Burning Desire For FIRE

Today a third of the group headed out into the Argentinian countryside to a gaucho ranch.

“Gaucho” is basically a shared lifestyle and traditions.

It’s not a class system. Farm owners and their workers are all gauchos.

We were going to see gauchos do their thing, and to eat prime Argentinian beef. And omg. It was divine.

The cattle in this country are grass fed, not finished off with grain in feed lots. The beef is better. Argentinian beef is so tender because the land is so fertile and flat. The cattle don’t need to get much exercise, so they don’t develop stringy muscles.

Mate (pronounced “Mah Tay) is a herbal drink that the Argentinians drink just with friends and family.

It has a special cup with a silver straw that everyone drinks from. 

Our guide for the day, Victoria, prepared a cup for us. 

She made the bitter one first, which I liked the taste of. It was like a very strong green tea.

Normally, the straw is used by everyone without cleaning it, but Victoria knows that our culture doesn’t like that, so she wiped it after each person drank.

Mate is very important in Argentina. It’s a very good way to have important conversations without confrontation. It’s a good way to break the ice, but it isn’t sold in cafés. Victoria said that the only way to taste mate is if an Argentinian offers you some.

San Antonio was established around 1700. It was originally a coach stop, but soon they started working with silver and leather, particularly whips.

To our surprise, we stopped in the town to taste-test some chocolate, and then we visited a silver workshop.

It had all sorts of things for sale. A small American tourist was excitedly telling his parents that he wanted to buy a dagger so he could stab someone with it.

Charming…

The colonisers planned the towns in the same way. A central square, with a high school, a bank and government buildings, which enabled them to keep the population under their constant view.

This road to the ranch strongly reminded me of the roads on Kangaroo Island.

Here is the ranch. We were welcomed with wine, and the most delicious empanadas I have ever eaten.

The ranch had a lovely, relaxed feel about it. There were a few other groups, but nothing felt crowded or rushed. There were a pack of 7 or 8 dogs roaming around, ranging in size from a Great Dane to a small terrier. The dogs were as friendly as the people.

Victoria, our guide for the day, was very excited that this guy was here.

“You’re very lucky,” she said. “This gaucho is famous in the area. He is very good at what he does.”

And then look at what happened next. I RODE A HORSE.

People who’ve been reading the blog for a while will know that I’ve ridden a camel in Central Australia and an elephant in Thailand. But those animals were tightly controlled.

This was just me, putting my life in the control of a horse.

It’s quite high up…

I was feeling a little more confident…

… until it wanted to lean down and grab an apple from the ground.

Anyway, off we went. I was told to not to pull on the reins, and to keep the reins in one hand, and hold onto the saddle with the other.

We ambled off. It was all going well, until I realised that my horse wanted to be at the front of the line. I can understand; I like to be at the front too.

It saw an opportunity and took it. Suddenly, we were trotting.

I knew what was happening, after all, I’ve read about trotting. I just didn’t know how to react.

The gaucho leading the horses told my horse off, and Sally from our group told me to grip the horse with my legs and pull on the reins if I wanted it to stop.

After that, the horse and I got along beautifully. Every time he started to think about doing something exciting, like leave the group to inspect a pile of hay, I’d twitch the reins and he’d roll his eyes (probably) and do the right thing.

I was proud of myself for trying this, as I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it.

The rest of the group went for a carriage ride.

During the most delicious lunch, we saw the belt and dagger that is part of the gauchos’ heritage.

The belt, with money, was originally how the gauchos carried their wealth around. The thinking was that no one could steal it if it was with them.

The knife is called a Facon. This one belonged to his grandfather.

After lunch, we were treated to a fantastic show. The music was drifting through the ranch all afternoon. It was magical.

At first, there was dancing by people who knew what they were doing.

Then the tourists were invited to join in.

It wasn’t as polished. In fact, Val, who was watching, called the Australian section “a bit of a mess.”

Then we were treated to The Horse Whisperer.

This was incredible. We were asked to stay very quiet so we didn’t spook the horse, and then we saw the following.

(Don’t be put off by the number of videos. Please watch them all in order. They’re only 10 seconds long. Hotel wifi only lets me upload vids this short, but I REALLY want you to see this guy. It’s almost as if he hypnotised the horse.)

Isn’t it incredible?

It was a brilliant day. I’m so pleased that in the space of the two days we have in Buenos Aires, we saw both the city and the country.

The gauchos of Argentina are legendary. I’m glad I got to experience a taste of what they do.

Dad joke of the day:

I’m seeing dachshunds everywhere! So many dogs in Buenos Aires, all being lovingly walked by their owners.

Today was a City Tour, followed by a tango dinner. Nice!

This obelisk in the centre of downtown is a place where they get together when they are protesting or celebrating. Especially for the football! It’s a feature of the city.

We drove past the Opera house, but I didn’t get a picture.  I didn’t realise what a fabulous story was connected with it!

There were 3 architects involved in the project to design and build the Opera House. The first architect died, aged 44.

The second architect was fit and healthy, but he arrived home early one day and discovered his wife with the butler. The architect was shot and killed, aged 44.

Of course, rumours started circulating that the project was cursed.

To get over this, the last architect was hired. He was older than 44, and the opera house was finished.

Our first stop was the main square.

In 1580 Buenos Aires was established by the Spanish. There was originally a fort on the ground where this building stands , because the local population were, understandably, less than enthusiastic about being enslaved.

