Peru: Ancient cultures and altitude problems

Woo! I'm only... less than a week late with this one. This time I am blaming being super busy with adventurous things. And the fact that WiFi at my hostels hasn't been the best. Also, I'm just generally bad at remembering to post these things, evidently.

My second week in Peru went something like this.

Chocolate tea... chocolate buttons... chocolate pisco?

I decided to spend the day making use of my Cusco Tourist Ticket. I'd bought it to get into the ruins at Ollantaytambo, but it gave me access to a whole host of other sites in Cusco and the surrounding area.

Including, to my delight, some museums. I figured I'd spend the day working my way through the three included Cusco museums. Contrary to the information on the ticket, the contemporary art museum appeared to be closed, so I headed across the plaza to the Museo Historico Regional instead.

It's quite a small museum and the entire upper floor is dedicated to the Colonial era. Interesting, but not as interesting as the pre-Columbian section downstairs. And when I say pre-Columbian... well, this was the first room.

That's a glyptodont fossil. They're basically huge, prehistoric armadillos. Definitely pre-Columbian. In the next few rooms, though, were a whole host of pre-Incan artefacts, including this somewhat rude figurine, probably used as a fertility symbol.

Also, this delightful display of the various potato varieties grown around Cusco. I am reliably informed by multiple guides that Peru has over 3000 varieties of potato. I have tried some of them. They are delicious.

Following on from the regional museum, I decided to check out the ChocoMuseo, which isn't a museum as much as a marketing ploy. It is, however, delicious. And free. I'm not going to turn my nose up at free chocolate. So, our guide first explained to us about Peruvian chocolate and that you can tell where the cacao beans come from by the taste. At which point we all ate a cacao bean.

Cacao beans taste chocolatey, but also bitter and to me at least, quite earthy. Not bad, but not something I want to be munching on a regular basis. Fortunately, after the bean, we got to try a whole host of other chocalatey goodness while our guide explained the process of turning the beans into chocolate.

Soooo... I had cacao tea (better than the chocolate tea I've had before), hot chocolate (YUM), chocolate buttons flavoured with coca, sea salt, various fruits and a really nice white chocolate, chocolate and fruit jams and, possibly my favourite, pisco flavoured with chocolate and fruit. Passionfruit chocolate pisco is delicious. I could happily have worked my way through the entire line of piscos.

Of course, this is all clearly a big con to draw you in and get you to buy something and I'm not ashamed to say that it worked on me. I bought a couple of bars of delicious dark chocolate, one with sea salt and one with mango. Om nom nom. Not the cheapest, but it's so rich that it'll last me ages. Trying to save it for NaNoWriMo - I'm going to need the kick.

Following the chocolate overload, I headed away from the historic centre to see the site of Qorikancha, the Inca sun temple. However, I found the entrance to the museum blocked by an enormous school group and really didn't fancy dealing with the crowd, so I toddled back to the hostel instead.

Where I wrote something like 3,500 words of planning for the aforementioned NaNoWriMo. I'm a little bit obsessive about world building.

Fortunately, my attention was drawn away from doing any more writing by a nice evening of chat with other folks at the hostel. That and another couple of pisco sours. Well, if the hostel bar insists on having them on 2 for S/. 18 during Happy Hour, who am I to argue? After all, that's about £4. Om. Nom. Nom.

Pottery, pottery everywhere

My final day in Cusco I had a gloriously lazy morning (not due to hangover, I might add) during which I wrote ALL THE WORDS of intricate worldbuilding, and then toddled off in search of some way to spend my afternoon. The contemporary art museum was still closed, this time because it was a Sunday, so instead I made my way to the Museo del Arte Precolombino, just up from the Plaza de Armas.

The place wasn't included in my tourist ticket, but it was worth the entrance fee. It approaches pre-Columbian art from an artist's perspective as opposed to history, which was a little bit of a disappointment, but the pieces they have there are beautiful. The native cultures of South America produced some amazing art.

For example, this is a Chimu or Chancay vase. It looks like modern art to me, but dates from around 1200-1400AD, if my memory serves correctly.

This beautiful Moche piece, which is in imitation of a cactus, obviously.

The Moche pieces in particular were fascinating - they often created ceramics in the shape of plants and animals, so that part of the collection also includes this.

It's a potato. Clearly that crop was already important all the way back in the first millenium AD.

Enough of the pottery though. I'm sure most folks aren't quite as fascinated by these things as me and I'll admit that I was taking photos of prett much anything so that I could draw inspiration for various fictional cultures in my writing. Not a geek...

Following the awesome of that museum, I thought I'd make another attempt at getting into the Qorikancha site museum. This time I succeeded. Unfortunately, while there are some really interesting pieces in there, no photography was allowed. And the entire museum, which took me about 20 minutes to go through, all felt rather dated.

