Puma Marca

My last day in Ollantaytambo was wonderfully warm and sunny. I was not sure how to spend the day and so asked advice from Joaquin at the B&B. He made several suggestions and I chose the option to walk into town along an old Inca trail. This meant going to the end of the platform and then following the railway line for a while before coming to steps that led onto the trail.
The first part was easy, but when I clinbed the steps, I found the way was running with the water of a small stream. Unsure what to do, I saw two men coming from further up and asked if this was really the way into Ollantaytambo. They assured me that it was and so I continued, picking my way along dry rocks. Then, the route became a waterfall!! I looked back and saw that I was being waved to go ahead and I began to climb following the visible footprints of my waytellers. The climb was awkward but not difficult and I felt a sense of achievement in reaching the top and finding a broad, dry trail alongside fields of corn and an Inca irrigation system. It was a very pleasant walk, emerging underneath the walls of the great fortress and then into the main square.

A good hour was spent in the little Museum which was opened especially for me. It is in a beautiful old building and though the old artifacts are few, the information about the ancient and modern way of life was really good -- and in English as well as Spanish. Sadly, there is no-one who wants to take care of the Museum and it may have to close.

Still only 11.30am and I wandered across the square and enquired about going to Puma Marca a small Inca ruin in the mountains. Although they offer trips on horseback, I wasn't sure that I could manage two hours each way (and if I did, I feared the aching consequences next day!) so, my next best option was to take a taxi as far as possible up the track and to walk the rest of the way, see the site and walk back to town. It took a while, but a taxi and guide were found and a price negotiated. Whilst I waited, a Sundog appeared overhead -- a circular 'rainbow' around the sun!! I had never seen one before this trip and now, here was a second one -- the first was on Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca.

The taxi ride took us up a steep winding dirt track with wonderful mountain vistas and we continued until the car bogged down in a deep muddy puddle. The driver and guide lifted and pushed and the car got free but the driver was understandably unwilling to go further and we walked from there. It was a steep climb. I had thought that after La Paz I was good for any Sacred Valley altitude, but the climb was taxing and I finally got to the gate of Puma Marca puffing and panting and barely able to speak.

The ruins were beautiful and the site so tranquil and with beautiful wildflowers everywhere that it was hard to believe the warlike past. The evidence was there in the blackened stonework -- Pizarro had burnt the citadel in retribution for having been defeated at Ollantaytambo. The location was fantastic, high above an intersection of 3 valleys, controlling routes into Cusco, the jungle and Ollantaytambo. The river ran singing loudly overthe rocks below and around was a natural energy vortex from the mountains.

My guide, Daniel, was knowlegeable and could give me as much of the history and function as I wanted as well as respecting the times I wanted quiet space to myself. We meditated together in the Temple and later shared my bread and cheese with the Custodian.

The walk back was wonderful, down steep tracks onto an old Inca road which wove around the mountains and eventually down into Ollantaytambo town. There were more waterfalls to cross en route and I 'missed' a stepping stone at one of them and got a trainer full of water. I eventually reached my hotel tired and sunburnt and sat over a cold Cusqueña beer watching the trains arriving back from Macchu Piccu and hoping the returning ravellers had had as good a day as me.

Ollantaytambo

I've visited Ollantaytambo two or three times in the past but always with a group or guide and so with a constraint on the time there. This time I had three days in the little town which still retains the Inca layout of roads and buildings. Like Cusco, the small streets are cobbled and the lower part of the houses is constructed of large irregular stone blocks. Unlike Cusco, there is a constant flow of water alongside the streets in special channels that bring water down from the mountains.

My trip nearly didn't happen as there had been a call to strike action by all transport workers. It was cancelled at the last minute and so buses and taxis were getting through the sacred valley but no trains were running. It had been raining heavily in the night and was still raining when I got my bus to Urubamba (to change for Ollantaytambo) and so I was unsure whether the great rocks and trees on the road were from landslides or were part of a deliberate blockade. It was somewhat scary taking a slalom route through whilst avoiding oncoming vehicles. Still, all was well and I reached my hotel in one piece.

