Cusco - the last days - 29th of October to 5th of November

Plaza de Armas - Cusco

Returning to Cusco after 7 weeks of travelling in the harshest country I have seen, both environmentally and socially, was how I imagine coming home will feel. As the bus rolled into the city we pointed out the familiar places, ‘Ohhh that’s where the kids library is… Maybe they could drop us off here and we could walk to WaaW… Remember when we ate there, that pollo milenasa was huge…’ Coming into the bus terminal and hearing the nasally calls of the ticket sellers and food vendors  brought back more flooding memories of our arrival in Cusco as well as heading out on short adventures and meeting friends returning from trips, sounds smells and feelings that we will never forget. It all sounds a little romantic and dramatic, but that’s exactly how it felt, even though it would only be for a little more than a week. Our bus trip took us 2 hours longer than expected, due to the dropping off and picking up passengers at some official, though mostly unofficial bus stops. So we arrived at 6:30pm, and had a date with our old friends at seven…. So we rushed to a little dingy hostel, had a quick freshen up and straight out the door to The Real McCoys, a British pub where we had spent many good times with friends. A place with comfort food, we ate there in our first week in Cusco when I was sick as a dog, I had the cheese toasties, a place where I won my first ever game of monopoly, a place where we knew the wait staff and they knew us, and nothing had changed. I guess we really hadn’t been away for that long, and I guess comparatively our time that we did live in Cusco was short, but the nostalgia that came with everything we did there on our return was overwhelming. Perhaps because we don’t know when we will return again to this city that had such a fierce impact on the way we see the world we wanted to take everything in and reinforce our memories. I’m not going to give a day by day account of what we did, because in all honesty I don’t remember exactly… it was a blur of eating and drinking, spending time with our beautiful friends Kelly and Ruben, as well as other old friends from Cusco, we visited a couple of museums, spent lots of time avoiding the sunglasses vendors in the plaza, and went back to FairServices for a Tuesday night cooking class. I celebrated my birthday with clothes shopping and plenty of cake! We were told in no uncertain terms by all our Spanish teachers that we will have to come back and visit when we have a Little Brenna and a Little James with us, but definitely no more than 2 niños or they will ruin our lives!

 

Our train to Machu Picchu.... it wasn't that small, they added more carriages!

 One of the main reasons for our return to Cusco was to visit one of the wonders of the world, Machu Picchu. Machu Picchu was everything it was supposed to be, and more. It was an amazing place to see through your own eyes, to imagine the hustle and bustle of a city and a culture that came to an abrupt end. I don’t think I have ever seen a more beautiful or stunning view than the view from above the city, that classic photo you see, it was surreal to see it for ourselves. To wake up in the morning to that would be spectacular! The morning brought with it some light rain, and around two thirds of the 2,500 daily visitors, including myself, were wearing brightly coloured plastic ponchos, which gave the city very a strange technicolour vibe. The sheer amount of visitors didn’t take away from the experience as much as it could have, though the entrance and first hour or so, as everyone was grouped together, was hectic. I do think the way tourism is run there is unsustainable, an ancient city that was built to house no more than 1000 people will not survive forever with the feet of 2,500 people trampling the walkways each day.

Our first view of Machu Picchu as the fog was clearing...

 The trip to Machu Picchu was not without its hiccups, though I won’t go into them now. For anyone going there by train I do advise you to do it all independently, we weren’t quite sure what to expect so went through an agency to book our train tickets, hostel and entry into the site and 2 hour tour, though it would have been much less frustrating to do it ourselves. But, such is life, and in the end we got what we came for, to see this amazing Incan city with our own eyes. (Scroll down for many more photos!

 Leaving Cusco was tough… not as tough as last time, having to say goodbye to the kids, but saying ‘hasta luego’ to Kelly and Ruben was a sad occasion, though I’ve no doubt we will see them again in the not too distant future, somewhere in this great world. Kelly gave me a beautiful silver necklace with 4 little lucky beans, one for each of us, which will always make me smile and think of us, “The Inca and his Gringos.” I admire Kelly and Ruben so much for their strength and determination and how hard they are working to make it possible for them to spend the rest of their lives together, and I have a new respect for relationships that cross international boarders, as despite the romance of falling in love in a foreign land the reality of it is really tough. Our last 24 hours in Cusco brought with it the usual adventures… and misadventures… of our little lives there. We had a nice morning with Kelly and Ruben, then took a bus tour of the city for one last look around. We were delighted and surprised to see two of our little men from WaaW, two boys who touched our hearts more than most, in the main plaza on their way home from school. We didn’t go and chat to them, we couldn’t bring ourselves say goodbye again, we just watched with a smile in our hearts and tears in our eyes as they had a brotherly wrestle and then went their separate ways… and we went ours.