In addition, to see the remains of the Qorikancha sun temple, you have to pay an additional fee to the convent that's built on top of it. I figured I'd spent enough money on museums for the day and, knowing that I would be seeing more amazing sites over the next week or so, gave it a miss.

So I ended up back at the hostel where I spent far too long repacking my bags, before writing MOAR WORDS and finally ending my stay with a delicious Philly Cheesesteak, pisco sour and the US Presidential Debate. Interesting combination. The pisco sour was definitely required to deal with the ridiculousness of the debate.

Skull squish museum

On the Monday morning I dragged myself out of bed at stupid o'clock in the morning, had a minor freak out when my pre-booked taxi was 15 minutes late and made very bad small talk in even worse Spanish with the driver.

Fortunately, I still made it to my bus in time. Being really paranoid about getting places on time will do that. Struggling to stay awake, I mumbled a goodbye to a rather soggy looking Cusco as the bus set off higher into the Andes towards the town of Puno.

Now, I could have taken the cheaper option and gone straight from Cusco to Puno. But why would I do that when I could pay a few dollars more (OK, so more than a few. Still cheap) and make some stops along the way? Why on earth would I sit on a bus for 8 hours without seeing the amazing things I was passing?

First stop, the small town of Andahuaylillas, which is as hard to spell as it is to pronounce. Its star attraction is the 16th century church of San Pedro, known as the Sistine Chapel of the Americas.

Unfortunately, I only have exterior shots, because photography isn't allowed inside. I do have a disc which the staff gave out which apparently has interior shots, but given that I have no disc drive... yeah. You'll just have to take my word that it is amazing. For someone more used to English, plain old Anglican churches, it looks a bit tacky - it's all gold and shiny and covered in paintings. Very cool.

We made a second stop in Andahuaylillas at the tiny Museo Ritos Andinos. Courtesy of its large selection of deformed skulls, this has been immortalised in my memory as the skull squish museum. Yup. Look, a skelly with a squished skull.

The entire museum can be done in 10 minutes, absolute max, and that's as much because half the info is in Spanish only and it took me that long to translate enough to understand what it meant.

From Andahuaylillas we headed on south down the road, got stuck for a good half hour because of what looked like a pretty serious crash and finally made it to the little village of Checacupe, home to a suspension bridge.

Capilano, eat your heart art. Supposedly there's been a suspension bridge at this location since Inca times, although the current bridge is a bit of a cheat because it uses cables instead of the rope that would have been used traditionally. Still, there were plenty of people in my group who seemed hesitant to cross it. Be amazed - I was nice and resisted the urge to jump up and down and make it bounce.

The next stop was at Raqchi, also awkward to spell, site of the Incan Temple of Wiracocha, among an impressive array of ruins.

Wiracocha was the creator god of the Incas, and if the various guides I've had are to be believed, the only "god" - all other worshipped entities can be considered spirits of a sort, in line with an animist belief system. The site is also home to a lot of circular structures, thought to be storehouses. The sole reconstructed one proved to be very useful when it started bucketing down with rain.

Onwards down the road, we stopped again at Marangani, this time for lunch. I may have stuffed my face with soup and chicken and rice and sweet potato and pudding. And drunk large quantities of tea. Hey, it was included in the bus ticket, I had to make the most of it.

Climbing higher into the Andes, en route to the Altiplano, we stopped at La Raya, the highest point on the road and the border bewteen the departments of Cusco and Puno. Harold popped out for a minute just to prove he's still around.

And still it rained. From La Raya we had a somewhat boring ride out of the mountains and onto the Altiplano. It rained some more.

We finally stopped at Pukara to visit another little museum. Again, no photography allowed. What is it with this no photography thing? It's very annoying. Especially when there were some very cool pieces in that museum - both Inca and pre-Inca, including what I think were some Tiwanaku artefacts, the Tiwanaku culture being one the biggest powers in the area prior to the rise of the Inca.

There was also a funky looking church.

And then back on the bus for the final stretch to Puno, passing through the somewhat terrifying looking city of Juliaca on the way.

I could have flown from Cusco to Juliaca, but quickly decided against it when I read about all the crime and how dangerous it was. Glad I took the bus.

At last, 10 hours after departing Cusco, I arrived in Puno, successfully found a registered taxi at the bus station and made it to my hostel. Where I promptly nearly passed out on reaching my room because oh my god the altitude and oh my god three flights of stairs.

URGH.

The Return of the Storm

Ah yes, the return of my nemesis. But first, my plans for a lie in were foiled when I woke up at 7am in desperate need of breakfast. Much to my delight, breakfast at my hostel in Puno is the best I've had yet - cheese, ham, scrambled eggs, fresh bread, tomatoes, smoothies, ALL THE TEA.

