sonesta posadas del inca hotel in yucay, an oasis in the sacred valley of the incas

After leaving the jungle, hot and tired and grimy from the miles we’d trekked over the last two days, I think I can speak for our whole travel group in saying we were all looking forward to cooler temperatures and hot showers. It was May 22, and my hair was stiff with dirt and grime and unwashed since May 17, but I could not bring myself to wash it with icy cold water in the jungle lodge bathroom. Sometime around mid-afternoon, we arrived in Yucay and our hotel for the next two nights.

This is what we saw from the bus as we rolled up in front. The entrance, on the lower right above the white van, gave no clue as to what we’d encounter when we got inside.

First we had to walk through an open, enclosed reception area to get to the lobby to register, but we’d had a glimpse of things to come. Because the altitude is higher, around 8,000 feet, we have a cup of coca tea. Afterwards, things definitely begin to look better.

Pretty good, actually. Definitely promising!

The building above seemed to be undergoing a bit of renovation, but hope springs eternal! When I got a look at the gigantic hydrangea garden, I knew that–as long as we had hot showers and food–I could put up with just about anything else.

I’ve seen different colors of hydrangeas before, but never in such a mixed bed as these. I researched how to do it online and learned this. For pink plants, you need to make sure they don’t pick up aluminum from the soil. If it’s there naturally you have to figure out how to get it out. For blue flowers, aluminum must be present by adding aluminum sulfate to the soil around them if it isn’t there already. The choice of fertilizer will also affect the color change. A fertilizer low in phosphorus and high in potassium is helpful in producing a good blue color. Super phosphates and bone meal should be avoided if trying to produce blue. Now if it works for you, please let me know.

Here’s the pathway that leads to our room on the second floor. After we got inside using a huge, old fashioned skeleton key that I haven’t seen the likes of  in years and years, guess where I headed first?

Now that’s a sight for sore eyes! And the beautiful, modern bathtub looked equally inviting.

I was ready to use it posthaste, but we hadn’t had lunch yet and it was already about 3:30 p.m. We’d munched a bit on granola bars and other healthy snacks like m&ms along the way, but we were both starving. Hubby has a sugar problem, so I agreed that we should delay the bath and shampoo and go straight to the restaurant to find some real food. Without even changing our jungle-dirty clothes, we headed off to the restaurant. On the way out of the room, we noticed this little trapdoor at the top of the door so you could look to see who was at the door before you opened it. (See history below to learn more.)

That’s the restaurant straight ahead, where the umbrellas are lined up along the side.

We decided to try the buffet since it was still available and we could just grab a plate to eat immediately, even though it would throw our dinnertime way off, or nix dinner plans completely. While we were busy chowing down, some interesting things were going on outside:

and these ladies of the village were busy stitching new items to sell.

After our late lunch and a quick browse through the handicrafts, and still looking forward to that bath and shampoo, we promised the ladies we’d be back mañana and headed back to that luxurious bathroom!

For history buffs, here’s a synopsized history of this beautiful valley and village of Yucay.

What is now the Sonesta Posadas del Inca hotel for tourists was once the home for the religious order of Saint Catalina of Sena in Cuzco. Long before that, however, in the fifteenth century, the last ruler of the United Inca Empire, Huayna Capac, visited the sacred valley and was so captivated by the incomparable beauty of the landscape here in what came to be called Yucay (which, incidentally, means deceit), he established a summer palace there. He was surprised to discover the soil was actually very poor in fertility (see? now you see why Yucay became the name) so, being a rich emperor and all, he had his Mitimaes (families taken from their communities by the Inca State, and used to perform political, cultural, social and economic functions–it’s nice to be king!) bring in the richest soils from all corners of the empire.

They did so, thereby making that state the most productive place in the sacred valley. Then he died and left everything to two sons from different wives and I guess you can imagine the feuds that led to. War between the brothers had just ended when Francisco Pizarro began his conquest. Huayna Capac’s third son, Atahualpa Capac, was the last Inca to succumb to the Spanish.

Moving ahead to the 18th century, the nuns thought it would be a great place for a monastery, and that explains the barred lookout in the picture. Unfortunately for them, however, their efforts to operate the place were insufficient so they soon packed up and returned to Cuzco where the order remains today.

