Procasti-Nation

As we waited outside the airport on March 18th for the arrival of Krista's Mom and Dad, we contemplated how we would get them and us back to the house.  The day before, a protest had been announced and the city was effectively shut down.  We were told that taking a cab anywhere near the protesters would likely result in a rain of stones falling on us and our vehicle because the protesters demanded total solidarity.  WELCOME TO CUSCO MOM AND DAD!

I did a little reconnaissance on my bicycle earlier in the morning and found that there were in fact taxis running, they were just taking routes that gave a wide berth between them and the protesters.  We arrived at the airport after a very long detour and found heaps of taxis there waiting to haul the planeload of tourists to their destinations.  We had considered taking two taxis when one of the drivers suggested I hire a van.  That's when I met Nilo.

At first glance it was obvious that Nilo was a special guy.  Portly, wearing a sweatsuit and with a playful  sparkle in his eyes, I caught him paling around with the other drivers when I went to ask him about taking us to our house.  I told him where we were going and he said "No hay paso," that road's not open.  "But..." He suggested we try to approach our road from the other side and drive the wrong way down the one-way street for a spell.  "But," he told me, "If the police find us," and then he took his index finger and slowly drew it across his neck.  I promised him I would play the role of dumb tourist and take complete responsibility for the grievous infraction should we be noticed.  In the end Nilo was as cool as a cucumber and we arrived without a hitch.  As Nilo wished Marian and Lyle a great stay in Peru he handed me his card.  I knew we'd be seeing Nilo again.

Mom and Dad arrived with scads of goodies from the USA, but one of their most important items was not for us.  My Dad and Rhonda had promised our friend and  Guide Extraordinaire, Jaun Pedro, an iPod touch for the amazing experience he provided them.  Juan, in typical fashion, invited Sophia to help him open his gift.  This was the first time Marian and Lyle met Juan, and as the week progressed they too would get to know him well.

Our first excursion was a trip down to Ollantaytambo where the weather was warmer, the altitude lower, and the ruins as amazing as ever.  We took a local bus there with my bicycle lashed to the roof for 10 soles a person.  We stayed at an amazing hotel with a location as unlikely as it was convenient.  Right on the train platform to Aguas Calientes is El Alberge, a refined yet funky building overlooking the Villcabamba river and the mountains beyond.  There was a lovely courtyard filled with flowering plants and even a wood-burning sauna tucked away in a corner.  We ate our meals at the hotel's excellent restaurant and our first night happened to be Grandpa Lyle's birthday.  The kitchen made him this beautiful "cake" out of mangoes, pears and plums.

Before dinner,  I managed to sneak out for a great bike ride climbing the opposite side of the river.  On the way back down my passage was blocked for 15 minutes by a team of donkeys carting freshly harvested wheat down to the valley from fields above.

On day-two we arranged for Juan Pedro and Nilo to meet us in Ollanta and spend the day with us.  While Marian and Lyle and Krista toured the ruins with Juan, the girls and Nilo and I loaded the luggage and bike into the van.  In Urubamba we visited a ceramics studio where this little guy was living, sharing his ample cage with a big rabbit.

After lunch we drove up to the amazing ruins of Moray, concentric circular terraces dug into a depression in the land.   With Juan playing Andean songs on his Qena (Andean flute) we walked along the rim of the abyss as the neon-green landscape exploded all around us, bathed in the light of the equatorial sun. 

The sun soon gave way to an isolated but powerful storm.  The contrast between the two was amazing.  Driving directly through it I watched two bolts of lightning strike hills right next to us.  Nilo didn't skip a beat.  He was a really great, affable, and most importantly, cautious driver.  I sat up front with him the whole day.  He told me about a couple of great treks to do including one to the hotsprings of Lares where he claimed with a crooked smile and raised eyebrow that on certain, moonless nights, all the women from the countryside sneak into the pools to wash themselves --completely naked. 

Once back in Cusco it was cold!  But thanks to this gift from my brother David I was well prepared.  That's pure alpaca baby!

The next day,  Krista and I had to go to work, and Isabel did her first stint as a bilingual tour guide.  She and Marian and Lyle headed off to Lago Titicaca and the floating islands of Puno for a three day adventure.  They took a bus to Puno, spent a day boating around the islands and then rode the exceedingly fancy train back to Cusco.  By all accounts, Puno is a very, very, very high place.  Grandma went as far as to say she wouldn't recommend a visit to Puno to "old" people.  They got back just in time to welcome their son Matt, who arrived the next morning.   

Matt is a big cyclist and I couldn't wait to get him out on the amazing trails of Cusco.  We rented a bike from my friend Dougie and got right to it.  We had great weather and did my usual route -- climb up around 1300 feet to 12,800 feet, and then bomb back down to San Blas.  Matt claims he is no downhiller, but he flew down the mountain with greatest of ease.

Me too.

 Mom and Dad left on Sunday afternoon, and got back to Kansas City without a hitch.  I can only imagine how happy Oliver, super poodle, was to see them.  I wonder if he smelled us on their clothing.

Monday was a really important day for Cusco, the benediction of Señor de los Temblores (the Lord of the Earthquakes).  According to the legend, during an enormous earthquake in Cusco the statue now known as Señor de los Temblores was rushed out of the crumbling church, and as the light of day illuminated his face, the quake abruptly halted.  The plaza was absolutely choked with believers and onlookers alike as the holiday was commemorated, and the church was surrounded by hundreds of police officers.  The girls and I left before the benediction, but Matt stayed until the end and reported a serious lack of respect for personal space at the height of the celebration.

 

As I write this Krista, Matt and Isabel are on a four day trek through the mountains to the north of Cusco with Juan Pedro.  If all went according to plan they crossed a 15,000 foot pass yesterday!  Sophia and I have been having a good time together, but she has had her teary moments.  She ate dinner the first night with, I kid you not, a pair of Isabel's dirty jeans wrapped around her head to get her scent.  I jokingly refer to her as our little barbarian, but truth be told, she is very much in touch with her animal-self.  Below she can be seen in self-imposed exile after some sort of tiff. 

It's hard to believe that it's April already.  It looks like we are going to have a pretty routine month with no more visits or travel planned for the time being.  I think it will do everyone good to have a bit of routine back in our lives after three months of wonderful guests and adventures.  It feels like July is a lifetime away from now, but as we find our stride in our Peruvian life, the time seems to find its stride too.  I am making an effort every morning to burn the mountain view from our bedroom into my memory, and every bike ride I am trying to remember the way my body felt flying through the air or bumping down some ledgy track.  Because I know that someday, sooner than I think, we will be heading home.