Perusing

After nearly two weeks in Peru I think I have been able to gather enough information to form some sort of report on the place. Peru is a very intriguing place bubbling with life and action.

One of the factors that contributes to the intrigue are the Peruvians themselves. The reality is they don’t know if they are Arthur or Martha. They are kind of Quechua, kind of Inca and they kind of hate the Spanish but yet at the same time most of them technically are at least half Spanish. They have more of a racial identity crisis than Michael Jackson’s face.

Daylight hours also mess with people here. No thought or consideration has been given to adopting daylight savings. The result is broad daylight at 5.30am and darkness at 5:30 pm every night. Sleeping in is certainly out of the question, especially in a tent. If I lived here I would invest in some black out curtains. Having said that even if you managed to keep the light out the racquet of the hundreds of wild dogs would get you anyway.

The Spanish blood is very evident in Peruvians when it comes to their work ethic. This is generalising of course as some Peruvians actually work and even Spaniards like Fernando Torres achieve a lot for noble causes. But for the most part on any given day Peruvians are having some kind of festival, of which I am told there are over 270 per year throughout the country, or they are on strike.

The 1980’s ski jacket is a very popular fashion item here. I had not seen one in real life. Only in really old ski posters, which seem to exist in every travel shop in NZ. Did somebody ban making ski posters after 1988? It is also rather strange to see the local women in the highlands dressed traditionally in their little 16th century Spanish layered dresses which they have not bothered update or in anyway modify to make them slightly more suited to the alpine environment in which they live. They look very quaint though I have say and should someone throw a spare of the moment fancy dress party they would be well prepared.

The food here is reasonable priced and pretty good but we don’t dare eat from the roadside vender/gutter restaurants that the locals seem to have no problem having a crack at. For some reason tonight being out last night we didn’t even opt for local delicacy. We had Chinese for some reason …… we must be getting home sick I guess.

Jungle Book

The next chapter in our travels sore us the next day heading to the manu national park on mountain bikes, staying in a eco lodge in the Amazon basin. We were to take part in a lot of down hill mountain biking, which for my heart rate and thighs was a good thing. But as far as my wrists and Gooch were concerned the second day was like riding a horse with a concrete saddle.

We biked with a guide (Daniel) who’s English was good enough that he even had a sense of humour. The only thing more miraculous than being able to have a good laugh with our Peruvian guide was being able to have one with our German support crew driver (Jorg).

Both of the guys were fantastic and were very passionate about nature. The jeep would sometimes be brought to a slamming halt because an Alpaca was sniffing some Lama poo. When they spotted an Animal of interest they were like a bunch of computer technicians when Halo 3 came out; levels of excitement and joy that are only warranted if you really have no life at all.

The first night we camped on top of a ridge overlooking the Amazon. The view was quite something. It was cold though I might add and whilst our guides seemingly knew everything about the birds, bees, plants surviving in the jungle they had no idea how to construct a fire. Daniel was trying to get a pile of rather damp blue gum logs going with a piece of paper the size of a bus ticket. Realising a fire was as likely to happen as vegan women shaving her arm pits we quickly took control of the situation and got it sorted.

The second day was 50km of back jolting, wrist breaking and sperm count lowering on a road best described as not good*. At the bottom we had a short 15 minute hike up to the eco lodge. The Amazon jungle was incredible. It seems like everything is alive. You step off the track onto a thick bit of grass and the whole ground moves as hundreds of insects and frogs jump and scurry away. When we went for hikes Smithy would take charge of the camera and ask me to walk in front on the off chance that if I was attacked by a Jaguar at least he could get it a great shot or perhaps a video to stick on utube. At once stage I noticed he had managed to hang a piece of raw meat on the back of my shorts to try to spice things up.

We asked the guides what animal was to be most feared in the Jungle. Surprisingly it was not the Jaguar, the Anaconda or even the Piranha but a very small fish called the Penis fish. This fish apparently lives in the water and is attracted to urine and if it gets the chance swims up the end of your willey causing quite some discomfort. Often having to be surgically removed. How much more effecitve would it work if teachers told boys if they want to pee in the school pool that the Penis fish might get them instead of the old special chemical that turns red myth. Needless to say that washing nude or going commando at any stage in case those little suckers can jump, was completely out of the question.

* other terms were used at the time such as “whoever maintains this road is a loser” ,“hang on a minute I am paying to ride a bike down this road” and “this is bloody ridiculous”,

Lares Bars

The last morning of our 3 day stay in Cusco we were woken at 5am, (before even the pigeon gun had a chance to go off ) to head off on the Lares trek. This is an alternate track to the Inca trail. We like everyone we met on the track did not opt for this deliberately but because we did not book early enough to get a place on the Inca trail.

Tramping offers one plenty of time to ponder and I walked up Lares valley on the first day I was found myself astounded that that 95 % of earths population see the whole world as a big rubbish bin. Whilst it was not astounding that 95% Peruvian males see the whole of Peru as a big urinal, it was a little surprising that very little effort ever seems to be made to conceal the fact that one is relieving themselves. It’s pretty much like paying by visa people just flop it out everywhere.

Our guide Harry or Henry, we are still not exactly sure was a great guy but unfortunately his English was about as good as the average NZ taxi driver so it was hard to make a lot of sense of what he was saying. Our cook was fantastic, serving up Alpaca in many different ways trying to disguise it as beef. Our horseman seemed nice but had the people skills of Quechua tribesman who had lived his whole live in a remote Andean community spending most of his time with horses and Alpaca’s.

The highlight of the tack was a game of soccer with some young (aged 7-9) locals in Huacahuasi. We played a small game of 3 vs 3. Smithy and I teamed up with one of the locals, but for us it was always going to be a very tough away fixture. We were playing at an altitude of 3800 M and the pitch had a number of pot holes, large rocks and piles of animal defecation. The goal of the match came after Smith made a dashing run down the side line, was able to fend off one of the small children and cut back inside another, he then sent in perfect cross which Churchill volleyed home between the rocks to give us a two goal lead. Our third team member who’s most significant contribution to the match until that point had been to flop his willey out and piss all over the pitch then proceeded to pick up hand fulls of lama crap and shower us with it. The locals came back to win 3-2 despite only scoring twice with some Spanish counting helping them out. Nevertheless it was a good match.

The trip finished with us climbing Machu Pichu, which is one of those places everyone should go to. It is hard really to describe but perhaps by stating that despite their being thousands of other tourists (including Americans and the French) the place did not loose its mystery and magnificence. The views are amazing and it is just staggering to think that these little punters could build something like it.

PS: I would be very intrigued to know how is it that ‘a lot’ is two words ‘at least’ is two words ‘of course’ is two words but ‘nevertheless’ managed to somehow whack itself together to be one. If anyone can shed some light on the matter I would be delighted to hear an explanation.