Ninoska was already gone by the time we had woken up and Luiz was there for a short time before going out to settle his affairs with the bus company for his ride to Nasca. He asked if we would still be there when we returned but really neither of us had a definite answer for him. He left and Blake turned on the tv hoping to continue the Star Wars series that we had been watching the night before. It had ended with Return of The Jedi so naturally it would go to The Phantom Menace next, George Lucas's brilliant idea of making 4,5 and 6 first and then 1,2 and 3 later, not so surprising I guess, it is a space opera after all..Amazingly as soon as he turned it on it was the classic ascending blue type so characteristic of the franchise, Long, long ago in a Galaxy far far away... STAR WARS! So we watched the whole movie and then it went into how each of the original movies were made, how Lucas nearly killed himself trying to make the movies his way, while keeping the franchising rights and also funding all of it himself. Its a great story, we enjoyed it.When it was over Blake suggested that we drink the San Pedro again and go to the Temple of the Moon as Ninoska had planned for us. I wasn't convinced it was such a good idea and muddled around avoiding the commitment while Blake took the initiative and began to drink without me, and this time out of the 2.5 liter bottle that had been cooked an hour longer than the other batch. Seeing my troubles and usually knowing just what to say to give me the necessary kick in the pants, Blake laid on me a phrase he's been known to use before, "analysis is paralysis Danny." With a short and muffled sigh I reached for my cup and pored myself a dose.But it didn't end there. After we had both finished our cups we pored another half and drank that too. Perhaps to ensure the full experience but mostly I think, so that there would be no going back before the day was nearly over and everyone was home. It was 1pm, we got some green grapes at the market, a smidgen less than a kilo for 10 soles, we didn't feel like paying her 12 for the full. You get the sense around these markets that your always being screwed, even Ninoska has trouble getting the fair price from the vendors, but were always standing right behind her when shes asking the price, they see the gringos purse attached somehow to hers and make the leap, no harm in asking right?We found a driver willing to take us to the Temple, we knew it was 20 soles to get there, but the driver asked for 30 and with the San Pedro slowly creeping into us already, I suppose we were more apt to pay a little extra to get there in good time. Even so, the ride was much shorter than I expected and me being the penny pincher I am while traveling felt taken for a ride of another sort as we were dropped off.Getting out of the van, we came to a small barbed wire fence and passed through onto a field that stretched in all directions for several miles There was a village to the right and another in the narrow of the valley much further ahead of us. We continued on the dirt path towards a large mound of rock that could be seen from nearly anywhere in the area. Passing an elderly man walking with slow patient steps, saying hello as we passed, we rounded a mud-brick building and were soon climbing the ancient steps that surrounded the Temple.There were many people about, Peruvians, Foreigners and guides to suit both. As soon as we climbed the ridge there where 5 gringos smoking Marijuana in a nook beside the ancient alter, we said hello and quickly passed them with a smile between ourselves.According to mainstream archaeology the temple is the same age as the Incan Empire, a belief held by many and propagated by the governments and institutions who benefit from a seemingly clean cut answer. Unfortunately for them, it isn't so simple. The Inca's never built anything like this again in their own time, they simply inherited the ruins from much older civilizations and built much less sophisticated structures around them. Main stream archaeology suggests that the less sophisticated structures were built first, but none of them are built under the ruins they're all build around them, and if the technology used to build them came later, how come no knowledge of it survived?In addition to this, there are numerous indications of weatherization totally inconsistent with the 500 year time frame of the Incan empire, the state of the rock in the temple indicates several thousand years worth of rainfall, snow and other elemental damage, making the 500 year time span a ridiculous suggestion. This however is not unique to the ruins in Peru, there are countless other examples all over the world. So why try to convince people were a much younger species than we really are?Well, you try to convince the 2.5 Billion Christians the world isn't 15,000 years old, or that dinosaurs exist, or that everything everyone's ever been told was always a convenient lie to keep them in an intellectual prison. It's not just religion that binds us to a meager understanding of the world, everything from Mass Media, our peer groups and society at large keep us in the box we were born to live in. The truth is the people who have the most power have the most to lose and are scared shitless we'll all walk away from their massive treadmill of death and taxes.Yet I digress..We really didn't want to be around