Pisac (Cusco, Pisac Archaeological Ruins): 23/05 - 29/05

The next day I returned to Cusco and the South American Explorers where I caught up with Doris who had filled in at Quito while I was there. There I started researching hikes around Cusco and also in Bolivia and got the low-down on the club. I had the option there for me to stay in Pisac at Maggie`s fairly long-term (and cheaply) but I knew I really needed to find some work if that was to be satisfying for me. I dropped off resumes at English schools, was harassed by professional pains-in-the-arse on the street and explored the magnificent architechture and scenic streetscapes of Cusco - a city sometimes described as the pre-Colombian cultural capital and crossroads of South America. Upon conquest the Spanish also recognised something special there and invested much in converting it to a colonial and Christian beauty. These days (especially now during high season) it is rife with tourists visiting the historic centre, the amazing array of ruinsin the area and hiking in the mountains.

The following day I explored Pisac, an artistic and evocative town under the gaze of Incan ruins on top of stark mountains. The ornate streets and architechture here is clearly influenced by the strong indigenous culture and residents and I really appreciated the lack of Christian symbology and churches. It also is a tourist town, being a main destination in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. On this day the bi-weekly tourist market spread out from the Plaza full of utterly useless crap (and some produce to be sure). I am sure that if all the people involved globally in the tacky tourist market trade were to unite in pooling their resources and willpower they could achieve world peace. I also made chocolate muesli biscuits - yum! Yes, these blog posts will turn slightly domestic for a while... :)

As I`d decided to try to make a bash of staying in Pisac for a while I quickly secured the most essential products - speakers for my MP3 player. I also experienced coffee to rival Arabica in Lima at the never-an-empty-seat gringo haunt Jack´s and explored the San Pedro markets full of local produce of every description and three rows of 10 juice stalls all selling exactly the same juices at exactly the same prices with exactly the same presentation.

On the Wednesday I set off up the nearest mountain to the Pisac Incan ruins - this involved taking a locals` track to avoid a hefty entrance fee. The vegetation was quite interesting , a mix of spiky shrubbery and bromeliads, needle-grass like tussocks and cactii. The ruins came slowly - first, a few Incan agricultural stone terraces, then a gateway and finally the splendidly-designed villages interlinked by pathways and spectacular terraces stepping down the slopes. It was amazing and more than I`d expected because of a comparitive lack of hype surrounding the Pisac site. The surrounding mountains of the Sacred Valley added to the dramatic effects. The ruins were built (and recently extensively reconstructed) into the shape of the landscape and as such were anything but generic reproductions, with steep staircases, battlements, ceremonial & communal spaces and grandiose entranceways. It was a hearty few hours of hiking around the large site, up, down and around the mountain. Lots of tourists joined me up there being a tour day. The height gave great views of the valley, township and my house - the top right photo has a group of house at the cente of the very bottom and my house is the third from the bottom left. Jealous¿ :)

After a steep and slippery short cut down to the main path I passed a person who appeared to be a park official. Soon after I took the short cut down to my corner knowing that he`d probably see me on the decidedly unofficial path - he sure did, and seemed to stay in the one spot watching me descend all the way to the road. This made me a little nervous as I knew he had a mobile for communication and I didn`t have much of a backup plan if confronted regarding my lack of ticket. As I approached the road a police car pulled up directly underneath me... oh ohhh! I just put my head down and hot-footed it around the corner to descend to the road fully expecting the welcoming arms of the law... but nothing came of it. Phew!

On the Friday night I had my first experience with ayahuasca, the hallucinogenic/medicinal plant of indigenous Amazonian shamans throughout the north and west Amazon basin. The ceremony was held by (international) members of the Pisac alternative community in a beautiful domed space in a treed glade close to our house. The shaman thoroughly explained ceremonial protocol, what to expect and possible side effects. He then undertook the long opening rituals including giving thanks to the Earth and Universe, the plant and everyone in attendance. Smoke was used around the ayahuasca liquid and then gestured in the direction of each individual in acknowledgement of their prescence. Finally the imbibing started - each in turn positioning themselves on a mat in front of the altar and shaman, receiving their cup with thoughtfulness and then, having completed their own personal prayers, actions or thoughts, speaking the Quechua words `Kawai Paq` and sculling.

