Some of the Joys of Travelings

The main benefit of traveling solo is the ease at which you can meet people. The biggest pain of traveling solo is actually traveling. Generally speaking, no one, on a long bus ride, wants to have a conversation, especially not me. This leaves for a lot of alone time missing the place you just left and anxiously awaiting the adventures of the next. But, anxiously awaiting the next adventure requires an answer to the question: Where is the next adventure?

The problem with having no set plans is the difficulty in making decisions. My only goal for this trip was to head north. But, when you meet a group of cool people who are going south, that one, very simple plan can go out the window quite seamlessly. My California friends, who I joined at Machu Picchu, were headed south to Lake Titicaca and Bolivia. Looking back, the only reason that kept me from entering the otherwise extremely affordable country was their $135 entrance tax. That and it was in the opposite direction of my intended path. But, the decision was made: continue north as per design.

So, I booked a 21 hour bus from Cuzco to Lima. Upon saying my goodbyes in Cuzco, a wave of anxiety rushed over me. It is an anxiety completely unique to traveling, one that I have only felt maybe once or twice before. It is a feeling of uneasiness saying, “Why the hell are you leaving?” I have learned that it takes a special place to warrant this feeling. But, with a bus ticket in hand and new adventures on the horizon, I push past the angst and voyage on.

And 21 hours in a bus is definitely a voyage. Normally very nice buses, that are typically too cold for comfort (a lesson learned on my bus to Cuzco), I don a down jacket and long pants. But, these preparations never became necessary as the bus’s air conditioning turned out to be broken. So, with no method of air circulation, the bus quickly transforms into a sauna. The heat is not extreme, just extremely uncomfortable: a constant, slow, sweat. With no water to replenish my system, I eventually stop sweating (the human body definitely cannot hold enough liquid for a 21 hour sweat session). I’m making this journey out to be worse than it actually was, but instead of pushing on through Lima to my next destination, I take a night to recuperate and rinse off the stench.

Also in my stop to Lima, I come to find out a good friend from university swapped places with me. She left Lima for Cuzco the same morning I arrived in Lima, further adding to my departure anxiety. We haven’t seen each other since graduation and this marks the second continent that we have failed to meet up while traveling. Maybe with some planning and better communication, we can make it happen on the next continent, Sarah. 

Exploring IncaLand - Machu Picchu

I jumped in on a group of friends from California on their trip to Aguas Calientes and Machu Picchu. We struggled through 2 full rainy days in Aguas Calientes – the closest town to Machu Picchu with a full touristy atmosphere, inflated prices, a shitty market of manufactured souvenirs, and a absolutely badass river (tried to upload a video with no success, my apologies).

While Sacsaywaman was my first peek at the works of Ancient Incan cultures of Peru, it was nothing like what I was about to see in the week to come. Everyone has heard of Machu Picchu – one of the most well-known archaeological sites in the world, second maybe only to the pyramids in Egypt. And everyone has seen the stock picture from the ‘Caregiver’s Hut’:

But unless you have actually found yourself sitting in front of any one of the temples, it’s difficult to grasp the truly incredible nature of the place. First, the location of this ancient city/place of worship is situated atop seemingly impossible peaks. I can understand why the Incans would build a city at the top of these peaks: because it is a downright beautiful sight. But, how they managed it is a completely other story. The peaks are so steep that you can almost see the Rio Urubamba on both sides of you. We hiked Wayna Picchu (the peak standing just behind the ruins in all pictures). If the slopes on which Machu Picchu was built weren’t steep enough, the Incans had to build Wayna Picchu on slopes even steeper. The path up is basically stairs, that most of the time necessitates using a rope to pull yourself up. The site is truly an engineering marvel and it is not a bad view either.

Granted I am no expert, but the stonework is unbelievable. Every angle of every stone is matched with precision that is overwhelming. Supposedly the site is seventy percent original work with the other thirty being the modern day mason’s attempt to duplicate the work of ancient Incan stonemasons.

We spent nearly the entire day at Machu Picchu. The early morning was spent climbing Wanya Picchu, ate some lunch and did some more exploring., before walking home. After we descended Wayna Picchu and with some extremely fortunate luck, the sun came out from behind the clouds.

We were told you were not allowed to bring bottled water so I had a liter of water for an entire day of hiking around at 7,000 ft. By mid-afternoon I was definitely parched. And after realizing that I was salivating of the sight of a puddle, that I had better find some water. So, luckily the Incans had a solid water distribution system that afforded me with a source of clear rainwater straight into my Nalgene. I was happy to drink some sacred water from ancient Incan stones (sterilized of course by my magic, modern day UV light wand).