A very fitting way to close that little chapter of our lives. (Scroll down to see more photos of our last days in Cusco too!)

The Inca and his Gringos! With our beautiful friends Kelly and Ruben.

This damage was sustained during a large earthquake in 1950, it was the
only damage caused to Machu Picchu though nearly half of the buildings
in nearby Cusco were damaged or destroyed!

James sharing a moment with his favourite manky jacket, which mysteriously
disappeared the same day. 

The stonework is just amazing, it is mind blowing to think how much work
went into creating not only the city, but also the surrounding terraces.

The temple of the sun

The city gate

Postcard view!

James with a little lizard he saved after I trampled on it... oops!

This may or may not be a little misadventure of ours!

Me with some bubbles that somehow appeared in the fountain in
the Plaza de Armas in Cusco!

Our last morning in Cusco

Our last day in the Plaza

Viva El Peru!!!

A storm brewing over Cusco on our last day... the weather matching my mood.

James going clucky over a 2 day old lamb...

Cristo Blanco, dominating the Cusco skyline and welcoming the storm.

The obligatory geeky photo with the 12 angled stone! Just one of the many
marvels of Incan architecture in Cusco.

Strength

“I thought she was a strong girl,” I heard my grandads newest lady friend say from their bedroom down the hall, after my sobbing had subsided enough for me to hear anything.

“She is strong,” grandad replied, “but she can be emotional too.”

Sometimes a memory is a seed that has been planted, lying dormant in the deepest part of the brain, until something awakens it. This memory has been replaying in my mind often over the last few weeks, and while it has always been vivid it has never had a whole lot of significance until now.

The last few weeks have been hard, there isn’t another way to say it, and it has made me ponder the meaning of strength… Is it showing strength to stay in a situation that you don’t want to be in? Is it strong to put on a brave face when all you want to do is curl in a ball and cry? Is strength keeping your worries and troubles inside, letting them eat you up, refusing to talk about them? Or is strength more about acceptance, rather than avoidance, more about working and learning than it is soley about making it away from that place in which you don’t want to be.

At the start of this year I never realised how much strength I would need for this journey. Stepping into the airplane, not looking back, holding back the tears as best I could, that was strong. Sleeping in a half demolished farm house in Argentina, being eaten alive by mosquitoes, that was strong, as was telling the truth the next day and getting ourselves out of that situation. Meeting amazing people and having to say goodbye is always a test of strength. A month ago when we were living without power, I thought maybe it was strong to have a cold shower without complaining. Two weeks ago perhaps I was showing strength when I smiled at our landlady while she was shouting at me for breaking the electricity or closing the door too loudly or something or other. Last week I tried so hard to be strong when I found out my beautiful Tyson has cancer, but I couldn’t be strong. I broke down as soon as one of the kids at WaaW asked me what was wrong. But perhaps that was showing a strength in itself, showing these kids with a million hardships that sometimes even the profe can’t be strong, it’s okay to let it out. Last week it was strong to ask for help, to step up and demand fair treatment by asking a one of our teachers to help us reclaim our bond. Earlier this week I was strong when, after three days of broken promises of furniture in our new apartment I stepped outside my comfort zone and said no.  Enough is enough. I would prefer to be homeless than to put up with the type lies that can only be told when they can’t be fully understood. Yesterday I was strong in the taxi, while I was holding back tears an wondering just exactly where we would end up. I know I always have something and someone to fall back on, and for that I am lucky. 

Through all of our dramas, all it takes is for that little face peering in off the street to bring me back to reality, to make me realise that all of this strength I have is nothing compared to the kid out on the cold street at midnight selling finger puppets to the drunk tourists, the six year old who has just had two teeth pulled opening his mouth up wide to show you, the little man who fell out of a second floor window and a week later is up and running, telling the us how much he missed us. All it takes is the grateful hug of an eleven year old boy, 'Gracias Profe', to make it all worthwhile.

Strength always means different things in different situations. Strength isn't always about holding back the tears when nothing is going right, strength is getting past those tears to what is beyond them, an experience from which to learn and grow. Beyond those tears and that hardship there will always be something positive, be it lady luck at the other end, a new friend or even just a memory, as long as you keep pushing you’ll come across it eventually, as we have, here in our beautiful new apartment with two lofts, our beautiful friends, a package waiting at the post office to be picked up tomorrow and a little chihauhau in the courtyard to keep us company.

