www.theblisspages.com - travel: Peru

Peru

Lima

When I first went to Peru, I remember being picked up from the airport and being taken straight to a bar on the coast, where I had my first introduction to a Pisco sour Grande. It was love at first sight, or at least taste!

Peruvian pisco is a grape brandy or aguardiente, distilled from fresh grape must. Pisco is transparent or slightly yellowish, with an alcohol content of about 42°. Pisscu means seagull in Quechua, the Inca language. It was also the name of a valley settled by descendants of the ancient Paracas culture. Here the local potters, also called piscos, crafted the large clay jars used to ferment chicha and other alcoholic beverages. The Spaniards baptized the grape brandy "pisco", as well as the port from where it was shipped, as shown on maps dating back to the late sixteenth century. Pisco exports reached their height between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Pisco varieties are defined by flavor and not aroma. There are four types, according to the ingredient used for their preparation: pisco acholado (distilled from several different grape varieties); pisco aromático (aromatic); pisco mosto verde (distilled from grape must that hasn't fully fermented) and pisco puro (made from non-aromatic grapes).

To make a Pisco sour, blend:

2 ounces pisco
1 ounce lemon juice
1 teaspoon icing sugar (or artificial sweetener if you're diabetic - sigh)
dash of bitters
1 egg white.

For a Grande, put more of everything in - but beware!

I was a little nervous at first wandering round the streets of Lima, but I never experienced any trouble. The food in Lima was very good and I particularly remember a Swiss restaurant specialising in Fondu (or was that in Equador? - memories dim after a few years!). There were also some very good Steak Houses.

On one trip I managed to get to the airport 24 hours early for my flight to Ecuador! Luckily my hotel room was still free, and I met up with a visiting colleague. We had a great day, with a bus tour round Lima, followed by tenpin bowling and a delicious meal.

Cusco

It was impossible to travel overland, due to the Shining Path guerrilla movement, so I took a flight to Cusco, 3360 metres above sea level. I booked into a backpacker's hostel, and took a tour round the city.

The tour included the truly impressive Inca fortress of Sacsayhuaman, the main ramparts of which comprise three massive parallel walls zig-zagging for some 400 metres.

The massive blocks, some as large as 8.5m high and weighing nearly 300 tons, are fitted together with amazing precision. With only ropes, stone hammers and bronze chisels it was a huge task. The chronicler Cieza de Leon, writing in the 1550's, thought that about 20,000 men had been involved in its construction. According to legend, nearly 3000 workers were killed when one huge stone being dragged uphill broke free.

Unfortunately, I developed a bad headache from the altitude, but this passed off after a day or so.

I wanted to walk the Inca Trail, but couldn't find anyone that was going, so I had the option of walking alone, hiring a guide, or giving up on this idea and taking a train.

Taking the sensible option, the next day I took the train from Cusco to the tiny town of Aguas Calientes, which was a pleasant and scenic journey through an series of switchbacks and loops, tunnels and track perched above swollen rivers.

At the end of the line, Aguas Calientes is at the bottom of a steep canyon, dominated by the cliffs towering towards the clouds above.

Machu-Picchu

On arrival at Aguas Calientes station, I decided, foolishly, to walk up the mountain instead of taking a bus. Bearing in mind the altitude and large backpack, this was not a sensible course of action.

I started trudging up the steep track, which kept cutting across the road which zig-zagged up the side of the mountain.

Several hours and a couple of thousand feet later, I beheld the ruins of Machu-Picchu. It was worth the effort. Walking around, the site was amazing. One minute, a sacrificial stone, then a stairway leading nowhere, then a llama. And the views...

There was a calm and peaceful atmosphere, so I indulged in an hour's meditation.

Feeling on top of the world, I decided in a foolhardy moment to walk up Waynu-Pichu, shown on the right.

I should have been warned by the book you had to sign before you were allowed to walk up, but I blithely carried on.

...on past the narrow ridge with precipitous drops on both sides.

On up the path clinging to the side of the mountain, so steep that there were ropes to assist my progress.

On past a stairway that was almost vertical, with steps about four inches wide and rising about a foot - only a complete loonie would go up there, I thought.

On through the narrow tunnel that emerges on the summit.

The views of Machu-Picchu were awesome and well-worth the effort involved in getting up there.

Then I tried to get down ... I couldn't find the tunnel I'd used to reach the top, and whenever I tried to find a way down, the slope steepened towards a nearly vertical drop of several thousand feet. Then it started to get dark. There was only one way I could see to get down ... Yes, it was down the steps I'd seen earlier! From the top, it seemed even more daunting than from below. I couldn't see any alternative, so down I headed.

The steps were too steep to go down backwards, so I went down forwards, facing the abyss. Looking past my shoes, I could see for thousands of feet. If I slipped, there was little chance my body would ever be found.

Eventually, I saw someone walking down the path past the bottom of the steps and called out. He waited for me as I inched down the rest of the slope, and we walked back to Machu-Picchu together.

back to Cusco

On the train back to Cusco, I got talking to a Peruvian, and on arrival, she took me to a local restaurant that served Cuy, a local delicacy, otherwise known as guinea-pig! They said it was off, but if we went to the bar next door for an hour or two, they would see what they could do.

Eventually, several drinks later, we went back, and lo, they had Cuy! As they served it up, spatchcocked, they revealed it was the waiter's son's pet guinea-pig. This was a bit off-putting, but I tried to enjoy it whilst it stared accusingly at me.

I'd like to say it was great, but I can't. It was slimy and stringy, and whilst I was eating I couldn't help thinking I'd rather be stroking it than eating it! I was especially repulsed when they tried to persuade me to eat the brain, which they said was the best bit!

I'm glad I tried Cuy though - if you don't try something, you'll never know whether you'll like it, whether it be snails, sea-urchin or chicken's feet.

See the poem I wrote celebrating my favourite restaurants round the world.

white-water rafting

I went white-water rafting on the Urubamba river, with APU Expediciones. We started between the villages of Urubamba and Ollantaytambo and travelled for about fifteen kilometres to Huairajpunku.

It was very exciting, with some of the biggest rapids I've ever experienced - grade 3 on a scale of 1-6, we were told. I remember in one series of rapids, there was a five feet vertical drop at one point. At the end, we were soaked, we were exhausted, but we were exhilarated!

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: : © Mike Bliss 2008