Good Eats in Cusco

View of Plaza de Armas from our hostel's rooftop terrace 

Friday started with the same coca leaf tea, breakfast of rolls and jam and warm showers.  We needed to get a ride to our next town of Aguas Calientes, so we headed to Peru Rail downtown.  A nice young man helped us book our train from the town of Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes.  He told us we needed to take a 6:00am bus from Cusco to Ollantaytambo.  We thought this was a little early but decided if that's our only option, we had to do it.  As we passed through the door of the rail company into Plaza de Armas, we agreed to walk through the town of Cusco to explore, since we'd been up in the hills with the ancient ruins each previous day.  We would be leaving to reach a new destination in the morning and not sure we were be coming back to Cusco.

Inside the San Pedro Market

We were told by two fellow travelers, whom we had breakfast while at Kokopelli, there was an amazing juice section at a certain market held in town.  They tried to explain the route to get from the Plaza de Armas through two other Plazas to a finally Plaza, by drawing a map in the air at our table.  It was a little confusing not knowing what they were talking about at the time, but once we began walking through he town it was quite easy and exactly as they described.  We approached an airplane hanger sized building which we realized we had reached a giant market.  Eager to catch a glimpse of the hype we quickly entered as we could see busy bodies filing in and out the large doorway. We were blown away by the amounts of options and diversity of goods right in front of our eyes.

The outer rows were clothing booths with old singer sewing machines and rolls of vibrant Peruvian fabrics ready to be made into a skirt; hats, sweatshirts and woven items sold with dolls, postcards, key chains and nic-naks of all kinds.  Next was the meat.  Rows of mutilated pig bodies hanging next to beheaded chickens, in between the flies were axes hacking at pork necks, separating the heads to set them on display.  After the rows of big and small fish on ice, were bins and bins of spices, fruits, nuts, vegetables.  We wiggled through the many offers of raisins and almonds with several free samples shared to tease our taste buds.

Mark inhaling an Inca Kola

With only the first section out of the way, we went down a set of stairs to where we saw food was being served and meals devoured.  Anna recognized this section from a TV show called No Reservations, on the Travel Chanel.  The host has soup at one of the many soup vendors against the far left wall towards where we were headed, straight down the middle passing mass amounts of soup, sandwiches, and skewer shacks until we finally reached a sign for ceviche.  We sat and Anna ordered her favorite, only to have an old man seated next to her point at a much bigger booth (15 feet wide instead of 10 feet wide) saying, "Bueno ceviche, bueno."  Taking his word we grabbed a seat at the booth on the corner as a lady yelled, "Ceviche! Five Soles!"  We were still adjusting our butts when a plate with seafood ceviche, two potato's, rice and huge local corn nut type edibles were put down in front of us.  The cost of this meal was equal to about $1.80.  You can barely buy a Power Bar for that much in the states.  She gave us a cup of Chicha Morada, a local fruit juice made from purple corn, to wash it all down.  Off to another booth down the way where Mark ordered a pollo (chicken) sandwich, for S/.1.50 and an Inca Kola.  Inca Kola is a very sweet soda that taste like bubblegum.  Anna truly hated the teeth rotting sweetness but Mark craved the real sugar they use.

So many of these 'roads' in Cusco

We then walked out the backside of the indoor market only to find block after block of more market vendors outside.  We passed a few and realized it was more of everything we just experienced.  Bored with the repetition of all the merchandise for sale, we headed to the hostel to regroup our things for the rest of the day, then back downtown we went.  Only this time Mark took a random left back up a cobblestone road behind our hostel, instead of straight to the Plaza de Armas.  He saw a menu posted on what looked like someones living room wall reading, Trucha Ceviche, meaning Trout Ceviche.  Andes Mountain Trout!  Sold!!  In we went, even thought they were not prepared to serve customers so early, at about 3:30pm.  They had no stoves on, no tables settings and the kids working were giggling with surprise we chose their place... Or they were just giggling at Mark like everyone else in Peru.

Kukuly, the name of the little restaurant 

Feeling the Cusco vibe, we ordered the Trucha Ceviche and Alpaca Steak with vegetables and rice.  Wowza!!  That dinner changed us!  The Trout was drenched in lemon and lime juice, which was a bit shocking to our taste buds, but delicious all the same.  Then another new found love for Anna and Mark, Alpaca.  At first bite we both felt the lamb-like texture flood our pallet with savory juices unique to Peru.  It's hard to describe other than juicy like a beef steak, flavors of beef and lamb with a sort of spiced essence that could only be Alpaca.  Completely new to both of us but we became instant fans.



With several beers in his bladder, Mark headed to the bathroom, right next to the kitchen.  He was looking at the stove to see how they made him such a good dinner, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a step into the bathroom.  Not looking in time, he stepped into the small door frame built for Peruvians and smacked his head, right above the hairline, with full grande cabeza force.  The sound was loud enough to make everyone in the restaurant look up in shock, then bust out in laughter, including Anna, at the red man rubbing his head in embarrassment.  Mark ducked into the bathroom and wiped blood from his brow as the dizziness began to ooze into his brain, like the semi-clear plasma that was seeping out.  He grabbed a handful of tissues and listened to the people's laughter die down, slowly.  He headed out and instantly had Spanish sentences being tossed at him.  He didn't understand but they kept pointing at their own heads with smiles on their faces.  Mark said, "grande cabeza," and told Anna it was time to go.