After I'd had a nice cup of coca tea in an attempt to ward off the incoming altitude issues, I booked myself on a trip to Sillustani for the afternoon and proceeded to have a nice lazy morning to make up for the lack of lie in.

In the afternoon I was picked up for my trip to Sillustani, the only native English speaker on the bus. Fortunately, there were a couple of other people who preferred English over Spanish, so I got a bilingual tour.

On arrival, it started raining. By the time we walked from the car park to the base of the site, it was chucking it down and the wind was driving it sideways. Glad I thought to take my wooly hat with me. That bloody Storm. I thought I'd got rid of it.

Anyway, after 5 minutes, the Storm buggered off. Sillustani is the site of a complex of tower tombs ranging from small, Colla-built tombs that immediately preceded the Incas, to the huge structures built by the Inca themselves. I've noticed that restoration as opposed to preservation is popular in Peru, so here is one of the partially restored Inca tombs.

The tower itself doesn't contain the body - the burial is actually beneath the tower. There are also some even older burials on the site, this time in cists. We have similar burials in the UK. A cist is a hole lined with stone and then covered. Sometimes this is with a capstone, sometimes with a skin or wickerwork. The cists at Sillustani show up as small rings of stones sticking out of the ground.

Speaking of rings of stones, there's also a sun temple there. It's like a miniature Stonehenge, or possibly a very large sundial.

The smaller ring next to it is the moon temple, apparently and it's unfinished. Not much else to say aboout that one. With our trip to Sillustani completed, we piled back onto the bus and I took the opportunity to take a stupid selfie to demonstrate my excellently clashing fashion choices. Orange hat, purple scarf, green jumper. I am a fashion goddess.

Can't beat that hat. My ears were lovely and toasty. My innards got nicely toasty too at our next stop, which I hadn't known was included. Ten minutes down the road from Sillustani, we pulled over at a little house that looked like all the other little houses in the area. Adobe bricks, small buildings positioned around a courtyard.

There, the family showed us some of the local staples, including some delicious potatoes fresh out of the pot, fresh cheese and quinoa bread.

Quinoa is a ridiculously faddy thing in the UK and I've never had it in anything nice. Until I got to Peru, that is. I am not ashamed to say that I had a second helping of the quinoa bread. Om nom nom. Strangely, the selection also included a brown spread which I'm almost certain the guide said was made of earth. Like... mud? Still not entirely sure, but it was pretty good with the taters.

The family also keep guinea pigs, although these guys are definitely not pets. These are for eating. Just a shame they look so much like the one I had as a kid, which rather amused the guide.

And then back to Puno, where I had an email waiting for me to say that my two day trip out on Lake Titicaca was confirmed. Win.

IHMAIWTD

Wednesday started out OK. I sorted out getting some laundry done, did some writing, some booking of stuff.

And then my iPod started making the click of doom. This is generally a sign of the hard drive failing. I went into a bit of a meltdown. It really shouldn't have been a big deal, but I'm very attached to my music library and the iPod is the only place I have access to the whole lot. I need it for the moments when I feel like shit or I can't sleep.

So, yeah. Much freaking out. Much trying very hard not to crawl under the covers and cry. Much making myself feel sick with worry.

I had planned on going to a museum, but I couldn't get my brain to focus. I needed something to take my mind off the horrible clicking the iPod made every time I turned it on or off. So I treated myself to a nice lunch in the main square.

Look, more delicious quinoa-based things. How come we don't have nice quinoa dishes in the UK?

And then I ate some of the fancy chocolate I bought in Cusco. As I mentioned above, I'd wanted to save it for NaNoWriMo, but I needed endorphin-inducing food. It worked. Having stuffed myself with good food, I finally remembered that I have access to a large chunk of my library through Amazon, so that should keep me sane until I can work out what to do about the iPod.

On the downside, I'd stuffed myself with good food and my stomach did not appreciate it. Or possibly it was something else I'd eaten. Whatever the case, I spent the rest of the day and all night feeling rotten, if rather less anxious.

Hablas Espanol?

Fortunately, both anxiety and sickness had dissipated by the following morning. Which was great, because I had to get up early again to head out onto Lake Titicaca. First stop, the port, where I bought some water (for me) and apples (for my host family). I had no idea if apples were a suitable gift, but the guide assured us that fruit would be appreciated. Hmm...

And then our group of 13 piled onto a boat for the short trip out to the Uros Islands. These are the famous floating reed islands of Lake Titicaca, named for the Uru people.

We landed on Suma Willtja, where the president of the island, Joel, gave us a demonstration of how they construct the islands with layers of reeds. The reeds are also eaten and I can confirm that they taste a little bit like apple. Not bad.

After the demonstration, we were invited to see inside the houses, which I found a little bit uncomfortable, but the islands now rely heavily on tourism.

