As we traveled through Peru and northern Chile, everything went wrong. Stoves exploded, tour guides abandoned us, and rain fell in San Pedro. Yet, we still had an incredible time exploring Arequipa, Cuzco, Arica, San Pedro, and even Calama (an unforeseen final stop on our marathon trek).
Arequipa
After spending a rough night being attacked by swarms of flies in the airport in Arica, we finally set off for Arequipa early on Friday morning. The trip itself, although long, was relatively uneventful. We crossed the Peruvian border, met a Peruvian history professor who recounted old Incan myths to us for the majority of our journey, and watched countless bad (and badly dubbed) movies as our bus traversed the Peruvian desert.
Upon arriving, we meandered through the historic city. The center consists almost entirely of old buildings constructed from white rock from the surrounding volcanoes. It seemed as if each narrow block featured its own elaborate cathedral and convent. For dinner, we tried a unique Peruvian delicacy: cuy or guinea pig. Slightly rico, but I’m not sure I’ll be eating it again anytime soon. After all, his head was still attached.
Athough still overtired from the overnight flight the night before, we climbed out of bed at 2:30 AM to board a bus to Colca Canyon, the deepest canyon in the world. Throughout the day, we saw Andean condors, enjoyed stunning views of the canyons, saw some old ruins, and otherwise enjoyed the trip through the lush valley. It was an incredibly calm day.
The night, however, was anything but serene. Shortly after returning to Arequipa, we began cooking dinner in our hostel. As the pasta boiled and the homemade sauce simmered, we relaxed nearby. Suddenly, a sharp bang jolted us from our seats. The glass part of the stove had somehow exploded from the heat and shards of glass covered the floor. Luckily, no one was hurt although the food wasn’t quite edible given the likelihood that some glass had found its way inside the pots.
The night improved drastically only a few hours later. As we sat chatting at a roof top bar, some random fireworks danced across the sky somewhere else in the city. Stunning.
The next day, we spent more time exploring the city. Whether visiting more religious sites, artisan fairs, or markets, everything was stunning. The one blemish on the day was the police officer brutally kicking a drunkard on a street corner. While I don’t necessarily condone the victim’s behavior, it was a painful reminder that two different worlds exist within Peru’s borders (and in many other, if not all, countries in this world): the tourist and the reality for thousands if not millions of impoverished individuals.
This message was further cemented that evening as we bussed to Cuzco. A fatal accident delayed our vehicle for nearly four hours. Due to ice, perilous mountain roads, and lack of local emergency services, it took several hours for help to arrive. Could lives have been saved if firefighters or EMTs were more readily available? I can’t accurately answer that question, but combined with my experiences while locked in the bathroom in Paraguay, I am increasingly glad that the United States boasts efficient emergency services (at least where I live). I haven’t, fortunately, ever needed to call 911 though, so I’m relying on the five minute response time promised by firefighters who lectured in our elementary schools.
Cuzco
Whenever tourists discuss traveling to Cuzco, it’s generally considered a given that they journey further into the sacred valley to visit Machu Picchu as well. Unfortunately, the archaeological site has been closed since mid-January due to heavy rains that destroyed most roads in the area. Although we grumbled about missing a location often described as stunning and incredible, the situation is far worse for the majority of Peruvians living in the surrounding villages. Without the constant flow of tourists they have no jobs and cannot provide for themselves and their families, as demonstrated by the protest we witnessed our final day in the city.
Even without Machu Picchu, we were never bored while in Cuzco. We spent countless hours meandering through the narrow streets scaling the mountainsides, perusing through shops boasting Incan artwork and crafts, and dancing la salsa. The first night, we stumbled upon some salsa lessons and a discoteca where we would spend far too many hours during the next few nights with some newfound Peruvian friends.
This schedule proved exhausting; we still stumbled out of bed early in the morning in order to explore the city. One morning, we enlisted a local guide to take us to the various Incan ruins that dot the Andes mountains on horseback. After spending roughly on horseback, we finally reached Pukara and Tambochay. Our guide promised to stay with the horses while we wandered through the ruins. Unfortunately, it began raining and he vanished (unbeknownst to us at the time, the tour was temporarily suspended due to the inclement weather. Lost deep in the Andes Mountains, freezing cold, and soaked, we eventually located a minibus and retreated to Cuzco in order to dry off and find some coffee to chase away the chill.
