Sunday, July 22: Sacred Valley Day 1
Journey to Cuzco
The taxi picked us up at Kitty’s at 7:30 a.m. The driver had both windows rolled down. Kitty asked him to roll up the window on his side because her hair was still wet and it was chilly out. The driver did it, but said he had never rolled up his window completely before in his life. I could only imagine what his Ukrainian equivalents would say to that. In Ukraine, having a cross-breeze is considered literally the kiss of death.
We got to the Lima airport at 8:00 for our 9:00 flight. Just as Kitty had warned me, the airport was a zoo. The lines seemed to go on forever. We had gone to great lengths to check in online (taking a long walk to an internet café to print out my boarding passes the day before), and that still seemed like less hassle than waiting in that line. Fortunately, we found the shorter line for people with boarding passes.
We dropped off our bags, then went through the line to pay our airport departure taxes. Someone later said that the airports have a hard time collecting taxes from the airlines, so they collect it directly from the passenger. Lima airport charges $6.05 (about 20 soles) for domestic flights. We paid it, got our sticker, and went through to the gate.
Before we got on the plane, Kitty bought some coca candy. The candy is made from the coca plant, from which cocaine can be made. However, coca itself is not an illegal drug. It is merely an herbal remedy said to increase energy, aid digestion, and reduce the effects of altitude sickness. Cuzco is 11,000 feet high and the Sacred Valley is about 8000-9000 feet high, so reducing altitude sickness there was important.
When we arrived at Cuzco airport, our tour guide, Rani, was waiting for us. So was some warm sunshine, a pleasant and unexpected surprise considering it was winter and Lima is nearly always cloudy and cold.
We got in the car and drove off into the hills of the Sacred Valley while Kitty and I rubbed muna into our hands and sniffed it. Muna (pronounced moon-ya) is a minty herb which is also said to reduce altitude sickness. Kitty had bought it at a market on her last trip to Cuzco.
Llama and Alpaca Encounter
Our first stop was a place where we could see how llama and alpaca wool is woven into various materials. First, Rani talked about the different types of llamas and alpacas, their origins and relations to the camel family, and the varying qualities of their wool. Baby alpaca is among the best. Vicuna is the wildest and thus the most expensive.
Next, a little girl wearing traditional indigenous clothes (black felt hat, red coat, black embroidered skirt, and sandals) handed Kitty and me small bunches of alfafa to give to the animals. At first I felt sorry for this young girl having to work at such a young age, but later I saw her hug and stroke a llama’s neck and I knew she truly loved the animals and her job.
The llamas and alpacas walked up to us and started taking the branches directly from our hand. We were allowed to stroke the animals’ furry necks, too. It is now officially the best petting zoo I’ve ever been to in my life.
The Weavers
We were then shown the different herbs and insects that were crushed to make dyes for the llama and alpaca wool. We watched a man with a colorful knit hat spin the wool into thread. Along the path to the store there were a few artisans weaving the colored threads on a loom. Rani said that each Indian group has its own weaving pattern that they memorize and weave into their clothes. He added that it can take a month to weave one cloth.
Our last stop in this place was the store. I was planning to buy something even though I knew it would be a little more expensive, but the items there were well beyond my means. I left a tip at the exit for the last weaver because I took a picture, and we got back in the car.
Entrance into the Sacred Valley
We continued to drive into the hills until we reached an overlook with a good view of the Sacred Valley. The valley got that name because the land is very fertile. The minute we got out of the car, we were flanked by little children peddling souvenirs. Kitty said it reminded her of Egypt. I bought a trinket, then paid three children in traditional dress 50 Peruvian cents each to take a picture with me and Kitty.
The Market at Pisac
We arrived at the Pisac Market at 1:00 pm. The market is open three days a week, but Sunday is traditionally the best day. More stalls are open on Sunday, including stalls run by Indians who come into town from the villages. It is also possible on Sunday to go to the church at the market and see the Sunday mass in the Quechua language.
Rani led us along the cobblestoned streets to our first stop, a bakery. The huge, round, woodfire hearth oven dates back to colonial times. The cook was making empanadas, a kind of savory South American pastry. These small empanadas had a soft, buttery, doughy crust and were filled with cheese, tomato, basil, and oregano. They were only 2 soles each. They were so delicious, Kitty went back to the bakery to get two more at the end of our visit.