I had been recommended to stay at El Albergue and so I booked in for my stay. The website said it was 'next to the railway station'. In fact, it was so next that it was on the platform and the restaurant and bar were shared with travellers to and from Macchu Piccu. It was fun to watch the various classes of train go by whilst eating breakfast or dinner and I was a little tempted to join the train myself but then, there was plenty to see in Ollantaytambo itself.

I spent two days exploring the great ruins -- wandering all over and watching condors fly over the mountain tops. I found the energy to climb all the terraces and walkways and to the top of the complex of buildings above the great Temple of the Sun. I 'found' the place where the small falcons were nesting, meditated in the Temple of the Condor and by the Bath of the Ñusta. The weather was kind to me and the sun shone for most of every day there.

La Paz -- Carnival & Mexican tourists

End of February and back in Cusco. My time in La Paz co-incided with Carnival and as the excitement built and things got busier, so did my project work with the deaf children. Outside the Hotel Rosario the street vendors set up ever more stalls of costumes, masks and colourful decorations until on the last day before Carnival they had almost obscured the door to the hotel.

Carnival is a strange collection of ceremony, revellry and (presumably) Catholic belief and as it is also the time of blessing the Earth for a good harvest, a lot of water gets thrown. Water symbolises fertility and abundance. This year, because of a water shortage, a decree prohibiting the throwing of water bombs had gone out. This did not deter anyone and plenty of balloons filled with water were thrown, sometimes dangerously. For some reason, water pistols and enormous 'guns' with reservoirs were OK -- or else the authorities turned a blind eye. Even worse were the cans of spray foam!

The amount of water thrown and alcohol consumed deterred me from all but the fringes of the festivities. The first day was devoted to the Children's parade, the second to a parade of Pepinos -- figures in costumes resembling Pierrot, but with masks and batons that were more Mr Punch. The third day was for regional dancers and on the fourth, people hold Cha'lla, a blessing for the earth and their houses. Mostly this is a private family affair but there was also a big Municipal Cha'lla at which the President was expected. That was the only part of Carnival that I participated in and, sadly, Evo Morales did not turn up.

Pachamama got her full due of alcohol at Cha'lla!! The main square had altars and bands of dancers and musicians at each of the 4 quarters and a central platform where the civic dignitaries gave their speeches and the shamen performed the ritual.I had bought flower petals from a street stall as these seemed to be the 'right' thing to offer for this day and when I saw a group of people gathered around some offerings, I approached and asked if I could add my flowers. I chose well -- these were the officiating shamen!! I got hugged by all and blessed with huge handfuls of confetti rubbed onto my head and handfuls of coca leaves to chew.

The main despacho contained many objects including the traditional llama foetus (and my flowers). It was placed on a small stack of palo santo - an aromatic and sacred wood -- and many prayers and blessings were said. Then each of the dignitaries circled the offering pouring alcohol from gourds. More prayers were said and the shamen all lit cigarettes and puffed a couple of times before putting them into the pile. I guess Pachamama is a smoker! The fire burned hot and fierce and when all was consumed and deemed accepted, the dancing began. I had gone to the festivities with Rose-Marie, a Canadian woman I met in the hotel. We were so obviously tourists that we were picked out by a TV crew and interviewed about where we came from and how we liked the city and the festival. Then we got pulled into the dancing, a fairly vigorous affair which left me coughing and spluttering for some time after it stopped. The whole ceremony must have lasted an hour or more, the sun blazed down on us and it was wonderful.

With all the extra crowds and tourists, the Carnival was also a great opportunity for thieves and people operating scams. I got targetted twice by the 'Mexican tourist scam'. The first time I was really taken in. A man claiming to be a Mexican tourist asked me to take his photo. We were near the Church La Merced and I assumed he wanted it in the background, but he asked me to go inside and take his picture near an altar. I obliged and then he asked for another at a different altar. As we went across the church, an 'official' came up flashing some sort of ID. I assumed we had been photographing in a forbidden place and so was ready to be apologetic, but then the 'official' asked for ID -- passport or credit card. My 'friend' handed over a credit card and it was deemed OK and handed back. I had gone out with no cards or passport, just the photocopy, which I showed but this was not OK and the 'official' said I'd have to go with him to my hotel. Then I remembered the warnings in the Guide Book about such scams and the fact that my host in La Paz, Diana, had been kidnapped and held until she gave her card and PIN number. So, I loudly and firmly said "This is not OK" a couple of times and suddenly both guys walked off and vanished quickly into the crowd outside. I was shaken, but none the worse for wear and the second time it happened I was almost laughing at the neat way it unfolded. The perpetrators are so very convincing it's hard to believe they are fake.