There are two ways to get to Machu Picchu from Aguas Calientes: walk or take a bus. We chose to take the bus up to Machu Picchu and hike down in the afternoon. In my opinion, it’s the best way to do it. Everyone we saw who had hiked up, looked like they were on an Auschwitz death march with their heads down, faces with a scowl, and soaked in sweat or rain. Not one of them looked happy or approachable. It took us until the hike down to realize why everyone looked like this. The walk is about 8 km of switchbacks by road. But, stairs have been built to eliminate the switchbacks. So, after countless steps, basically straight up a mountainside, these people had to of been drained. I was glad to have only walked down instead of up. 

All in all, I would call it a very mystic experience.

Arequipa y Cuzco

One of the benefits of traveling alone is that when make stupid decisions and you are the only one it affects. For example, I decided to go to Arequipa in the south of Peru. My plan was to hike either in nearby Canon del Colca or the 19000 ft El Misit volcano. I only allotted myself a couple days in Arequipa as part of a grander, even more disorganized plan. And upon arriving in Peru’s second largest city, 2 days was not enough. Canon del Colca is not actually that close to Arequipa. And to hike the 19,000 ft volcano, you either need to the time to organize a group to do it yourself or pay for a guide. I surely would not be found paying for a guide of something I knew I could do on my own. There was also the fact that I came straight from sea level in order to hike a volcano where altitude sickness would have played a serious role. After it started to rain, I knew I would be moving on. But to where? I had been advised that Puno, a smaller city located on the banks of Lake Titicaca (the highest navigable lake in the world and home to some really cool cultures). But, again, I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice, so I decided to just head straight for Cuzco and give myself plenty of time there.

So, after 24 hours of hanging out in Arequipa, a quick meal, a nap, and a few skype sessions, I headed right back to the bus station. After waiting 5 hours at the bus station for the bus to leave (again a solid decision to not look up bus schedules), the bus company had somehow overbooked the bus, so I volunteered to take the next bus an hour later. And was it ever a good choice. The next bus was well under booked, including a seat on the bottom, ‘upper-class’ level. The seats were what you might find in the first class of an airplane. Only downside is that the bus ride was cold and of course I am in flip flops and basketball shorts. Plus, the blankets provided might have covered the legs of a 12 year old Earl Boykins. I arrived to Cuzco to a tempest of rain that, at nearly 10,000 ft, had me shivering by the time I walked from the center of town to the hostel.

Loki Hostel is a converted mansion with a staff of hired hostellers serving up drinks at the bar. With high expectations due to a very sound recommendation from a dear friend, I am nothing but impressed by the hostel. There is a fairly good mix of nationalities. I was able to impress a German girl with my few German words, most notably, Shmarotzer, please excuse the spelling. Of course the topic of United States gun laws came up when I was chatting with a Canadian. As with the general population of non-United States citizens, he clearly thinks the ‘wild-west’ of American gun policy is quite irrational and absurd. He was happy to hear that at least one American agrees with this consensus.

Cuzco is a medium sized city strewn about the hills of the ‘Sacred Valley.’ I think the total number of modern buildings rings in at around 3 or 4. The rest are massive mansions converted to little shops or hotels, churches, and palaces. The cobblestone streets of this amazing city are truly mesmerizing. And the views from the hill where the ruins of Sacsaywaman are located are no less stunning. The price to ‘see’ the ruins was too much for me, be the fact that you can ‘see’ the ruins from the walk up was enough for me. It was my first real glance at Incan history. For some reason it takes these massive stone walls to set the imagination free, to pretend you were living at the time they were made.

I fell in love with Cuzco when I visited the market. There was just about anything you could ever think of. I bought some delicious Andino cheese, an avocado (purchased at the correct price of .50 centimos, or about 20 US cents), and some almonds. There was everything from toothpaste to cow heads to spices to jeans to flowers to pig legs.

The nightlife in Cuzco is not what you would expect from a mountain town at 10,000 ft. Every night is a party, especially at the hostel I am staying. And it seems as well that every night there is a party in town at one of the clubs as well. Hence, it was a great place to celebrate a birthday. I ended up spending the morning after my birthday talking with some Peruvians as we hadn’t slept all night. The next night was filled with face paint and more late-night partying. Meeting people is one thing. But when you spend a couple nights engaging in outrageous amounts of drinking and dancing with people, you become friends. And when you are traveling, no one thinks the worse of you. Except maybe my mother! Soon, I think, I will find the courage to flee the party life and go see some ancient ruins. There is a time and place for everything.  