Thank you luck, thank you strength, and thank you James for holding me together over the last couple of weeks. Once again, with electricity, a place to call home and exciting things happening at the Aldea, I have re-claimed my optimism. I feel strong.

From far far away to home

Finally we have found somewhere that we love, that has made us stop longing for home and start taking our trip for what it is, an amazing adventure. We have enjoyed all of our time up until now, but here in Tilcara with cobblestoned streets and adobe houses, nestled in a valley surrounded by hills covered in giant cactus, we have found a place that has met all of  our expectations.

Cordoba - 4th of April to 10th of April

But first, to recap the last couple of weeks as we have been a bit lazy with our updating!

From Rosario we headed north to Cordoba, where we were welcomed with open arms into the house of an amazing guy who we met through couchsurfing.com. Our welcome to Adrians house was in the form of a sticky note on the door bell.

'James & Brenna, Just gone to get us some beers! Adrian :D'

We knew right away we were in for a good time, we weren’t wrong. Our first night with Adrian he took us to ‘Salta La Linda’ to buy us the best empanadas in town. Here in Argentina I must compare the empanada to the Australian meat pie, or vanilla slice. Each town or region has their own slightly different version, and each town declares that theirs are THE BEST. After our feast of empanadas Adrian took us to a couple of his favourite night spots, he is a party animal and somehow managed to bring that out in us eventually!

Cordoba was a nice city, but big. Big plazas, big markets and big churches and an even bigger night life. We spent our time there lazily wandering the city, the local hills, the parks, the zoo and a museum dedicated to the 30,000 people who vanished during the dictatorship. It was all enjoyable, but by far the most enjoyable and memorable occasions were all to do with the people we met, who took us into their homes, fed us, plied us with many drinks, and showed us how Argentinians have a good time.

We were invited to a family dinner at Adrian’s Grandmothers house, Adrian’s dad had come to Cordoba with a 32 kilogram sudubi fish caught in the Parana River, in Rosario. His grandmother cooked the most amazing fish empanadas, I think the best empanadas we have had so far, and his dad cooked big chunks of fish on the asado, completed with a blue cheese sauce. Delicious. The food was amazing, but even more amazing was the company. Adrian’s dad and step mum, aunties and uncles, cousins, grandmother and brother were all thrilled to have us there, continually thanking us for coming and declaring that it was a new era, an international friendship, how amazing.

We were truly humbled. We were welcomed by a beautiful family, two crazy gringos who can speak barely enough Spanish to get by, amongst a lively, fiery family, 2 of whom could speak English, yet the conversations were real and meaningful despite the language barrier.  And despite how grateful they were to have us in their home, we were a hundred times more grateful for this amazing cultural experience. We were invited to Adrian’s dads wedding in December, I do hope that we can make it…

As I mentioned Adrian also managed to bring out the ‘party animals’ in us. Our night out with Adrian to was celebrate his lovely friend Emilia’s birthday. You must understand that Argentinian parties are not like Australian, while Australian parties tend to finish at 2 or 3am, that is when Argentinian parties start, though they do begin with pre-drinks earlier. Emilies party began with a small asado, at about 10pm, followed by much drinking and dancing. We learnt to dance ‘Cuarteto’, the local, Cordobese style of music and dancing, and drank from the communal jug of fernet. Fernet is the local flavour, and oh I do like it a lot, its mixed with coke and leaves a slightly bitter but refreshing aftertaste. It is always shared between friends. We shared it liberally. Around 2am, when I was thinking I may not be able to handle much more, it was announced that the party was about to start, we were heading out to a local nightclub. The nightclub was nothing different to Australian nightclubs, overpriced drinks, loud music, dancing, lights and smoke, and even though we haven’t been to a night club since the early days of our courtship, we danced and drank and partied with the best of them. We finally gave up the fight about 4:30am, that time in the night when the singles become couples and the couples become attached at the hip, or worse. We headed back through streets as crowded as if it were day, via a bakery that had just opened, and didn’t open our eyes for many hours after our heads hit the pillow.

'How the hell will we get home from here?!'
James and our host Adrian exploring the bus timetable
to get home from our adventure to 'Casa Bamba' in the
local hills.

