Ignoring the Altitude

Cusco, the once mighty capitol of the Inca empire, is now the center of the archeological universe in the Americas and the hopping off point for the thousands of tourists who come to Peru each year to see Machu Picchu. It is also at an elevation of 3360m (over 10,000 feet ASL) which can quickly knock out any tourist who has just arrived and is not used to the altitude. People are warned to take it easy their first day and abstain from smoking and drinking.

I was up at 6am to grab a taxi to the airport in Lima. My taxi was a little odd to say the least. I asked him how long it would take to arrive - he said 15 minutes. I knew it would take about 30. He went down not one, but two one-way streets the wrong way. And he stopped at a gas station to fill up along the way, hopping out without turning off the car and filling up. He looked surprised when I stepped out of the car until he was finished. Closing in on the airport, he asked me a question. He looked quite serious but I had no idea what he was saying. I told him I didn`t understand. He repeated himself, louder. It didn`t help and I told him as much. He started pointing at signs and talking faster. I had no idea what he wanted. So I pointed at one of the signs. 30 seconds later we pulled up to a toll booth. He wanted to know if I wanted to pay 50 cents for the express lane. Ah. Sure, here`s 50 cents. I was dropped off, on time, and thanked him.

The flight was full of gringos. Everyone goes to Cusco after flying into Lima. I slept half the time, the other half spent admiring the mountain range we were flying over. When we arrived, the airport was much smaller than I expected, and a bit like a circus. Little costumed music bands played flute music. People were all over me suggesting hotels and hostels. Two women offered their services in finding a taxi. I politely declined. 20 minutes later I arrived at my hostel and found I had been completely ripped off by my taxi. Mental note: The airport staff aren`t trying to rip you off.

My hostal was on a hill looking out over Cusco. According to Lonely Planet, expats restored this 450 year old national monument of a building from near ruin and turned it into a ridiculously huge party hostal. But with hot water and free internet. During my stay I am sure I saw several people who never left the compound. This was the first time I was staying in a full dorm. I would be sharing a room with 9 other people. These were not quiet people. Nor did doing lines in front of me seem to bother them very much. But hey, for $7 a night, what could I say. Maybe, "Dan, don`t be so cheap". This was not the best idea I had, especially before hiking the Inca tail - arguably the one time I needed a full night`s rest.

But I was here. I unloaded my pack and decided to walk the city. It was beautiful. Cusco`s economy is built primarily on tourism. 70% of it derives from tourism annually. And they seem to want to keep it booming. The city is clean, it`s pretty, it`s friendly. There were kids every where selling postcards, "original" paintings, bracelets, everything. And they were persistant. But I had a nice stroll.

After being asked for the seventh time if I wanted to massage, I decided to dart into a restaurant for an early dinner and watch some soccer. When it started to get dark, I made my way back to my hostal. In an attempt to meet people, I went to the hostal bar for a drink before going to bed early and acclimatizing. People were clustered in groups. I sat at the bar. Figure skating was on. I was suddenly very lonely in a room full of people. I don`t think I have ever had a beer and watched figure skating. This trip is full of firsts.

Finally I bucked up and started talking to an Austrailian two chairs down from me. He was on a four month round-the-world trip and had just flown in from the States. Good, something in common. Actually, Austailians are about the easiest people to talk to any where. Almost as friendy as the Irish. And we chatted for a while. Eventually, after two grande beers, a Swiss guy entered the conversation. Another grande beer later, an Irish gal, who was also a designer, entered the conversation. Gin & tonics were passed around. Shots were ordered. A suggestion was made that we all go to the dance club in the main plaza. I made a feeble attempt to abstain, citing the need to rest and and get used to the altitude first. This was refuted as just silly. They had been here two days and were fine. Shoot, I had no argument. I went with them.

There was more drinking. There were tall tales from other countries. Brits dominated the group and one should never try to keep up with a Brit while drinking. I remembered this much. But it was already too late. By the time I switched to ordering bottles of water, the damage had long since been done. I looked at my watch: it was 6:30am. I mumbled something about needing to leave. And out in the bright streets I went. When did morning come?

Friday, the day that I was going to go all out - after a day of acclimatizing - was spent mostly in bed. I drank enough water to keep me steadily running to the bathroom. And from my bed, after my second day, I finally felt like I had acclimatized to Cusco.

To see pics of my time in Cusco, follow this link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157603475125371/