PERU

Visited Peru as part of a longer trip in which I also touched Bolivia and Ecuador including the Galapagos Islands. In Peru I arrived in the company of two friends. We landed at Lima airport with a KLM flight from Amsterdam in the Netherlands. From the airport we reached the bus station to find out about the timetables of the routes, then we had ourselves driven by taxi to a hostel to spend the night in a dorm. The following morning, back at the bus station from where we set off toward Paracas.

Here we book a short cruise to the nearby Ballestas Islands. After an hour's wait we board a launch that faces the restless Pacific, on which along the desert coast faces the mysterious geoglyph of the candelabra, quite similar to a Nazca line. A few miles away are the desolate, wild, uninhabited Ballestas Islands, which some call miniature Galapagos or the poor man's Galapagos. We liked them because it's a surreal place even though they're little more than rocks rich in guano, the fertile droppings of the seabirds that have set up home here together with sea lions and seals. Back on shore, in the nearby hinterland, near the city of Ica, we stop at Huacachina, which is an oasis complete with a small lake surrounded by a desert of dunes reminiscent of the Sahara. A pity, though, about the constant off-road vehicles that plough across the high dunes as if on a roller coaster.

Our journey continues by scheduled bus on the Panamericana. The bus is comfortable and this allows us to sleep during the night transfer in which we bypass the region of the Nazca lines. The lines can only be seen well by flying in small planes, but after reading travel diaries of people who feel ill during the flight we passed on it, especially since the candelabra seen at Paracas is quite similar.

The following morning we are in the ancient colonial city of Arequipa. The Convent of Santa Caterina da Siena was once a cloister for noble offspring who took their vows bringing their own servants along and maintaining a life of luxury. The Convent is so large that it is considered a city within the city, complete with streets, squares, refectories, laundries, fountains. It seems there are many mysteries hidden within these ancient walls; jealousies, violent abbesses, internal wars and clandestine loves. Now only silence reigns, broken by the discreet footsteps of the many tourists.

After finishing the visit and taking a look at the square central plaza, we take a new bus and reach Puno at dusk, on the shores of Lake Titicaca. Here, staying in a Pensione, we begin to feel the first devastating effects of Soroche, altitude sickness. During the night I can't close an eye, my heart beats hard and has sudden jolts.

In the morning we are all utterly exhausted and, even though we can't manage it, we'd like to sleep. But the lake tour awaits us. Having reached the port of Puno by taxi, we board a ferry. We plough the calm waters of Titicaca, brushing past the slender totora shrubs (a kind of reed), the raw material of the local populations. At over 3800 metres above sea level, the Lake marks the border between Peru and Bolivia, who share it. We arrive at the Uros Islands, which float on the water because their artificial surface made of woven totora floats on Titicaca.

On these — which they call islands but which are actually gigantic rafts — people still try to live in a traditional way. The costumes and their dugout canoes are beautiful, but everything is very artificial for the benefit of the many tourists. According to legend, on this Lake, which is the highest navigable one in the world, the Inca civilisation was born. Our cruise continues to one of the real islands of Titicaca. We choose Taquile, one of the largest. It is characterised by stone arches and by a path that climbs up what is technically a hill but which, starting from 3800 metres, is much higher than most mountains. Breathlessly we climb up to refresh ourselves in a traditional house, entertained by sounds and dances in which we too are involved despite being short of breath.

On returning to Puno we hope in vain to sleep, but it will be another sleepless night. The following morning, on a bus used mainly by locals, we head to Cusco. The vehicle isn't even a shadow of those used previously: it stops everywhere, it's dusty, uncomfortable, and at every stop street vendors get on selling their goods. The seller of esoteric stones, fine, but when the butcher arrives hacking up meat between one seat and another, it's embarrassing. After a long journey we're in Cusco, which compared to Puno is a modern metropolis. We've descended in altitude but it's not enough to make the Soroche pass, and it's increasingly hard to breathe regularly. Our accommodation is in a nice, functional Hostel.

The following morning, after the third sleepless night, we're entertained by a very long procession passing through the streets of the centre. The ceremony is dedicated to the Virgin of the Rosary but honestly it looks more like a carnival parade. Even the music of the various brass bands is cheerful and accompanied by dances and absolutely profane rites. The traditional costumes are splendid, the wide brightly coloured skirts, the women's typical bowler hats. And then feathers, rhinestones, fringed shawls. Following the procession we pass the Church of Santo Domingo, built by the Spanish Conquistadores on the Inca walls of the Temple of the Sun. The colonisers defeated the natives but did not completely erase their culture.