High Life

It´s certainly ´rainy season´ here at the moment and the frequent thunderstorms and heavy rain have meant that I have rarely had a view of the snow capped peaks that are featured on all the postcards. The sun is extremely hot and strong when it´s out but the minute clouds appear, it feels really cold. One needs several layers of clothing and an umbrella at all times.

Originally named Nuestra Señora de la Paz, the city was founded at the end of one of many wars -- so many that I forget which. The Spanish city sits in a deep valley surrounded by mountains and has spread outwards and upwards in a haphazard sprawl around various oddly shaped rock formations. The outward spread has lead to a number of very different districts from the quaint colonial to the brash modern and from Indian markets to very up-market boutiques. High above La Paz is the Indian city of El Alto another huge and ever growing sprawl that sits on the edge of the heights peering down on the other city below. There seem to be no Health & Safety regulations and some buildings perch perilously with random overhanging balconies and additional stories. Lack of space has lead to some very weird and wonderful upwards extensions to houses.

I have yet to visit El Alto but La Paz is a very big and very busy city. Someone described it to me as ¨One big market¨and you can find everything, including the kitchen sink (really) for sale out on the streets. Right now it is the run up to Carnival so there are extra stalls selling costumes, masks and various streamers or decorations. Wares are spread over pavements and on little stalls on the road itself so that people and traffic compete for space to pass by. Traffic is a major problem and private cars are banned from the centre on certain days according to license plates.
Public transport is cheap and widespread -- there are radio taxis (safest) ordinary taxis, set route taxis (designated by green flags on the bonnet) minibuses and wonderful old Dodge or Ford buses. These old buses are works of art with painted slogans and insignia on the bonnet -- silver swans, horses, or rockets. From the street where my hotel is situated -- Calle Llampu -- I can look down a very steep cobbled street towards San Francisco church and plaza and see the lines of traffic criss cross at intersections. The vehicles are so old and beat up it´s a marvel that the brakes hold, but they do! People dodge between the vehicles, traffic police wave orange cards and blow whistles with very little effect.

Luckily my hotel is an old colonial style building so although it is on a very busy street, the rooms are mostly at the back and set around little courtyards. My room is off one of the larger courtyards with a central fountain and pots of bright geraniums and creepers. There is solar heated hot water at all times -- bliss! Also free Internet, so though the connections are slow and the keyboards decidedly odd, it seems churlish to complain, especially as Freddy (who runs the bar/internet cafe) is such a whizz and can cope with most queries with a smile and enormous patience.

My own patience gets sorely tried. ´Peruvian time´ became a bit of a joke, but Bolivian time is something else! No-one is precise unless for a bus, train or plane and 15 minutes late is considered ´on time´. For most appointments I have been waiting at least half an hour and often longer and it adds to a certain level of tiredness at the end of the day. So far, my project with the deaf children has been very slow to get off the ground. There is no designated place to work, so I have seem one or two people in my hotel room and then visited families after school (which finishes at 6pm) or over the weekend. There are so many people wanting help that it´s hard to say no and although I originally came for two weeks it looks as if I will have to stretch my time here for a few days more -- especially if I want to do any sightseeing! At the moment I am considering taking a bus, a short distance (only 3 hours) to one of the biggest Carnivals in the country. It will be a long day and a very jam packed one and I´m not sure I can deal with the crowds, noise and the dangers of theft/mugging. Still a few days in which to make up my mind.

In La Paz

I have to admit that I knew next to nothing about Bolivia before I came here. Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid and Che falling to hitmen from USA and that´s about it. It´s a big country that seems to have had more than it´s fair share of invasion and interference and no sooner had it declared itself an Independent country than all the neighbours moved in to annexe parts of it´s territory. The hardest to come to terms with has been losing access to the sea when Chile moved in and made Bolivia a landlocked country.

