¨El Puente Está Jodido...Tienen Caminar¨

Yesterday morning, I woke up early and began with me taking a stroll through the San Blas Plaza, close to where I am currently staying. I ran into some gentleman playing guitar and singing, and stopped to listen. After chatting them up in Spanish for a little while, we played and sung some songs together. Then I was invited to join them for ceviche, Peruvian corn beer, at 9 o´clock in the morning. Of course I accepted their invitation (again, sorry Mom). Great experience was had.

Then I met up with Sam in front of the Cathedral and we went to part of the two hour long catholic mass, before heading into the Plaza. Here we ran into some girls from the local school where Sam had been volunteering. They talked about their trip to Pisac the day before and how wonderful it had been. Not having anything planned for the afternoon, we soon realized what must be done.

We hopped in a taxi and made our way to a sketchy bus station, and boarded a minibus bound for Pisac. It cost 2.50 soles (S/) a person (about eight cents); needless to say, we were the only gringos on the bus. After an hour long trip we arrived in Pisac where the bridge had been taken out by the floods, and it was necessary to travel about 1km down river to cross yet another sketchy footbridge. From here, we enjoyed a delicious three course lunch for about a dollar, and made our way through the local market (which is one of the biggest in the area, though no where near as big as the one in Otavalo). Here we ran into some hippie from Oregon, who said ¨I´ve been here five months and I´m not going back.¨ He´s trying to set up and ecolodge, similar to that of Yuchana. I gave him my e-mail and told him to write if his plans succeeded and he needed volunteers. We then grabbed a taxi up to the ruins, and were amazed by their beauty for the next hour and a half.

Upon returning to the city of Pisac, we tried to catch a bus back to Cuzco. You know that you are really experiencing a country and being a sourjourner, not a tourist, when someone offers you a one hour busride for a single US dollar, and you say no because it´s too expensive...we rode back for about fity cents.

Along the way I met a woman from Argentina and spoke to her (in Spanish of course) for about an hour...that was cool. We then departed ways with our new friends (we had also met a guy from Belgium along the way) and hit up a favorite bar in town for some sheesha and Pisco Sours, a delicious Peruvian specialty.

Tomorrow is more ruins, and I´m very excited for those as well.

¡Choa!
CM