Government Palace is where the president works . He commutes by helicopter from his home in the country. Don’t we all?

Pink building because the blood of cows was mixed with lime and fat. This was to protect it from humidity.

Eva Peron’s balcony is to the left, with the 3 arched windows.

Stones around the statue are a covid memorial. Every stone is a memorial for a person who died from Covid. There are literally hundreds of stones. It was really sad, and a sobering reminder of how awful it was in so many places.

People who now insist that Covid was a hoax are fools.

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity outside the presidential palace. It was the changing of the guard. They were on their way to the tomb of one of their greatest revolutionary heroes at the cathedral down the road.

As we walked towards the cathedral, we passed by the statue commemorating the day of liberation from the Spanish.
Andrea, our guide, asked if we’d ever heard of the Lost Mothers. (I had, but I thought it happened in Venezuala.)

During the last of a string of dictators in the 1970’s, over 300,000 people were kidnapped, tortured and killed by the regime. In an effort to prevent outsiders from discovering what was going on, many prisoners were lightly sedated, then pushed from planes in remote parts of the country.
Women who were pregnant when they were taken prisoner were kept until they gave birth, then their babies were placed with families loyal to the regime. None were returned to their birth families.

The Lost Mothers are the mothers and grandmothers of those people stolen and hidden. They originally marched to end the regime, but every Thursday they still march to remind people of what has been lost. They wear white headscarves to represent the nappies of their children and lost grandchildren. DNA testing has brought 134 ‘babies’ home to their birth families, but many more have been lost.

The eternal flame burns outside the cathedral.

The previous Pope, Pope Francis, worked in this cathedral for 20 years before he was elected to the top job.

The floor is covered with mosaic tiles from the UK, all in the Passion of the Christ and the Crown of Thorns. That last one sounds like a starfish to me, but I suppose that’s an Aussie thing.

Here’s where the guards were headed. This room houses the mausoleum of General José de San Martín, Argentina’s most revered revolutionary hero and a primary liberator of South America. It also has a couple of other generals and the Unknown Soldier.

His casket is buried underneath. He died in France, and was brought here. He was buried in a diagonal position as the casket didn’t quite fit… maybe because he was a Freemason? Or maybe they were bad at measurements.

Then we drove to the most FABULOUS neighbourhood.

This is the Caminito neighbourhood. It was a dump after the railway left, until an artist started to introduce colour to the place. Pretty soon, it all took off and now tourists flock here.

I nearly bought a painting but I restrained myself.

It was a wonderful place to walk around. There was a couple dressed up as tango dancers. They were grabbing tourists as they walked by, making them pose for a photo and then charging 10USD for the photo their partner took. The man tried to grab me, but I wasn’t having it. (Today is a no-spend day for me.) But it was fun watching them work.

Who knew that there is an Australia Park here, complete with massive concrete kangaroos?

These phone boxes reminded me of London. They’re standing near a MASSIVE rubber tree, with a fun twist.

They have poles holding up the branches, but Atlas is giving a hand as well.

Buenos Aires is a very clean, modern city. It was a pleasure to walk around here.

“We have no natural disasters here,” said Andrea. “No earthquakes, no hurricanes, no tornadoes. The only natural disasters are the politicians!”

The highest building here is only 54 floors. It’s residential.

There are only 3 million people in Buenos Aires. The city seems larger somehow.

Our last stop before returning to the hotel was the oldest cemetery in the city.

It’s the Recoleta Cemetery, established in 1822. Like the Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris – where I kissed Oscar Wilde’s tomb – it’s full of mausoleums as well as graves.

The mausoleums here have basements. The people who built them were thinking ahead, working out how to fit as many family members into this expensive place as they could.

Back in the 1820’s and onward, Argentina was going through a boom time. As the rich were building their houses, they were using the same materials for their mausoleums. There’s marble and stained glass everywhere.

The contracts for each mausoleum is for 99 years. Families have to pay an annual fee of $40/ square metre for maintenance.
Scattered around the cemetery are crypts that have been neglected and are falling apart. No one can touch them until the 99 years is up. Then someone new can buy it and either knock it down or renovate.

5,000 crypts here.

Here’s what is believed to be the oldest grave here. This is the wife of the great hero whose tomb we saw at the cathedral.

She looks young. His parents were originally buried here too, but at some later stage they were moved to another town. That seems a little creepy to me.

Inside.

This one had a glass door, so we could see the coffins. Or maybe, so that they can see us?

Yikes!

This is apparently the most expensive one here. It was built in the early 1900’s, and the Nobel Prize winner for Chemistry in 1970 is buried here as part of the family. It has semi-precious stone ornaments, mosaics under the roof and takes up a fair bit of space.

This is the plan for a new mausoleum that’s being built after one of the neglected ones was sold. Look at all of the marble!

And then we came to it. The place where Eva Peron rests… finally.

This is the crypt of her Brother-in-law’s family. Duarte was her maiden name.

When Eva died she was only 33 years old. She had cervical cancer. Peron wanted her embalmed, against the wishes of her family. 

People lost their minds with grief when she died, as she and her husband were very popular with the working class people, as they introduced many reforms. 

She lay in state in an open casket for weeks, until one day her body was stolen.

A radical group who hated Peron took her body out of the country and buried it in Milan under a different name. 