other people for our trip, so we went down the western side of the temple, found some caves that went underneath the complex and found places probably used to sleep carved straight into the walls, there seemed to be cave art on the walls, but my iPhones flashlight wasn't strong enough to pierce the strange darkness that consumed the dwelling.Leaving the cave and coming out into the open field we decided to head for the caves visible in the hills perhaps 1200 meters away. When we were almost there I felt a large bulge in my throat and gagged as I spat grapes and other anomalous greens and oranges on to the dirt between my feet. Blake has disappeared in between the trees ahead of me and after finishing my expulsion I continued on in search of him. Rounding the corner and coming to a small passage leading into a cave system that had a skylight directly above it with 3 entrances and exists in a triangular shape, I saw Blake setting up his speaker on a large rock that lay where it had fallen from the now open skylight.We were all alone, and from the Eastern facing exit of the cave we could see a large portion of Cusco, the surrounding villages and the Temple of the Moon itself, with the mountains rising high above us to the West. As the San Pedro elevated our senses and drew us closer to the rocks and the plants that were all around us, we sat and meditated for several hours.Every few minutes a plane would take off or land from the massive airstrip that dominated the Northern portion of Cusco, flying between the mountain ranges and then making a sharp right through a gap in the peeks. Back in Lima Nino had told us it was actually a pretty difficult maneuver for the pilots, especially when the weather wasn't so good.We could always see the people coming and going from the Temple, although it is an impressive site, most tourists never see it because the companies that do the tours can't get their buses near enough to the temple, the people must walk a fair distance, and the same distance back, and thus taking up too much time, and time, is money... We were glad though, it ensured a mostly clear view of the complex for us and also kept our little spot completely off the touristic radar.Eventually the sun reached a low enough point in the sky for us to take one last look around, enjoy the sights and take in the sweet unpolluted air that flowed freely through the area above the city. We descended from the hills and walked along the cow pastures in the valley below, unfortunately I was too eager in my stride and walked right into a mud pit, soaking my crocks and socks with a thick, mineral rich mud, that had a pungent earthly fragrance too. Luckily I had brought an extra pair of socks, and there was a nearby pond for me to clean off my crocks.After exiting the field through the same barbed wire fence we came through in the beginning, and having no intention of paying the same 30 soles to return home, we walked along the side of the road for what must have been an hour and half or more. We thought of taking one of the many side streets and long steep steps that short cut through the hills and into the city below, we almost did too, but looking out across the city in the state we were in, even after 5 hours having passed, we chose to remain with the option we knew would get us home safely, even if it would take twice as long, a good practice in the psychedelic experience, believe me...We really didn't know where we were until reaching the market that was just up the street from Ninoskas house, but that was all the clue we needed. Making it to the house with no light remaining in the sky we rang the doorbell and were let in by Humberto who used the remote that each phone in the building has on its panel.Humberto had shaved his beard, it was a new face, but a welcomed addition to the group. Humberto had never done San Pedro and either I was trippin or he didn't know how to react to us while on it. Either way, we quickly got into the groove of things, listened to music and decided to go out to the marketplace for dinner supplies. Ninoska, Humberto, Luiz, Blake and I left the house and went down the alley towards the main drag next to the University, where all the students hung out. Luiz had his skateboard with him, it had big ole polyurethane wheels on it and a good balance too. Humberto gave it a shot, and we tried to get Ninoska to ride it, but after Luiz got on it with a little too much enthusiasm and stopped short on a rock in the road flying from the board and taking a dive on the pavement, she opted for a brisk walk instead. Which was fine because Blake took charge from there and channeled Tony Hawk for the rest of the adventure.Once we got to the super market Blake and I realized how off we were in the whole scene and opted to wait outside while the others purchased the goods. I gave Humberto 20 soles and we returned home, with Blake snaking his way through the crowds on the board, his new tan poncho flailing in the cross winds, we were back in no time.Humberto did the cooking while I did all the prep work and the others sat on the couch watching two Peruvian soccer teams battle it out. It was a lovely meal, the best we've had so far for sure. I shared pictures of our families back home, we listened to some more music and one by one each of us faded away into our beds, ready or not, for the goodbyes that tomorrow would bring.