Long before that, waves of settlers and conquerors had moved across the continent establishing their empires and cultures. The Inca ruled Peru, Bolivia, Equador and more besides before they fell to the Spanish Conquistadores. Much that is ´typical´stems from this. The Bolivian dress for the women was made compulsory by Spain as it was feared that retaining of the old style of dress would lead to revolution. So, the women were forced to adopt a Spanish style of long, flounced skirt over many petticoats, an embroidered blouse and a fringed shawl. The shawl is always folded to a rectangle, never a triangle, and secured with either a safety pin, or a very elaborate silver or gold pin according to status. The ´typical´bowler hat was a much later addition and was introduced from Italy. The story goes that it was a fashion for men, but the men would not wear it, so a publicity campaign stated the hats were good for fertility -- and the women began to wear them and have done so ever since!

Coca has long been a bone of contention and La Paz has an excellent Coca Museum that details the history and many uses of the leaf. As a Sacred plant used by the Inca nobility it was deemed a thing of the devil and condemned by the Spanish Church. However, they had to give way when it was found that the slaves in the gold and silver mines worked longer, harder and with less aggro if they chewed the coca leaf and so a Royal decree from Spain made coca usable again. Later, coca cola was developed and used small amounts of cocaine in the manufacture and a particular ´tonic wine´sold in France and containing cocaine was endorsed by the Pope! Later still, an American banker declared coca to be the cause of mental slowness and general poverty and so the World Bank moved in to stop production with some severity. Now, the Bolivian President, who came from a coca growing region, is working for the rights to grow and chew the sacred leaf.

Bolivia now has a new constitution and a Government that states the aim of equality for all the classes. It´s a country rich in resources but extremely poor in the benefits to the population as a whole. As in so much of the world, the wealth is concentrated amongst a minority and it will be interesting to watch and see if Bolivia can lead the way for other nations to follow into a Brave New World.

La Paz

So, here I am in La Paz and feeling the effects of the extra few thousand feet of altitude -- slight headache and nausea and puffy eyes. I have been lucky once again in that I have a room in a lovely old colonial hotel at half the rate because the director of the project I've come to work on is a friend of the owner. The hotel is ecological and has solar heated water so hot showers are available all day! Great.

The bus journey from Copacabana began with the usual chaotic sorting out of tickets from various agencies and then a trek uphill to the place where the bus was parked. For once, I'm glad that I'm not taller as the seats are not built for long legs and are rather cramped. Our journey was a short one, only four hours. People seem to travel huge distances via the bus networks and a journey of 20 hours is not unusual. Quite a different attitude. I find 13 hours of flying taxes me and the thought of longer on a bus where you cannot get up and move around .... well, that's a whole different experience. The German woman who sat next to me had done a number of long journeys and said that you just shut your eyes and pray because Health & Safety Regulations simply don't apply.

Our route took us along the side of Lake Titicaca a lot of the time. The lake is vast and I don't know if it's fresh or salt water but it seems like a sea with waves and levels that fluctuate. On the other side, the mountain vistas were incredible, especially the snowy peaks of the Cordillera.

The scenery and way of life seemed similar to Peru but subtley different in a way I cannot describe. We passed great dry river beds despite the fact that this is rainy season and there should have been plentiful water. Diane, my host here, told me that they have had an unusually dry few weeks but that if there was significant rainfall, then the rivers would be in spate and flash floods are not unusual. As in other parts of the Andes, the glaciers are noticeably smaller year by year and the one above the city which used to be a ski centre is now bare rock.

At one point we all had to leave the bus for a ferry crossing to the other side of the lake. Again, in all the seeming haphazard chaos, all was well managed. The bus boarded a special flat bedded vessel and we passengers a series of small boats. Once safely across, we boarded our bus and continued.

Coming in to La Paz is quite amazing. The bus passed through the poorer outskirts and suddenly we were aware of the main city way way below. It was like looking down into a crater and seeing a sprawling city there. We descended via a wide autopista through great sweeping curves under cliffs of soft rock and eucalyptus trees and rivulets of decidedly non living water. Suddenly we were in densely crowded tiny streets and, having slowly negotiated our way, we suddenly stopped -- we had arrived, and in a different street from the one I had expected to be met in. Luckily, by the time all the luggage had been handed down from the top of the bus, Diane had found me and the hotel was not far away.