He body was in Milan for 15 years.

In 1955 there was a revolution by the people who stole the body.

They released the body to Peron and he returned to Argentina with his 3rd wife and the body of Eva, his second wife. The story goes that Eva rested in state in the dining room on a platform near the table for 3 years until his death.
Isobel, the 3rd wife, must have been a very patient woman!!

Her name was Liliana. She and her husband lived a very lavish lifestyle, which came to a sticky end when she was killed in an avalanche while skiing in Austria.

She’s in her wedding dress. She’s fenced off from the public, because people kept touching the dog’s nose for good luck and it was starting to damage it. There was an urban myth going around that the dog died at the exact moment that she did, but that’s not true. Her mother took care of the dog for years after the accident.

Hazel looks like this sometimes.

We were in for a treat tonight. A dinner – all food and alcohol included- at a Tango place.

It was an excellent night, but I can’t record everything, so here are some snippets.

oof. I’ve been trying for half an hour to upload another tango vid, and they keep getting rejected. I’m off to bed.

Tomorrow… gauchos!

Dad joke of the day:

Oof. This is what a 3:30 AM alarm looks like. It was a very early start to get to the airport for our flight to Argentina.

I was put in the very last row of the plane. This is my window seat.

I caught up on sleep for the first part of the trip, and read half a book during the other.

Our guide for Buenos Aires suggested a steak house. It was a beautiful meal. I waddled back to the hotel after eating most of what you see on the plate.

Liz and Val on the way back from the restaurant.

City tour of Buenos Aires tomorrow. 😃

Dad joke of the day:

The bag on the left is the one I bought in Cusco at the hotel. It’s jam-packed full of souvenirs and gifts. Honestly, you can’t take a knitter/crafter to Peru and expect them not to go a little crazy.

I was careful to only buy knits that I wouldn’t ever make. Multi- coloured things involving lots of thought and attention to detail. I know my limitations.

Oh! I heard a hilarious epilogue to the troublesome noisy neighbour. I didn’t hear a peep from her last night… because she changed rooms!!!!!
I’m glad that she had all the inconvenience of packing everything up and moving, then unpacking again. Meanwhile, I had a decent night’s sleep.

In addition, I found out the reason why the music was so loud… she brought her own radio from Australia! Who does that?

Anyway, tonight in Lima, she’s across the hall.

After we got back to the hotel, I spent my time working out my luggage, just in case the international flights are pickier about cabin baggage than the domestic flight today was.

I finished a book I started at the beginning of the day, called “I Remember Everything “ by Fiona Wilkes. Flying is very good for chopping through books. There’s a lot of waiting around, plus in Sth America the domestic flights don’t have screens. So far, I’ve read 9 books since this trip started.

I had a few Peruvian Sol to use up before we leave Peru forever. Liz, Val and I went to our favourite restaurant in Lima, where I emptied my wallet of all things Peru and paid the balance by card.

Most people would probably order my meal for the tuna steak. I ordered it for the potato au gratin. It didn’t disappoint.

Tomorrow we have to be on the bus, wheels rolling, by 5 AM. We’re flying to Buenos Aires. I’m starting to get excited. One of the main reasons I booked this trip is getting closer…

Dad joke of the day:

So, do you want to hear what happened last night, after I pressed “publish” and then wanted to go to bed?It’s something that in all my travels, I’ve never experienced.

But first let me back track a little.
It was soon after 8 PM. I’d just finished dinner, and I was reading the last 20 pages of my book before getting stuck into the blog for that day. Music suddenly roared from the next room. It was LOUD.
It was Spanish music coming from the tv. I wondered if I should go and knock on the door and ask them to turn it down, but hey. It was only 8 o’clock. I was reading and writing, not trying to sleep, so why make a fuss? They’ll turn it down soon, right?

I pressed “Publish” on the blog. I sent it to the frogblog and to the group WhatsApp chat. It was 10 PM. The music was still blaring. We had a very early start in the morning…

I decided to thump on the wall. That’s when I discovered that the walls are made of brick. Music kept going.

I grabbed my key, and even though I was in my pjs, I went into the corridor and knocked on the door. Getting progressively louder as the music kept playing.

omg. I went back into my room, and after wondering if I could sleep through it and deciding that no, I really couldn’t, I called Reception.

”We’ll call them. If the music keeps playing, then call us back.”

I heard the phone ringing through the wall. It rang for ages. The music continued. I called back.

The girl at Reception offered to change my room.
“No thanks, “ I said. “ I’ve done washing and I’ve unpacked and everything is organised. Why should I be the one inconvenienced when I’ve done nothing wrong?”

Then she said the words that changed everything.
“The lady in 404 is a member of your group.”

Instantly, I knew who it must be. Remember the woman who woke up the whole camp in the Amazon screaming about lost papers that she’d actually forgotten to bring with her?
Every day, without fail, she’s done something selfish that has annoyed the rest of the group.
I asked between gritted teeth… “Is her name BLANK?”

Of course it was.

They tried twice more to call her, then they sent a security guy up. I heard him gently knocking on the door, so I went out and said, “That doesn’t work,” and then I pounded on the door, calling, “BLANK, OPEN THE DOOR. IT’S FROGDANCER! BLANK!”

The music continued, unabated.

The security guy looked at me and said, “Do you think she’s drunk?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I think she’s probably fallen asleep.”