And then, to avoid being guilt-tripped in buying little trinkets I didn't want, I paid the S./10 to take a ride across the lagoon in the island's reed boat. Very relaxing.

A quick stop at the island across the lagoon for coca tea - a necessity at this altitude, methinks - and then we were off again on the three hour slog across the lake to Amantani, the biggest of Titicaca's islands.

There we were met by the ladies who would be hosting us for the night - the mamas, as our guide, Johnny, called them. I was grouped with a father and son from Sydney and soon we set off behind our mama, Epifania.

At the house, we met Epi's husband, Teodosio, who joined us for a lunch of quinoa soup followed by potatoes and cheese with a nice cup of munia tea and a basket of delicious quinoa bread. We soon established that out of the three of us, I spoke the most Spanish (by a small margin) so I ended up as unofficial translator. Somehow, I managed to work out most of what Teodosio was saying, which I was very pleased with.

After lunch, we headed down to the community's small library, where a young lady leads an after school initiative to teach the local kids additional reading, maths and basic English. The company I took the tour with contributes to the communities they house their clients in, which is part of the reason I chose to go with them. On our trip, the company was taking some tables and chairs to furnish the library.

We made our own small contribution to the kids' English learning by teaching them Jingle Bells. They seemed to do pretty well, although I did hear the occasional "Navidad, Navidad" which is how the song goes in Spanish.

Outside the library, the mamas showed us some of the weaving they do and also how they grind quinoa. Then it was time to head up the hill at the back of the community to view the sunset. Half of our group decided not to make the trek, so off went the rest of us and Johnny the guide, tramping up the hill. I was soon wishing I'd drunk more coca tea. Or, y'know, was just a little bit fitter. Johnny led us around a slightly less steep path, so we got a lovely view out across the lake, with just a hint of Bolivia's mountains in the far distance.

And, of course, the obligatory group photo in which I am pulling a weird face.

And still onwards, winding up to Pachatata and the ancient ceremonial centre on the hilltop. I was pleased to see I wasn't the only one struggling with the hill and the altitude, but it was certainly worth it when we got to the top.

While busy with other groups, it wasn't that crowded or noisy that you couldn't appreciate the beautiful view. Here is the sun going down over Peru, from the highest point on Amantani.

So worth it. And once we got back to the house, Epi and Teodosio were ready with dinner. A potato soup for starters, followed by a pasta dish. Just what we needed after trekking up that hill. We managed an almost conversation over the meal, in broken Spanish on our part, and the occasional snippet of English from Teodosio. I did establish that the couple have two sons who live in Puno and that Teodosio wouldn't see us in the morning because he had to leave early to go to Puno to see the kids. See, I must have picked up more Spanish than I thought.

We also handed over our fruit gifts. I am super rubbish with body language, but I think our hosts were pleased.

Dinner was followed by a glorious early night during which I managed to snuggle myself into my sleeping bag, under the blankets and somehow didn't overheat. It was beautifully cosy.

So. Many. Hills

After an amazing night's sleep, first stop was breakfast with Epi, Teodosio having already left for Puno. Breakfast consisted of quinoa pancakes and jam. Most delicious. I made a slip up in my Spanish, because I misheard Epi and my brain did a stupid. What Epi said was "Quiera tiene mas?", which I realised later in the day means "do you want more?" and was clearly in regard to whether we wanted any more pancakes.

What I heard was "Quiera tiene?" and without that mas on the end, my brain just coulldn't work out what she meant. It didn't help that I think she tapped her wrist as she said it, so I came to the completely wrong conclusion that she'd asked for the time. She didn't seem too worried when I told her it was 7am...

Fortunately, I didn't have much time to worry aboout my dodgy Spanish, because we were soon off back down to the little harbour to begin our next adventure. Epi was spinning wool the entire way down the hill. I was most impressed by her multitasking.

And then it was time to say goodbye to the mamas and board the boat. Obligatory group photo time again.

Our only stop on this day was the second largest island in the lake, Taquile. Taquile is much more geared up for tourism than Amantani, but without feeling like kitsch central. First task: climb the hill from the dock to the Plaza de Armas.

For some of our group, this was more than a little difficult, but we all made it in the end. I'm glad to say that after the previous night's trek up to Pachatata, this was relatively easy.

We had some free time in the Plaza, which I made the most of by losing a good 15 minutes in the knitted goods shop. There is a tradition on Taquile of the men knitting. I have no idea who made the amazing gloves and scarf that I bought, but I can be certain they were made on Taquile - everything in the shop was island-made.

I couldn't resist - there's frigging llamas and alpacas on them and the fingers of the gloves are all different colours. Plus, the gloves are made of alpaca wool. I'd been looking out for something of this type the entire time I've been in Peru and once I heard about Taquile's crafts, I knew this was going to be a good place to find something.