So, here I am, slightly scared to venture out into a city that is somewhat dangerous. Diane was telling me that she herself had been kidnapped and held for two hours whilst her credit card and PIN had been taken from her. She was released then and as there was no money in her account, she was financially none the worse for the experience! So, I've had warnings to be extemely careful at all times as I'm in a very touristy area and therefore one of high risk. Help!! I trust my Guardian Angel is putting in the extra shifts.

Copacabana, Bolivia

It's been a great breathing space here on Lake Titicaca and now I feel refreshed and ready to move on to La Paz later today. Today is rainy and the skies are grey. A big storm in the night has left the nearby mountains with a dusting of snow -- it also found the leak in my skylight so I awoke to find water dripping onto the bed! Not too serious and when I told the management, they gave me a free breakfast. Every cloud -- and all that.
Copacabana is something of a hippie place but that means there is plenty of information about travel. There is a well trodden route, just like in India, and there are always people to advise the best way of taking the next step. On the downside, it's a messy sort of place as if it isn't quite sure of it's identity.
I was incredibly lucky to happen on the Blesing of motor vehicles on the day I arrived. It's a big event and ensures safe travel for the vehicle and family. All the motors line up outside the cathedral and then are decorated with flowers, streamers, holy pictures etc. At the appropriate hour, a Franciscan father came out of the cathedral in his robes and wearing a white baseball cap as the sun was fierce. He carried a bucket of holy water and a 'splasher' a sort of mop shaped like a flower. At each vehicle, he prayed and blessed and then liberally sprinkled the whole motor and the whole family before moving on to the next. Then the family let off fire crackers, threw flower petals over the vehicle and then alcohol! Later the vehicles paraded through the streets. much more fun than Motor Insurance.

The Cathedral is famous for it's Moorish style of building. Graceful white arches and cupolas and gaudy Gaudi type of tiling on the domes. Inside the cathedral is the statue of the Candelaria Virgen. She is patron of both Puno in Peru and Copacabana. Apparently when the Spanish came to convert the natives the local people chose this virgen to focus all their indigenous beliefs on, so she bridges the cultures and inspires deep devotion. Actually there are 2 statues, the one in the main church and the 'real' miraculous one in a special chapel. It was carved by a descendant of one of the Inca rulers who had a vision. His original carving was rejected as not fitting the subject and so hw went off, studied sculpture and made a new statue. Once installed in the Cathedral, miracles began and she was later made ófficial'by the Vatican. I found her by following some local people who were bearing big sheaves of flowers. Gladioli are the preference and the churches are decked in rank upon rank of gladioli. The miraculous virgen did have a special aura about her and I was glad to have found the sanctuary and to pray for my continuing travels.

I haven't actually spent a great deal of time exploring the town as I have taken trips to the Islands of the Sun and the Moon. My day trip to the Isla del Sol was strange in that I somehow missed the main sights in the North of the island. I was given a vague wave in the general direction of.... and found myself on a ridge looking over agricultural terraces and the lake. It was a quiet and tranquil spot to sit and once I'd given up the 'must see this, do that and get the Tee shirt' stuff I had a lovely morning crowned by the appearance of a Sundog at around lunch time. It's an amazing phenomenon, a ring of rainbow around the sun. This one lasted for a good half hour and I was amazed to find I could get a photo.

The trip included a quick visit to the South part of the island and there I did do the tourist stuff -- hiked up the incredibly steep Inca Steps to the Fountain of the Incas, a natural spring which is channelled through three openings. Tradition has it that it is a fountain of youth, so of course I drank! We finished the trip with a visit to the Floating Islands which are not really that interesting being a construction for tourists and a bit like a theme park.

Next day, I went to the Isla de la Luna. I had to hire a boat as though the trips advertise 'Sol and Luna' they don't actually go to the smaller island. So, for the price of an osteopathic treatment in London, I had a boat for the day. It was an entirely different experience from the previous day's trip. The lake was tranquil and we chugged across to a small pueblo on the mainland where I had a change of captain for the crossing to the Island. My original captain got off to work on his trout farm and neglected to tell the new one that I was not going for the usual quick one hour stop. Though there was a clearly visible pueblo as we approached, we actually went around to the far side of the island where the ruins of an Inca House of theVirgins of the Sun lie. The ruins really are ruinous and only one big facade is intact or possibly rebuilt. I had the place completely to myself and was able to sit, ponder, wander at will. Obviously people still pray here -- there were offerings in one of the little niches and a firepit had been filled with red blossoms. For me, one of the most magical things was the sudden huge sound and then appearance of wrens.There were several, reddish brown and noisy as wrens are. I had an escort for a while of wrens flying, appearing and disappearing in the fallen masonry and sometimes just hopping beside me. They also alerted me to a kestrel sweeping the skies above. Utter magic.