The drink itself wasn`t as bad tasting as I`d thought it would be given the testimonials of users I`d encountered during my extensive research. It was kind of yellow-brown and tasted strongly yeasty but nothing really compared to extract of golden seal and echinacea. I returned to my seat and waited for the circle´s drinking to complete itself - then the lights went out. At first it was complete silence for about 15 minutes. After that the live music started from fellow partakers with guitar, Andean flutes, drums, harps and voice. The primary musicians were the shaman (gentle and heartfelt with a beautiful voice) and another Ayahuasquero (also beautiful but more rhythmical and wicked).

The plant`s active psychotropic ingredient is DMT, a substance naturally produced by the pineal gland during times of irregular consciousness such as near-death experiences, dreamstates, death and birth. Not having consumed any harder drugs in a long time, being pretty fit and having fasted for half the day I was strongly affected. Throughout the experience I attempted to maintain strong and consistent breathing as my mind wandered down infinite paths following psychadelic visions. I came to many useful insights into the nature of humanity and my own life and purpose but to some ridiculous ones also. Essentially though, I was tripping balls.

The respectful and supportive space, the delicately emotional music with it`s simple, loving messages and a consistent return to breath kept me connected to Earth and I only once experience fearful images which soon dispersed. I actually can`t remember a whole lot of my visions as I needed to consistently re-focus my mind to the breath due to the strength of the drug (or medicine as the shamans call it). The medicine in combination with the music at times evoked in me crying, moaning, laughing and all kinds of movement including lots of stretching. Taking ayahuasca often results in vomitting and diahorrhea which I didn`t experience like some of the others present. Lots of vomitting.

Finally I felt back in control of my mind about one hour before the close of ceremony which included much of the same rituals as the opening but also acknowledgement of all the musicians including volunteer singers from the participants. Then came a slow unwinding, debrief and hug session. It had been an astounding experience and very worthwhile - I was energised... and hungry. After returning home to porridge I slept soon after for a few hours then arose again to continue the voyage relaxing and exploring the experience at cafes with recovering friends. But when it came to sleeping that night, I couldn`t. The ayahuasca was working on my digestive system and wouldn`t permit things to move through without extensive massaging, stretching and breathing, essentially to correct posture and unblock stagnant energies. Four hours later I fell into a loggish sleep exhausted.

Lima - Cusco - Pisac: 20/05 - 23/05

I took the kids to Arabica, where I had the best coffee I`ve had here in South America; simply divine. Jess b-lined for Starbucks and a half-litre Chai Latte which satisfied her in more ways than one, IF you know what I mean. Wink, wink, nudge nudge, say no more. We saw Iron Man 2. Of course Arabica was visited again the following days and I managed to expensively get my data off my USB stick to DVD. At the Miraflores cliffside park I saw a jogger with his full tracksuit made of crinkly grey tarpouline plastic, pin-striped with red and yellow sucked up his arse and tucked in socks. Pure disco.

Our hostel obviously had found it`s way onto the online "Israeli-friendly hostel" list as 95% of the 25 or so people there were Israeli. Now, I don`t have a problem personally with Israelis; they`re generally friendly and interested. But en masse they start to become a little grating on the nerves. They can be a bit dismissive towards locals and staff, they`re generally pretty lazy and messy and they don`t like to spend any more money than necessary. Hence the free internet computers were always in use, the TV/DVD was never free and liking their own company a lot they kind of took over the hostel. However I think the staff shared our sentiments as they refused at least 2 more large groups of prospective Israeli clients and kept our 8 bed dorm free for just us 3! Thanks The Shark. Your hostel was all-in-all pretty %&% but you sure did us a favour!¡