Rani then showed us the food section of the market. We saw many varieties of corn, potatoes, peppers, pumpkin, and more. Potatoes reportedly originate from Peru, and there are 600 varieties nationwide. Corn is the second most important staple; there are 400 varieties of corn.
We walked from the food section of the market to the church for a brief glimpse inside. Apparently, there had been a wedding earlier; many people in fine clothes were congratulating each other, and there were flowers everywhere.
Rani left us on our own for about an hour to shop the handicrafts portion of the market. 50 minutes of shopping has never passed so quickly. We barely saw a quarter of the market. On the other hand, I was grateful we didn’t have more time as I easily could have run out of money there. There were so many beautiful scarves, rugs, dolls, and bags of brightly colored woven or embroidered cloth. The prices were very reasonable too.
Hosteria Rumichaca
We reluctantly left the market chomping on our second round of empanadas and arrived at the Hosteria Rumichaca at 3:00. Rumichaca is a tiny town of 100 people just passed the larger Sacred Valley town of Urubamba. We were staying there because Kitty had a friend at the embassy who knew the owners. We also had been able to ask them arrange the taxis, the tours, and train tickets to Aguas Calientes to see Machu Picchu.
As we drove through the hamlet of Rumichaca with its plain stone walls, I started to have low expectations of the hosteria. Then we arrived at the hosteria gate and were buzzed in. I was pleasantly surprised to see a building of bright yellow, orange, blue and wood surrounded by a garden of flowers. Jose and Irene, the owners of the hosteria, were outside to greet us, as were 4 of their 5 lovely white dogs (Alaskan malamute/Saroyan mixes).
We walked inside and saw a living room decorated with numerous traditional rugs and wall hangings. Yet it didn’t feel over the top or kitschy. We went from there to the kitchen, where we were served a three course lunch by a young man wearing white gloves. Our first course was chicken soup which brought back memories of my great-grandmother’s chicken soup (may she rest in peace). The main course was lomo saltado (stir-fry tenderloin) with potatoes and rice. Dessert was quince pie with an extremely flaky buttery crust and a cup of coca tea with chamomile.
The Ceramic Store
After stuffing our faces, Kitty, Rani, and I took a walk through the town of Rumichaca. The notable (and appreciated) sights were barley fields and bulls. Rani led us to a ceramics shop where a man named Henry explained how he made his pottery and chose designs either from a book of Inca symbols or his own imagination. He even demonstrated how his unique approach to pottery made his ceramics so tough, he could use it to hammer a nail into wood. If this guy could speak English, he could have his own infomercial in the States.
I felt I had to buy something of his to remember the experience. I really liked the terra cotta bowl with the white porcelain inside—it would have made a great popcorn bowl—but I thought it would be too big and heavy to bring back to the States. I settled instead for two mugs with a clear finish inside. Kitty was the big spender, buying a long mirror with a frame of wood and tiles of individual, brightly-painted symbols around it. It was too big to carry to the hosteria, let alone on an airplane. Henry arranged to have it wrapped and sent on a truck from Cuzco to Lima. Miraculously, it arrived as scheduled and in one piece.
Dinner at the Hosteria
We walked back to the Hosteria and took a nap before happy hour at 7:30. Actually, we got down to the living room at 7:45, so we didn’t get our complimentary pisco sour until dinner. Nevertheless, we enjoyed sitting by the fire and chatting with the other guests: two families from San Francisco, a family from Lima, and a couple from Germany. We spent a lot of time talking about the teacher’s strike in Cuzco. They were protesting a proposal by the government to require teachers to pass a proficiency exam in their subject. Their anger had led them to set fire to a field near the Cuzco airport, causing the whole airport to be closed for a day and seriously disrupting travel into Cuzco, the Sacred Valley, and Machu Picchu.
At 8:00, dinner was served—another delicious 3 course meal. After dinner and dessert, Jose led us outside to look at the stars. The moon was half full, so Jose said there weren’t as many stars as usual. But what was there was beautiful.
Tags: Peru, Sacred Valley, Travel
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