The next step was for him to use a master key and open the door. Before that happened, we heard the phone ringing through again.
We heard her pick it up. The music turned down very quickly so BLANK could hear Reception on the other end of the line.

Then came the thing that made my blood boil.
We heard her say to Reception, “Oh no, the music isn’t very loud at all. And you shouldn’t knock on the door so loudly. I scared. You should call me on the phone.”

WTF? No accountability, no recognition that perhaps she’d been inconsiderate… nothing. I hate that. I really do.

She didn’t open the door to apologise, though she knew darned well it was me on the other side, not a gang of Peruvian marauders out to steal her stuff. No guts.
So I posted it on the group WhatsApp.

Bad behaviour gets worse if it stays in the shadows. I chose to shine a light on it. I have received lots of support from the group.

This won’t split the group or cause anyone to be on the outs. We still have two weeks to go and we all have to coexist together. But if she tries to pull stuff like this again? I won’t be suffering in silence. She’ll be called out.

She’s poked the bear.

*******

Anyway, it’s time for some fun facts about Lake Titicaca.

The border between Peru and Bolivia runs through the lake.

The deepest part of the lake is 2,800 metres deep.

It’s the highest navigable lake in the world.

“They fish for the evening, now they return for the day.”

There’s a soccer field next to the water. “ When the ball falls into the water, it’s water polo time.”

Man-made island, in the shallowest part of the lake.
There are around 2,000 people on the islands, but it’s getting less all the time. It’s a hard life here, and the younger people tend to want a more modern life.

When I stepped off the boat onto the island, it was a strange feeling. It felt reasonably solid, but I knew there was water under our feet.

We gathered for a demonstration of how the islands are made. Basically, they grab the roots of the reeds, separate them into manageable chunks, then bind them together with rope and anchor them to the bottom of the lake… “otherwise we’ll wake up in Bolivia!”

They barter with people from the mainland to get wood and rope to hold the roots together

Then they pile layers of reeds on top, weave some houses and Bob’s yer uncle.

Unfortunately, the reeds are hollow, so they are very damp. The people suffer from rheumatism and arthritis as they get older.

They used to make the ropes from these dried grasses, but modern, plastic rope lasts far longer in the water. I think this rope looks beautiful.

Men go fishing from midnight to 5 AM. They put down nets and get them in the afternoon.

Women go to farm on the mainland, and make handicrafts.

“The women never sit with their hands folded. They’re always making something.”

I can’t remember the names of the adults, but the little one is called Ana and she’s 5.

The women reenacted what it’s like to go to the market and barter.

Remember the bread with chocolate that I showed you yesterday? Today we gave half the bread to the people here. They loved it.

This is where little Ana lives, with her parents. After the reeds have dried, it takes around a week to make a house. Nowadays, they use plastic in between the layers in the roof to make it more waterproof.

It’s sunny for 300 days a year, so solar panels are a no-brainer if and when the village can afford them. Ana’s mother was very proud of her electric light.

They also weave their boats from the reeds.

“Young people use the boats for dating and go far away behind the reeds. Three people come back!”

Communal cooking. None of the huts have individual kitchens.

They had stalls set up to sell weaving and other souvenirs. At this stage of the trip, with only two more days in Peru, most of us were running low on Sol, and there was no internet to use cards. It was a shame, as we really wanted to support them.

Then they said that a ride on one of these boats would be 15 Sol or 5USD. I’m running very low on Sol, but I have USD. So I hopped on.

The women sang a traditional song to send us off, but then they broke into this. How funny!

Nikki took this shot, saying it was a great shot. Who am I to argue?

I saw this dog trying to find a quiet place to enjoy his snack.

As our boat was pulling out to go to the next island, I thought I’d show you the edge of a floating island. They have to put a new layer of reeds on top every two weeks, or else it’ll sink.

Those mountains on the other side? Bolivia.

As we arrived at the next island after. 90 minute boat ride, the captain of the boat said it was Paradise Island. There’s no Internet, no dogs, no cars, no supermarket,no policeman … sounds a bit like hell to me!

After walking UP a very steep hill, we reached the communal place. The men were getting ready to perform a dance, and behind them you can see the handicraft stalls set up by their wives.

I took a video of the dance, but I won’t inflict it on you. It was lots of pacing and a little bit of twirling.

As we thought, my Taiwan TripaDeal friend and I bumped into each other again at lunchtime.

I don’t normally take photos of food, but this was delicious. The people from this island rarely go out to fish, as they’re scared of the deep waters. They have trout farms instead.

The men are the ones that do the knitting here and it’s taken very seriously. Boys start learning from around 7 years of age.
When a man wants to marry a girl, he knits a hat like this one and takes it to her father, who fills it with water (or beer.) If water (or beer) runs through any holes in the knitting, that’s not good news.

This is a hat, knitted by the father, for a baby girl. See the brown? It represents the earth that nurtures us.

It’s white for a boy, like the snow capped mountains.

Everything that arrives and leaves the island must be hauled up by hand. There are no cars or trucks.

We left soon after lunch. It was such an interesting day!

Dad joke of the day:

Today was a massive travel day, from Cusco to a city called Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca. Terry and I were trying to remember which tv show from the 60’s or 70’s kept using Lake Titicaca as a running joke. Was it Get Smart?