Leaving the site, I was waylaid by a group of women and girls wanting to sell me their souvenirs. I hadn't expected to spend a great deal and the souvenirs were more expensive than on the Isla del Sol, but they don't get so many opportunities here. So I emptied my purse and divided the money between the families. People had told me that Bolivia was far cheaper than Peru but so far I've not found this to be true and exchange rates are definitely not in my favour.

Don Americo had told me that apart from the energy of this island, the other thing was the stones. Along the shore of the lake were stones of many colours and patterns, all fascinating. It was hot and I walked the shore with shade breaks under eucalyptus trees. Ducks and the occasional coot swam on the lake and loads of blackheaded gulls perched on rocks along the shoreline. I gathered stones and made a sort of collage on a big flat rock and left that as my offering to the Moon, the spirit of the lake and to the wonderful Universe.

So now, blessed by both 'camps' I'm off again into the energy of Big City and wondering what adventures lie there.

Blood and Coca

I´ve just been reading on the BBC website about the renaissance of the Shining Path rebels in the area of the Apurimac River. On our travels there, Americo told me that the area had always been one for resistance or terrorism since Inca times when the local people held out against Inca domination. The trend persists and is commemorated in a popular song which begs the River for a safe crossing in order to get away from those seeking to kill the singer. Luckily for us, our journey was tranquil and we were able to admire the wonderful scenery and the strength of the river without fear. Our only attackers were the mosquitoes which drew plenty of my blood and left me itching for days. One bite was particularly bothersome and the swelling so bad that Americo drew on his knowledge of medicinal plants to provide healing. I´m not sure what the plant was, but he mashed it in lemon juice applied it and bandaged my hand with loo roll! In 2 days all was fine.

There are 3 things to carry always -- loo roll, a flashlight and a knife. The latter was something I did not have but once back in Cusco, I came across a man in the street near San Francisco with an array of knives for sale. There were viscious looking flick knives, knives shaped like guns and a Swiss Army Knife which I bought for 18 soles. It´s got a good blade for peeling fruit and the corkscrew already came in handy to open a bottle of wine at my cleansing ceremony with the Qéro.

The Rio Apurimac was running fast and carrying so much earth that it was a deep rich reddish colour. W stayed overnight in a pretty basic Hospedaje and were up at 6am next day to drive down a steep dirt road to the thermal baths at Cconoc, hoping to avoid too many mozzies by bathing before the sun got over the mountain top. We had a wonderful drive down to the pools all the way sending up flocks of green parrots. The setting is fantastic, alongside the fast flowing river and surrounded by serried ranks of mountainpeaks behind which lie the Inca cities of Choquequirao and MacchuPicchu. The medicinal waters are absolutely crystal clear and only luke warm. Apparently they used to be hotter and it´s a mystery why they have lost heat. We immersed for about an hour and left as the sun and mosquitoes arrived. Later we bought fresh tropical fruits from wayside stalls and breakfasted ´like parrots´.

During my travels I´ve had 2 readings of the coca leaves. In October I was sick on the day Miguelito did readings for the group at Salka Wasi but this time all was well and he read for me. I also had a reading from Pasqualito as part of my cleansing ceremony. Re-assuringly, both readings were very similar -- my luck is good, my path clear and I will definitely be coming back to Peru. Both readings had the possibility of bringing another group. In both there was a warning that I tend to want things too quickly, to try and push the river, and this speedy energy is not good for me. Be tranquil and allow all things to develop in their own good time. Now, how many times have I heard this and not taken it on board?!! From Pasqualito came reassurance that my onward journey to Bolivia would be good and though he saw some fear in me, the ceremony would remove it. In fact, since the cleansing everything has opened up and I was able to take the decision to go next Tuesday. As Americo says, once you are strong and decisive the Universe supports you. Like magic, I had emails from a hotel in Copacabana confirming a room there and news from Diana in La Paz saying she would meet me and help with accommodation. All feels good and I´m ready for the next adventure.

