The Road Less Traveled

Ramiro didn’t tell me I had to be at breakfast at a set time, so I wandered downstairs around 9:00. I met a healing arts man and two anthropologists. After breakfast I went back upstairs and sat on the balcony soaking up the sun (foolishly without sunblock) writing postcards. Suddenly, I heard marching band music. I knew there was a holiday coming up—Fiestas Patrias, the Peruvian equivalent of Fourth of July, a two-day celebration of the liberation of Peru from Spain by Simon Bolivar and San Martin. That wasn’t supposed to start until the 28th, though. It seems they were celebrating early. Perhaps since the 28th and 29th were on a Saturday and Sunday this year, they were taking Friday as a day off to celebrate. Edgar, one of the two servants at the guesthouse, had mentioned that there would be a parade at 11:00 am. But it was only 10:30.

After I finished my postcards, I walked out of the guesthouse and a block down the street towards the sound of the music. It was coming from a school with children in uniform standing outside.

Not seeing anything of note, I walked back up the “Street of Heroes” lined with statues of military heroes, then cut over to El Sol and walked towards Plaza de Las Armas. Parade spectators were already lining the sidewalks of El Sol. Military groups were lining up. Hawkers were selling red and white ribbons representing the colors of the Peruvian flag.

When I made it to the main square, I saw a sight I’ll never forget. There was a sea of people and music and military groups. There was a palpable energy in the air as the crowds started getting ready for the parade. I saw few military groups march into the sea of people.

For reasons I’m not sure of now, I turned away from the parade. Maybe I was tired or it seemed like the action had stopped. I ended up walking to a plazoleta (little plaza) where the culinary school of Cuzco was having a tasting. For 3 soles a dish, you could sample generous portions of gourmet food—lamb, seafood, drinks, and more. For some reason, I was drawn to the simple but delicious causa cusqueno. Causa looks like a layered sheet cake, but it’s savory. It’s made with a layer of mashed yellow potatoes topped with a layer of chicken and mayonnaise, then another layer of mashed yellow potatoes, and spices. It was served with a side of onions and a red pepper sauce. It was delicious. I wanted to try more, but I was still a bit full from breakfast and didn’t want to press my luck.

I wandered the streets of Cuzco, occasionally seeing more groups of soldiers marching down the street yelling their squad drill chants. I was surprised to see a section of Cusco with hotels and restaurants bearing signs in English and Hebrew. Was there a Jewish population in Cusco? Or merely an attempt to cater to Peruvian visitors from Israel? I would have to ask my relatives when I got back to the States.

I came back to the guesthouse in the afternoon and took a nap. Then I went out again to try to walk to San Blas. I got so turned around, though, I ended up at the train station. The man pushing a cart of keys (a locksmith, perhaps) who gave me directions and then kept trying to get a conversation going wasn’t much help.

I finally walked two blocks away from the train station (so I wouldn’t get a taxi at a train station price) and hailed a 3-soles taxi to San Blas. I chose to eat at Pachipapa, a tourist restaurant on the square. I went through a door to get in, but ended up in an open-air courtyard with dark-stained wooden tables, heaters, and a stone hearth woodburning oven. I couldn’t bring myself to eat guinea pig, and not just because of thoughts of the several guinea pigs my cousins had for pets. Instead, I opted for the whole grilled trout. It was delicious, and worth the 25 soles. I also got brave and had a glass of chardonnay with it.

For dessert, I ordered a dish that I thought would be made from the orange-cream colored yogurt concoction that is served at breakfast in Peru and which I had in ice-cream form in Rumichaca. However, I had confused the name. What I got was more like rice pudding, but the rice was the consistency of couscous. Only the slight cinnamon taste made it palatable for me.

I stayed a few extra minutes soaking up the atmosphere of the restaurant. Then I walked down the hill to the Plaza de las Armas and saw a concert by a group of students from a local high school. I presume it was part of Fiestas Patrias as well. I soaked up this last bit of Peruvian culture, and went back to my hotel room to sleep.

Kitty left before dawn—after all, some people have to work for a living. 😉

I went downstairs for a nice large breakfast which included half a cup of fine coffee and juice but no water (by my own foolish choice). I had thought Rani would be taking me on my tour of Cuzco but Ana Maria showed up instead.

We left a little after 9 am. We walked a block to Avenida del Sol and turned left. I saw a mural with the history of Cuzco from Pre-Columbian times to the Incas, then the Spanish Invasion and finally independence in the 1800s.

Next we went to the Cathedral of Santo Domingo, which was built on top of the Inca Templo del Sol. The site is also called Qorikancha. I saw stone towers similar to the towers of Machu Picchu with a red-brick church above it. The bell tower had elaborate wooden carvings. The large brown wooden doors had nails covered with metal knobs formed in the shapes of animals.

Ana Maria explained these and other sights along the way. She pointed out the religious paintings done in the Cuzco art style, and the cloisters with Inca temple stone walls on the sides. We saw temple walls and replicas with examples of gold and idols that would have been inside. She explained the Inca double entry and the 14-angled rock. The saddest Inca wall was the one that was destroyed by the Spanish to make room for their walkways. There were ancient musical instruments, and an Inca skull (probably a replica) to show how the Inca royalty had forced their children’s heads to grow high and narrow so that people would know they were royalty.

The Libertador and the First Wave of Altitude Sickness

After the tour of Qorikancha, we walked down the steps and into the nearby Hotel Libertador so I could get money from their ATM. Ana Maria got a call from her daughter in Switzerland at the moment. It turned out it was Ana Maria’s birthday. She didn’t mind working though. I certainly didn’t want to begrudge her the time to talk to her daughter. Perhaps more importantly, I need the time to rest. Walking down the steps of the church, my legs had felt a strange kind of weakness, like they didn’t have enough energy to move. Sitting down, I started to feel a headache and nausea. I took coca candy, pain pills and even Dramamine, which is really for motion sickness but my dad once said it is good for any kind of nausea.

