Peru

This entry is going to start with a rant I´m afraid. I hate border crossings, I hated them when I was with Abi and I hate them even more now that I´m on my own! The towns themselves on either side of a border in Latin America tend to be ugly ‘no-mans lands’. More often than not they are confusing, hectic and full of people eager to take advantage of you. Needless to say that after taking an all day bus to the south of Ecuador from Quito, spending a night in a grotty little town, then getting up at 5 the following day to get straight back on the road, I was already in a slightly fragile state of mind when I attempted to cross into Peru. This was made a lot worse when I realised I´d managed to get on the wrong bus and travel north bound for an hour, therefore requiring me to travel right back to my starting point. I eventually managed to get myself on the correct bus heading south-bound and found my way to the immigration office only to find that the place where I needed to get my exit stamp was 8 miles up the road in the direction I´d just come from. Eventually I managed to get my exit and entry stamp for both countries, but by this point I was a wee bit unstable, so when my taxi driver on the Peruvian side attempted to change his price from 1 dollar to 20 I cracked and simply burst into tears. As it turns out this is the most successful bit of bartering I´ve ever done, and with a look of sheer terror in his eyes he immediately dropped his price back down! The problem was that much like a lot of women who have been pushed just that little bit too far, once I´d started I couldn't stop and I remained in a sniffling state right up until I hauled my ass onto the bus for Lima, at which point an elderly Peruvian gent sitting next to me took pity on me and engaged me in idle chit chat about swine flu and other topical conversations, which he then followed up with asking if I needed feeding! Let me assure you, while travelling might be exhilarating and full of discovery most of the time, it can also be trying, testing and rarely glamorous! 29 hours later I arrived in Lima and by that time I’d managed to compose myself!

The following day my mum, Hils G joined me in Peru´s capital and we had a much needed catch up over wine and seafood. Whether it was the wine, the seafood, or the monster journey I’m not entirely sure but the following day I spent most of the afternoon/evening projectile vomiting while Hils G looked after me the way only mothers can. Besides being sick, Lima itself isn’t a terribly attractive city as it’s covered in a thick layer of smog for most of the year, so with that in mind we quickly exited the city and made our way to Cusco.

Cusco itself is tourist central with every second building hosting a tour agency or a restaurant, despite this fact it still has a certain charm and just a few blocks away from the central plaza there remains a much more authentically South American scene. Whilst adapting to the altitude we meandered around the local market, which would have made a great film set for Willy Wonka and the Sausage Factory, with rivers of blood, walls made up of sheep's skulls and waterfalls of entrails cascading from all directions! From the market we took a wrong turn somewhere and managed to find ourselves quite literately on Willy Ally where we were greeted by a river of piss and a small Peruvian penis, a most surreal experience to share with your mother, but a bonding one all the same!

After a few brief days in Cusco our real adventure began when we set off in search of the great Macchu Pichu. We decided to opt for a slightly different trek to The Inca Trail, as due to its fame this option is guaranteed to be filled with people (and therefore sometimes litter) and we wanted a little more isolation, which was exactly what we got! Besides another English couple, Bob and Sandra, our guide, Maralie, and our porters, the only other people we bumped into in the entire 4 days were sheep herders! I cannot rave about this experience enough, the landscape continued to astonish even on our fourth day of hiking, with snow capped mountains imposing from all sides and valleys that seemed to have no end, the company was just grand and the service we received was nothing short of total luxury! When we arrived to camp on our first night, our tents were already set up for us along with a dining tent equipped with a table, chairs and even a table cloth! Trekking usually involves blood, sweat and the odd tear for me, so I was simply blown away by this level of extravagance... a table cloth I tell you! For dinner we were provided with wine, and a three course meal which included flambéed fruit for pudding, all of which was served by a uniform wearing waiter!! The following morning we were awoken with a cup of tea in bed and a bowl of warm water to wash our faces in! This level of service continued each night and included rum and pop corn one evening and a traditional meal cooked in an oven in the ground, I don’t think I’ve eaten so well in the entire 8 months I’ve been travelling.

The trek we opted for started at a little town called Izcuchaca and ended four days later in Ollyantytambo, we reached an altitude of of 4,800 meters so despite being fed like kings each of us suffered with the height a little and when we finally reached our destination it was considered a great accomplishment by all members of the party. Along the trail we came across several children, whom would be sure to make the coldest of hearts melt with their little rosy cheeks and big brown eyes. Despite this being a pleasant encounter it did provoke an unspoken conflict within our group. Before we left our guide suggested we buy sweets to give to the kids along the way, according to her this is not permitted on The Inca Trail, as the kids have grown to expect this treat and spend their days waiting by the side of the trail for westerners to provide them with candy, but because our trail was relatively new it would be acceptable in this case. This didn’t really sit well with me as firstly, surely within time the same will happen on this alternative trail, and secondly these kids have no access to dental care, and you see more people with gold teeth in this country than you do real ones. In my opinion there are far more productive ways to relieve your guilt about being a wealthy gringo than to give a stranger’s child something that they do not actually need. I feel it can only be detrimental to a society to create a such an unmitigated relationship of giver and receiver, and already you see far too many children in South America begging because their mothers have tapped into the pull it has on our heart strings. On the other hand these children are incredibly cute and to see the look of glee on their faces when receiving a gift is something anybody would naturally want to be part of. But at what cost? The other issue I found a little difficult at times was the attitude of pity towards the local people our group seemed to have, and often remarks were made along the lines of “oh what a poor dear, what a horrible life she must lead”. To feel compassion when faced with these images is natural instinct but surely a better approach to seeing a women loaded down with goods to sell would be to respect her for being able to endure such a physically demanding life, to acknowledge these women's strength and honor them with some dignity?