Fiestas & Chicha

During my travels with Don Americo there was time to renew connections with old places and faces and to develop new ones. From Molino, Americo´s house near Paucartambo, we drove out towards the Manu Reserve, but took the lower road and came to Aguabamba, a place where 2 different mountains meet and create a vortex of energy. The mountains are full of cascading waters and of thick vegetation which still shelters pumas, though we didn´t see any. The flowers tended to the exotic and we were incredibly lucky to have clear blue skies and warm sunshine.

We met with an old woman, a friend of Americo´s, who lives in a shambling house with livestock in and around it. This Woman of the Vortex allowed us to take the track through her land down to the river some way below. Her fields were full -- corn, beans, almond trees and the inevitable papas (potatoes) with flowers of many colours. On the return journey we stopped to drink a cool beer in a sleepy little square with only the sound of plastic bunting flapping in the wind to disturb it´s dreams.

We spent a few says in Calca in the beautiful Sacred Valley a place which always expands my heart. I just love the mountains and the rich agricultural lands and the general pace of life. Calca itself can be a surprise. It´s very easy to miss it en route for the bigger tourist attractions of the Valley but behind the main road lies a sizeable town with 2 lovely squares, a large church and all amenities including a big and busy market. Whilst in Calca, we were invited to 2 fiestas -- a Graduation celebration and a birthday party. At these, I got my first taste of Chicha, an alcoholic drink made from corn and berries. I also managed to avoid eating cuy (guinea pig).

The fiestas both followed a similar pattern, first the family gathering with chicha served in large glasses. It´s a strange brew, a sort of cloudy reddish pink with a brown ´head´and a slightly sour taste. Definitely an aquired taste but a lot of it goes down with the locals! Next absolutely huge plates of food -- potatoes, stuffed hot peppers and cuy (in my case big chunks of chicken) At the graduation party I suspect I was eating a chicken that had recently been running around the house and yard with it´s own family. Assorted children ran about, and dogs vyed for scraps. After the food -- serious drinking!! Beer, wine, chicha and some sort of clear corn alcohol went the rounds in no particular order and all at the same time. Chicha tends to be served in individual glasses but for the other drinks there may be only 3 or 4 glasses between all the assembly and so the alcohol is quickly drunk and the glass passed on. Luckily as a foreigner, at both parties I was able to claim that I wasn´t used to alcohol and felt rather tired!

After so much meat, I volunteered to cook one evening and opted for a veggie meal. In the market I bought some wonderful fresh fruit and vegetables, including the one thing Americo will not eat -- broccoli! Luckily he discovered in time and I was able to exchange it for spinach -- a pity, the broccoli had looked wonderful. A good supper with bread straight from the ovens and a glass of vino tinto -- perfect!

Curious Cusco & Mountain vistas

Back in Cusco after 10 days of travel with Don Americo Yabar. A curious city and an ever changing one. This morning there was a group of riot police in full gear -- shields, helmets, guns - the lot, but lounging at ease against the wall of the big church, La Compañia, in the main Plaza and most of them chatting on mobile phones! Everyone seems to have a mobile here, even me, and most people carry 2 different ones because the networks are very different from Europe and the cheapest options are for calls to and from one network only.

Travelling with Americo has been good and despite the fact that it is rainy season, we have done well for weather. Apparently the mountains have had a lot less snow this year following on from less the year before and some of the pueblos are feeling a shortage of water.

The roads vary a lot from well tarmac´d ones to those with great holes and cracks and those which are merely small dirt tracks. The road towards Paucartambo, our first port of call, is being widened and asphalted to create a better link between the jungle of the Manu and Cusco. There had been quite a lot of rain and near Huancarani, the biggest town on the route, the churned up mud and water created a skid pan. Thank goodness we met no other vehicles because the car was sliding all over the place! Luckily Americo has extremely fast reflexes and a wide perceptual field. Later we met a truck coming at such speed it forced us off the road and into a ditch where we stuckwith no purchase on the mud to drive out again and the exhaust all but embedded. Another passing truck was kinder and 3 men lifted the back of the car whilst Americo drove forward and out. Again we were lucky that it was only a ditch and not the abyss! The road zigzags so high above the canyon below that at some times it seemed as if the car was flying over the landscape.