Zooming now into the 20th century, Leonrio Arteaga, a hotelier and owner of Hotels Alahambra in Cuzco, restored the place with love and care and turned it into an inn, which opened with 17 rooms in 1976. It changed hands the last time when it was sold to the hotel chain of Posada del Inca and renovated to open in 1995 with 85 modern guest rooms.

I can tell you from first hand experience, it’s beautiful and peaceful (except when a wedding party books the pavillion as they did one night during our stay), and expensive. But it has wonderful showers.

“picking” the ripest and best fruits

Sometimes when you have questions, the answers seem to come out of nowhere. It was perfect timing this week, while we’re right smack dab in the middle of fruit picking season,  that I found an article on how to choose the ripest and best fruit while I was stuck in my ultra-comfy lounge chair during my latest rheumatology treatment this week in the clinic. It seems fruit is rich in nutrients that help fight inflammation and do all kinds of good things for your body, and arthritis patients should eat more of it. To make it easier to make choices, they provided a short list of fruits in season and easily available in food stores now.

We had bought a pineapple from Costco the day before. Hubby had asked me how do you tell when it’s ripe? I didn’t really know, but I’ve always chosen my pineapple by the smell and how hard it feels and the results have been mixed. So I decided to share the fruit listing in Wintersong so that I’ll always be able to find it to refresh my memory now and then. I may be one of the few women who’s been discouraged from buying and eating fruit after wasting money on fruit that got too mushy too soon or never seemed to ripen, but in case you’ve been challenged too, maybe you’ll find it useful too. (Back next week with Peruvian adventures.)

BERRIES – stop ripening once they’re off the vine and tread a thin line between ripe and rotting. Staining at the bottom of the container indicates over-ripeness. Go for plump berries with deep color.

ORANGES – the sweetest ones give slightly when squeezed and have shiny, thin skin. It’s OK if Valencias aren’t orange; they can have a green tinge even after they ripen.

MELONS – will ripen after a few days at room temperature. Watermelon bottom will go from white to creamy yellow. Cantaloupes are ready when fragrant.

KIWIS – can be set on the counter to ripen. It’s ready when it yields to a soft squeeze.

BANANAS – should be bought green, when they’re less fragile. Ripen at home to yellow with hints of brown.

APPLES – are already fully ripe when picked. Look for firm, smooth skin without soft spots.

CHERRIES – stop ripening once picked. Buy only plump and firm ones with stems still attached.

PINEAPPLES – should be fully ripe with a yellow hue, deep green leaves and should be slightly firm with a sweet smell.

POMEGRANATES – are shipped ripe. Choose a large, brightly colored one with skin intact.

MANGOES – ripen at room temperature, until slightly soft and very fragrant. A little speckling or bruising is ok.

PEACHES and NECTARINES – are usually sold “ripe when picked” but still fairly firm. Avoid rock hard. Store a few days on the counter until soft and juicy.

sunday sail on the salt lake in utah

Wasn’t it nice of our son-in-law and daughter to buy a nice boat to take us sailing after they read about Hubby’s love for boat rides in one of my posts? It was a great sail on a lazy Sunday afternoon yesterday, but when I got home I was one whupped puppy (tired), and I wasn’t the one who had to do all the work either.

nothing about relationships is perfect, but …

(a little break from my Peru vacation posts which will continue soon)

Do you snore? Count yourself one of the lucky ones if you don’t, but if you admit that you snore or know someone who does, as I do, this video may remind you that what is often the most disturbing and imperfect parts of our imperfect human relationships may be the thing we miss the most when we lose that imperfect someone in our lives.  God bless my hubby for putting up with that imperfection–along with all the others– in our lives for 40 years.

a somewhat disappointing day on the river

When we went to bed the night before we were hoping Elder and Aldo, our guides, were joking about the early morning wakeup call but, true to their word, we were awakened a little before dawn by a loud voice and a couple of whacks on on the outside walls (there were no doors, only a fabric drapes shirred across each room’s entry). I probably slept a total of two hours during the night, but there was no way to get away with burying my face deeper in the pillows or I would lose my one day opportunity for jungle adventure. So we rolled out of bed and dressed in clothes that we’d laid out the night before, damp from all the moisture in the air.