The next few days included treks up to Cristo Blanco to see the city, an improved Incan dance performance on a mountain top, perusing dozens of artisan shops, lounging around in the plaza and watching a demonstration, dinner with Gaby (whose currently studying in Cuzco), stalking Amilcar, and finally joining him for coffee and a long chat on the American influence in the city. And lots and lots of salsa. Although we spent more time in Cuzco than any other city on our trip, I can say with certainty that we were definitely not ready to leave.
Arica
When initially planning our journey, we expected a marathon bus trip from Cuzco to San Pedro de Atacama lasting about 27 hours. Fortunately, our plans changed slightly and we broke up the trek into two more manageable segments lasting 17 and 10 hours respectively and spent a day relaxing in Arica, Chile. Or, more specifically, lounging around on the beach in this city on the shore before embarking on the next leg of our trip.
While we did not actually feel it, an earthquake measuring 8.8 on the Richter Scale rattled Chile while we dozed on the bus. We learned of it upon our arrival in San Pedro, but did not understand the magnitude of what had occurred until much later than evening (which explains why we failed to contact anyone in the US for several hours). Luckily, all of our host families and friends survived the disaster unharmed. My family’s washing machine even managed to fix itself as it shook on the balcony.
San Pedro de Atacama
Our final planned destination on the trip was a well-known tourist mecca deep in the Atacama desert. Unlike previous stops, we could not explore this city and the surrounding area on our own. Due to the immense, uninhabited expanses separating the city from various attractions, we had to enlist guides. We were not thrilled to lose some of our freedom, but it actually proved an excellent experience as we met interesting characters from across the globe.
The first night, we journeyed to Valle de la Luna. Unfortunately, as we wandered through the stunning rock and salt formations, it began to rain. Or maybe it wasn’t so unfortunate…as this is truly a remarkable occurrence in the Atacama Desert. It is, after all, the driest desert in the world and it only rained once in 2009 and never even rained in 2008.
After the brief shower, we continued meandering through the rocks, sampling the ample quantities of salt, and enjoying the views of the distant volcanoes. Eventually, the sun began to set and we perched on a rock ledge to watch the sun fall beneath the horizon and the sky and rocks turn a dazzling array of colors.
The next morning, we embarked on a trip to the Salar de Atacama and Lagunas Antiplanicas. The Salar de Atacama is an endless expanse of salt broken up by some small rivers and highways teeming with wild llamas and flamingos. After exploring a small portion of the salar (it is the third largest in the world), so hoped back into the vans and began a rapid ascent. Within two hours, we were thousands of meters above sea level and enjoyed a stunning walk along the shores two shimmering lakes. Nearby, volcanoes scrapped the sky while vicunas (llama-esque creatures frolicked in the field). Too soon, we began our descent and stopped in two tiny villages (Socaire and Tocanao) before returning to San Pedro.
Although tired from our trip, we again crawled out of bed at an ungodly hour to visit the Tatio Geysers Monday morning. As the boiling streams of water are most active between 6:00-8:00 AM, we arrived at the site early enough to view sunrise through the mist. Although we admittedly grumbled a bit about leaving at 3:30AM, it was definitely worth the early trek, if only to hear our Bolivian guide tell Ayamaran legends throughout the trip.
Calama
We initially planned to return to Santiago on Monday; however, due to the earthquake, cancelled flights, and an endless stream of worried emails from Tufts and our parents in the United States, we decided to stay in the desert for a few extra nights. Although we enjoyed our time in San Pedro, we moved to they nearby town of Calama due to communication difficulties when we were in the tourist mecca.
After waiting in several interminable lines that spilled into the street at the airline’s office, we finally rescheduled our flight for Thursday evening. In the meantime, we relaxed in the plazas, wandered through the down town area, and enjoyed far too much standard Chilean fare. We were all eager to return home and see our families, but the downtown was an excellent opportunity to unwind and catch up on all the sleep lost while sitting on overnight buses, salsa-ing until dawn, and arising before dawn for various tours.
We finally returned to Santiago Thursday evening. Luckily, we left Calama about 20 minutes before this city was rattled by another earthquake measuring 7.2 on the Richter Scale. A few hours later, after passing through an airport consisting of tents, we had finally arrived in Santiago and were soon shaking ourselves as the still-frequent aftershocks continued to unnerve the city.
Pictures have, of course, been posted on Picasa.
"My family’s washing machine even managed to fix itself as it shook on the balcony." :)
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