As it's going to be spring/summer in a lot of the places I'm visiting from now onwards, I have no idea when I'll get the chance to wear them. But the pretties. And also, supporting local communities.

OK, I'm shutting up about the woollens now.

From there it was just a short, thankfully flat, walk around the island to our lunch stop. Lunch with a view, which I suspect is unavoidable on Taquile - wherever you are on this island, I'm sure you'd see the sea.

Lunch consisted of quinoa soup with quinoa bread and salsa for starters.

Followed by trout from the lake. I'll admit that while the trout was yummy, I really struggled with all the bones. My parents will tell you that I get a bit weird as soon as I find a bone in a fish and it then takes me ages to eat the rest of it, if I eat it at all.

I was pretty impressed that I ate as much of that trout as I did.  Altogether, that meal was pretty good for S./ 20 - that's about £5.

After that, it was a simple case of walking down the other side of the island to another dock and our 3 hour boat ride back to Puno. While Machu Picchu was amazing and the main reason I chose to include Peru on this trip, I think this trip on Lake Titicaca has been my real highlight.

My blissful feeling was somewhat marred on return to the hostel, where I found the place overrun with programmers or developers or something. Not that they were unfriendly, but they were loud and they were taking up all the room in the common area. I wolfed down my tea and disappeared back to my room where I had another early night. I'd need it for my stupidly early bus in the morning...


My final week in Peru is looming. I'm heading to Arequipa next, the country's second largest city. No real plans as yet...

Mostly looking forward to the drop in altitude...

Peru: Inca sites and language barriers

Hola! Buenos dias! I'm currently enjoying the sunshine in the courtyard at my hostel in Cusco. It's glorious. Peru is turning out to be awesome. Here's what's happened in the last week.

Yes, Machu Picchu is amazing

My first morning in the little town of Aguas Calientes I got up early, took a few photos of the town waking up and hopped on a bus up to Machu Picchu.

The bus was the easy option. I could have walked. I considered walking. Once we got to the base of the mountain though... yeah, I'm glad I took the bus. Here's a photo I took from the top so you can see the road.

Bit steep. Also quite a long way for someone with my level of unfitness. Anyhoo, I eventually got through the queue to get in - who'd have thought it would be heaving at 8:30am? I didn't.

At first, I thought about following the path up towards the Sun Gate, where the Inca Trail enters the site. I decided against it after I got stuck behind the slowest walking people ever and instead wandered into the lower part of the site.

The mountain in the back is Huaynapicchu and if you have the right ticket you can go up it. I didn't and I didn't really fancy hauling my legs up it either. Actually, coming down would probably have been more painful - my right knee's been playing silly buggers on downhills the last week or two. Mmm, crunchy.

Anyhoo, Machu Picchu reallly is as amazing as I expected. Sure, I know a lot of the site has been restored, but there's so much there. Only 2500 tickets are available for each day, so on such a huge site it's easy to find a quiet spot where you can pretend you're the only person there.

This is the Templo del Condor - the boulders supposedly represent the wings and the large flat stone on the ground is the head. Like a genius, I didn't go with a guide, so I picked up most of my info from eavesdropping on other people.

I even remembered to take a photo of Harold.

I spent the whole morning there. I would happily have spent longer, but I accidentally wandered out of the exit. That turned out to be a good thing because just as I was debating trying to get back in, the heavens opened, so I joined the queue for the bus instead.

After a wiggly windy ride back down the mountain, I... what did I do? Umm... time to consult the journal.

Oh, of course, I went for pizza. And lemonade, because I discovered the Peruvians have good lemonade. Also, the WiFi at my hostel in Aguas Calientes was atrocious so I planned on filching it at the restaurant instead.

After stuffing myself with delicious pizza and discovering that I'd managed to sunburn my scalp (note to self: buy a sunhat), I headed back to my room where I spent the rest of the day squeeing over how awesome Machu Picchu had been, reading and trying to do some planning for National Novel Writing Month, which is coming up in November. It was lovely to have a room to myself to just relax for a while.

Are there jaguars round here?

On my final day in Aguas Calientes I enjoyed a beautiful morning reading, another trip to a restaurant to steal WiFi and then a gorgeous, if rather warm stroll along the river back to the gate to the Machu Picchu road.

This time though, I was in search of the Manuel Chavez Ballon Museum, which is basically the museum of Machu Picchu. It's tucked down a little track just at the base of the mountain. Easy to miss.

Great little museum though. I'll admit that, for some reason, I was expecting it to be a bit dated, but it was very modern and well laid out. Really, I should have gone here first before I saw the sight because it would have made it easier to interpret what I saw.

Some really interesting artefacts, including these little llama/alpacas which may have been offerings of a sort.

Mostly, they made me smile. Also, this, which is a massive stone mortar probably used in rituals as a mirror - just fill it with water.

I couldn't help but think of Galadriel's mirror in The Lord of the Rings when I read the description. Woo, magical things.