The picturesque ceremony then passes through the great Plaza de Armas where we have breakfast in a cafe whose balconies overlook the Square itself, offering us a splendid panorama of the Cathedral and the other historic buildings surrounding it.

In the afternoon we climb breathlessly to the Fortress, clear proof of Inca capabilities, which unfortunately has largely been stripped of its cyclopean boulders used as recycled material in many buildings of the historic centre. Despite this, from the many remains it's easy to grasp its majesty. The mighty walls now surround a large lawn where llamas roam.

In the evening, hoping to improve our breathing and heartbeat, we move to Ollantaytambo, descending in altitude. We dine in a small restaurant and find a place in a guesthouse. In the morning we discover we're in a characteristic Indian village crossed by a stream. With a long walk we reach the train station for Aguas Calientes and board the first train, decidedly expensive but elegant. Aguas Calientes is a disorderly jumble of houses that stretches along two sides of a river and is entirely devoted to international tourism. From here we take the bus, also expensive, to Machu Picchu, where a heavy downpour welcomes us. Fortunately, when we enter the archaeological area the rain stops and between the clouds a few timid rays of sun even peek through. The place is beautiful, but then I'm not the first to say so, given that it's considered a must worldwide.

The legendary Machu Picchu, the ancient Lost City of the Incas located where the Andes meet the Amazon. The Conquistadores never found it because its position was a military secret never revealed. Uninhabited for centuries, it was rediscovered in 1911 by the American historian Hiram Bingham. After the visit and the ritual photos we take the bus back to the valley. We immerse ourselves in the cosmopolitan, festive atmosphere of Aguas Calientes and dine in an elegant Italian Restaurant. For the night we opt for cheap and decent accommodation. The following morning we take the train again to Ollantaytambo, where we visit the remains of the local fortress city. In this place the last, bloody and decisive battle was fought between the Spanish Conquistadores and the Indian resistance led by Manco Inca, who had retreated here after the defeat of Cusco.

The Fortress is characterised by enormous boulders wedged together without the use of mortar, as was typical of Inca architecture. At the exit of the archaeological area we go to the village's Primary School, have lunch in a small restaurant and then arrange with a taxi driver for a tour of the surroundings. First stop at the spectacular terraced salt pans of Maras, which look like a painter's palette resting on the slopes of a mountain. We're at over 3000 metres, where in Europe we'd find permanent snow and glaciers, while here there's salt. We've finally adapted to these altitudes, but seeing men calmly working in the salt pans at this altitude surprises us. The nearby terraces of Moray were built by the Incas in the shape of concentric circles creating a sort of amphitheatre.

It's assumed the site was an agricultural research centre because the temperatures between the top of the terraces and the bottom can vary by as much as 15 degrees. For this reason it's believed the Incas used this site to study the crops that grow at different temperatures. All around, very high snow-capped mountains. We descend again to Ollantaytambo where in the Square the locals have gathered to watch on a giant screen the Peru-Colombia football match, decisive for qualification to the World Cup in Russia. It ends 1-1 and we spend the night in a Hostel. The following morning we return to Cusco by minibus, where a military parade is underway with the participation of numerous Schools and groups of disabled children. In the afternoon we meet a Lady from Cusco, granddaughter of an acquaintance of mine, and go for a Coffee.

After dinner in a characteristic place in the historic centre my companions retire to a Hostel for the night while I take a taxi to the Bus Station, from where at night I travel again to Puno. From here I take a bus to Copacabana in Bolivia (see the relevant itinerary). On returning from Bolivia I go back to Puno. During the long wait for the connection to Cusco I stroll among the stalls of the immense market. In the evening I take the night bus to return to Cusco, where I arrive in the early hours of the morning.

By taxi I have myself taken to Plaza de Armas, where I notice the Cathedral is open and take the opportunity to go in without paying the tourist ticket. It's Sunday and the Mass is underway, which I follow. At the end I reach the nearby Hostel where my travel companions are staying, and I rejoin them. We're early for the flight booked to Lima, so we'll spend a few days in Cusco, and that doesn't bother me because I'm quite tired after days of travel and kilometres covered. In these days I'll visit the Coffee Museum, the cocoa museum and the coca museum — coca, which here is used as a drink against Soroche. We too have drunk quite a few coca infusions. These Museums always end with a shop where they invite you to buy, but without insisting.

We also visited the archaeological remains beneath the Church of Santo Domingo and a Museum about the Incas. One morning we organised a master class in a Primary School thanks to the Lady I mentioned earlier. While waiting for the day of the flight we were able to relax in the Hostel, also making use of the ping-pong table. At last the morning of the transfer to the airport and the flight to Lima arrives. From here we take the connection to Guayaquil in Ecuador, leaving Peru.