We had to be quick as we were all to meet at the lodge where I lathered myself with sun screen and insect repellent and booted myself with the boots assigned the previous evening to wear during our stay. Jungle Jim and Jane, with backpacks on and hiking sticks in hand, were good to go. Breakfast would have to wait until we returned, but I’d grabbed a banana from the fruit basket in the dining room, and Hubby had stashed granola bars in his pack.

This is it, the 100 foot canopy tower I wasn’t sure I’d be able to climb, but the banistered staircase helps make you feel fairly secure while you climb from one platform to the next, making it pretty easy–almost easy as eating a piece of cake.

Now and then toucans, parrots or macaws were seen flying across the treetops. Apparently the rest of the animals were too shy to show themselves, and the jungle provides lots of places to hide.

I’ve always admired the intricate beauty of spiderwebs and had to stop to admire and photograph the early morning handiwork of this industrious spider. I remembered the times as a child I would reach out and mess them up so I could watch the poor mama spider spin them all over again.

Our guides, Elder and Aldo, are both members of nearby communities and they also grew up along the Tambopata river. When he was a young boy about nine years old, Elder’s grandfather taught him he should look for a large stick if he ever came across “Yakumama” (Quechuan word for mother of the water or Anaconda) so he could hit it. Apparently that’s supposed to scare it away.

As the day progressed, we learned more about the communal reserve ecotourism project. For instance, there are regulations in place forbidding members to hunt in the reserve or fish with nets in the lake, or to cut forest around the nests of the illusive harpy eagle. Because the whole community is involved in the project, when someone ignores it, the whole community views it as  a problem. This has resulted in drastically reduced infractions.

That’s my boot sticking out after we finally reached  the top platform and looked down on the trees. I am slightly acrophobic, but I was so taken with the fact that I managed to get that far without chickening out, then slowly looking down and moving slowly, I got over it enough to enjoy it until after what seemed like an interminable length of time for 13 people (our entire group and the two guides) to stand in one small space. We finally climbed down carefully and walked back to the lodge for a hearty breakfast which was sorely needed at this point.

I think the distance we covered was about a mile each way, so immediately after breakfast we all went back to our rooms where Hubby collapsed in the hammock and I fell into bed to rest a bit before the next hike.

The next activity was another hike–this time to the Condenado Lake where a catamaran (raft) awaited to take us around the lake to see if we could find any wildlife. The sun was already high in the sky and I was feeling the effects of all the walking plus the heat and humidity, and hoping with all my might that I wouldn’t develop diarrhea as a few other members of our group had, because if you had to go there was no place to go except behind a bush or large tree.

By the time we arrived at the dock area where the boat was waiting, Marta wasn’t feeling well and had decided she would wait onshore while the rest of us, minus Robert and Mary who’d stayed behind at the lodge to rest and enjoy their hammocks, went on.  Later I’d wish I’d stayed with them.

There didn’t seem to be any animals around, so after a little tour looking for sea otters or other wildlife of interest, Elder and Aldo cranked up the motor and took us to a spot to show us how to fish for piranha, which seemed to be the only fish biting in the area.

Unfortunately, ‘though we all tried our hands with the makeshift fishing gear (one made with one of our walking sticks with a line and sinker attached to it), no one was successful except Elder.

My fishing experience is limited to a cane pole with line and sinker outfitted with a cork bobbing cork to let me know when a fish strikes.  Without one, I don’t catch fish, I feed fish. Try as I might and not at all surprising to me, I just couldn’t get the hang of striking the water with the bait just so in order to make the Piranha want to grab it in their mouths.

Now I was beginning to feel very hot, very tired, and beginning to hate everybody who seemed to be enjoying their fruitless fishing, all the time wondering how in the world I would ever make it if we stayed out much longer. I was really happy at last when someone suggested it might be time to go back and check on Marta.

Back at the dock Marta was waiting in the shade and was fine, or said she was, but on the way back nature continued to call her name several times, and eventually I was forced to beg help in locating a place to pee. What I didn’t know at the time, the anti-altitude sickness pill I’d taken that morning to prepare for tomorrow’s high altitude in Cusco was a diuretic. When I finally got back to the lodge, I knew I was done for the day.

