KYLE – You know what the funniest thing about Peru is?

JULES – What?

KYLE – It’s the little differences. A lotta the same shit we got here, they got there, but there they’re a little different.

JULES – Examples?

KYLE – Well, in Arequipa, you can buy cola in a 3.120L bottle. Not 3.0L, becuase I guess that just isn’t enough. In Lima, you can buy beer at MacDonald’s. Also, you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Lima?

JULES – They don’t call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?

KYLE – No, they got the metric system there, they wouldn’t know what the fuck a Quarter Pounder is.

JULES – What’d they call it?

KYLE – Cuarto De Libra Con Queso.

JULES – Cuarto De Libra Con Queso. What’d they call a Big Mac?

KYLE – Big Mac’s a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.

JULES – What do they call a Whopper?

KYLE – Whopper’s a Whopper but on the bill it’s called Brava.

JULES – goddamn!

(Note to readers: you can obtain Heinz ketchup at Burger King, but only in sizes fit for a new born baby.)

My time in Peru has been spectacular, enlightening, sad, depressing, and memorable. Last nights Christmas dinner was amazing. 140 people, 12 turkeys, all the trimmings, groups of tables randomly breaking into Christmas carols, The Beatles tunes, Oasis, Radiohead, Bryan Adams, Don McLean etc. The night before was depressing, as I walked through the main plaza after enjoying a lovely Alpaca steak I had to negotiate a maze of bodies, intertwined amungst each other, trying to sleep, and avoid the falling rain. These were the villagers that had come down on the night of December 23rd to set up for the huge market on December 24th. Hands upheld, trying to guilt and steal any money from you that they can. But, alas, you can’t give money to all of them, as much as you feel you should. As we drank and danced the night away, a walk out to the clubs terrance reveals a plaza of filth, garbage, children, and fire. With the firecrackers going off people described it as a tame Baghdad.

(Note to readers who know: I busted out The Shitko at the club. It goes over in Cusco as it does in Waterloo — which means well.)

I sit now in Lima, arriving a day before I depart for Canada, to ensure I made it back to the city. I feel in limbo, a state of pergatory. Nothing to really do but wait for the final taxi to the airport.

See you for New Years Canada.

All good things must come to an end.

But I cannot say that.

Things are just getting started. It’s nearly Christmas.

The plaza has been blocked off for a giant market that takes place on December 24th, and final preperations have begun on giant nativity scenes out front the churches with real grass. There have been Christmas trees around for weeks, but now we are begining to see a more religious note to the celebration.

At the hostel, on Christmas day, they are having a full dinner with Turkey and all the trimings.

Things are just getting started.

See more photos of Cusco on my flickr.

Helen had always feared that it would be an anticlimax, that something dreamed of for a lifetime would inevitably be smaller than the dream. She had lived so much of her life in the imagination that it was for her more powerful than reality. But what towered before her was greater than anything she might have conjured. Photographs were as ashes to a live body. Nothing captured Machu Picchu, a kingdom ruined but alive.”

“The power was not just in the configurations of stones, but in the awesome setting. A thousand feet below, the Urubamba river churned through the gorge that cut around the base of the mountain. Surrounding them a circle of snow-covered peaks and green ranges towered into a dazzling sky. The Citadel at the centre.”

from Into the Fire, by Linda Davies

Just got back from the 4 day Inca Trail Hike. Wow. Words cannot describe it, so thankfully I have many pictures. Going to have to go pay for internet tomorrow to put some on the net, as the hostel doesn´t have CD drives.

Worth every penny.

See more photos of Machu Picchu on my flickr.

Sunday I took an all day trip to The Sacred Valley. This is a fertile valley nestled between two peaks (obviously) that is lush and and green. The Inck’s farmed there, and the present day people also grown corn and rise there. Me, I say they drop in a golf course and really make some money. As the bus wound along the mountain side roads, I could invision par 5´s and 4´s, cut into the trees, along the river, banked by the montain walls. We stopped at a ‘traditional’ market (sucker the tourists into buying stuff, therefore NOT traditional). I have been really good with markets and street venders the entire trip, mostly because I refuse to carry any extra items. Alas I finally gave in. Though I like to think I made the purchase becuase I negoiated the bargin on the year. I picked up a Charango, which is like a small 10 string guitar. He wanted 250 soles for it. I got it for 150, with a case, and a professional pan-pipe.

The Charango is made of real Armadilo, that’s how you know it’s good.

I wasn´t really thinking when i made the purchase, and got caught up in the bargining. He was giving me this sob story about how he needs money for Christmas. I wasn´t going for it. I made the purchase entirely on the price. $50 is about half of what they are in the city. But as i was saying. I wasn´t thinking. It seems Armadilo is illegal, and getting it out of Peru, and into Canada may pose a problem. I should have gone for the wooden one. I blame the tour on this. They give you 40 min to scour this hige market. I was a victim of time. I may try go back and introduce the concept of ‘exchange’ to the Peruivian people.

