Gotta Go to Crazy Cuzco

After a seven-and-a-half-hour bus ride from Puno, we arrived in Cuzco, once the capital of the Inca Empire. We travelled with Transzela on one of their VIP buses. VIP is a euphemism for a bus that is in working order and it isn't a rust bucket on wheels. We both agreed that we would trade our jobs to be the hostess of the bus. She poured a few drinks and turned on the TV and then spent the rest of the journey lazing around in the back of the bus. Oh, she did get up to change the movie on the TV too! She'd obviously moved from short-haul to the long-haul journeys and was lapping it up VIP-style, forgetting that she was supposed to be the one waiting on the passengers.

Throughout our five-day stay in Cuzco, there were two constants: rain and crazy drivers. The rain did not deter us from experiencing the sights and sounds of the city. The loco drivers, the second constant, kept us on our toes as they drove as if they were playing a real-life version of Carmageddon, mowing down pedestrians as they walked across the roads. The drivers certainly didn't slow down and instead sped-up. No doubt, it would be double points for striking down a gringo.

On our second day, we set out to explore the historic centre of the city, with its colonial style buildings. Before the thunderstorm interrupted, we wandered around the narrow laneways and the Plaza de Armas. Somehow we ended up in a biker's pub without knowing it. There, we met two Peruvian guys, Carlos and Tony, who didn't look like they rode a motorbike, although who knows what they did in their spare time. After a drink, and riding out the storm in the biker's pub, we ventured back home, a thirty minute walk from the centre of town. But not before stopping off at our new home, Torta, a cake shop situated less than a hundred metres from our accommodation. Also, for the first time, we got to try Inca Kola, marketed to the locals as a unique favour with a name that conjures up images of their Inca ancestors. But in reality, it is just (yellow/golden) creaming soda with a Coca-Cola marketing twist.

The following day, we picked-up on our adventures from the day before and ended-up at Qoriancha, which was once an Incan temple but was destroyed by the Spanish conquistadors and converted into a Christian church. Our pick-a-path adventure then lead us to one of the most important stones in Peru, the Twelve Angled Stone. And in true Cusqueño style, the sky opened up and pelted down rain, leaving us to take refuge in the nearby museum entrance. What better way to spend the rest of the afternoon but to graze our way home, taking shelter when needed.

Our previous drinking habits had turned into eating habits, with most days centred around what new tastes we could discover: Inca kola, churros and cake. On our third evening, we caught up with Dave and Terrie, a Canadian couple who we had met in Mendoza. They introduced us to their new American friend, Sam, the animal conservationist, who entertained us over dinner with tales of his travels to exotic parts of the globe. Of course, the discussion, at one point, focussed on Australians overseas and US politics. Insert Donald Trump jokes here (and jokes about drunken, dumb Aussies). And of course Canada stayed neutral!

The following day, we met up again with Dave and Terrie and hung out for the afternoon. The first priority was to find food, and luckily they like to indulge as much as us. Dave desperately needed to get a haircut, as advised by his personal stylists, Jason and Terrie. So after lunch we headed to hairdresser street for Jason to check out the talent and give his seal of approval, as if he was sweaty Betty, the Queen of England (Australia and Canada). A hip and happening salon was selected and Dave was primed for his Cuzco cut. Jason, Ricky and Terrie sat back and observed the shenanigans that were going on in the salon, as the barbers cut hair and watched a Peruvian-style Jerry Springer on TV. Then, out of nowhere a loud bang was heard. A couple of the boys muttered something in Spanish to which Jason replied in perfect Spanish some expletives that shan’t be mentioned. The response from the barbers was priceless. Clearly, they were not expecting such language from a gringo. Let's put it this way, if Jason was given a report card on his Spanish it would go something like this: “Jason has improved his Spanish communication skills but has exceeded all of his classmates in mastering expletives and offensive language.”

Ricky decided that if Jason was a Little Miss character that he would be called Little Miss Potty Mouth or Little Miss White Privilege. When Jason had used up all of his mobile data on his phone, Ricky thought that it was the end of the world for Little Miss White Privilege. Not another day could go by without internet access while out and about. There might be an emergency (on Facebook or Instagram)! Heaven forbids if one of Jason's posts went viral and he was unaware of it. But after five days in the Inca capital, connected to the worldwide web, it was time to move on and to delve deeper into the Sacred Valley of the Incas in search of our next adventure.

Next stop: Ollantaytambo.もっと詳しく