15 May 2003, Cusco
Above: My Timotei moment
Wow, wow, wow. The last two weeks, on the archaeological expedition, have been just amazing. We had one week at base camp, followed by a week´s trekking our way across the Vilcabamba, and every single day brought new challenges and achievements. It´s been special.
For the archaeological bits, check out the expedition website at www.x-journal.com/journal/inca. You´ll see that we were absolutely gobsmacked by the extent of our success. Almost too much of a good thing.
The trek was pretty gobsmacking too, through some of the most spectacular scenery the Andes can offer. It was physically quite tough, involving lots of steep uphill walking, but we had a fantastic team of arrieros, who would go ahead with the mules and set up camp so that by the time we trailed in, footsore and weary, the tents would be up and the kettle on.
It was quite alarming how quickly I went feral and adapted to life in camp. Normal concerns with trivial things like body odour disappeared very early on. Day 1, our mules couldn´t make it across a narrow rope bridge, so we had to shoulder our baggage and carry it a mile or so - instant sweat saturation. Then the next day it rained - total mudbath. Mud became the new black.
It wasn´t all that easy to get clean, just a small bowl of hot water twice a day, for a flannel bath starting at the top and working down. The best wash I had was when I had a Timotei moment and jumped into a pool under a three-tier waterfall. Seemed like a good idea for the first 3 seconds, until I realised just how freezing cold the water was. Staggered out considerably less smelly, but with an achingly cold head.
But it wasn´t all back to earthy basics. We did still have life´s bare necessities, like the morning cuppa of coca tea brought to our tents, and vodka martinis before dinner every evening.
Speaking of coca, I got quite into coca-chewing, which is meant to ward off fatigue and hunger. I remain to be convinced, as all the fresh air and exercise totally cured my insomnia and gave me a raging appetite, but maybe I just wasn´t chewing enough, my ladylike little wad looking rather amateurish compared with the hamster-cheeks of some of our arrieros.
Now back in Cusco, attempting to readjust to civilisation and hot & cold running water. Took my dirty washing to the laundry this morning - they deserve danger money for going anywhere near that vile-smelling pile.
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02 May 2003, Cusco
The view from my hostel in Cusco. I don´t even want to talk about how many steps I have to go up to get there... at altitude, too.
This may be my last journal update for a little while - tomorrow I start the expedition proper, heading off into the Sacred Valley, and I don´t know where or when I will next find an internet cafe.
Some of my team are up in a plane today, doing a recce of our research area with the thermal imaging camera. I would have loved to be up there too, although it might be a bit hair-raising.
I don´t think our cameraman was entirely happy at the prospect of going up in a single-engine plane with no door, flying very low over mountains at absolutely the minimum speed it can do without stalling, while being buffeted around by swirling winds and thermal updraughts. Funny, that.
Those of you who know them may be interested to know that I´m seeing Julian and Celina Hamm for a quiet beverage or two this evening. They´ve just arrived in Cusco on their trip around the world. One of the expedition guys bumped into them in Miami airport yesterday. They got talking and found out they all knew me. Small world.
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01 May 2003, Cusco
Life continues to be a contrast between luxurious freebies and gritty reality. From being frozen to death on the cargo train, to sheer decadence in Inka Class on the Puno-Cusco train, from a fantastic dinner at El Monasterio (poshest hotel in Cusco), back to a shared (mixed sex!) dorm, with the loo across the courtyard, in a hostel appropriately located next door to the convent.
Cusco is great, very mellow, although we foreign johnnies must number nearly as many as the locals.
Have also now met up with my expedition team. I HAD been quite proud of my early morning yomp up to the Inca ruins on a hill high above the town (see photo above, of big stone, little me)... until I found out that Gary Ziegler (60 years young) runs up there on a regular basis. Can´t be natural!
This morning the team were getting to grips with the thermal imaging camera that we´re going to take up in a little single engine plane to recce for ruins - they were all looking at the monitor, and pointing the camera at me. Then they all start laughing, and I realise the camera was pointing at my chest. John Leivers says, ´Aha, now we can see what you´re made of´, which makes me very worried indeed!
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27 Apr 2003, Puno
I am now in Puno, after a rather unique journey, thanks to my friends at PeruRail.
Started off normally enough - overnight bus from Lima to Arequipa, about 16 hours. Spectacular scenery, marred only by the knowledge that 20 people have died in 2 coach crashes on that road... in just the last 2 weeks. Sincerely hoped things wouldn't come in threes.
Had to whizz through Arequipa, but will be going back there for longer at a later stage. My deadline was the 10pm departure of a cargo train for Juliaca, which I had to catch if I was going to make my connection to Cusco.
It's not normal practice for the average punter to be allowed on a cargo train. OK, so most people might not WANT to spend 10 hours on a deafeningly noisy cargo train, mostly in the pitch dark, with no heating, no seat, and most alarmingly, no toilets. There were moments in the wee (no pun intended) small hours when I really thought I had gone loco getting on this loco. But then the dawn came, and the world became a rosier place, literally. We were high up in the Andes, the air breathtakingly clear in the dawn sun, wildlife all around, blue, blue lakes and rolling mountains.
As we got nearer to civilisation, I went to sit on the platform at the very front of the train, so my toes were the foremost point of our locomotive plus 17 freight cars, the track whizzing by beneath my feet. I saw doughty Andean women plodding alongside the track in their characteristic outfits of bowler hats and voluminous petticoats, and little children waving to us as we trundled past.
As we got into Juliaca, there appeared to be a market in full swing, right across the railway line. Our driver was going crazy on the bell and air horn to try and avoid casualties. I was still standing at the front rail, and it was interesting to watch people's reactions - they don't get many tourists here, as it's not the most attractive of places, and they didn't know quite what to make of this pale stranger. Or maybe it was my clothes they were staring at - it had been bitterly cold during the night, and I was wearing just about everything I had. Some people just stared, some waved, some pointed and laughed. And I don't know what came over me, but I starting giving it the full wave-and-smile, wave-and-smile treatment. No matter that I looked like the back end of a bus - I was on the front end of a train and felt like a filmstar! I just about held myself back from blowing kisses... The people were lovely (or confused) - some looked at me like I was mad, but most waved and smiled back.
Almost without exception, I've found the Peruvians warm, helpful and friendly, and the image of that marketplace stands out for me as one of my favourite memories so far.
(Photos to follow when I get teched-up in Cusco.)
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