Anyway, we had to leave the hotel before 5AM to catch a public bus for an 11 hour journey. It wasn’t 11 hours of uninterrupted driving. We had stops along the way.

We were making our way up into the Andes.

On the way to our first stop, Sally and Stephen got Claudio to race off the bus and bring back this still-warm bread with chocolate through it, to share with the bus.

Yesterday, Claudio collected 5 Sols (2AUD) from each person so we can take this sort of bread to the people on the floating islands on Lake Titicaca. They have no way of making it, so it’s a nice thing to do.
Sally and Stephen were curious to try some, and when they saw how big it was, they shared it with the whole bus.

It was delicious. I think it helped that the bread was still warm from the oven, as the chocolate was slightly gooey.

Our first stop was at one of the most beautiful churches I’ve ever seen. The Chapel of Andahuaylillas, a 17th-century church often called the “Sistine Chapel of the Andes” for its exquisite murals, intricate gold-leaf work and crazy Jesus lying in a coffin. (Maybe that last one was just me.)

This was the view of the main altar as you walk in. So far, so good.

But that Sistine Chapel of the Andes thing? I looked up.

How incredible is this?

While the rest of the group were gathered around today’s guide from the bus, I wandered around with my naughty phone. I really liked this ceiling.

He seems a bit nonchalant for the predicament he’s in.

This was in the arch above a door. It reminded me of the weaving patterns we’ve seen since coming here.

And here’s the weird Jesus I was referring to earlier.

This church had a fabulous gift shop, though. I bought my niece’s unborn baby a Christmas present here.

Then we were off to see an Incan temple a couple of hours down the road.

As we were driving, the bus guide told us that Peru has 3,500 kinds of potatoes… called papas.

Pope also called Papa.

He worked for nearly 30 years in Northern Peru, and has joint nationality with the US.

The Peruvians are very proud of him, and they say they now have 3,501 papas!

The walk up to the village was interesting. We passed by these huts, with evidence of both Inca and Spanish building. See how small the door is? The Inca built them small up in the mountains to keep the heat in.

These bulls were being walked to a big cattle market down the road.

You would expect to pay 8,000 Sol / 3,400AUD for the big bull.

5,000 Sol/ 2,100 AUD for the small one.

Alpaca? 800 Sol/ 340 AUD.

No wonder they like eating alpaca here.

When you have a shop or stall in Peru, it’s Bring Your Dog To Work Day everyday. How lovely.

This was the soundtrack of our shopping in this village while we were waiting for the bus guide to finish showing the Spanish speakers the temple first.

We rounded a corner and saw this. It was huge!

Raochi is the temple built for the runners and workers of the Inca trails. There were once 23,000 kms on the original Inca trails. Now there are 45 kms.

It was 12 m high.

Made from lava rocks, so the construction is different.

This temple was hugely important, as it was built for the god that oversees everything… the invisible god Wiracocha. He was the boss of everything.
Under him were the sun and moon, then beneath them all of the other gods.
This actually went some way towards answering the questions I had about why the Catholic Church is still so strong in Latin America today, 200 years after the Spanish and Portuguese were kicked out.

Both religions have the same basic structure. God, Jesus, the saints… it was a hierarchy that was familiar.

Corridor faces towards sunrise.

200 food storage huts. Food was distributed to the population during tough times. No one went hungry.

The first thing the Incas built when they added new tribes to their empire was food storage huts. The message was clear. You’re with now so you’ll never go hungry.

Here’s me at La Rays Pass, a mere 4,335 metres above sea level. Behind me is a glacier, to the right are many alpaca herds, and all around me are women selling their wares.

They didn’t sell anything to our bus, but they must sell stuff. They’re always knitting, producing more.

Our last stop of the day was a ceramic painting class. Seeing as how I have carryon, which means very few clothes with me, I elected to avoid paint anywhere near my clothes and go shopping instead.

I bought some bags for the girls, then some hats for the boys and a bracelet for Mum. Fortunately for the sake of my credit card, the class finished and we all headed off for the last couple of hours driving to the hotel.

Oh! I nearly forgot to tell you! Remember when Blogless Sandy and I were in Taiwan and there was a mother and son travelling together? They were the ones that made me decide to do the same thing with my kids.

Guess who I saw when I was leaving lunch, ready to get back on the bus? Well, she recognised me, to be fair. How funny that 3 months later, we bump into each other on a plateau in the middle of Peru, of all places!

Dad joke of the day:

This will be many photos and few words as it’s already 9PM and I have a 4:30AM start tomorrow.

Today was finally the day!

We were told that we’d see the sunrise, but that wasn’t ever going to happen. We weren’t scheduled to get onto the bus until 7AM. The queues were enormous, but in a surprisingly short period of time, we weren’t scheduled to on the public bus on the 25 minute ride up to Machu Picchu.
UP being the operative word. The shape of the hills all around Machu Picchu are also the shape of the hill that it’s built on.

The first thing we saw were these thatched huts that were used for food storage.

Llama fat covered the thatch to make it waterproof.

When we were on the top, Claudio pointed to different directions. To Brazil, to the coast, to Cusco etc. Part of what made this city so important to the Incas is that it had trails running along all directions to every corner of the empire.

You’d think that all the tourists here would ruin the ambience but it actually makes it easy to imagine what this place must’ve been like in its heyday. All the people walking around living, working in these buildings so high in the mountains. You hear their conversations, their footsteps, and the city is alive again.