By the time Ana Maria got off the phone and we’d had a chance to chat about her daughter and men and children in general, I felt better. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to feel that way again. I remembered Kitty’s advice to me about drinking lots of water, so I stopped at a convenience store to buy a 2.5 liter bottle of water. Ana Maria bought some crackers and offered me some. Surprisingly, those also made me feel better. I was told later that for some reason, sodium helps the body fight altitude sickness. That might explain why Peruvian food often tastes saltier than usual.

Ruins, Plazas, and Lunch

It was starting to get cold and the bottle of water was heavy, so I stopped to buy alpaca gloves and a water bottle carrier for large bottles. We walked down streets with more Inca ruins and a 12-sided stone surrounded by tourists with cameras. I’d already seen a 14-sided one so I wasn’t impressed. We walked up the hill towards Plaza and Iglesia San Blas, stopping halfway up so I could catch my breath. We also sat for a while near the plaza’s large water fountain.

After San Blas, we walked down the street known as “Seven Serpents” towards the famous hotel Monasterio. Even though the street barely had an incline, I had to stop and rest halfway. We made it to Plaza Mayor, and had a menu (a set lunch) of cream of spinach soup, kingfish with potatoes, and coconut flan at a restaurant overlooking the plaza. It was included in my tour so I don’t know the price. I also had my first cup of coca tea with fresh leaves in it, which seemed to literally lift the pressure off my head. I also got to say hi and goodbye to Rani, who was sitting with the couple who had been sitting across from Kitty and me on the train to Ollantaytambo. I remember them vividly because Kitty and I overheard them talking with another couple about their climb up Wayanpicchu (crazy!) and the fact that they would be staying at the Hosteria in Rumichaca.

Second Wave of Altitude Sickness

When lunch ended, I was surprised that when I stood up, I felt worse than I had before lunch. I had been sitting and eating and resting—how could I feel worse? I learned later that part of the problem was that the restaurant was enclosed. Spaces with open air have more fresh oxygen. Also, you are supposed to eat light when you are adjusting to altitude sickness. Maybe if you eat, all the blood rushes from your head to your stomach and makes it harder to get oxygen in there. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I left the restaurant anyway with Ana Maria and walked with her to the second cathedral on our tour. I had to sit down while she went in and bought the tickets. We walked into the cathedral and went to the newest part. We walked past about four pews, and then I HAD to sit down. I was afraid if I didn’t I would pass out. The headache was becoming like a vice around my head. My legs had no energy in them. It was like being attacked by Harry Potter’s Dementors without the accompanying depression.

Stubbornly, I got up again after a minute. I had paid too much for this tour not to take it or enjoy it. Ana Maria continued explaining while I struggled to pay attention. As we started to cross into the second part of the cathedral, I noticed an oxygen tank. Ana Maria looked at it too, and suggested that I sit down and take some oxygen.

A nurse came over to me and put the mask around my nose and mouth. She explained that in enclosed spaces with many people, the oxygen gets used up faster and people are more susceptible to altitude sickness. She also said that at night the air is cooler and the oxygen is lower to the ground. As it warms up during the day, the oxygen rises and is harder to get. That’s why I didn’t have altitude sickness the night before. I’m also starting to think the lack of insulation in the buildings in Cuzco and Rumichaca were a blessing. The walls’ porous nature may have made it easier to breathe in them.

Ana Maria asked the nurse if I should take Diamox. The nurse said it is a diuretic, so she didn’t recommend it. The best course of action is inhaling oxygen; the effects are felt quickly and there are no side effects. She also recommended drinking Gatorade and eating salty food to build up the body’s supply of salt. Finally, she recommended resting with my feet elevated on a pillow so that the blood would flow to the brain more easily.

I took off the oxygen mask when I saw the family from Lima that had been on our river rafting trip and whom we had run into several times in Machu Picchu. I didn’t want to be seen in such a sorry state. I chatted briefly with them, then Ana Maria and I finished the tour of the cathedral. Ana Maria then led me to a drug store to buy Sorochji pills. I had seen an ad for them, and Kitty said they worked pretty well (though she couldn’t take them because she was allergic). The timing was good—while we were inside buying the pills, we missed a short rainstorm (the only one on my trip).

Ana Maria also helped me find a store with Gatorade and crackers. At that point, I could not have functioned in these places without her. I had never been so grateful to have a private tour guide in my life.

We got back to the guesthouse. Ana Maria told Ramiro I had had altitude sickness, “but not too bad.” I could only wonder what “bad” would have felt like. Ramiro paid her, and I gave her a big hug. Then I went to my room for Gatorade, crackers, tea, Sorochji pills, and a nap.

Evening in Cuzco

When I woke up, I felt well enough to leave the house again. I walked to the post office and bought some postcards. I also checked my email for only 1 sol an hour. I continued up Avenida El Sol. I was approached by two women selling souvenirs. I started to look at one interesting one made of calabasa (gourd), when a police officer walked by wagging his finger at the women. I walked away, but one of the girls chased me down the street and explained he was only upset because the street vendors don’t pay taxes. It still seemed weird, but the girl was so persistent and we’d already started talking prices so like an idiot I felt compelled to buy that and a few other things from her to boot. After that, though, I started resisting street sellers much more firmly.

I walked around the Plaza but couldn’t find any place special to eat. A small pizzeria looked busy and inexpensive, so I went in. The pizza wasn’t that great, but it was only 5 dollars. I really wanted beer or wine with it, but I didn’t dare touch alcohol while I was still recovering from altitude sickness.

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