It's only a tiny place, but worth spending an hour or so reading all the info boards - there's so much information about the site.

On leaving I managed to completely freak myself out because I first saw an agouti. These are cute little rodent things. I did a bit of cooing over the little bugger and then remembered that I was walking alone through what was effectively jungle. Thank you for reminding me of that, agouti. Admittedly only the very edge of the jungle, but there's scary things in jungles.

Of course, I then heard a noise. To my freaking out brain it sounded an awful lot like a roar. And my freaking out brain went "ARGH! JAGUAR!".

Fortunately my rational brain overruled that. I'm not sure how. But I'm pretty sure I would have been warned if there were jaguars in the area.

I did see some other wildlife on my way back to the town though. First, another agouti, and this time I got a photo.

Then, a blue bird of some sort. I had to take the photo from across the river with my camera zoomed a long way, so it's not the best shot ever.

If anyone can tell me what it is, I'd be very happy.

And then I spent another evening reading and writing and generally enjoying the luxury of having a single room.

Hummingbirds are fast

On the Monday morning, I made my sleepy way through an equally sleep Aguas Calientes to get my train back up the valley to the little town of Ollantaytambo.

After an uneventful train journey, broken only by the arrival of my free tea and packet of Inka Corn (it's basically a giant variety of sweetcorn, dried. Tastes a bit like popcorn... sort of), I arrived in Ollantaytambo, which I'm going to call Ollanta from now on, because it's quicker to type and that's what the locals call it.

My hostel was a good 20 minute walk along the river and I was kind of hungry, so guess what? I went for pizza. Again. That is indeed 4 days on the trot that I had pizza. In my defence, I wanted to try alpaca but the restaurant was apparently fresh out of alpaca. Enormous pizza and lemonade ensued instead.

When I did finally make it to the hostel, I really couldn't be bothered to do much. There was a tiny balcony attached to my room, with some nice views of the river.

And while I was out there, I spotted a couple of hummingbirds in the garden. I've never seen wild hummingbirds before and I was fascinated. Unfortunately, the damn things are so fast, this is the only photo I got of them.

I promise, there is a hummingbird in that photo. It shows up as a green smudge. Sort of. That's how fast these things are.

And then all the lounging happened. To be honest, I was enjoying not rushing around like I had at times in the US during the previous leg. It was lovely knowing that I didn't have to panic about cramming everything in.

Sun+altitude=ouch

Another reasonably early start on Tuesday as I headed off to the Inca ritual site in Ollanta. While commonly called a fortress, for the Incas the terraces and structures on the hillside were almost certainly purely ritual in nature.

I bumped into a London-based Belgian and Italian just inside the entrance and they invited me to join them to split the cost of a guide, which was cool - I was looking forward to having more information than I had done at Machu Picchu. Ollanta's temple complex did not disappoint.

The terraces are huge and with the increase in altitude from Aguas Calientes, I definitely felt it after we climbed up to the Templo del Sol. First, we passed the wall of ten niches, which would have been used to place offerings to the many spirits respected by the Inca.

Then we visited the temple itself. The huge slabs of stone are held together with interlocking joints. It's thought this makes them more able to withstand Peru's earthquakes than if the masons had used clay or some other material. Some of the stones are believed to weigh over 100 tonnes.

The temple, as with the rest of the Inca areas of the site, was never completed. There are various theories, most involving conflict and all dated in the final years of the Incan Empire - the Inca civil war between Huascar and Atahuallpa, the arrival of the Spanish and the final retreat of Manco Inca to Vilcabamba.

The site is also home to some pre-Incan constructions, predominantly of the Huari culture, which occupied the area almost immediately prior to the Incan conquest. These structures are more defensive in nature and the niches in this wall, while similar to the Incan Wall of Ten Niches, would have been used for storage.

Perhaps most impressive out of the whole site though are the still functioning fountains. These are part of the Incan site and have a ritual purpose to do with purification. This is the Princess Fountain.

The carving is in the shape of the Chakana - the Andean Cross - a motif which appears across this and other Inca sites.

At this point, my camera pulled a big fat nope on me. Apparently I'd taken far too many pictures and the battery died. Fortunately, I'd managed to make my way arouund the entire site by then, so I hurried back to the hostel to recharge. At which point I also discovered that I'd got sunburnt.

Yeah. I was so focussed on the history and beauty of the ruins that I'd forgotten that a) the sun is stronger at higher altitudes and b) subsequently forgotten to reapply my sun cream. This resulted in a nicely ouchy back and additional ouch to my already singed scalp. Well done, me.

While my camera was charging, I finally gave in to curiosity and grabbed a cup of free coca tea from the kitchen. Tastes a bit like green tea and I'd been informed by other guests that it wasn't a bad idea to start drinking it before you got up to an altitude where you started getting altitude sickness symptoms.