After spending the rest of the afternoon in bed napping, I felt pretty good by dinnertime, but to my ever lasting chagrin, I missed the three activities for the day that I’m sure I would have enjoyed far more than either the canopy tower or Pirahna fishing. I missed seeing the Shaman at the Ethnobotanical Center where he showed how he produced medicine from forest plants. I missed the farm where specimens of just about every plant and tree in the Amazon grew, and I missed out on the evening boat ride where a fairly large yellow Caiman was spotted.

The next day, Friday, after a pretty good night’s sleep in spite of all my napping the previous afternoon, I felt great.

Although it felt like a week at times, the total time we spent at Refugio Amazonas was two nights and one full day. A short time, but long enough to become so fond of both Elder (left) and Aldo, whom I affectionately called my heros, who were both such gentlemen who helped me out of more scrapes than you can imagine on all those slippery river slopes where I had so much trouble with my balance. Plus they found the best upturned giant tree roots that made for the best outhouse in the whole jungle. Ohhhhh, what a relief it was; I’ll never forget it. Hubby and I invited them both to visit and stay with us if they ever come to the U.S. And then we were off to the airport in Puerto Maldonado and electricity and hot running water in Cusco.

To sum it up, what was to have been the highlight of the trip for me was somewhat disappointing, but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything in the world.

refugio amazonas, peru . . . the adventure continues

It’s been a dizzy two days into our tour so far, the first day ending with a fabulous Chinese (Chifa) welcoming dinner treat that Marta (our Profesora) hosted at a private resort located right next to the Pacific Ocean, with members of her family in attendance to see her and meet us. Altogether, there had been seven meals total that I neither had to plan or prepare  (hurrah!) , two nights with not enough sleep (is there EVER enough sleep on vacations?), and finally it’s Wednesday so we’re on the way here to the Amazon Jungle, a place that’s always been steeped in romance and mystery in my mind. I watch the mountainous terrain out the airplane window wondering about the wildlife and adventure that lies just ahead along Peru’s eastern coast.

We finally landed in Puerto Maldanodo after a brief stopover of our domestic flight in Cuzco where I remembered the reported altitude of nearly 12,000 feet. As we weren’t allowed to deplane, even to sniff the air (or lack of it), I didn’t feel any different than yesterday. Of course we had taken the advised precaution of starting our high altitude pills in Lima the morning before.

One of the greatest things about a planned tour is the fact you never worry about how to get where you need to be when you get where you’re going because there’s always a bus, a driver, and guide(s) waiting to greet you as soon as you’re off the plane. Our guides (there were several representatives at this point), most of whom lived in and had families in Puerto Maldonado joined us on the bus to transfer us to the Refugio Amazonas field office for Jungle Expeditions. On the way they made us gently aware of the community’s ecotourist effort by giving us this snack tray to eat along the way. You can see there’s a bottle of water, some locally made chips and nuts plus that beautiful little banana–all packed in a reusable, locally woven reed basket they collected at the end of the ride–almost no waste with fancy packaging, the only “waste” being the plastic bottles and which were collected at our destination.

During a brief rest stop here we were able to use the banos (bathrooms) and stretch our legs a bit–some of us even tried a few bottles of the local beer–before we were transfered by bus and personally assigned guides, Elder and Aldo (about whom you’ll learn more and see in photographs in a future post), to the Tambopata river dock where this new form of transportation waited.

With lifejackets for all and much needed assistance from the Jungle Expeditions staff, all of us climbed aboard and figured out how to get our individual Mae West style jackets on. What may not be apparent in this picture is how steep and muddy and slippery the river banks were, and a climb either up or down was required every time we had to either enter or depart the several different boats we were to use the next two days.

In my mind’s eye, the Amazon river passages have always been treacherous and narrow waterways with gnarled tree limbs awash with snakes lunging or crocodiles snapping at the boat during every bend and turn. In truth, the journey–here in Peru at least–was tranquil and without incident.

While we did spot wildlife now and again (thanks for our guides with their perfect jungle vision), it wasn’t as up close and personal as I hoped. The ride was beautiful and memorable regardless, and since it was already sometime early afternoon (around 3 p.m. as I recall), the guides passed lunch around for each of us.

What we had was a fried rice mixture of scrambled eggs and veggies wrapped in banana leaves, an easy travel and serve meal. After finishing there were no paper plates to clog or pollute the river and we could simply throw the banana leaves away without worry. The leaves breakdown easily and quickly in the water, and any leftovers serve as fish and river critter food. Another good ecological example.