Tucuman - 10th of April to 15th of April

From Cordoba we headed to Tucuman, where the universe was kind to us in a very round about way. We were lucky to find our wonderful hosts Julio and Innes, again through couch surfing. They have three beautiful daughters, the youngest of whom is 17, and a lovely, luxurious house in Yerba Buena, a suburb next to San Miguel De Tucuman (the capital city of the providence of Tucuman). Tucuman was a nice city, but again, another city. It’s not really our style, city city city city city. The heavens decided to open while we were in Tucuman, it rained every day, but it gave us an opportunity to chill, to relax, to take it easy after our crazy time in Cordoba.

Though perhaps I should be ashamed to admit it, the highlight of our stay was a visit to the cinemas, ‘Titanic 3D’. I must admit that when Titanic first came out I bought the VHS, the soundtrack, and I’m sure I had at least a poster or two on my walls. It was pretty influencial in my teenage years, shaping my views of romance and class divides, and watching it again was a real experience. The cinema was filled with people my age, nearly all of whom were sobbing by the end of the film, the men trying to hide it and the ladies openly embracing. It’s a strange experience to watch a film like that, a film that was really important in shaping your view of romance, slightly awkward as it brings back feelings and memories from so long ago, imagining finding a man as beautiful and romantic as Jack, breaking out from all of your constraints. During the lead up to the first kiss everyone was oddly silent, but when it happened applause erupted through the cinema. It was fantastic, everyone was on the same page.

We tried, and failed, to get tattoos in Tucuman, we tried and failed to get to the local hills, but we did succeed in resting up and having a beautiful taste of home and family life, something we had been missing so much.

Salta - 15th of April to 17th of April

We left on a cool morning that was promising to turn into another soggy day, a sad goodbye to our lovely hosts but an excitement about moving on to another stage in our journey.  This time a few more hours north, where the flat lands end and the hills begin, to Salta, nicknamed Salta La Linda (The Beautiful Salta), and it did live up to its reputation. We stayed only two nights, our main excitement there being a cable car up to the top of a great big hill with a beautiful view of the town and surrounding mountains which left James shaking and me grinning from ear to ear. We made it our mission to try some local delicacies in Salta, indulging in empanadas, humitas and locro, and of course some more submarinos (I’m sure I have mentioned them, hot milk with a stick of chocolate added, wonderful to warm the belly on a cool evening), all of which we enjoyed. The museum in Salta is reputed to be wonderful, containing mummies found in the Andies, but to our dismay the museum was closed on Monday, the day we were there. We stayed in a lovely hostel and left after two nights in high spirits. 

The cable car and the view over Salta. Lovely.

Tilcara - 17th of April to 24th of April

We were told over and over again that we must go to Jujuy (pronounced Hoo-huy), and Tilcara was suggested as a good centre for exploring. We were shown photos and I thought, well, it looks nice, why not… So we seated ourselves on another double decker bus and settled in for another long drive. This drive was much more scenic than any we had been on yet. Through beautiful big green hills, we were surprised as we thought we were heading to the desert. We climbed in altitude to over 2,000 meters and were surprised when we arrived in the capital of the province, that it was surrounded by lush green hills, similar to Salta. The photos we had been shown were of huge barren mountains, cactus, dry dust and blue skies. Well, a lot can change in two hours of driving, even bus driving, which is ridiculously slow. The change was quite sudden, and had us both glued to the window, oohing and ahhing at the beautiful colours of the sand, the giant looming mountains and the great rock formations. Never have we seen anything like it, the photos we saw were nice, but in reality, the beauty is beyond belief. We  knew almost as soon as we stepped off the bus that this could quite possibly be our favourite place we have visited in Argentina, and this has proved to be true. The streets are unpaved, except the main few which are cobblestoned, the houses are adobe or stone, the shops are unimposing, you actually have to look for them, and our hostel is filled with local folk music and wonderful people from around the world, and a view to the surrounding hills.

Tilcara is located in the  Quebrada de Humahuaca, a narrow, fertile valley surrounded by grand imposing hills. The altitude is 2456 meters, over 400 meters higher than the highest point in Australia, yet the mountains that surround the town reach up to 4000 meters above sea level. It is a small town, a population of less than 3000 people, but really it feels smaller. The residents are happy to give you a smile and a buen dia when you walk past them in the street, and despite the number of backpackers the place doesn’t feel like a tourist trap. The days are warm and sunny but the weather turns as soon as the sun drops behind the hills in the evening, an instant change to long pants and a jumper to combat the cold wind.