Eh, I figured, I was going to be in Cusco again the following day and I didn't fancy another day of breathlessness. Might be worth a try.

Camera recharged, I headed back into the town centre, where I grabbed a late lunch at Hearts Cafe near the main square. This place supports local communities with school and medical supplies. It also had an alpaca burger on the menu. So, of course, I had to try it. Alpaca is yummy.

After late lunch, I took a stroll in search of some of Ollanta's smaller ruins. First, I located Punku Punku, which is part of a possible defensive wall. There was a traffic policeman there, who called me over while I was taking photos.

Oh shit, I think, does he think I'm taking photos of him? Is he going to tell me off or something? Shit shit shit.

Hola! I say, dreading his response. Instead, he smiles, introduces himself as Mauricio and asks my name. OK, this I can handle. I introduce myself and tell him I don't speak much Spanish. He proceeds to rattle off something in Spanish out of which I catch the words Punku Punku and not a lot else. I figure he's telling me about the wall. I smile and nod and tell him thank you for the information. I can at least say that in Spanish.

Well done, me. Almost conversation in Spanish? Check. Not getting arrested? Check.

I said goodbye to friendly Mauricio the Policeman and headed back into the town. Specifically, I was in search of the oldest part of town. Ollanta can lay claim to being one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the Americas, because the old part of town has been occupied since Inca times. And indeed, some of the houses also date back that far, in part at least.

The stone lintels and trapezoidal shape of the doors give away the Inca construction here. I think this area of Ollanta is probably the prettiest.

Oh, and that's not to mention the drainage and irrigation system, probably also Inca in origin. I even managed to get one of those fancy water-blurring shots. Clever me.

Not bad for one day.

I'm going to die...

I had planned on spending the morning exploring a bit more of Ollanta. However, while I have become a bit more relaxed about travel arrangements since I set off on this trip, I am still paranoid about getting places at reasonable times. As a result, I ended up heading back to Cusco a bit earlier than planned and not seeing any more of Ollanta.

I did have a reason to be a bit cautious about making it back to Cusco at a sensible time - the only ways back from Ollanta were a local bus (terrifying), a taxi (as a solo female... not taking the risk, or a colectivo, which is effectively a shared taxi, usually a minibus.

I planned on getting a colectivo and had been told that they usually left from near the station just after the trains got in from Machu Picchu. Great, only I couldn't find a timetable for the trains and believe me, I looked hard because I didn't fancy getting stuck in Ollanta, forced to choose another transport option.

So instead I wussed out and went down to the station at about 10am. After all, my train had got in around that time, so I figured there was a good chance of the same happening again. To my utter delight, a colectivo was already loading up when I got down there and I piled in with a group of Spanish tourists.

I'd been told that the drivers usually waited until the minibus was full before leaving, but my guy was clearly impatient, because he set off with the bus half full - me, the Spaniards, an Asian girl who didn't say a word the entire trip, a couple of Aussies and 2 local ladies.

After rattling over Ollanta's narrow, cobbled streets, we were soon haring down the Sacred Valley's winding roads. I found myself on more than one occasion clinging to the seat for grim death as the driver threw the bus around hairpin bends and insisted on overtaking pretty much anyone he ended up behind. Even the massive lorries that were definitely blocking his view of the road ahead.

As we approached Cusco, I started feeling the altitude. This was unpleasant, but not as unpleasant as the sudden realisation that I didn't know where my hostel was - I had an address, but no map or directions. As soon as the driver dumped us off in Plaza de San Fransisco, I trundled off in the direction of Plaza de Armas - the main square. At least, I hoped I was going the right way, because I had a vague recollection of seeing a Starbucks there and if Peruvian Starbucks was anything like Starbucks anywhere else, it would have WiFi and I could find my hostel.

Fortunately, my sense of direction is pretty good, so I found the square and its Starbucks easily. A massive cup of hot chocolate and gloriously good WiFi later, I set off back the way I came, having discovered that if I'd just backtracked along the colectivo's route for 5 minutes, I would have found the hostel.

I definitely felt the altitude then. There's only a very slight hill up to the hostel, but I nearly passed out while I was checking in. Urgh. After a few minutes recovering, I set off again, back across the Plaza de Armas and up the hill to the hostel I'd stayed at on my first arrival in Cusco last week and where my big bag was being stored.

Bag retrieved, I tramped off again, cursing the altitude and my unhappy lungs. On the way back to the new hostel, I stopped in at one of the hundreds of agencies in the town centre and booked a trip for the next day.

How I didn't pass out when I finally arrived back at the new hostel, I do not know. I might have spent quite a long time sprawled on the bed going "urghhhhhh" until I managed to engage in conversation with a couple of my fellow guests. Woo, I can be social even when I feel shitty. Getting good at this.