They chose this place because of the location near the rainforest. There was abundant wildlife, to feed them while they built a big city to store food and it had many trade routes to Bolivia, Ecuador, Argentina, Brazil etc.

This place hummed with life, like a huge university, studying astronomy, agriculture, history, technology, engineering, medicine,  and biology. They brought people from all over the empire, the brightest of the bright, and they lived under the protection of the king.  

The city only ran for 100 years, and then it had to be abandoned. Destroying the Inca trails worked. The Inca treasures were safe here until an American found it in the early 1900’s and shipped the treasures back to the US. They’ve never been returned.

In 2003 George Bush snr promised to give the Machu Picchu treasures back.

Three years later, it was announced that Yale University now owns them.

Money talks…

And here’s the money shot.
The picture everyone has seen.

The walk to the top was easy. Yes, there are a lot of steps, and some are made from rocks and so are uneven, but I was getting nervous in the days leading up to the walk. Nearly everyone in my group was buying walking poles.
One pole, two poles… I was starting to wonder what they knew that I didn’t!

I nearly caved, but I thought of the Great Wall. I’d managed to climb those steps without walking poles, so surely I’d be ok here?

Of course I was. There are a lot of steps, as I said, but there are lots of places to stop, take a photo and get your breath back.

And there are plenty of excuses here to take photos. This place is spectacular.

The conquistadors found 200 Inca cities, and destroyed them all. Their orders from the king were to destroy everything and bring back all the gold and silver they could lay their hands on.

The people of the city left all the gold and silver in Vilkabamba, a nearby city. They thought they’d come back to Machu Picchu when the Spanish left.

The Spanish destroyed the Vilkabamba, and the people were killed by diseases that they had no resistance to. Smallpox, syphillis, etc. Fun times.

Cloud coming over the mountain.

This is the main gate that the Inca traders used. The actual gate was made of bamboo.

This semi circular room was the temple of the sun. This was the most important temple here.

Once a year, the king and priests sacrificed a llama.  🦙 

They’d use the organs to foretell the future.

They’d mix the llama blood with beer, and show it to the sun, then they’d pour it on the earth for Mother Nature.

The temple is quite small, as you can see. It was filled with gold statues, so that when the sunlight came through the windows, the light would bounce off and around the statues, filling the temple with golden light. I suppose that’s easier to do in a small room.

This is the rock they sacrificed the llamas on. Poor things.

Remember how I said that some of the group went to Rainbow Mountain, while the rest of us went to the salt mines? This is about the closest I’ll ever get to seeing Rainbow Mountain. Apparently this is not quite as bright as the original.

Claudio took us off the beaten track to show us the Temple of the Condor.

The condor is facing us, and the two big structures are the wings.

Condor was a messenger. It transfers your soul to the afterlife.

Once a year, they’d sacrifice a llama. Again. I was starting to get the feeling that the llamas here had a very limited lifespan.

The locals still leave offerings for the Incan gods, but nowadays the only things that lose their lives are coca leaves.

So how did I feel about this place?

It was never on my bucket list to come here. I knew people dreamed about going, but for me it was never a burn. It wasn’t until I came to Peru and started hearing about the history and seeing the landscape and the people that my interest was piqued.
By this morning, I was psyched to come. I woke up at 4AM and couldn’t get back to sleep.

I loved it. Seeing that iconic view with my own eyes was a very special experience. I was lucky to have a guide like Claudio, whose genuine enthusiasm ignited my own interest.

Will I be back? Well, you know me. There’s plenty more world to explore.
But I’m very, very happy I came here.

Dad joke of the day:

Just an Inca going about his business…

Today there was big excitement as we packed our overnight bags for 2 nights away. At last, we were heading towards Machu Picchu.

To be honest, Machu Picchu has never been on my bucket list of things that I must see or do. However, the more I’ve learned about it on this trip, the keener I am to see it.

We took the train to Aguas Calientes, otherwise known as Machu Picchu Town.

The train travelled at an ambling pace, taking an hour and 40 minutes to get there.

There was some spectacular scenery, including these donkeys earning their living along the Inca Trail.

It was a very pleasant way to begin our Machu Picchu adventure.

Once there, we walked through a huge market to our hotel. It’s right in the centre of town, which isn’t a given thing for TripaDeal, especially in China.

This one is so central, the train to Machu Picchu runs right by the front door. I’m on the 5th floor, directly above the tracks, but luckily the trains stop at 9 PM. 🤣

This place is almost like a pedestrian mall wedged in between huge, steep mountains. Claudio showed us around, but it only took about 10 minutes because it’s so small.

Then we had the rest of the day to ourselves.

It was 3PM when I was looking for lunch, so I decided to choose a big meal and call it Linner. (Lunch + dinner.)

This little cutie belongs to the owner of the cafe I ordered my burger and chips with free Pisco Sour. He’s what we call in Australia a Mexican Hairless, but the guy serving me was insistent that he was a Peruvian breed.

Afterwards, I gently perambulated around the town. It aids in digestion.

I visited the market, but every stall looked like this. I’ve pretty much bought everything I want to buy. I just haven’t bought any art.

This is outside my hotel. It reminds me of Train Street in Hanoi, but with a little more room.

Then Fortunate Frogdancer struck again. Literally right at the front door of our hotel, an artist was sitting there, plying his trade. Val from NZ came along at just the right moment. We chose two very similar paintings, got a 20AUD discount on each, and the deal was done!

