We arrived in rainy Bogota without money or a clue but the beautiful green mountains took my breath away and I knew I'd fallen in love, again. Asking around for the best place to stay we finally found our way to an artsy neighborhood in the city called the Candelaria and a small hostel where only artisans and street performers are welcome. Despite the chilly weather and no hot water in the house, the owner was welcoming and helpful and gave us a room at a fair price. The day after we arrived Eleise flew in to join us. She started learning how to make jewelry right away so she could fund her trip and sell with us. The only problem was - we couldn't sell ANYTHING. Arturo and I would walk the streets all day long and we couldn't sell even the smallest bracelet or simplest pair of earrings. It was tough. Tough on our spirits, tough emotionally, and mostly tough on our relationship. I was getting worn out, tired of not knowing how we would pay for a place to stay one day to the next or where we would get food from, and depressed at being in such an amazing place and not being able to enjoy it because I was working all day every day. It was nice to have Eleise there and she even lent us money so we could all get on the road to our next destination.
Eleise only had come for two months to travel before heading back to Australia. I, with everything as stressful as it was, decided I wanted to head back to the US for the summer and work to save up a little money before returning to South America to travel more. We decided to use the two months we had to travel quickly south through Colombia, Ecuador and along the northern coast of Peru to make it to a big festival in Cusco in June. Our first stop was a tiny pueblo called San Agustin that was recommended by some friends. We got there in time to celebrate Eleise's birthday at the end of April, unfortunately in such a small town there wasn't much of a selection of places to party and we ended up at our hotel with a bottle of rum for Eleise to tackle alone. We took a day to hike and explore the surrounding area, but were forced to leave quickly... with no tourists around there is no one to sell to.
We took a bus to Cali, 'The Capital of Salsa', the next largest city on our way south. After searching for hours we found a cheap, and rather disgusting, hotel near the main square. Luckily here, we were able to sell a bit on the streets. The police wouldn't allow us to put anything on the ground, but we walked around with bracelets and earrings and were able to pay for food and a place to stay. At night we would walk to the side of town where all the bars and clubs are and sell in front of a little restaurant where no one gave us any trouble. Now and then we would even be offered leftovers by the people eating outside. After a week or so in Cali, we made friends with a couple of artisans who rented us a room in their home. It was a little ways out of the city but was a really nice place. They often made food for us and we were more than happy to get out of the dingy, flea ridden place we were in. When we had earned enough for the a bus ticket and had thoroughly overstayed our welcome we said our goodbyes and took a long bus ride across the southern border and all the way to Quito, the capital of Ecuador.
I didn't know what to expect of Ecuador and was therefore pleasantly surprised by the capital city. It has almost a colonial European style, it was clean and cute and - finally a break - less expensive than Colombia. It was also strange to be using American money. There, a dime is actually worth something - we would haggle with strangers over a nickel, and keep track amongst each other who owed who how many pennies! We had a lot of fun in the touristic part of town where all the bars and restaurant are and were able to make a little money even. Since time was running out quickly however we couldn't stay as long as we would have liked and we took another overnight bus to the border where we dealt with customs and visas to get into Peru again, then went to Mancora.
Since first arriving in Peru months earlier, Arturo and I had been hearing about Mancora. We were told it was great place to party and an even better place to sell. We arrived at low season and were able to find a cheap hostel that had private bungalows with clean beds, free internet and use of a kitchen. The one downside were the mosquitoes so we lathered on the bug spray and rigged our mosquito nets above the beds. All along the main road in Mancora there are bamboo stands set up year round. During the low season, the permanent vendors hit the road and those of us traveling are able to set up and sell without fear of being kicked out or fined. Yes, there were fewer tourists - but there were still tourists. We quickly made enough money to pay back Eleise what we owed her and were able to live more than comfortably in the small beach community. We found a great little restaurant around the corner from the hostel called Larry's and we ate there every single night for the two weeks we stayed in Mancora; needless to say we got to know Larry very well, and I doubt very much that anyone in the world can make better ceviche or chaufa than he can. We all probably would have been happy to sit in the sun on a beautiful beach, relax, eat well and sleep well there in Mancora for several more weeks, but there was more to see before our flights left from Lima. So we hit the road and went to Trujillo.We got to Trujillo in the evening, found a cheap hotel and a cheap meal and slept like babies. In the morning we went to explore and when we got to the Plaza de Armas, or main square, there were hundreds of people in preparation for a Corpus Christi celebration. Each group was forming colored sawdust into huge, unique pictures on the asphalt all the way around the square. There was a large stage on one side with a lot of flowers and decorations all around it. In the evening, thousands gathered for mass before important members of the Catholic church carried something representing the body of Christ around the circle destroying all of the carefully constructed drawings of sawdust. It was interesting to say the least. We stayed in Trujillo for a couple of days, and unable so sell anything went to the nearby beach Huanchaco. There we found a nice place to stay with television and everything for very cheap. We were comfortable, but since winter was coming there were few visitors to the beach and once again we had a difficult time selling anything. So, we left quickly and went straight to Lima.