Choquequiro - Final Ascent
Getting up early as usual, our invisible patron showed himself at last as we were putting our tent away. The cost for our stay upon his land was 33 cents. As we slowly marched up the mountain, thoughts of our final destination for the day spurred us onward. A final photo shoot, this time with a group of young people, stopped us as we reached the lookout point for the mid-valley. They shared bananas with us and we argued the fine points of organic littering, due to Blake dropping his peel on the ground, and we were off once again.Once we made it to the house on the edge of the mountain, the one with the elderly couple who let us stay in the cow flats,we got a KR lemon soda, we wanted Sprite but no such luxury was afforded us. It was a sad consolation prize, especially since it has aspartame in it but it gave us some much-needed energy so It wasn't all bad.While we were there a group of 3 hikers came, 2 from Australia and one from Germany. We gave them the advice we were givin, plus whatever we thought they could use as food for thought. They thanked us and went onwards down the trail towards the ruins.We waited an hour and a half for a taxi and took it back to cachora. The driver asked for 10 soles each but I saw the others give 5 so I did the same and the old man accepted it without a fuss. When we got to the taxis waiting in town the driver tried to charge 10 each for us, thinking it was a rip off we refused. Another driver exited the nearby cafe and said the same price, explaining that it was not possible to exit the same road we came down on for some reason and that we would have to go a longer way to the top. So we agreed and drove what truly was a longer way back to Raymond.When we got there we waited alongside the road for a local bus to come. Blake became impatient and wanted to take a taxi Curiwassi. Just as he said this a taxi driver who had been sitting on his hands on the other side of the road, offered to take us there for 5 soles each, we unanimously agreed and joined him in the car. A short while later and a few extra passengers picked up along the way, we reached Curiwassi. From there we got in a van and were taken back to Cusco for 15 soles each. We were stopped by the police and our driver had to go into the police station but quickly rejoined us and continued on.A little while later we passed a semi that hd flipped over on the road, several workers were engaged in trying to dig out the undercarriage in order to get it back on its wheels. When we finally returned to Cusco, we entered the first nice restaurant we saw and had the most expensive meal for either of us so far, 2 pizzas, 2 lemonades, a mushroom soup, and a mixed salad. Blake had bought a 2 litter bottle of sprite at the convenience store outside and used that to refill our lemonades, The servers were a bit puzzled at how our drinks magically reappeared every so often, but maybe they'd seen such things before, it was a backpackers haven after all.Next we went into an internet cafe and discovered that our airfares to Iquitos had never got through and that we would need to visit an official Avianca office to rectify the matter. We returned to our couch surfers house, watched the Bourne Ultimatum in spanish with Luiz, with a bag of classic Lays potato chips and ice cream to share.
