Peru: "Thank you for your Bisit"

Tribals and Llama paintings

 70 % of employment in Cusco revolves around the Tourist Industry. The aeroplanes bring in hundreds of Machu Pichu sight seekers, Inca Trail Hikers and Packaged Tours daily. Lovely Rosa, at the Hospedaje with the Purple Gate, escorted us to the local bus stop at 8am on Friday morning. We joined in with the students and workers catching the local bus into the centre of Cusco. There is a front door and back door to the bus, entrance and exit. People get on and only pay when you get off. The conductor leaps out the front, runs to the exit at the back to take your money, then dashes back to the front door to see who got on, just before the doors close. It’s a frantic rush backwards and forwards as well as taking money, giving change and shouting out the destination in a bid to attract more customers. For the cost of 1 sol (about 20p) we had a great 90 minute ride. By 9h30 the traffic was almost gridlocked and we were happy to get out of the bus and play Tourist for a Day. 

Dinner?

Coca Sweets 

Cusco Town Square

Shopping

city tour

 First stop, a Tour Shop, where we met agents who are Bear Grylls enthusiasts. The Machu Pichu expedition is a 9 hour round trip and the Inca trail is a few days overnighting at mountain huts . Explaining that our search was for something a bit less energetic, we were then given all the city tour options, which they didn’t do. We left their agency and were immediately approached by a ‘city tour touter’. The next 3 hours was very pleasantly spent sitting first on a luxury coach, being driven around Cusco, then transferring to an open top double decker where we toured the countryside to relaxing pan-pipe music. We saw Spanish Places of Worship, Inca Ruins, Plazas and Sculptures,all the while sucking the Coca Candy Sweets. No effort required to do anything except listen to Elvis, our tour guide. He was born into the Quecha Tribe, speaking his tribal language plus Spanish and excellent English. A surprise Blessing by an Andean Priests, complete with Shell Horn Trumpet and 3 Coca Smoke Wishes ended the tour, just as the rain came down. After a coffee back at base in the Town Centre we caught the 90minute bus back to Rosa. On the bus we sat behind a very old Peruvian lady wearing a very tall white TopHat, with a wide blue and bow. I studied both the hat and her long black plaits, which were braided with very thick black wool, ending in a complicated crochet/embroidery pattern joining the two ends together in a pretty loop. We also got chatting to some English University Students, reading Social studies, in the middle of their placement year (3^rd Year). They had already spent 7months in Peru, helping at various Social centres, flying between city centre venues, funded by a UK Charity. We explained that we got around on a motorcycle, riding between city centres, funded by ourselves. No comment.

in Cusco

Spanish buildings

Hummingbirds Galore

Inca ground floor,the Spanish stole the stones for their places of Worship

Inca foundations and Ground Level with Spanish on the 1st Floor

Lucky Clay Bulls on the Rooves

Natural dyes

Natural dyes

Woolly Species and Natural dyes

Need a Hat?

Silverware

Blessing Ceremony by Andean Priest

Goodies for Blessing and Buying

Huge sweetcorn with a slab of cheese

With the happy, relaxing day over, and tummies full of genuine Italian Pizza, it was early to bed in preparation for the next day’s ride to Abancay. With the bike packed and our strength returning slowly we followed the same bus route as the day before all the way into Cusco, taking less than the 90minutes by bus. Cusco is situated one of many Valleys, which means that to get out of it there are many steep roads leading in all directions. The Spanish language has indistinguishable differences between B’s and V’s, both written and spoken, which turns listening into pockets of surprises. Trying to ride out of Cusco, following Garmin and road signs became more and more difficult as the traffic intensified. There are NO Rules. Nobody gives way at the Round-abouts or Stop streets, everybody  GOES. We land up at a Stop street, at an incredibly Steep incline with a choice of 4 roads. 2 steep up or 2 steep down. We really don’t want to take the wrong one and enter the mayhem again. Other Drivers Hoot and Overtake. We are Frozen in an Undecision Zone.

And then a kind man in a little silver car pulls alongside: “ Are you going to Secret Balley”?

 “ No, Abancay”

“Ah, Avancay. Follow me”, he says

We follow the silver car, up and over and around , in and out, keeping close behind, not letting any other driver sneak in or push us away. It takes a gruelling 20 minutes. We could have been lost in Cusco forever, without this guy.

At the main route out he pulls over with flashes on. We ride next to his window. “Thank you, Thank you so much” we call through his open window. “You are a life-saver, thank you, thank you”, we say again.

He smiles shyly and says sweetly “Thank you for your bisit”.

With this delightful farewell we are on the road again.

Abancay in the distance ( 33kms/1000 metres down/2 hours away!)

Hairpins Galore

Elevation chart.

It is a sunny day, we are feeling strong, and the road is good. We wait for a bulldozer to clear a landslide and find a few stalls selling fresh mango, papaya, banana and oranges. It is so hot now we strip off the thermals in the primitive breeze-block-loo-with-a-view overlooking another Balley, wash down the instant fruit salad with some tea infusion and carry on. The landscape is ever changing, green, low down along a raging river, then soaring up high. At the top of one mountain we spot Abancay in the distance. It is only 33kms away. “Soon be there we rejoice,” but it takes 2 hours! We go round and round and down and down, dropping 1000 metres in altitude over many, many hairpins. B’s arms are breaking and I’m exhausted from hanging on. The entrance into Abancay is steep and downhill and we stop at the first hotel sign we see. It’s cheap and has a lock up parking garage. Perfect. We settle in to our room, flop on the bed, install a VPN on the phone and catch up with Formula 1 on Five Live.

“Can you smell smoke?” B asks. I get up and look out of the 2^nd Floor hotel window. “Nothing here!”, I say, just as the fire alarm screeches loudly in time with the Start of the Grand Prix. We grab the Passport bag and helmets and keys, scramble down the stairs and gather with the rest of the crowd in the street. The chimney of the restaurant next door to the hotel has caught alight, buckets of water are being poured down it, the electric cables are melted and the fire engine arrives 20 minutes later. So much for R&R with Radio Five Live.

The Hotel owner is very embarrassed and apologises for the interruption. He then goes out of his way to show us on his computer, the route out of Abancay and all the elevations and scenic attractions. The northern exit from Abancay is too risky, too many landslides and too many curves. His advice is to go South, 150 kms along the Balley Riber road aiming for Puquio, which is 300kms away at 1700 metres. We can't wait to get to a more acceptable altitude and away from these valleys and mountains, with only one way in and one way out. A trifle claustrophobic, especially as we are short of breath,  Health & Safety & fFre Hazards included, which adds to the sometimes overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

Coffee, bread, jam and cheese are included, so that’s what we have for supper and breakfast. Our altitude in Abancay is now 2300 metres and we are already feeling a lot vetter. 

Smoke alarms and Evacuation, we are staying in the Hotel behind

We take the River Valley Road, Not that road!