You're sure it's not alien?

Fortunately, I was feeling better the following morning and after stuffing my face with the hostel's free breakfast and downing a cup of coca tea, I headed out on a bus trip.

First stop, the salt ponds known as Salineras.

There are over 4000 of these ponds across this hillside, all fed by the same, single spring. Each pond is owned by a local family and the area has been worked for salt since pre-Inca times.

Following Salineras, we headed through the little village of Maras, where many of the salt pond families are from, and on up a rough road to the amazing Inca site of Moray.

The concentric terraces that make up this site (and there's 3 sets of them, only 1 restored), are aligned with respect to sun and wind in such a way that the temperature difference between the highest and lowest terraces can reach 15C. The lowest, most sheltered terrace can reach 38C. Considering that Moray is at around 3800m above sea level, that's a pretty impressive temperature.

The theory goes that the Incas built this site as an agricultural research station. Their empire stretched across several climatic zones and they could have brought crops from all of those regions to Moray and seen how they grew in different conditions just by growing them on different terraces. They could even have attempted to adapt them to slightly different temperatures by growing them on successive terraces over the years.

Personally, I reckon this is the inspiration for the alien spaceship site featured in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull...

The site also has some ritual significance, due to the Incan world view and is dedicated to Pachamama, the Earth Mother who the Incas believed provided them with the earth's bounties.

From Moray, we drove back along the road to Cusco, stopping in the small town of Chinchero where there's a cooperative of local ladies who weave beautiful Quechua inspired items. First, we were given a cup of coca tea. Much appreciated, given that Chinchero is at even higher altitude than Cusco.

Then the ladies demonstrated some of the natural dyes they use to colour the wool. I was amazed at how many colours you can get from cochineal - the classic beetle derived dye which is usually red. It can also be purple, a more orange-red and with the addition of sea salt, a much brighter orange.

Following the dye demonstration, the ladies showed us how they weaving the coloured wool into beautiful cloths.

I definitely debated buying something from them, but I wasn't going to be pressured into it. In the end I left with nothing. There was nothing in the shop area that really jumped out to me and while I like to support local projects, I won't buy things just because it feels nice. I need to actually want it.

On return to the hostel, my roommates invited me to join them in the bar. I've barely drunk since I left the UK - a couple of ciders in Canada and a couple of glasses of free wine at hostels. But I had wanted to try out Pisco Sour, which is something of a Peruvian national drink.

It's delicious. I was a bit bemused when the barman added an egg white to the mix, but it was yummy. There was a pisco demonstration in the bar that night as well, so I nabbed a free shot of Machu Picchu, which is a pisco based cocktail.

Orange juice, grenadine, pisco, mint liquer. Yum.

Mmm, mojito

To my complete surprise, I woke up the next morning with no hangover. Although, I never used to suffer much from spirits. This was great, because I headed out on a free walking tour from the hostel in the morning, led by friendly local Freddy.

I'm glad I'd been on the coca tea again at breakfast, because the first bit of our tour involved walking up Calle Amargura, which is one steep hill. It has steps, which I generally find make hills even tougher.

From there we walked up to the church of San Cristobal, which has some excellent views out across the city.

It is also built on top of an old Inca religious site, a tactic of the Spanish to win the locals over. At the back of the square is a wall belonging to another Inca site - this one possibly an old palace. Apparently descendents of Incan royalty still live there.

From San Cristobal we headed towards San Blas, stopping along the way for Freddy to tell us that his family are descended from the last Spanish-appointed governor of the region, the governor being descended from Incan royalty. Freddy is very proud of this. I think it's pretty cool.

There are some very cool looking little passages in this area of Cusco. This is Calle Siete Diabolos - the street of seven devils.

There's also a Calle Siete Angelitos nearby in the San Blas area - seven angels. San Blas itself is considered the artistic district.

We finished the tour just off the Plaza de Armas, with its huge cathedral.

I walked back to the hostel with a Chilean guy who wanted to practise his English. That made for an interesting conversation as we both tried speaking English and Spanish to make ourselves understood. He told me my Spanish pronunciation is pretty good, which is nice. If only I spoke more of the language.

Back at the hostel, I spent the afternoon booking a flight from Chile to Australia and sorting out my visa for Australia. Apparently the Aussie visa site is super clever and can send through grant notification emails before you get the email to say the application is pending. Time travel, clearly. At least it's sorted.

And then, because I was feeling remarkably social again, I had a mojito with one of my roommates. I forgot how much I love mojitos.

All in all, my first week in Peru has gone pretty well. I've successfully negotiated the language barrier, seen a whole load of amazing Inca sites and rediscovered my social drinking side. Next week I'm heading even higher into the Andes to Puno, which sits next to Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. I might go on a homestay on one of the islands.

Better not count on the islanders speaking English...