Lima, Peru

My first comment on Lima is that they speak Spanish here. I don’t speak Spanish, but I used to. Since arriving in Lima, I have been reading books, magazines, and newspapers in Spanish. I have been listening to Spanish music. I force myself speak in Spanish as much as possible. I even write my journal in Spanish. And I think it is finally paying off. Practice makes perfect? Not yet, in my experiences, that is for sure. However, practice has, at least, produced some effect. My Spanish after my fourth full day has improved significantly. This is not to say that I am anywhere near fully conversing with locals. But, in the middle of an English conversation, I found myself spurt something out in Spanish. I was thinking in Spanish again. It was a relief to sense some kind of progress. Despite the progress, overcoming my hearing impairment is one obstacle I’ve yet to figure out. It is difficult to understand people when you can’t hear everything they say. And it doesn’t help that it appears to me that Peruvians do this type of mumble/slur as they speak making my life much more difficult.  Eventually, I will catch on and in the meantime, it’s all about practice.

Lima is one large city. In the four days I have been here, I have seen a lot. I have seen palaces, churches, museums, beaches, sat in on my first fashion design class, and pushed my way, ‘lineman-style,’ onto trains. But, after all that I have only seen 4 small districts of a city of probably 20-30 districts. Granted some of these other districts are advisable not to visit. The food is wonderful and I have only experienced a small bit of that as well. If you like ceviche, Lima is a must!

On the flight down, I met a girl from Portland, Karina, and we decided to split the taxi (we still got ripped off). The next day we had our first experience with locals as we met 3 guys from Lima while eating lunch. They then skipped work and led us throughout Lima, showing us the sights (one of the benefits of traveling with a girl). The main macho was constantly courting Karina. He would walk so close that she would veer off trying to get away. When she was scraping her shoulders on the wall to the one side, she would stop, scoot to his other side, and then they would continue on veering to the other side. I watched, laughing, as they walked down the street, zigzagging back and forth along the walkways. On the second day, we went surfing with them. But, they wanted us to pay for their surfboards. And I am not one for handouts. Plus, the surf sucked. So, I just sat on the beach and watched. One of the guys is completely addicted to huffing aerosols. He carried plastic bags of spray paint with him everywhere he went. The most peculiar of all places was the surf. He granted me the sight of watching him surf with an inflated plastic bag in his hand. Not to stereotype, but their machismo nature soon prevailed and they their creepiness became overwhelming. I soon decided I was done hanging out with them.

I am staying with a couch-surfer, Genaro, (found on a website for travelers looking to meet other likeminded people and a free place to crash). He is a pretty established individual in the fashion design world. I sat in on introduction to fashion design class he teaches. It was quite interesting and totally out of my realm of experience (I shop almost exclusively at Goodwill’s and Vinny’s). Again, not trying to stereotype, but he lives up to his as well: superbly unorganized, constantly late, unceasingly on the phone gossiping, has only girl friends, and is uninterested in those girls sexually. His tardy and disorganized ways make coordinating difficult, but it is all part of the fun. All in all, he is a great host for my first couch surfing experience. I will be in Lima until Saturday because Genaro wants me to go out with him on for the weekend. After a week and a few nights out in Lima, I will be fully over this big city.

A Fresh Start

While this title is fitting in many ways, it is completely opposite in just as many. I am embarking on a journey which, for me, is unchartered and I am doing it solo. But, to claim this is a start, a beginning is somewhat of a misnomer. For I have been on the move since December 28, 2011. I spent about 2 months in the states, but was constantly on the move between Seattle, Idaho, Phoenix, and Flagstaff, never spending more than a few weeks in any one spot. It feels, however, like a fresh start as I have been in Lima, Peru, a continent I have never ventured to before.

I understand that I left out about 8 months of my life by starting up from the present. I was picking citrus for 4, getting my noodle on in Asia for 2.5, and I do not intend to tell the whole story of those adventures or lack thereof. But, I do plan to post various tidbits of thoughts, experiences, and explanations as I see fit, while maintaining to keep a fairly updated blog on my current expedition. This is my plan, at least for now.

I have no expectations for this trip. Just one goal: travel for as long as I can. With limited funds, I am basically experimenting with how much fun I can, sights I can, and people I can meet before the stream of funds run dry. It should be interesting, to say the least.