Along the way we saw several rodents, capybara, that looked a lot like a huge pig and in fact are members of the guinea pig family. Sorry those photos didn’t turn out well. There were also numerous sightings of Macaws and other exotic birds and of course we oft times heard screeching monkeys. Our guides assured us that even though we weren’t able to spot the monkeys or more scarey creatures, THEY most certainly saw us. I couldn’t decide if I was happy about that–or maybe a tiny bit disappointed.

By the way, I thought you might like to see the gangplank (is it still called that?) we used to embark and disembark the boat.

This may not look terribly interesting due to the distance, but it’s a boat used for gold panning. We saw it at least twice and it was always moving river water through the “sifter” with a power motor. There’s a couple of workers inside also that you can barely see. At various times we also saw people, especially children, fishing or enjoying themselves swimming and splashing. I even saw a few washing clothing in the water’s edge. It was easy to see the peoples’ strong connection to this river, the Tambopata.

When we were planning the tour, we chose the lodge we’d stay in by the number of hours we wanted to cruise the river enroute. There was a stop 30 minutes in, as well as the one we chose, about two and a half or three hours. After half an hour we stopped and unloaded the passengers who chose the shorter cruise and then continued on for several hours until we reached our lodge, the Refugio Amazonas. Since it begins to get dark around 5:30 p.m., we began the long hike to the lodge in daylight, but by the time we made it the mile or so by foot to arrive at our forest lodge, night had fallen–a great excuse for a few of our group to stop for beer and wine. Then, before dinner, we checked out our digs for the next three nights.

Here’s our room. (Actually these photos were taken the next afternoon while it was still daylight.) Note that you’re actually looking out into the forest through the open side. There was no fourth wall, only a little overhang of thatch you can see at the top, designed to keep rain out, but not bugs. Consequently the mosquito nets above the beds were a must have! What a hassle it was to get in and out of bed without leaving an opening for the bugs to get in. And for some reason I kept having to get up every few hours to pee. That figures, right!? Oh yes, we learned to sleep with our flashlight helmets in our bed so we could see to get to the bathroom because it was pretty dark otherwise. There’s NO electricity except for 4 hours or so each day in the main lodge and the lodge-provided kerosene lights which the staff turned out every night around 9 p.m.

Marta provided a citranella candle for each of our rooms, which provided an eerie glow. Several times I’d wake up to see outlines of gigantic bugs along the outside of the netting. We set our candle on the wooden ledge and it burned well into the early hours of morning. We didn’t get much time to enjoy the hammock, but it was located in the perfect place, don’t you think? At night the room was filled with cricket, frog, and bird trills, and probably others that we didn’t recognize.

The bathroom had bamboo walls and floor, complete with cracks in the floor. Hubby accidentally dropped a pill on the floor and it went through the cracks. We learned not to open our meds in this room. Since it was a malaria pill, Hubby assured me none of the bugs and snakes below the floor would get malaria. (He meant to do that!)

The shower and bath faucets only provided cold water! The temperatures were pretty high outside with humidity of about 98%,  so cold showers means REALLY COLD. Unfortunately it was hard to skip a shower because we all sweated so much during our long hikes and you WANTED that shower regardless of the cold. In the morning, the clothes we laid out to put on at 5:00 the next morning were already damp and actually had to dry on our bodies when the sun rose. Several members of our group reported frog visitors in their showers, but unfortunately only roaches seemed to visit us in our room! We had to be very careful to zip or latch everything all the time as they came out at night to crawl everywhere. YUK! I’d take  frogs over roaches any day!

It was getting pretty late, so we all gathered back in the dining area for dinner which was very good. My eyes were always bigger than my stomach, but it was nice to be able to sample some authentic Peruvian dishes at every meal. Bottled filtered water and fruit were also available at anytime.

And here some of us gather after dinner and wait for the guides and others to learn the plans for the next day, which will begin far too early, but will be well worth it. Tomorrow, among other things I’ll talk about later, we soon learn that we’ll go pirahna fishing.

protest lends drama to aguas calientes/machu picchu adventure

When I started these Peruvian trip highlights, I had planned to do it in order, but today I jump ahead in the events of our recent tour of Peru as I read in this morning’s paper that yesterday Peru’s Congress had indefinitely suspended two key legislative decrees that spurred the Amazon Indian protests that erupted in bloodshed during a government crackdown on protests last week bringing light to a drama that enfolded practically before our very eyes.