I didn’t want a generic picture of Machu Picchu, or llamas wearing sunnies. This has the vivid colours of Peru, so I’m happy.

We have an early start tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll get there just before sunrise.

Dad joke of the day:

This morning we packed a bag for 2 nights, just as we did for the Amazon, and we started heading for the Sacred Valley of the Incas and Muchu Picchu.

The views all along here are spectacular. Though when I turned around…

… there were some gum trees. There are so many here. Every time I idly think that those trees over there look like proper trees, of course they’re gum trees.

I was so happy. We stopped at a tiny village for a toilet break, (1 sol payment, but she gave us toilet paper), and I saw a shop selling hats. AT LAST they had mesh as an inner covering, so now the kids going with me to Egypt have these fantastic hats.

Our first stop was Pisac, which looks like the open greenhouse we saw yesterday, but was actually a place that provided lots of food all year round. This one supplied Cusco, heading one way over the mountains, and Muchu Picchu, heading a different way.

They farmed the valley all the way to Machu Picchu. They terraced the hills to make more room.

They actually made wicking beds from the terraces, using clay to keep the water in. They didn’t need irrigation, as the wicking beds saved all the water, exactly as my wicking beds do today.

We’re at 3,400 metres elevation.

The elevation is still affecting people. One guy, who has the double whammy of having a cold and being a smoker, was having a hard time today.
I’m ok, but I’ve noticed that when I want to take a deep breath, sometimes it’s not as satisfying as it usually is.

The houses at the top of the terrace were for the privileged people. The labourers lived down at the bottom.

They used Guinea pigs like a living doona, as they didn’t use any internal heating. Families would share a bed, along with Guinea pigs when it got nippy. Imagine how cold it would get at night, especially during the rainy season when it rains nearly every day? I’d grab every guinea pig I could!

Inca mummies were buried in the caves in the cliffs, around 10 mummies per cave. This was the biggest Inca cemetery ever found.

The bodies were crouched, to make them smaller. Inside the shrouds were tucked food, jewellery, toys, instruments of their trades, to take with them to the afterlife.

Most were destroyed by looters. It wasn’t the Spanish, as they never discovered them. The cliffs were covered with thick vegetation.

It was people in the 1980’s with metal detectors.

Llamas are wandering around free, undisturbed except for tourists wanting a selfie with them.

In the van again. I kept dozing off, but I saw these triangular hills.

Claudio pointed these pods out to us. You have to hike two hours up the mountain to get to your pod. It’s totally self-contained, and you spend the night suspended from the side of the mountain. The cheapest one is 600USD a night.

Two seconds later as our van kept moving, we saw hikers on their way to a night of bliss… or terror, depending on their faith in the machinery holding them up there.

After a huge buffet lunch, we drove to Ollantaytambo, a name that really rolls off the tongue. Quite apart from the Inca ruins, this is a terrific market town. Practically everyone bought something.

Ta da! I bought a dog-walking poncho.

Alpaca. All undyed. Babybaby.

This place was the gateway to go to Muchu Picchu. The buildings at the top of the hill are a temple to the Sun. The reason they moved huge rocks to the top of the hilltop was to be closer to the gods.

They were always watching the skies and these hills framed the Milky Way for them.

There were 7 different trails to get to Machu Picchu from different Inca cities. The trails were paved with small rocks to make it easier to pass. When it was realised just how destructive the Spanish conquistadors were, people moved the stones of the paving into the scrub and planted grass and plants. Fortunately, the plants had time to grow.

Six years later, when the Spanish and indigenous peoples had finished fighting, the Spanish were unable to ever find Machu Picchu. When the conquistadors arrived here, they asked for directions to any cities in the area.

The people here used gold statues on the cliffs leading away from Machu Picchu as a treasure hunt. The Spanish were led to a really big city. The Spanish destroyed the city and killed many people.
It would have really sucked to be them, but it saved Machu Picchu as an intact time capsule.

Most of our group climbed up to the top of the mountain, but I thought I’d save my leg muscles for Machu Picchu in two days’ time. As I was walking around the market, I saw what I swear must be Scout’s cousin!

Look. His little face is exactly like hers. I messaged Izzy to see how the dogs were doing.
“They are very energetic hahaha, and love cuddles all the time.”
Hopefully that means Hazel has recovered from her separation anxiety.

On our way out, these little girls offered to sing and dance for us. The second the song was over, the hats turned into tip receivers. They’re learning how to milk the tourists early. 😀

Dad joke of the day:

The group split up today. A few of us went to see Rainbow Mountain, but most of us chose the more varied tour on offer.

Unfortunately, I was sitting on the wrong side of the van, so there were reflections on the window. I tried my best. Also, it’s really hard to get photos from a van. You have absolutely no warning if something interesting is approaching and then whoosh! It’s gone.

This is low- lying morning cloud over Cusco as we climbed the road out of the city.

The locals feed the stray dogs and the dogs stay near houses that feed them and protect the houses. “You never see a thin dog in Peru,” said Claudio.

We were talking about this in the taxi coming home from dinner. It’s true. We’ve all seen scrawny dogs around the world, but not in Peru.

The Peruvian people are not fond of Trump. At all.

