Right before lunch we had our faces painted and were given
our Quechuan (the native Peruvian Incans) names; mine was Puma which was lucky
because it meant I had a chance of remembering it. Everyone else had to battle
with multi-syllable mouthfuls that sounded like they were speaking through the
remnants of a small rodent. Which we soon were, because lunch was the
traditional Peruvian meal of Cuy.
Oh yeah, monkey house had turkeys. Aren't they ridiculous? |
Creepy, no? |
What is Cuy, I hear you (maybe) say? Guinea Pig. Just like
the one you used to play with as a kid, in the backyard at home. I had been looking
forward to trying the little rat bastards for a while at this stage, and was
delighted to discover that we could choose which of the furry little delights
we wanted to consume. Our guide recommended picking the fattest looking one as
they were meant to be the tastiest. Our first choice wasn’t allowed because it
was pregnant but the cook couldn’t see a problem with our second option. Let’s
call her Madeline. Grabbing her by the back feet and the head, she pulled
gently until Madeline’s cute little neck snapped and she breathed her last.
Madeline, noooo! |
The lady was surprised to see Madeline still moving when she
put her onto the table (in fact, she moved enough to fall right off). It turns
out that Maddy was actually pregnant as well, effectively turning us into monstrous
animal-baby killers. If hell exists and I wasn’t already on the list, I must be
now. To be completely honest, it dropped the tone of the experience a fair bit.
Bad times. Still, there was no point in letting poor Madeline go to waste so
she was expertly plucked and gutted by our cook, who then impaled her with a
skewer and barbequed her to secret Peruvian recipe specifications.
The result wasn’t all that good. There wasn’t all that much
meat for a start, and what there was tended towards really fatty or really
chewy. The flavour wasn’t anything to write home about either (although I
suppose that’s what I’m doing right now). Having said that, if you get the
chance to munch a Guinea pig (without forever scarring a small child by eating
their pet) then I think you should take it.
Yummers. |
Once we had gotten the Cuy down us we were back to the
hiking. It was a fairly long day on foot overall and by the end of it some members
of the group were pretty done with the whole thing. We were on the actual Inca
Trail in the afternoon and it was stunning. There were some good high narrow
sections to keep us on our toes. We also stopped at a point with a great view
and Towny and I expressed ourselves with the physical form. I think the results
are quite poignant.
Cheers Towny for the awesome photo and for letting me play grab-ass with you in the far left part of the shot. |
A good spot to really ponder life's big issues. |
Fortunately at the end of the day there was a little treat
waiting for us across a river (which we crossed in a little basket on a wire
which was pulled over by a little old man – I took a turn and pulled some
people across for him). At the end of our trek we got to splash around in some
hot pools for a while, and I had been carrying a treat for us for the last two
days: a fine bottle of Appleton’s rum.
It's the team! |
Our poor rum never even got the chance to encourage us to
make bad decisions. While we were lurking in the hot pools some tosspot
Englishman managed to knock over the bottle, smashing it. He achieved this
despite the fact that it was tucked away under a lounger - quite a feat. To say
I was gutted would be understating the issue. Apart from the fact that I love a
good rum, I had lugged the bloody thing a long way (it weighed about a good
chunk of my total bag) and now I wouldn’t get to enjoy the rewards for my
toils.
Dodgy as river crossing mechanism |
It turned out the English dude wasn’t so bad and replaced
our rum on the spot, although with a lesser bottle (luckily they were selling
booze at the pool, you’ve gotta love South America). It was remarkably pleasant
sitting in some hot pools drinking rum, and we all got a bit tipsy which was
good as it encouraged us to keep drinking through dinner and then go out to a
sub-par nightclub in the middle of nowhere. I had a bit of a bad one, got too drunk
for anyones good, had a bust time and lost my wallet with my one credit card in
it.
Therefore I was less than pleased with life the next day
when I woke up. I had effectively lost any access to cash that I had. This is
the one thing you don’t want to happen to you while you are travelling. They
always say you should travel with more than one credit card and I thought I had
just found out why, the hard way. But I’m a lucky bastard sometimes and this
was one such occasion.
We went out to our next activity, ziplining. I was still
pretty raw about the wallet thing so it was thrilling to find out that a gringo
in one of the other tour groups had found someone’s wallet last night, at the
very bar I was in no less! They were leaving as we arrived but we were going to
the same place for lunch so I was hopefully to be reunited with my leathery
friend and his plastic cashflow treats in the near future.
With that off my mind I could get to grips with ziplining
hungover. The worst part was the walk up the hill to the first line, it
definitely got me into the pain cave with the heat and the steepness. I’m also
reasonably afraid of heights so ziplining was a bit out of my comfort zone but
after the first line I settled down a bit. It’s mighty good fun. I also bent
the rules a bit and managed to convince the operator it was a good idea to let
me go sin ropa for one of the lines. Another little highlight was seeing
Michelle Rodriguez there, as she was with another tour group about to get
amongst it as we were leaving. Neat.
Spot the bollock. Photo courtesy of Eric (he's very courteous when he doesn't know about it). |
Lunch saw me reunited with my wallet and very grateful for
it. It was a very lucky escape for me there and I vowed not to hit the piss
with my credit card ever again (I’ve since failed on that goal). The afternoon
hike was a bit grim for me as it was flat and along a railway track. That’s
barely hiking as far as I’m concerned and certainly not my idea of a good time.
After a few hours we arrived in Agua Calientes (which means hot water, who
calls a town that?), the nearest settlement to Machu Picchu. We had a pretty
relaxed and early night as we were getting up stupidly early the next morning
to visit the ruins themselves.
No comments:
Post a Comment