On May 25, we rolled into the tiny village of Aguas Calientes on this train. After an afternoon visit to the Maras salt mine, we transferred to the Ollantaytambo train station that would take us to an overnight stay there at the Presidente Hotel.

The hotel was located in a beautiful setting, but–alas–was not the most pleasant of hotels to stay.  A couple members of our group requested moves to different rooms after one encountered a wall with mold growing on it, and another was greeted by a Bates Hotel-like bathroom with its floor covered with water.  Our room (above) was okay, but the shower drain had a distinct urine smell. I think the hotel has major plumbling problems, but we managed just fine for an overnight so we could visit Machu Picchu.

See what I mean by the beautiful setting? We were lucky to have this streamside balcony where I enjoyed watching life on the street below. There was a park with benches alongside the street where three of the plumpest, prettily feathered hens came to scratch for food in later afternoon and again the next morning. As I watched them, I fell in love all over again with chickens!

As we walked about the town on our own, we noticed the children playing. The girls above were so overcome with joy they were dancing about the aisles of the craft market where their mother was working in one of the booths. I asked and got permission to photograph the girls. All the time, we couldn’t help noticing how happy the children in the town looked.

These boys were enjoying their play after school on the main plaza where everything from construction to touristy gawking was going on. We stopped at this coffee shop/internet cafe to drink coffee in the afternoon, eat ice cream and check our email.

We had to fare for ourselves for dinner the night before and lunch the last day, and I needn’t have worried about accidentally eating guinea pig as most menus were written in Spanish and English. You can see that cuy was easily available, however, by this poster-sized menu outside many restaurants. (Note the 3rd item from the top–yup!–guinea pig prepared a variety of ways!)

People were standing outside the restaurant fronts waving menus and trying to talk everyone into stopping to eat there. Didn’t matter, it seemed, the time of day as they were always there like carnival barkers. Hubby, always the clown, amused the proprietess of the place we had lunch in by grabbing a menu and beckoning tourists (other members of our tour group that happened by) to come have lunch there. I keep telling him someday he’s going to get into trouble doing stuff like that.

In fact, it wasn’t long afterwards that this group trekked by, presumably on their way to the main plaza. Close your eyes and imagine that you’re all alone at night in a jungle and these guys are gathered nearby. Hummmmmmmmmm.

We asked several shopkeepers what was going on, and the best we could understand was that this was some sort of protest over water, either the tax-free use of it as it was rumored that President Garcia was imposing a tax on water that had been provided free by the glacier-topped Andes for thousands of years. Another story had it that stores were going to be required by law to switch to glass bottles instead of plastic, which local shop owners didn’t feel they could afford. Whatever, we supposed that the fury wasn’t about us so we went on about our touristy business.

We’d read quite a lot about the hot springs for which the village was named, Aguas (water) and Calientes (hot), and decided we had to check it out for ourselves. With swimsuits in hand, we trekked off uphill (everything in town was either uphill or downhill) and discovered the entry booth was quite a few yards away from the spring entrance. We were told we couldn’t see the spring (to check it out) unless or until we paid the entry fee. We soon saw why.

As you can see, the water looks cloudy and polluted. There were enough separate pools so that everyone could have their own private one, and after we mustered up the courage to climb into our own pool we found that indeed there was an opening from the spring source and it was being fed by fresh water. What we couldn’t quite figure out, because the water level seemed stable, was where it was draining out. The top wasn’t covered so there were lots of floating bugs and debris to worry about as well.

On the way into the main entry, we passed through this room (you can see the entrance which we passed through at the left rear). The decor here and the previous room–which was the empty bar–was wild as you can see here. In fact, for all my worry about boa constrictors and pythons in the jungle, this is as close as I actually came to one myself.

(Relax. It’s just a wall mural! Fooled you, didn’t I?) I’d guesstimate that we spent about three minutes and 45 seconds in the springs. As soon as Hubby discovered the cold showers we had come through were actually continually-running hot water from the springs, we both spent a couple of minutes rinsing off and enjoying the clean water.

Back in town, life continued to go on–business as usual. These two were delivering vegetables and paper goods to someone up the street. By the way, the colorfully painted building they’re walking by is an elementary school where we watched mothers pick up and deliver their children.