For the third time in six months, we stayed in the same hotel in Barranco that rents by the hour, and sold on the same steps to the bridge. We stayed a few days then took another nightmare bus ride to Cusco via Arequipa, this one only took us about 25 hours... We rented a room near San Blas with the same family we had stayed with the time before. The next day, after much debate, Arturo decided to stay behind and sell while Eleise and I took a trip to Machu Picchu.
After a stop at the market, a few wrong turns and a five hour wait, we boarded a bus at 8 pm and arrived in Santa Teresa at 3 am. Wide awake with the excitement of the trip but not having slept at all, we used the 'Public Bathrooms' (or holes in the dirt) and ate the rest of our candy (the only food we had thought to bring) while we waited for a conbi to come that we could take for the next leg of the trip. There were very few people but we made friends with a very nice Colombian guy who was planning on taking the same cheap route that we were. When it finally showed up, the driver tried to charge us double the price we knew it should be and we stood our ground for two and half hours before he lowered the price 3 sols (about 97cents US) and we happily boarded the taxi van. We arrived in Santa Maria around 6:30 am just as the sun was rising over the hills. The Colombian asked to join us on our trek and we agreed. He was good company and had a camera - mine sadly had stopped working two days prior. We ate arroz ala cubana at the market and took another conbi to the Hidroelectrica to start our walk along the railroad tracks to get to Aguas Calientes at the base of the mountain that hides Machu Picchu on her peak.
We set off at a good pace through the gorgeous valley, winding along the river and taking our time. When the sun was stronger we stopped to play in the cold water and on the giant boulders of granite. We didn't stay too long however because we were soon aware that we were being attacked by tiny red and yellow biting bugs. At first they didn't hurt, they were just annoying and left a small spot of blood on our skin, but nothing more. So we continued on our, what should have been, three hour hike - moving slower and slower as our lack of sleep caught up to us.
We got to Aguas Calientes as the sun was disappearing behind the mountain. We plopped down on a bench on the edge of town and I wished aloud that someone would walk by and tell us to follow them to the cheapest hostel in town. Just then, a younger guy walking by stopped and told us that he's the owner of the cheapest hostel in town and if we needed a place to stay he'd be happy to take us. By this time the bug bites were unbearably itchy and tiredness had overtaken us, so we dragged ourselves up the hill to his hostel and gratefully rented rooms. After casually mentioning to the owner that I am an artisan, he smiled and without thinking twice or asking if I wanted it, he pulled a bundle of weed out of his pocket and passed me a handful saying 'oh, here then, take this...'. Not wanting to seem ungrateful I pocketed it to give to Arturo later on.
Eleise and I took a nap, later got food at the market, then slept again. The tiny drops of blood that the tiny bugs had left had turned into giant, puss/venom-filled bites. My legs from the knees down were swollen to the size of my thighs. Eleise's were the same. They were lumpy and sore and we could hardly walk. Nevertheless, we left the hostel at 3 am with the Colombian, a small bottle of water, no food, no camera and a tiny dim flashlight that I happened to have in my bag. We were unprepared to say the least. Halfway up the steep mountain path we encountered another hiker stumbling blindly along that joined our group. It was so dark we couldn't see each others faces but the four of us somehow made our way up the mountain using the tiny bit of light given off by my almost dead flashlight. About 20 minutes from the top the sun was finally giving off enough light to see without it. The Colombian took off at his own pace and the other, more elderly, hiker fell behind. Eleise and I arrived at the gates to the site at about a quarter to six - shortly before Machu Picchu is allowed to have visitors.