Walking outside, Mark turned his back, holding the tissue to his head, looked Anna straight in the eyes to say how stupid that was, but before he could finish one word he missed a step and almost hyper-extended his bad knee.  Again, Anna couldn't hold in her laughter at the gracefulness of her man.  Officially worried now, Mark made a clear point to look where he was going.  No more walking blindly thinking everything will be okay.

We came around a corner on the random path Mark decided to take to downtown and passed a familiar gringo.  It was the Brit we had met at our Barranco hostel, who was now staying at the Cusco Kokopelli.  We wished each other safe travels and went our separate ways.  While we were out we decided to double check our bus times and thankfully we decided to do so.  It turned out the buses left every half hour or so starting at 6am in the morning.  Another example of our lack of Spanish skills and high risk for miss-communication being displayed here.  Knowing we had more time in the morning, figured we'd stay out a bit longer for our last night of watching the dancers do their night time shows.

The Plaza was a mess of tourists, locals selling junk and four different dance troops all at once.  We followed the tourist path and pulled out our cameras to get pictures and video of the dancers.  Each troop seemed to have a different purpose being played out in the choreography.  One group was making shoveling gestures for harvest, another had whips snapping  in sync (©N'Sync) to the music for a livestock dance.  A third group was doing a celebratory dance waving their hands in the air and chanting, while the last seemed to be movement in respect for reproduction, although this last one is just our guess.

As we sat on a bench to watch it all unfold, we noticed a 12 year old girl come up to us with an Oreo cookie in her mouth and a sewn Peruvian doll in her hand.  Mark and Anna looked at each other with the same thought, here comes another one.  She walked up and tried to speak but almost dropped the cookie from her mouth catching it in her hand and giggling with her chocolate covered teeth.  Almost sitting on Mark, she forced the doll in his face saying, "Twenty Soles, One Sole to look!"  Mark kept saying, "No Sole," back and forth they went.  After a lot more giggling and being a cute sales lady, she agreed to let Mark take a picture of the doll for S/.1.  She put it on his lap, he snapped a picture and as the instant replay popped up on the screen, she pointed at Mark's white legs and took off laughing hysterically.  She was the best sales person we'd come across.


We found out it's almost impossible to avoid or ignore the restaurant hustlers on the sidewalks as we followed a smooth talkin' guy holding menus to a overly priced establishment overlooking Plaza de Armas.  Anna heard free Pisco and away we went.  There was a Peruvian man dressed in a tribal outfit, playing a guitar with an attached pan flute, tapping a bass drum with his foot and singing in several different languages, Quechua, Spanish and English.  He kicked ass at his one man band!  He managed to sell a copy of his CD to everyone in that restaurant, including us.  We can't wait to bump this at full volume in our neighborhood.  It's way better than the Mexican polka music normally echoing over the sounds of the streets.  The food was good, a little expensive, but the view and entertainment made for a wonderful last meal in Cusco.  Leaving to get back to our room for the night, we noticed a giant stage being built and could only assume, because of the dancers each night as well, that some sort of event was going to take place over the weekend.  Back to the room to wake early for our 9am checkout.

Free Pisco Sours for dining in

Stage being built in front of a Plaza de Armas Cathedral

Hustled

When Mark woke at 5:00 am do to Peru-poo platter, he thought the smaller town of Cusco wouldn't be as loud as Lima. At 5:25am, a crew started pick axing the cobblestones out of the staircase leading up to and past the hostel. Semi-used to construction noises almost all night long from Lima, he caught a few more hours of shut eye. He awoke to Anna moaning out the bedroom door. Peru-poo platter had us wrapped around it's finger.

Another employee/family member was at the front desk that morning. He had yellow lensed sun glasses, curly hair in a ponytail, and the enire futbol get up including the knee hight's. A jovial type of guy who pulled out a map and drew out directions to the post office for us. We said "Hasta la Vista" after hearty coca leaf breakfast. That's when we realized that Lima and Cusco both can be fairly easy to navigate if you have a correct map and get a little help first. We took a stupid map and just started walking. Several times. Lost. Oh well, our first time traveling out of the country. The post office was about a fifteen minute walk down a busy street full of taxis honking and zipping through the lanes. We paid an outstanding amount for international stamps and decided no more post cards if we wanna finish Peru without hooking or bus husslin'.

After a bit of wondering, a little fresh juice hit the spot, then we headed back up the mountain cobblestone stairway through Saqsaywaman on to another temple. We were told it was a ten minute walk past Saqsaywaman, so our calves got wake up call, more than they should have. Again. With Saqsaywaman behind us, we decided to check with a local woman upon reaching a fork in the road. "Si, Q'enqo" she said as she pointed towards the road that lead behind the 30 foot Jesus, so behind it we walked for about fifteen minutes downhill before we stopped a cab for help. He turned around and drove us back past where the lady lied to us and dropped s off at the temple gates, where a hole punched our tickets.