Later, back at the hotel, the front of which faced the railroad tracks, the group we’d seen before had assembled and essentially clogged up the intersection here.

We were still somewhat in the dark about what was going on, but soon heard a rumor that some protesters had arrived from all over Peru, representing each region, and were planning to shut down the city tomorrow. Tomorrow. Oh well, we were happy we were scheduled to leave by train around 4 p.m. for Cusco. We’d be long gone.

Or would we? We were suddenly reminded of our delayed train journey of the day before. We’d been out of the Ollantaytambo station for perhaps half an hour when the train had stopped suddenly in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. We had sat there for quite awhile watching a flurry of activity by train engineers outside the train windows. They were running back and forth and talking on mobile phones as if something was up.

Soon rumor filtered through the cabin cars that there had been a rock on the track and we stopped because of it. Then we heard we had stopped to let other trains go by. We weren’t sure what was going on, but the story about the rock on the track seemed to stick. Funny we forgot all about it–despite our long delay–until today.

We watched a little nervously as police across the street seemed to be gathering in anticipation of some sort of altercation. The word coming down the gossip mill still was that the protestors were going to let everyone leave, and then TOMORROW they were closing the town down by whatever means. All business would come to a stop, tourists or not! At 3:30 p.m. our group had assembled in the hotel lobby and were grateful to be leaving by foot for the short walk to the railway station. It was definitely time to get out of Dodge, Mister Dillon!

At the train station we sat crowded into too few benches due to the heavy backup of tourists trying to get out of town back to anywhere except Aguas Calientes since that’s where the trouble seemed to lie.

Long story short, we were delayed about two hours, but finally left to get back to Cuzco and the Ruinas Hotel where most of our baggage was waiting for us. The train journey was long and arduous. Whether it was of the train staff’s normal routine, or they were  doing it as a public relations gesture to take our minds off the potential dangers of the impending strike, we were about half an hour into our journey when the train stopped and this fellow jumped out.

It was quickly apparent that he was a jokester, not a protestor, as he sauntered up and down and aisles inviting people to pet his “pet llama.”

Here he makes eyes at Marilyn, a member of our travel group. The music and rhythm were rather catchy, and soon others in the train, us included, joined in keeping time with the music. Supposedly, this guy had something to do with some sort of Peruvian festival. Perhaps. I’m sticking to my original story, however.

When his act ended, the other two crew members entertained us during part of the journey with a fashion show of some of the latest from Peru’s fashion mill.

They posed for a Kodak moment when they were all finished, and the train journey continued without further incident. What amused me most was how commerce continues despite everything! Those clothes were beautiful but damned expensive! I have no idea how many items they sold, but some I’m sure.

The next day in Cuzco, we saw similar protests going on in the streets, but to the tourist’s eye it was business as usual even though our tour directors were forced to change the day’s itinerary slightly to accommodate the “no business” strike order of the city.

We were sitting in a vegetarian cafe enjoying lunch, however, when I noticed the small shop across the street closing their medal slide door at the same time that our restaurant hostess rushed to the front and latched the double doors from the inside. The protesters were rumored to be on their way through the streets to check that businesses were cooperating with their strike order.

For the most part, the protests seemed organized and peaceful, though a couple of young Americans in the cafe we had lunch in told us they had been attacked by some of the more unruly members the day before. Nobody was hurt, but their rental car had been pelted by heavy rocks causing damages they were forced to pay for to the rental agency.

Now I learn today finally what all the hoopla was about. According to the ww4report website, Members of the Machiguenga indigenous group in Cusco blocked the train to the Machu Picchu archeological site starting on May 26; about 300 Machiguenga protested peacefully in Aguas Calientes, a major tourist attraction near the site. The laws they had been protesting were part of a package of more than 100 decrees that President Alan García signed in 2008 to bring Peru into compliance with a Free Trade Agreement with the US which went into effect earlier this year. You can read the whole story here.

Yes, we were there and thus are a part of Peru’s history now.  Hubby also signed a petition against the road from Acre in Brazil coming across Cuzco to Lima while we went to the Plaza in Cusco the next day even though the petition was written in Portuguese with the Brazilian guy translating it for us in his very poor English. The message was clear enough, however, and he signed it. What did I tell you about my Hubby?!