I depart for the Inca trail in 20 min. A 4 day hike to Machu Picchu.I am really looking forward to it. I got the same guide as this girl Tammy from Calgary that I met. He is very energetic, and charismatic. My group is only 8 people. I will not meet them till today. Seems I also have a porter included in my price. I am allowed to give him up to 8kg of stuff. Jokes on them, I don´t own that much. So, the plan I came up with is to wrap a 7kg rock in a towel, and have him carry that for 4 days.

I was crying the idea was so funny. Just like the Tobbogan story.

(The lead photo was snagged from this flickr and is used under CC)

Staying at a hostel on the island I met 2 Canadians, and 2 British birds. We got to hanging out in the evening, and playing cards and this Danish guy had us playing Invisible Ball.

The rules will sound familiar to some of you. You pass an invisible ball around the table. Use your left hand to move it one to the right, and your right hand to move it one to the left. A single fist causes the ball to skip the next person in the circle, and a double fist causes it to skip two people. Lastly you can pick up this ball and pass it to anyone in the circle. Does this sound familiar to anyone?

Naturally I was very good at this game.

Another game involved animal sounds, and passing the proverbial potato by making the noise of someone else in the circle.

I´ll be departing Copacabana in 30min or so, and have a few final thoughts. It´s a nice town, but not one that I could spend more then a day or so in. It´s too laid back. It´s too hippy. Too bohemian.

And this one bar blasts Coldplay and Nickelback into the streets all day. That alone is reason enough to hop the next bus to Puno.

So, Copacabana is very laid back. I think Reuben would fall completely in love with this town, and not want to leave. ‘Thankfully’ he did not come on the trip with me. It has a very hippie vibe. The archetypal/stereotypical backpacker place. Everyone with dreads, everyone wearing these coloufrul hemp type jackets I recall being popular in grade 6 (circa 1993?). Haven´t seen any drugs, but I can feel them ozzing out of every bar, and lounging on every patio.

Got a small case of heat stroke today, as I didn´t drink enough water, and went sans hat. A little siesta, and a litre of water fixed me up good. I knew the sun was strong, even though at 3800m it’s not overly hot. Those UVA/UVB rays will get ya. It occured hiking up this hill next to Copacabana. The city is situated between two peaks.

Lastly, I am off to Isle Del Sol tommorow. I hear fantastic things. It´s supposed to have great views. Will spend the night there, then catch a boat back on Thursday, heading to Puno the same day.

Time is running short, and my trip is nearing its end.

See more photos on my flickr.

Day 2 saw us rise at 7am and began our walk to the oasis at 8am. The walk took us across the canyon and through remote mountain villages. Some did have power lines down to them, but others did not. The villlages were pretty quiet, and I assume the folk were out working the fields, or in town selling their fare. We reached the oasis after about 3h of walking. As we didn´t follow any tour groups this day, we didn´t take any alternative routes, however that is not to say we didn´t have some forks in the road to mull over. Decending down again to the oasis, and natrually feed pools provided the ideal setting to relax away the afternoon. Lounging by a pool surounded by valley walls, and the constant voices of rushing water.

Day 3 began at 4am, because a bus must be caught to get back to the city by 5pm. The early rise is also due to the Condors. It seems the canyon is known for its Condors. Sadly it is not really Condor season, and they are few and far between. Their lose I suppose. They had only one opportunity to see me. So there we were, 50 or so tourists (some had come from Arequipa just to see the Condors) standing at a cliff look out, looking. It reminds me of the moose crossing signs back home. How do the moose know to cross there, and how do the Condors know to fly here? No condors were seen. Sadly the bus back to Chivy (town where you must switch buses to get back to Arequipa) was extremly packed. It seems had I been a few people back in line to get on, I could have spent the 2h ride on the roof. Man, I would have loved to have ridden on the roof. The people I talked to that were up their said the view was fantastic, and you only had to be mindful of the power lines.

Time is flying to fast, so tomorrow I catch a bus with an Irish couple to Puno, with the intent being to catch another bus to Copacabana (the original), in Bolivia.

Oh, I also shaved off my awful beard. Just couldn´t keep it going. Besides, it´s a crime to hide this mug from the people of the world.

See more photos of the canyon as well as Arequipa on my flickr.

And I don’t care.

Alas, Peru has horrible ketchup. Right here, right now, I beg Heinz to get your product into the restarants. I cannot, will not, and have not, enjoyed their version of ketchup. It doesn’t even deserve to be called ketchup. It is a red paste, with little red flecks that look like they were scrapped off of a ketchup chip.

I cannot wait until I can enjoy a proper bottle of ketchup again.

Tomorrow I embark on a 3 day trek in the Colca Canyon. I could have spent $45US, but instead elected to do it on the cheap. 15sole bus to canoyn (exact same bus the tour companies take you on) $7US entry fee, then 7sole a night to stay in the canyon. Heck, I’m sure I will be able to follow a proper tour if I really wanted. Just hang back 10 feet. Reuben, you’d be proud (for a few reasons that you are aware).

Back in 3 days.