On our first day here we headed to the local ruins, the Pucara de Tilcara, which were partially restored in the 50s when they were first studied. They are a 10 minute walk from the town, located on a small hill in the middle of the valley, with views of the surrounding mountains and along the valley each way. The ruins are pre-Incan, a fortress that the local indigenous people used to fend off the Incas… a long time ago… traces of habitation go back 10000 years, in the 12^th century the Pucara was inhabited by around 2000 people, before it was finally overtaken by the Incas in the 15^th century (thank you Wikipedia!) It is a pretty amazing sight, the houses were built from stone with thatched roofs, some of the houses, the church, and the animal corals have been re-built, but the foundations of hundreds more houses are easily visible among the cacti that have long since taken over. Amazing.

Later in the afternoon we decided to climb to the local lookout that gives a great view over the town, we headed out with Diego, a great Swiss guy who was staying at our hostel. Somehow or other we couldn’t find the path, which was meant to be quite obvious, so instead we headed straight up another hill we found. It was a beautiful view, a deserted hill, great company, a beer in the backpack and a feeling of success. Success that we had finally found a place that had made us forget about ‘home’, stop pining and longing and start living for our adventure. I may not have mentioned the steep climb that it was up the hill, but I will mention the fact  that we almost had to slide back down the hill on our backsides as our path up the hill was much too steep to go down!

We took a 4 hour horse ride through the hills, stoping for a picnic of humitas at the 3,500 meters above sea level, and having our first taste of coca leaves, a traditional remedy for problems related to altitude. We went for a 4km hike to the Garganta Del Diablo, a beautiful canyon and a waterfall. We had a great time, meeting up with our new mate Dutchy, and our friend Diego. Again, the people really helped to make the journey amazing.

That night the hostel put on an asado at the nightclub that they own, its hard to describe how it feels to spend the day with new friends from around the world, the sit down with 25 others from all corners of the globe, to share a meal and a laugh, and to finally feel at home. To dance and to laugh and to marvel at the strobe lights in the cigarette smoke, to be so familiar with the local tunes that I can almost sing along, to share fernet with new friends and to know tomorrow, there are no obligations. It is corny, I know, but home is where the heart is and up until Tilcara my heart hadn’t left Australia. But finally it is here with me again, the giant mountain views have proved a barrier to my longing, the fresh air and large skies have opened up my horizons, and the people from around the world who are also far away from their loved ones, who open up so quickly and without fuss have started to fill the hole that has been left by being so far away from my family and friends. We danced long into the night with the euphoria of the long day, and needless to say the following day was spent doing nothing, oh sweet nothing at all.

We are still in Tilcara, staying a little longer than expected thanks to a mix up with bus tickets to Chile, but really I’m quite happy about that, as this beautiful little town has given me back my passion for our adventure. Today we visited Purmamarca, a small town an hour bus ride away, with new friends from Columbia, America and Japan. From there we went further to the Salinas Grandes, the local salt flats, passing the highest point of the local mountains at 4,170 meters. It was just amazing, both the highest point and the salt flats, like nothing I have ever seen before but just a small taste of the salt flats in Chile and Bolivia. We then had a lunch of empanadas and tomales and spend the afternoon walking around the ‘Hill of 7 colours’. The colours here in the hills are amazing, but aren’t done justice by photos….

Our plans for tomorrow are to relax, perhaps go to the museum if its open, book in a caving session for Monday, and just enjoy each others company. It is much too late, I have been typing for much too long and I do give you a big congratulations if you have managed to read my whole novel…

Well, I was about to say, its time for bed, but we have just been invited out to the pub, and why the hell not. We are on holidays after all…!

Cacti, Pre-Inca Ruins, and the beautifully coloured hills.

The sky here is so big.

View over the fertile valley to the hills opposite.

Horse riding through the hills.

Our lovely horses taking a spell at the top of the hill.

The 'Cascada' at the 'Garganta Del Diablo'

James couldn't resist!

The view from way up high, I can't tell you the
altitude there,  but not long after we were at
4170 meters above sea level.

Snow capped mountains reflected in the saline
lake at Salinas Grades. Amazing.

The salt flats go on and on and on and on... beautiful.

And Next...

Our plans now are to head to San Pedro De Atacama in Chile, then north to Arica, then into Peru. On the 7th of May we are starting a 5 week Spanish course in Cusco, Peru through www.fairplay-peru.org. I am so loving now, but also looking forward to the future.