden off, we went exploring the "real" market Bea had shown me and found quail eggs! Yesssss! John became quite the fan. Janelle, Leah, Hannah, and I did some price-haggling for some beautiful scarves - Leah emerged "Bargain Queen" title, as she somehow got a very stern woman to come down to her proposed price. Hannah and I were both impressed and proud. Finally, it was time for my bus to Arequipa, so like any normal person would be, I was sent off hugs, safe travel wishes, and a choreographed "river" song and dance by John and Scott :) Love it!


The great debate :)


Goodbye Machu Picchu - you continually amaze!