As for the protests, we were surprised about how we had trouble getting our Peruvian guides to tell us what it was really about.  Either they really did not know or they were trying to keep us from worrying.  They probably did not know that if we had known the details, we would have marched with the natives carrying the bows and arrows. In a way, I guess you could say the hullabaloo was about us, after all.

remembering lima and jonas brothers encounter

“If it’s Tuesday, this must be Belgium!”

I can’t tell you how many times that phrase from the 1969 movie was repeated during the 16 days of our whirlwind tour of Peru. Tonight will mark our first week back home again, and you might think I would have caught up on sleep by now but you’d be wrong. Rather than write about the pros and cons of rigorous touring as an older globe trotter, however, I will try to report the highlights as they “actually happened” rather than re-construe the day to day itinerary I posted each day during the trip. With very few exceptions events occurred pretty much as related. I hope these posts will prove noteworthy as a travel diary of the highlights of our vacation in Peru.

We were up and getting dressed at 5 a.m. the morning of May 18. After brewing coffee to go for the three of us (our daughter had spent the night so that she could drive us to the airport) and loading our bags, we were–after months of dreaming and planning–finally on our way.

Miraculously, all flights went off as scheduled and we landed in Lima on schedule about an hour before midnight, collected our luggage and made it to the hotel in Miraflores just past midnight. One of the really great things about professional tours is that despite the late hour, our driver and two guides were waiting to take us to our hotel as soon as we all retrieved our bags.

As I’d read in previous hotel guest reviews, the hotel was charming and beautiful but noisy. Added to the mix was our excitement at being there, so few of us slept well the first night as we were so excited at the next day’s program that began early next morning.

After our first breakfast in Peru in the hotel dining room (where I discovered I’m not that into Peruvian bacon) we began the day with visits to the Santo Domingo and St. Peter churches and the Monastery of San Fransisco on the Plaza Mayor (main square).

Our welcoming lunch was at the Huaca Pucllana Restaurant located within the compound of a 1,500-year-old adobe pyramid built by the original inhabitants of Lima. This upscale restaurant with the covered terrace where we took our meal has to be one of the best spots in town for Westerners. The menu is creative Peruvian, with fusion touches spicing up classic criollo cooking.

Other guests looked to be not only rich, but very important and accomplished. And then there was me melting away in my casual top in the humid weather. Behind me are the ruins of the Huaca Pucllana, an archaeological compound built between 200 and 700 AD by the early inhabitants of Lima. I’m thinking somebody had to know SOMEBODY to acquire permission to build at this illustrious site!

At the head of the table (right) is Liliana, the owner/manager of Viracocha Tourist service.  Hubby was off photographing the Jonas brothers while the rest of us waited to see what was for lunch. Here are a few examples from the many courses of our lunch, which included those famous Pisco sours to begin:

A creamy, lightly spiced squash soup

a crusted and grilled sea bass

a meatless veggie-rissoto dish for Hubby

and one of the two desserts offered (sorry but I ate one before I remembered to take a picture), a creamy ice cream over a pudding flavored with a local fruit that made me think of butterscotch.

When we arrived at the restaurant we were bombarded by hoards of teenagers, mostly girls, lined up along the curve entrance road. They were all begging us to take them inside with us! We soon learned they were there hoping to catch a glimpse of the Jonas brothers, who were in Lima on tour, were to arrive at any moment.

According to the Lima press, the famous brothers were quite taken with the restaurant’s llamas in residence. And, as promised we sent a photo file of our candid Jonas brothers photographs made by Hubby to the teenage daughter of one of our guides.

After this magnificent lunch spent rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, the afternoon was spent pretty much on schedule with tours of churches and museums filling up the day before finally returning to the hotel late in the afternoon almost too tired to enjoy our private patio.

Now that I’ll filled with memories of good food and our time in Lima, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to take another nap. Hopefully, I’ll wake up and be back soon with further highlights from other points of our tour. At this time, I can only tell you this: it gets better!

Notes from my gratitude journal for the day: (1) I’m grateful we arrived safely; (2) I’m grateful for the filtered water provided by the hotel for its guests; and (3) I’m thankful to be able to get to bed early so as to be ready for the early (5:30 a.m.) wakeup call–and sleeping better that night.