We were two of only about six tourists waiting to enter and excited to be there before the crowds would arrive. At exactly five minutes to 6 am, ten buses full of tourists, well fed, well dressed and well rested, showed up to the gates with more buses lining up behind. Talk about disappointment! We had to scramble to get a place near the front of the line. Fortunately we were smart when we entered and headed the opposite direction of all the tourist groups. We lost the crowds and were able to wander around the ruins for several hours before seeing other tourists. It was amazing! We had so much fun making up stories about the Incans that once lived there and what everything was once used for. When we really wanted our questions answered we asked the guards and groundskeepers, or now and then hung around a tour group.
Stupidly we hadn't brought any food with us and had very little money at one of the world's most touristic sites. Kindly, one of the workers told me about a cheap kitchen down the road where all the employees get their meals. We went there for a 5 sol menu. We explored the ruins the entire day, stopping often to sit and relax, enjoy the scenery, laugh at silly tourists or silly llamas, or lament the broken camera. On one such occasion I said to Eli, "I wish someone would walk up to us and say 'Hey, you guys look like you need a camera, would you like to use mine?'" She laughed at me and said that things like that don't happen. Just then, a younger Peruvian guy walked up with his camera and asked if I could take a picture of him and his wife - they were on their honeymoon. I said sure and when I took the camera Eli started laughing hysterically and pointed out that the camera was the same as mine. After the picture we talked to the couple and asked if I could put my memory card in their camera while they took our photo, to at least have something to document our time there. They were more than happy to oblige, and even invited us to tag along and use the camera as often as we like. Eli, things like that DO happen. As the park was closing, and the sun disappeared behind the peaks, we began our hike down the mountain. Despite our empty stomachs and swollen legs we had smiles on our faces and wished for more time in this sacred hidden city.
We reached the bottom an hour and half later and decided to rent the room once more before heading back to Santa Maria and the Hidroelectrico. At 4 am we set off in the dark once again, this time racing the clock to arrive at 7 am for the taxis at the same time as the tourist train. We beat it by a few minutes exhausted and out of breath. The trip back to Cusco was long and short on money we had to beg the bus driver to give us a spot in the aisle for free. We arrived in the evening with one thing on our minds - a hot shower. Back at the house, we waited impatiently for hours before the unreliable water came on. It last 20 minutes and was lukewarm, only enough time for Eleise to clean up a bit. I wasn't so lucky and a few hours later found myself in tears after a huge fight with Arturo at a public bathroom, paying to have a 'guaranteed' hot shower. Two minutes into it and covered in soap the gas ran out and the attendent informed me that there would be no hot water until the next day. I finally found humor in it all and rinsed with ice water. Shivering to death I dressed quickly in clean clothes and ate some food at 9pm for the first time all day.
We stayed in Cusco for a few more days and enjoyed the nightlife. Arturo and I said our tearful goodbyes with promises that I would meet him later in Argentina. Eli and I boarded the cheapest bus we could find and were meant to arrive in Lima 22 hours later. The bus turned out to be the biggest piece of junk I've ever ridden in. No TV was only the start. It smelled awful, the toilet didn't work, there was no heat and and inch of ice lining the inside of the windows, it broke down more times than I care to remember, and of course the next day when the sun finally rose and beat down on us through the windows that wouldn't open - there was no a/c. Needless to say it was quite a ride. We finally made it to Lima many hours later than scheduled and got off on the outskirts of town to catch another bus to Barranco. It was dark out and while standing in an area where there are sure to never be tourists, waiting for the bus, and elderly man and his wife approached us timidly and after staring for quite some time asked "Estan perdidos?" (Are you lost?) We laughed for days about that.
We had three days in Lima before our flights to New York. In preparation for our vacation in the city we scoured boutiques and splurged on the perfect outfits. We hung out with Jonathan and the other local artisans, ate at a great vegetarian restaurant near the center and searched artisan shops for cheap stones. We went to an awesome hip-hop show then wandered the empty streets late at night and watched the ocean from the high cliffs above. Our last day we met up with Joaquin and Marcel for lunch and they helped us with our bags, later we went to Joaquin's and ate dinner with his family. From there we got a taxi to the airport to catch our midnight flight. After some ridiculous problems with the airline and more problems with the bus when we reached New York, 27 hours after leaving Lima, we arrived at our crappy hotel near Times Square in NYC.