They used to buy their petrol from Venezuela. Ever since Trump kidnapped the Venezuelan president, the United States has taken all of Venezuela’s oil. Peru doesn’t have its own oil, so now they are buying it from Mexico at vastly higher prices.

People living here in the Andes have a life expectancy between 90 – 100 years old. 

People in the cities? 70 – 90 years.

They have a simpler life, their food is pure and organic and they have less stress. They are living the lives their ancestors lived. Arthritis gets them, though.

The houses are adobe.

Look at all the blue doors in Maras!

Donkeys! Everyone loves a donkey or two.

This is quinoa. I could make a quilt out of these colours.

These women are harvesting ocra. I’ve tasted this before, when my friend Bev with the food forest gave me some. It’s crunchy and sweet.

We are at the top of the sacred valley of the Incas. Tomorrow we go down, and the next day we travel by train through the mountain to reach Machu Picchu. 

5,680 metres elevation.

The biggest laboratory.  The Incas used this place to experiment with agriculture. There are 23 microclimates in this layered place.

They believe that the Incas found a conical shape in the ground and engineered around it. There are 6 months of rain water here, plus there’s a spring running underneath. Perfect for growing plants, and with a rapidly growing population, the Incas required secure food sources.

3,600 metres elevation here; higher than Cusco. They brought seed from the coast and the jungle. Planted them from top to bottom and saw what grew where. Cacao, tropical fruit, potato, corn, beans, squash etc.

Tobacco, cotton, and medicine. 

They were able to learn how to feed, clothe and nurture 12 million people.

Where we’re sitting, above the laboratory, it’s 16C.

Down below, up to 29C. There’s a different temperature on each terrace. In effect, it’s a greenhouse.

For 300 years, they used this place. The conquistadors came and found thousands of people living and working here.  

They grew exotic plants in the Sacred Valley. They were started here and then transplanted in the cities and villages that needed the food.

Machu Picchu has its own Inca greenhouse.

1635, the conquistadors arrived. 4 years later, the Incas decided to escape into the mountains and they took all their knowledge with them.

Those who stayed, became slaves for 300 years.

On the way to the salt mines, we stopped at a local place that taught us about the different kinds of salt, and also how the salt was actually produced.
They said they were a small family business, just starting out. I may have bought a present for my nearest and dearest…

40,500 pools. 

The salt crystallises in the dry season. It takes 25 days to crystallises in 3 levels.

1. Diabetes, tired etc. Good
2. Pink salt. Very good with Guinea pig.
3. Medicine salt.

The women dance on the salt and break it down and harvest it.

The men pack and lift the 50kg bags of salt. They take them to the drying sheds where they are emptied out and left for 6 weeks to dry in the sun. Then, the bags are repacked.

The spring water here is saltier than the ocean. This is 3,600 metres high

The owners of the salt mine are the people of Maras. The money we spend here stays here.

It was originally discovered by pre-Incas, but when the Incas arrived, they added channels along the walls of the ponds to continually fill with salty water.

The Incas left them alone to make salt. 

The Spanish took over control of the salt and introduced currency so the people had to buy their own salt. From 1530 – 1820 the Spanish sent a lot of money to Spain from this place.

Now, after 300 years as slaves, the people now own the salt again.

Each pond is about 50 cms. In 3 days, it evaporates. They do this 3 times before they harvest it. They scoop the salt off, just like I did in the salt lake in Dimboola.

The white ponds are almost ready to harvest.

The brown ones have been filled for the first time.

Working with the salt makes you blind. People work early in the morning and late in the afternoon.

They only make salt in the dry season. Rain falling on the salt forming isn’t good for it.
The spring water comes through the roots of a volcano to the left of us. It washes the minerals and salts into these pools.

On the way back to Cusco, we stopped at a weaving shop.

They fed us a simple lunch of a fritter and baked potato, which was very welcome at 2:30PM!

Here are the balls of alpaca wool they’ve ed and spun, placed in with the plants that gave them their colours.

Boil the plants for one hour with the wool and it absorbs the colour. The red was made by cochineal beetles. They are pests that attack the cactuses. Yes, it’s the same cochineal we use in baking.

I bought a hat, some wool and a woven table runner. They’re lovely.

At 5:30 we met up to go to a goldsmith’s shop, and walked through streets crowded with revellers celebrating the last day of the Cusco Festival. It was a long walk, but the experience of walking through the happy crowds was amazing. How lucky we were to experience this!

As we got closer to the city square the crowds grew denser. Claudio asked us to line up one by one behind him and to follow the TripaDeal flag through. Somehow, we formed a conga line and started dancing along to the rhythm of the music. Smiles from everyone around us!

The air was full of the aromas of food cooking, the sound of music and people chattering and singing… it was amazing to be a part of it.

This is how silver looks when it comes out of the ground.

Of course, you need to see gold as well.

Here’s an ounce of gold, worth just over 4K in today’s market.

Our group dinner was a real surprise. It was a gourmet degustation menu, with one of the courses being guinea pig. I was rapt, because it saved me from looking for it on every menu in Peru.

I liked it. To be honest, I think guinea pigs are useless pets. You may as well eat them.

The people from Rainbow Mountain had a great time and said it was stunning, but they all struggled with the altitude and a couple of them had to have oxygen.
I’m perfectly happy with our day. We saw so much and learned so much!

Tomorrow, we pack an overnight bag for two nights. Guess what’s coming up in a couple of days???

Dad joke of the day: