Journey to Cusco

(Note, the blog entry below was only posted on 10 November though a draft was started a few weeks earlier - just to explain if the sequencing seems a little confusing)

We are trying to create the illusion with this blog that we´re recounting things as they happen but to be honest, we´re about a month behind now. The last few weeks of our trip have been busy and stressful. Jumping out of bed at the crack of 9 or so, a bit of yoga and meditation and then we´re ready to stroll down to see the little peruvians that have been up since about 4 in the morning and inquire: breakfast? They look at you like you´re from another planet sometimes and in lots of ways you are.
We reflected on this today as we sat and drank coffee on the balcony of a swanky cafe and looked down at a little lady dressed in madly colourful clothing leading her llama down the streets of cusco (llamas really have no business being in the city but these ladies make a living by pouncing on anyone that takes a photo of them and asking them for a sol). She probably makes only in a day what we spent on two coffees, doesn´t really seem right somehow.
We got a particularly strong reminder of the poverty here during our journey to Cusco when we got caught up in protests and roadblocks made by starving (and pissed off) campesinos (country people). This particular protest took the form of loads of different villages around Cusco blocking up the main roads with rocks, stones, wood and bodies.
The first we knew was that our bus stopped at 3 in the morning in the middle of nowhere. Although quite a few of the peruvians on board left the bus to start walking we decided that bumbling around in the countryside in the dark with a lot of angry people around probably wasn´t the way to go so we settled down in the bus and tried to get a few more hours kip.
By 7 in the morning the sun was blazing and we got up and wandered out to see a huge line of buses and trucks behind us and quite a few villagers and loads of rocks on the road in front. We wandered up to talk to the villagers and they seemed quite fine and happy at that stage, like they were just having a street party that we´d happened to crash. An old guy called roberto, who had his cheeks stuffed with coca leaves, came up to talk to us and did an impressive pantomime act of how the villagers had thrown the rocks down onto the road from the hills above. We gave him our water and wished everyone luck and wandered back to the bus to have some breakfast, trying hard not to think about all of the hungry people around us.
By about 10 in the morning lots more people were milling around and nobody seemed to have a clue what was going on. Meg and I, along with quite a few others, set ourselves up in one of the fields beside the road to get a little sun and got chatted up by a couple of peruvian lads who insisted on taking our pictures and introducing themselves. We were a bit icequeenish for the start but mellowed out and got chatting to Marco and Ronald to pass the time. They totally won our hearts a little later when they went and got some hot drinks for us from a local house and then Marco produced a set of taro cards (quite unexpected because he seemed rather solid and sensible) and gave me a tarot reading in the middle of the field. That was all quite good and then Meg was about to have her reading when things over on the road seemed to explode into quite a bit of turmoil.
We scrambled for our buses and were confronted by the sight of police in riot gear and villagers going for gold. There were rocks flying and villagers disappering into the hills and fields near by and we were a bit shocked when we realised we were all being tear gassed. We jumped on the bus with eyes and nose streaming and burning and then had to quickly get down in the isle and put blankets over oursleves as the windows on the bus were being pelted with rocks. A few windows were smashed and little local ladies on our bus were screaming in terror as well as screaming out obscenities to the rock throwers who they didn´t seem to sympathise with at all.
After an hour or so the police got the upper hand and the whole thing seemed to calm down into a sort of equilibrium. We got off the bus to compare rock throwing and tear gas action with tourists from other buses with a bit of a wary eye in case there were any more stray villagers hanging around with sling shots.
Four hours later nothing seemed to be any clearer about what was happening. The roadblock was there to stay for the meantime and it appeared there were heaps of roadblocks all the way to cusco. Nobody really knew what they should do but it seemed to us we didn´t want to sit around on the side of the road for two days so we and one of the peruvian guys decided so start walking.
It´s a pretty long story the rest this story, but really one of the most amazing experiences we´ve had on this trip. It took us about 13 hours to get to cusco with a combination of motorbike taxis, mini vans and walking. There were zillions of roadblocks of all sorts, mainly rocks that had been placed for 100s of metres in places but even kids were getting in on the act and making their own little roadblock creations with any crap they could lay their hands on.
We were lucky to find quite a few motorbike taxis on the way but everytime we got to another roadblock we´d have to get out and pass on foot. This was a little daunting in places because some of them looked like they were eyeing us up for target practice, but we just tried to look like dumb tourists and that did work mainly, especially after dark when we just slipped past people doing our best phantom impression. We did run into a bit of trouble at one roadblock where there was a particularly angry man with a bullwhip. He wasn´t happy with our presence and probably a bit toasted on Chica (corn alchol) because he started lashing out with his bullwhip. Meg copped a fantastic whack (and lovely bruise) from him on her thigh and Ronaldo also got a good crack. We´d have probably just run away at this stage but the calm Ronaldo (who I think is just used to this sort of thing becuase he´s peruvian) calmed things down and kept guiding us through.
After that bit of excitement we struck a bit of road where there were no motor taxis or any transport and we had to walk about 25 kms (good fun with 20 kgs strapped on your back). By this time there were 6 of us because we´d also gathered into our troop a lovely NZ couple, Ngaire and Wyatt, and a young peruvian girl. The walk would have been reasonably unpleasant in any other circumstances but with the happenings of the night as well as the most beautiful night sky full of stars we´ve ever seen, it somehow kept us in good spirits.
When we did finally make it through all of the protests we were still about 2 hours from cusco and for a while it looked as though we were all going to have to hole up in a barn for the night - complete with fresh straw and a manger (ok, maybe not a manger), but then a very lovely man pulled up with his pickup truck and offered to take us to Cusco. He already had 7 people on board but where there´s a will there´s a way. We ended up 8 people and our packs on the back of the pickup truck thanks largely to skillful stacking and organisation by Wyatt and not minding too much about personal space. It wasn´t the most comfortable time ever but we didn´t really care by that stage and were delerious with happiness when we swung into cusco at about 3 in the morning and were able to make our way to the comforts of a shower and bed.

So that was getting to cusco.

More soon. :-)