Choquequrio - The Guidance of Guides
Setting out for the ruins at 6am and leaving Blake's large pack in the dutch's tent, with only the detachable fanny pack to carry, we quickly ascended up the mountain. It was still a challenge for me, I wasn´t exactly tip-top shape after the nights festivities, but still I progressed much more fluidly than before. After a couple of hours we made it to a stream running down from the high mountains and decided it was likely safe enough to fill our now empty water bottles with, better this we thought than pay the 14 or 16 soles for a new bottle at the next camp.A short distance later we passed a wooden gate with old flip-flops nailed into it for hinges and began walking on a dirt path passing land that had recently been cleared for growing food of various types. Then we came upon another wooden fence, where there was a
nother old woman walking between mud brick buildings. She spotted us and came to the gate, opening it with a noticeable glimmer in her smile. ¨Where are you from?¨ she asked in spanish. California we replied, ¨ahh the United States!¨ again in spanish. Welcoming us to the table she asked what we would like and we ordered soup, Blake with an egg and mine without.Seeing all the wild chickens about, happy and free, Blake sighed audibly and said in a condescending manner, ¨danny you know if there was ever a time to eat eggs it would be here and now¨ Seeing the truth in his words and in the situation, knowing how badly my muscles needed rich proteins to rebuild themselves, I agreed and joined the lady in the hut to increase our order of eggs. After all, I´m mostly a vegetarian because of my disgust with the corporate farming done in the States, and these chickens look like they've never seen the inside of a cage in their entire lives.The soup was angel hair pasta with carrots and potatoes, totally delicious, and the eggs were just as great, opening them up they were a dark and rich orange, even more so than those I remember from Germany, but that's probably just my 3 year absentee biased showing through the cracks of my memory. We thanked the lady very much for the meal and continued on up the mountain. Very shortly after that we made it to the guides house were we paid the 37 soles each to get in. I left my water there, but we still had 2 bottles left. The ruins could be seen from this part of the mountain, but we still had to hike another 20 minutes to reach the first of the terraces lining the hills.Deciding to go to the very top of the lookout first we made it to the rounded turret that looked out over the entire valley. At the end of the circle there was a sign that read, Casa do sacridol or something like that, I thought it was the house of sacrifice but that's not the translation so I can't really say. Anyways, we went down the hill to the house and got on top of the wall where the roof used to be, setting up his speakers, Blake bumped the music and we danced along the edges to the beat. At this time we were the only people in the ruins.Upon returning to the main part we met up with the dutch couple and shared travel stories. They had already been traveling for 7 months and were set to go for another 7, going next to California, Hawaii and then Japan. We asked them if they had heard about Ayahuasca and they asked if it was another hike in Peru, we explained that it was a Shamanistic plant and they quickly dismissed the idea, stating that they were tired of everyone assuming they were into drugs because they were from the Netherlands. Then they told us a story about their relative who thought he could fly on drugs and jumped off a building, becoming extremely sensitive to all stimulus in his legs, even the wind on his legs could cause extreme pain. "If that happened to me I'd just have the doctors chop my leg off and attach a bionic one." said Blake, I mostly concurred..We wished them well and headed back to the hut for more soup, and more eggs. The ruins were nice after all, but we were more interested in the pain in our bodies and the promise of returning home to our warm, dry beds in Cusco. My water bottle was just where I left it, I grabbed it and shortly after we were back at the house. This time there were two Peruvians also sitting down at the table. We joined them and introduced ourselves. The older one spoke English well and explained that he and his friend were guides for the Choquequrio ruins. Both of them were drinking some murky liquid that filled a pitcher on the table. "you want to try?" they asked. It has alcohol? I questioned after smelling the stuff. "no, no, it is all natural!" Blake and I both partook and turned to each other with a knowing glance, "it may not have alcohol but drinking it will get you drunk," Blake said aloud.Blake ordered 2 more pitchers and we very quickly got to know our new friends. They explained that what we were drinking was chicha, an ancient maze beer drank by the Incans in their own time. A pitcher was 4 soles or $1.33 it was incredibly smooth and barely tasted of alcohol, but it was most definitely getting us all drunk. The two had already had 3 or 4 pitchers before we arrived and were very open and relaxed. The younger one would interrupt whatever conversation we were having every so often and apologize for his lack of English skills, the more we drank the more frequent the apologeze became, eventually to the point of his elder taking him aside and making clear we understood his lack of communication skills, whether in English or any other form and that he should complete the experience in a slumped state of silent bliss.The elder guide suggested we descend slowly and reach the camp above the river on the other side leading back to cochora, where there would be much fewer miquitos and it would be cooler. We thanked them for the advice and for sharing the experience and descended slowly as he suggested, which was a little difficult for how loose we were in our steps, which is precisely why he suggested it. By the time we made it to the bottom it was already getting dark, but we pressed on, hoping to meet his suggestion and make it to the next camp.We had to use a headlamp in the final stretch of the climb, and when we made it to the camp there was no one there to meet us, only a dim light hanging from the inside of the hut, we called inside to greet whoever was there, but no reply was given. We went around the hut and on to one of the terraces and set up our tent, it immediately began to rain. By this time I was already showing signs of a cough, I tried my best to drink plenty of water and unfortunately did not cover myself well enough, leaving my feet and arms exposed to the many insects I allowed to enter our leaking, REI garage sale tent..
