Life's a Stitch

We were coached to wear long pants and sleeves to Machu Picchu due to the biting insects,  whose name in the local native language translates to “the one that makes the puma cry.” As the temperature was predicted to be 34.5C (94f), a group member asked if shorts would be ok, we were assured with repellent we’d be fine. Slathered up with the picaridin lotion brought from home, I had an uh-oh moment observing we were the ONLY people wearing shorts on our train. That stuff is amazing, as afterwards we saw people in long pants with huge welts around their ankles, and others in shorts who had used the locally available spray, quite sick and uncomfortably covered in bites. I had one bite under my collar and one on my eyelid, both spots missed by bug cream.

Our small group was given a choice of the higher, more challenging route or the lower one. Gluttons for punishment (as my mother would say), we chose the former. I was grateful for our hiking poles. Two misunderstood facts from Machu Picchu: many older websites tell you no plastic water bottles are allowed, when in fact they are, as  long as you haul your plastic. And although there is a sign regarding hiking poles, if the sharp metal tips are covered and you need them for safety, off you go. 

From the lower level you can see the resident alpacas.

We boarded the train at sunset, tired and thankfully not itchy, after  a wonderful day. This was the original intention of the trip, for C to see Machu Picchu for his 70th birthday, delayed a few years by the pandemic.

The next day we transferred from the Sacred Valley to Cusco, a charming city with an elevation higher than Machu Picchu. Looking at my Fitbit stats you could clearly see the four nights we spent there.  My blood oxygen level was between 80 and 85%. 

A walking tour included the Convent de Santo Domingo and the Cusco Cathedral. C was hesitant to participate in another, as he calls it, ABC tour (another bloody castle, another bloody cathedral). He was happy to find it one of the best tours on the trip. 

The convent was built on top of an important Inca temple, and in the museum you could see the meticulously fitted stone walls that have withstood hundreds of years and were successfully designed to survive serious earthquakes.

The cathedral, built in cooperation with the local Quechua tribe features religious statues wearing native costumes, a Black Jesus and a painting of the Last Supper where Jesus and the apostles were feasting on the Peruvian delicacy, coy (guinea pig). Photos were not allowed in the cathedral, but this image was on the entry ticket.

We ended at the public market, the most impressive on our trip. There were rows upon rows of cheese, bread, flowers, meats, fish….household staples, surrounded by outer aisles of local handicrafts and clothing. 

We ended our stay in Cusco with dinner at Mr.Cuy, where they present their national dish in a manner more acceptable to tourists, served in neat pieces, without identifying parts. What does it taste like? Not chicken, which many things seem to taste like, this time my answer is duck.

C had stuffed peppers:

The next day we flew back to Lima. The rest of our group flew home that evening, but we had a bonus day as the organizers couldn’t find a reservation for us until the next day. It was nice to have a day to walk and wander on our own.