Our travels have had three phases: through the mountains of Paucartambo, the Sacred Valley and it´s great Guardian Apu´s and the road to Apurimac which passes the Sacred Mountain of Salkantay towards Limatambo and then dives down through tremendous zigzags to a tropical valley with great mountains similar to those of Macchu Picchu. In fact the great Inca City lies behind the mountains of Apurimac and the citadel of Choquequirao. It´s a busy road as it´s the main route from Lima. Apurimac translates as ´the God who speaks´and probably refers to the sound of the river -- Rio Apurimac, of which more later.

On all the journeys at each turn of the road it seemed like turning the pages of a enormous picture book for an ever changing vista and an ever changing sense of energies and power. The land and the mountains have a huge impact and despite the fact that I´m not the most sensitive of people, I really feel it in my physical body and in my energetic centres/chakras. Now having had a cleansing ceremony from some of the Qéro people and a little time to rest and integrate, I´m ready to move on into the next chapter of my travels. Into Bolivia!

All the World´s a Stage

Coming back to Cusco is a bit like returning to see a well known play, the setting is the same and so are the main characters, but some of the cast has changed and the crowd scenes are played by ever changing troupes of travelling players that always contain the same stock characters. There are serious Hikers with sturdy boots, walking poles and large rucksacks. ´Lads´in Bermuda shorts and Heavy Metal Band T shirts, people who look as if they never stopped travelling since the Hippie Trail, or Glastonbury Festival. It´s a wonderful show.

I watch from a window seat of my favourite coffee shop. Life unfolds around me. Sitting propped against a pillar nearby a woman is knitting something on 4 needles. It has a complicated pattern and she knits tirelessly without seeming to glance at her work as it slowly lengthens, round by round. Propped against the church wall a very old man in ragged poncho plays the flute and hopes for the odd coin. His wife sits beside him and the grandchildren they are watching run and play around them. People come and go on the benches opposite -- a man sits to read a newspaper, a girl waits for her boyfriend, a woman stops to tidy her daughter´s hair -- and so it goes on and I am surprised at how much time I have spent simply watching the show.

In Cusco

The last time I flew to the States, Virgin was a budget airline (bring your own sandwiches) and immigration was slowish and courteous. Now, Virgin Atlantic is a major carrier and immigration is tedious and confusing, staff are rude and you have to be fingerprinted and digitally photographed -- even for transit!

It´s true that the sight of the crew arriving, the women all in red, is a head turning sight but forget the advert -- no red killer heels and, sadly, no dashing pilot -- they were all models. Still, the flight was comfortable and as it was not full I had 2 window seats to myself and was able to spare my immediate neighbours the effects of my streaming cold. No doubt the viruses got recycled anyway. I managed pretty well on that leg of the journey but the transfer in Miami and the overnight flight to Lima were not good. My connection to Cusco was re-scheduled so that by the time I finally reached my hotel I was feeling very, very sorry for myself!

Lack of sleep, altitude and a heavy cold are not a good combination! I´ve been pretty well out of it since arrival but now begin to feel human again and able to cope with the prospect of a walk down Avenida El Sol.

It´s fairly cold and yesterday the weather turned with thunder and lightning and heavy rain and hail. Today is grey and heavy and I hope that this will pass quite quickly. There are still tourists wandering about in sleeveless tops so maybe it´s this nesh Londoner that´s out of step.

So here I am and the adventure is about to really begin!

getting ready to leave

I can hardly believe that I'm going back to Peru so soon! It has been six weeks since I returned and I have barely unpacked before making lists etc to pack and travel again. This time I will be working with Don Americo Yabar for a short time and then following up on people and opportunities that arose on the last trip. I have no set plans, which is both exciting and scary.

In March, I'll be returning to Lima for a few days with my friend, Logaine, and then going on again to join the Mayalands pilgrimage led by Aluna Joy  It promises to be an exciting trip and I hope you'll check in and find out how it's going. 

Pictures from my last trip are posted on the website - click here.