Anyway enough of the moral dilemma. The following day we caught a bus up to Maccu Picchu at around 6am and proceeded to explore every nook and cranny of this Inca paradise. We climbed right up to Sun Gate to get the grand overview, hung out with a llama or two (employed to mow the grass) and even came across a squabbit, I say Squabbit because I’m not entirely sure what the creature was but I’m pretty sure his naughty squirrel mother may have been having relations with the rabbit milkman at the time of his conception! So now here's the lo down on Maccu Picchu itself, firstly it’s an absolute masterpiece of architecture, and far bigger and grander than I had ever imagined. The Incas started building it around AD 1430, which isn’t that old when you think the Tudors were around from about 1485! Only a hundred years later it was abandoned at the time of the Spanish conquest of the Inca Empire, however, unlike most Inca sights Maccu Picchu was never actually found by the Spanish and consequently not plundered and destroyed. Over the centuries, the surrounding jungle grew over much of the site, and few knew of its existence. However in 1911, Machu Picchu was brought to the attention of scholars by Hiram Bingham, an American historian who proceeded to do his own bit of pillaging, sending most of its contents back to the US. This is still an on going dispute as nearly 100 years later Peru still hasn’t got any of these artefacts back!

I have to be honest and say I didn’t have terribly high hopes for the actual site itself as it’s Peru´s number one tourist attraction, but I was blown away by its beauty. Just to give you an idea of the scale of its popularity, in 2008 The World Monuments Fund placed Machu Picchu on its Watch List of the 100 Most Endangered Sites in the world because of environmental degradation resulting from the impact of tourism.... oops! Although now there are strict limits to how many people are allowed to do the Inca Trail and how many people are allowed into the site per day, it seems only 30 years previously, revenue made from tourism was Peru´s primary concern as opposed to preserving the site. For example during the 1980s a large rock from Macchu Picchu's central plaza was moved out of its alignment to a different location in order to create a helicopter landing zone, helicopter landings were forbidden in the 1990s but still can you imagine us doing something like that to Stone Henge!

We finished our epic adventure with a cocktail in the local hot springs (not exactly backpacker behaviour but I took full advantage of my company’s more refined tastes!) Which we then followed up by sampling the local cuisine, Guinea pig! Now I know most of you will be questioning my dedication to vegetarianism right now, but I can assure you he was very small, and I only had a nibble on his arm... it was the cocktails I tell you, the cocktails! We also sampled coca leaf tea, and a drink made from distilled maize which is called chicha and in my opinion should only be drunk in desperate circumstances, second to the option of ones own urine!

The following day we moved swiftly on to Puno. We took this journey via a tour bus that Mum had booked from home, which we both agreed turned out to be a mistake. The tour bus took us to several sites of ´special interest´ along the way, none of which were particularly remarkable. This journey made me realise that as exhausting as public transport can be, it is also an essential way of really getting a feel for a country. I make no claims of understanding the cultures I’m exposed to fully, but if Peruvian culture was a book, then as a backpacker I’d have picked it up, felt its cover, and attempted to read its text even if I couldn’t quite decipher the language, as a tourist I felt as if I was allowed to peer at the book from behind a glass cabinet, press my palms against the cold glass, but ultimately get no closer. On reflection I suppose this is a silly analogy as in my opinion culture is fluid and ever changing, but the point I am trying to get across is how inaccessible Peru felt as your archetypal tourist.

While in Puno mum and I went on a tour of the various Islands, which surround Lake Titicaca, which left us with a similar taste in our mouths. Uros, aka The Floating Islands of Lake Titicaca have long been famed for their unique existence as a group of 42 or so artificial islands made of floating reeds, on which a population of people actually live. While these islands are fascinating, the detrimental effects of tourism are opaquely apparent. This industry is now clearly the island’s number one income with tour boats toing and froing each and every day, which is followed by the hard sell of products made on the islands, such as wall hangings and children’s toys. However despite my cynicism it has to be said that tourism is a much less labour intensive way to make a living than fishing, and so perhaps our curiosity isn’t solely detrimental. On the second Island we visited, Taquile we were met with a similar problem, when we were bombarded with children in traditional dress begging to have their picture taken with us for a small fee, something that would no doubt cause great alarm if it were to take place within our own country. Indeed there where many tourists posing with these children, as if they were some kind of exotic creature. If children learn that they can sell themselves at such a young age what happens to thier self worth when they get older and they are no longer considered cute, surely this can’t be a healthy way for a child to grow up. Still there lies the age old debate, does travelling and tourism do more harm than good? I’m not sure I’ll ever know the answer to that one.

God, looking back on this entry I realise its weighed down heavily with moral issues, and perhaps lacks a light hearted tail of buffoonery! Still I believe these issues need to be raised, because, as backpackers, we all have a certain amount of social responsibility to the countries we invade, on mass each year, that is too often over looked.