Peru: Spanish Intensive and Cultural Immersion

I awoke at 5:35, and lay in bed contemplating if this was indeed the correct day to begin my descent to Machu Picchu.  It was raining, and the mountain roads around Cuzco are notrious for landslides and crippling delays of what I have heard are up to 15 hours.  Alas, eventually  I gathered enough strength to fling the covers off me, and felt the biting chill of an Andean summer morning.

It was not so much raining anymore as I stepped outside, merely threatening mist and clouds that assured me, if they wanted to, could ruin my day.  I ran into Hermando shaving in a basin in the courtyard, and he wished me ¨Bueno suerte¨on my travels as I slipped out the door.

Upon arriving at the bus stop, I was immediately hassled by indepdent mini-van drivers to ride with them, and avoid going to the official bus stand for tickets, which were cheaper, but the trip an hour longer.  After a bit of investigation, I opted, despite my intuition, to take the faster mini-bus towards Machu Picchu.  I now partially regret that decision, as our driver continues to stand outside attempting to lure more people in to fill the remaining two seats, we may not leave until he does.  I was initially impressed with my driver´s neat sweater and well-coifed hairdo, though I should have gazed at his healthy paunch to realize that he was probably angling for his best fare and a guinea-pig dinner.

My initial buyers remorse evaporated once we hit the road.  All of Peru was passing by my window, really for the first time.  We traveled up the mountains and into the mist, along narrow mountain roads that had a steep drop off on one side.  I looked at my driver and realized, ¨A man wearing sweatpants is in control of my life right now.¨Visibility was low in the clouds, and it began to rain.  We passed a truck whose trailer had flipped, exposing its cargo of Coca-Cola, Fanta, and the infamous Inca Cola, a nuclear yellow, banana-flavored soda that is even too sweet for me.  Entire rivers spilled from the crests of mountains into the road, and our driver shifted into first gear before entering each torrential stream.  We made it safely, though I have seen hiking trails in better condition than some parts of the road today.

I am now in the small village of Santa Teresa, a six hour hike to the town nearest Machu Picchu.  Tomorrow is the hike, the day after is the tour of the ruins.  Ciao.

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