When we landed in Cusco, Anna was gripping Mark as though he was able to make the thin air thick so the turbulence would cease to exist. He couldn´t, and didn´t, and the beautiful hour long flight to Cusco was jolty to say the least. Our plane was small, holding about 75 people, so it had a lighter build that was easier for the Andean air to smack around. Whenever we would skim the top of a peak or slice through the abdomen of a mountain thunder cloud, we´d skip up and down like a fishing bobber with a fish-on (© Primus, 1991.) All of the passenger's heads were dancing to the beats of the wind swept Andes.
As soon as we got off the plane, we walked down onto the tarmac, just like the Beatles. But instead of masses of fans and followers, it was hoards of taxi drivers and tour guides. One of the taxi drivers spoke good enough English to get our attention, so he started taking us to Plaza de Armas. Half way along the trek he pulled over and said, "Un momento, por favor," and ran off to meet a group of men. Mark mumbled, "drug deal, or we´re about to get jacked." Ten minutes later some other guy got in the seat and we got dropped off at Plaza de Armas.
We were fully bagged and only equipped with a print out of Anna´s last email with the hostel owner that had a little address with the address at the bottom. The clouds were getting way darker and we were directionless. We asked the securidad (security guard) where 'Resbolosa' street was and he pointed across the Plaza. In between a McDonald´s and a KFC there was an American tourist office, no joke. They pointed the same direction and said, "right, left, right." So with shoulders weighted down and no map, we went as we were told.
The street of Cusco are more like cobblestone roads with names and intersected by cobblestone stairways with names. We didn´t know the stairways with names were considered streets. So when our directions were right, left right, we followed the paths that cars were driving. Anna knew we had to go up a long set of stairs. That´s it. After twenty minutes and over a mile hiking, the 12,000 foot air was starting to take full effect. We ran out of water and it began to rain, so we pulled under a covered bus stop next to St. Theresa Chapel on top of a grand hill overlooking Cusco below, trying to catch our breath. We could hear a bar full of locals laughing hard as two gringos were heaving and huffing while contemplating going up higher or turning back.
"¡¡Eh Pancho!! ¡Hahaha!" Yelled a local drunk, setting the bar ablaze with heavy cackling, as we passed their front door on our way back to the Plaza to start over. Not knowing what hey pancho meant we headed down the steep hill but in the back of our heads it was directed towards us. We shrugged it off because we were out of breath, tired white tourists, feeling the mountain rain pelt our scalps and bags.
We almost got back to where our cab dropped us off when Mark saw a lady pulling her camping gear that was for sale back into her store. He asked her for a map and directions to Resbolosa, while pointing at the email. She gave us a full color free tourist map and pointed up an incredibly daunting staircase for our physical and psychological state of being. Our directions took us in the complete opposite of the securidad and tour office. After eight minutes of a painfully slow stair climb, we saw a little sign above a door at the top of the staircase that read Piccola Locanda.
We rang the bell and waited anxiously for someone to welcome us in. Shortly a middle aged woman came to the door and helped us to our room. With a quick tour of the hostel we found our way to the hang out room where there were computers, tables and chairs set up for the guests. There was an array of complimentary teas, so we picked our desired flavors and set up at a table in the corner. Tired from the bus fiasco, plane ride and unnecessarily long walk to our hostel, we found a stack of board games and began to relax. With Monopoly, Risk and Scabble all being in Spanish, Mark chose Scrabble knowing we´d be able to spell out our English words. Mark had an unfair advantage since he plays this game on his cell phone everyday. Anna slowly picked it up as Mark played easy on her and gave her tips to score more points per word. The game was missing the letter K and other amounts of typical American letters but read extras like RR, CH, and LL which we just put aside. The game soon ended with Anna winning by three points.
Now a bit rejuvenated and becoming a bit hungry, we ventured into the wet streets of Cusco to find a good meal. The rain had stopped just as fast as it had began. As we walked through the Plaza, we were overwhelmed with the bombardment of restaurant hustlers and women offering flyers for massages, every ten feet. Up a few cobblestone roads, we saw our many options. A little disoriented from hunger we went for a familiar and cheap choice of Chinese food, or "Chifa." Not really venturing into the local cultural cuisine, but we felt our brain cells were already spent for the day and wanted something simples.
The restaurants was decorated in traditional Chinese lanterns and garb, as well as paintings of Peruvian landscapes and people. All employees were Peruvian. We ordered our meal from our waiter Luis, whom we noticed kept a watchful eye during our dinner. There was a TV in the corner playing Hitch, overdubbed in Spanish (yes, Will Smith is just as annoying in another language), that the employees found hysterical, that we pretended to enjoy with Luis standing over us. Being in the Andes eating Chifa, our hopes were a little iffy at best, but the meal was actually pretty good.
As we finished the meal, Luis came up to us and began making small talk in English. We were surprised but relieved to be able to speak to a local. He then told us he was a student at a local university and his teacher told him he need more practice as he had just failed an English listening exam. We really enjoyed our conversation with him as he was very kind and eager to learn. After three separate conversations and our encouragement of his good English skills, we paid the bill with an extra tip and said "Hasta Luego." A quick stop at the mini market to stock up on supplies, then back through the teams of street hustlers and to our room for our first nights sleep in this quaint village town.
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