Choquequirao – A Nightcap for Nightshade
Sunrise was at 5 am, finding no reason to stay in our tent, still wet from the nights downpour and ready to go we left the small clearing and started down the actual trail leading to Choquequirao. My small toe had begun to rub against my boots the previous day and I was worried enough about it to ask Blake for an extra pair of socks and put them on as well, so we had to stop for a minute. The old mule man that we had just passed walked by and asked what was wrong, we said all was well and continued on when I was ready.Soon after that we came upon a tarantula standing still in the middle of the path, it never moved, people even told us about it later in the day, maybe it was frozen or something, we couldn't say. Also along the way to the bottom of the hill we met a couple of local Peruvians who wanted photo ops with us, so of course we obliged.Next we came upon two Canadian hikers who told us we could make it all the way to the top of the ruins in one go, but it was really quite steep and we would be dead the next day. After that we met a troop of British ex patriots living in Texas who said essentially the same thing, they also told us that there was a really nice camp before the ruins where there was good food and great views, and so we continued on down the mountain.Finally making it to the river at the bottom, we came upon a large government run camp where we signed in and asked the old man working there if he could help us with cooking the potatoes we got back in Cochora, he did and we helped him dehusk his corn. When we bought water from him it was 10 s/ for a 2.5 liter bottle, 3 times the normal price, I was confused at first and even tried to argue the point but his wizened old eyes just glazed over with a tired, unhappy look and I swallowed my tongue. Blake looked at me with lowered eye brows and said cynically, "What did you expect, were in the mountains, it's Disneyland prices.."Our potatoes were finished and I grabbed the biggest one we had and chomped down skin and all, while Blake got a couple small ones and removed the skin, mimicking oma's voice he said, "Danny, tell Blake to peel the potatoes.." just as she did all those years ago in Germany. We laughed and continued to eat. Very soon after I began to feel heavy in my stomach. A German couple walked into camp just as we were about to ascend to the top, they said we were crazy to climb in the hottest part of the day, this made us reconsider so We walked over the cliffs edge that dropped down to the river and sat there talking about our trip, our families and our lives here in South America.A few hours later we packed up, left one of our packs with the old man and headed up across the suspension bridge and to the seemingly endless switchbacks that followed. I was quickly overtaken by the heaviness in my stomach and was struggling to keep up with Blake, even though all I had to carry was the little fanny pack that disconnected from his big one. "come on Danny, you can die when we get to the next camp, just get there and die, die.." feeling the urge to vomit every "die"he uttered I asked him to refrain from any more talk of death and we continued on.We turned the corner of a long switch back and I was ready to collapse, Blake was standing in the path ahead of me without his pack on and shouted "come on were here finish with some class!" I entered the camp, ignored the old lady there greeting us and proceeded to throw up all over the rocks beside here camp. The water here was 12 soles...We set up our tent and a couple from the Netherlands joined us.The Lady made us all soup, I did my best to drink the broth but had to excuse myself to vomit yet again, she made me coca leaf tea with herbs but it didn't really help me. When night fell and i was still throwing up she kept calling me out of bed, I didn't feel like doing much of anything, plus I didn't understand what she was saying, luckily though the dutch girl translated from inside her own tent, "she wants you to drink something.."I crawled out of our tent and went over to the edge of the rocks where she handed me a large cup of clear liquid with strange herbs in it, I took a large swig and immediately cranked my neck to the side at the strength of the brew, "this is tequila!" I shouted, "sii! es Tequila!~haha" She chuckled. She said something else and again our dutch friend translated from the darkness, "she says it will kill whatever is in your stomach." Knowing the power of this vile substance I closed my eyes tight and finished what must have been 5 to 7 shots of tequila mixed with herbs unknown.I thanked her for the drink, she laughed solidly and patted me on the shoulder, returning to her witches hut hidden in the darkness beyond our tents. I too returned to my abode and feeling quite relaxed all of a sudden fell quickly to sleep...