Q'enqo is not as big as Saqsaywaman, but it was an important temple just the same. It means "Labyrinth" and was the religious temple for fertility. With a phallic twenty foot tall monolith as the entrance piece, this was a religion that used common sense. Probably why the Spaniards vandalized and defaced it. Their thought provoking artwork can still be seen etched into something their religion makes awkward and dark. This temple was our first experience with the Incan religious symbolism of the Condor, Puma and Snake. On top of a giant rock outcropping are staircases and seats that lead into intricate waterways which ended in a circular depression, representing first a snake, then the head of a great cat, and finally a bird.

Next to Q'qenqo is a small eucalyptus grove where we took a much needed shade break. A cute little girl came up with four of those cloth sun hats archeologist's and old people always wear. Mark felt like being nice so he tried em all on saying "mi cabeza es muy grande," over and over. She was more than excited to take off running screaming "madre, grande cabeza!" Mark instantly knew he lead her to believe that she had made a sale if the hat would fit. She came sprinting down the hill out of reath, with three giant leather, Cusco branded, cowboy hats. Mark balanced the hats on his ponytail and still acted as it they didn't fit. The poor girl's eyes looked as though the tears welling up from behind were a mix of disappointment, anger and disgust that a human's head can really be that big.

Feeling bad, we grabbed the first bus out of there to the next temple. We paid S/. 3 (3 soles) each as a little snot nosed six year old Peruvian boy, who got on with us, spoke perfect Spanish to the 13 or 14 year old bus hustler... both of them looked at Mark and the young boy said something again, in between sniffles. The hustler then gave him some extra change. Anna sat in back taking photos out the window and Mark was eyeing both boys as the six year old's glare never left his face. It must be the goatee or the long curly diablo hair, or maybe the sunburn? The bus stopped and the hustler pointed us in the direction of the Tambombachay water temple. The booger faced boy got off too, still staring as the bus drove away. We were crossing the street as Mark kept doble taking over his shoulder; red sweatpants with booger streaks on thighs, red and blue sweatshirt with dirt on the belly and dried snot on the sleeves, and a cute little Peruvian nose hidden under caked mucus, finally those dark little eyes. The six year old was right there. Mark turned, "Hola?" The kid spat out about three sentences in quick Spanish and all we heard was "Uno Sole." The kid booked it up a little mountain staircase, for locals only, leaving a smug cloud of booger crystals that broke off his cheeks when he smiled vengefully. The realization that Mark got suckered and this kid got bribed to keep it on the down low was fully sinking in. Kids do the darnedest things.

Tambombachay Temple is an Incan bathing site that is situated on top of a natural spring. Toads, hummingbirds and livestock are all over the place, as were tourist taking photos. Anna got mad as Mark was jumping up and down on an flimsy bridge, fulling knowing she would be too scared to step food on it. Day became night and Mark kept jumping and jumping. Just kidding. He stopped and Anna crossed the twelve foot span with a three foot lift over a one inch deep brook. Eventually.

Anna started up a trail, weaving in and out of boulders and bushes, following the natural spring water coming down the mountain. She saw a picture of a goose on the information plaque at bottom of the hill and thought that meant a lake up top. It didn't and we soon realized, as the local dogs began barking up a storm sprinting towards us, we were on some Peruvian farmer's land filled with grazing sheep. Not wanting to kick dogs in the face we went back downhill. But first detoured to the right to do a quick head dunk in the babbling brook. Niiiice...

Tambombachay is a very small temple with intricate aqueducts and several Incan made waterfalls. It's main use was for bathing, that's why it's so small, but the spring and surrounding areas had ample wildlife which we were told was a major hunting grounds as well. Looking out in the distance with a view out to the Andes we saw ominous dark thunder clouds brewing while feeling the wind suddenly picking up speed.

We hustled ourselves down to the road where we could see the next temple, up the hill a half a mile away. Puka Pukara is the second biggest temple of the Saqsaywaman park. Puka was used as a military headquarters and a food storage facility. Puka Pukara means "Red Fortress." It also contains aqueducts with running water. The Inca were dedicated to controlling water since it was worshiped as a source of life. A quick trip around the temple grounds and soon back on a bus, to the cobblestone staircases and back to our room.

As we got back to our room and could hear the street dancers blowing their pan flutes and chanting to their drums beats for hours and hours. Mean while the night sky was flickering, at a progressive rate, with one of the most amazing lightening storms we'd ever seen. We tossed open our french doors windows, letting in the noises of Cusco at night and the cool mountain air, opened a bottle of wine and watched the sky flash more than thirty times a minute. It is hard to describe the feeling of awe as the Andes lit up with the natural strobe light going off above them. The nights sky was just as active as the busy bulb lit Plazas filled with dancers and bystanders making their way through the town. We watched the light show move out of view past the mountains to the right and then hit the hay.