I decided to spend new year's eve here - awkward considering I usually work new year's eve and don't need to be bothered with finding something useful to do. However, not much was going on in Lima - a stretch of road that Lonely Planet said would have reams of bars and clubs was wholly empty save for a stretch of market that smelled of garbage and was filled with it too. I wandered around a bit and found very few bars, but the pedestrian malls were packed with people buying silly hats and copies of CDs and movies.
The real fun began around midnight, when all of the residential roads became engulfed in red light with hundreds of bonfires - piles of old pillows and chairs and phone books that people threw together and torched alight, perhaps some ritual to do with absolving oneself of the old and sending it into the sky, the past, and beginning anew. And of course no new year's celebration could be complete without kids and teenagers lighting firecrackers and bottle rockets into the sky, pops and rattles like gunfire ringing through the street deep into the night. It began to smell of burning garbage, and with police everywhere, the sound of fireworks ringing through every block and impromptu bonfires thrown together by locals, it was like a mini-revolution, possibly the closest one could get without having the real thing take place. It was fun to witness for awhile, but there was little reason to stay up really late, and I packed it in early around 2am, getting ready for the next step o f the journey.
Yes, I can be faulted for just doing the typical mega-tourist thing here in Peru, but that's because I have my eye on researching something a little out of the ordinary - more on that later. Early in the morning I pushed and shoved the guy sleeping beside the half-full bottle of liquor in the lobby of the hotel, rang the doorbell several times, seriously contemplated leaving without paying, and eventually left the key and 20 US dollars in the keybox behind the desk, and caught the next flight out to Cuzco. The descent was not much of a descent, and I walked from the airport into town - a decent way to get one's bearings, though I did lose my way several times - Cuzco is a crowded and winding little town with plenty of pedestrian malls.
I was wondering why I was heaving and my heart pumping like a Geo Metro on the freeway walking up some steep roads. I wasn't carrying much, but after an early dinner which included a large beer and a cappucino I stood up and my head immediately started pounding with every step I took - it was the altitude. Exerting yourself on your first day at this altitude is best avoided - though I won't be sticking around for too long.
Cuzco is an amazingly beautiful town though - several churches all cluttered together, clean streets and all of the amenities any tourist could need. A huge variety of food and accomodation are available to cater to the lowliest penny-pinching backpácker to the most affluent package tourists. I found a quiet place with a private room and private bathroom with hot water for a whole USD7 a night. In spite of being overrun by tourism, it stands as a great place to visit, on par with European cities which have adapted and live around tourism, even if it is their central industry. The tourist industry doesn't exist here as some fly by night or recently erected get-rich-quick scheme with every local hanging onto every wandering tourist, it is as sophisticated as possible and set in a scenic city. Definitely worth a visit regardless of your demographic preferences.
Tomorrow it will be an early rise as I join the tourists on the train up to Maccu Piccu. Apparently if you want to stay at the village nearest the ruin, Aquas Caliente, you need to take the train v ery early - three go up in the morning and come back in the afternoon. In fact, I could say though that there could be better organization for how to reach Maccu Piccu. There is a focus here on getting tourists out to smaller Incan ruins, which is fine, but for those of us on short schedules it would be nice if they just paved a six lane highway up the mountain, charged us twenty bucks a piece to get in, and hassled us to death with touts and hawkers each carrying a chunk of cardboard concealing a bracelet and a few postcards.
Yes, I'm being facetious. Or maybe it's the altitude getting to me - my head is throbbing. I need to go see a waiter about this, there's an Irish pub nearby that serves Guinness.
Maccu Piccu Piccers!
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