I said good-bye to Chris and Jess for which I actually was a bit emotional - we`d become good friends in our few weeks together but such is the life of a rolling stone. Bye guys! Suerte con todo¡ The main bus company area of Lima is a crazy affair which immediately put my thief radar onto ultra-alert, crowded streets and terminals that I don`t doubt harboured many potential criminals. Speaking of criminals, a mining corporation were unhindered in handing out shiny propaganda leaflets inside the bus terminal. " It`s free!", the smiling recipients assured me before I told them and the deliverer what I really thought of them. I was also apparently travelling on a 100% CO2 neutral bus... ahhh, breath easy tonight.

My investment in buscama (bed-seat) paid off as I was able to sleep overnight despite a hellishly twisting journey to Cusco. It also gave me a great view of The Biggest Douche In The Universe 2010, Sandra Bullock, in some ridiculous film. By the morning the road was calmer bringing us to dusty high-altitude canyons ravaged by centuries of farming - they evoked images of American Western Indian ambushes. We climbed higher and slower around the mountains which revealed surreal glaciers and epic snow peaks. The driving was at times both incredibly slow and erratic - at one point we came within one metre of driving off a bridge into the river below. But even great things come to an end sometime and we came at last to Cusco. There I at last spoke on the phone with Maggie who I had met in Posada del Maple and invited me to journey down to Pisac near Cusco to visit. She wanted to live in a wooden house, where making more friends would be easy, but it turned out to be mud-brick instead.

So at the bus terminal (in between logisitics for getting to Maggie`s place) I was accosted by drug police. At first I didn`t believe them and kept walking as one of their IDs was expired by 3 years. But big boss cop in uniform soon appeared to assure me that they were police - I reluctantly went with them to have EVERYTHING in my possession searched. I was apoplectic with rage but restrained myself enough knowing the lawlessness that sometimes reigns here. One of them was playing the `Stupid $%$ing $%$/head Dumb Cop` role to perfection. `When did you get in from Lima? At 3.30? That`s not right.` (Buses arrive all the time from Lima); `What were you just doing in the internet cafe?` (checking out how to make cocaine on the internet, what else?); `This is a Peruvian phone.` No, its not, half-wit, but if it was, take me straight to the electric chair, that`s a crime against humanity that is. So after they took my sizeable bribe for carrying high-grade Colombian (coffee, that is), I had to completely repack my pack and restrain myself from spitting in their fayces.

I caught a shared taxi/rally car to Pisac, contacted Maggie and finally made it to her place - one of a group of mud-brick eco-dwellings inhabited by various hippiesh types on the outskirts of town. Over a lovely pasta meal I met some of her neighbours like Laura, Jarrah and Maya and Nathan from Sydney. I was made to feel right at home straight away which I wholly appreciated - I had been so transient in my travels that to stay in one spot was a great relief of burden.... ahh.

Bombuscaro - Zamora - Loja - Vilcabamba - Loja - Piura - Lima: 17/05 - 20/05

I legged it to Zamora to catch another hellish bus ride standing up the whole winding way to Loja including a 1hr wait for 50m of roadworks - get your &//)& $&%$ together people! Although I do remember someone telling me the going rate for a roadworker is $200... a month. Try keeping a smile on your fayce living on that! Afterwards was the quick transfer and mini-bus back to Vilcabamba and the Jardin. I was feeling pretty good before my busses that day... just goes to show you Ecuadorian buses may be cheap but they sure are nasty!

When I got back I tried to process photos but found my digital joystick had caught an STD in the jungle and everything I tried to stick it into wanted me to wipe it clean before it would be accepted. Bugger!! I chatted online with Jess from Canoa about an early morning rendevouz in the Peruvian border town Piura.

Later I visited Rumi Wilco, described as an eco-lodge in a wilderness sanctuary. In reality it was some cabins on the river on a weed-infested and eroded patch of land - albeit perfectly positioned on the outskirts of town. The managers had developed a series of well-marked interpretive trails complete with map and natural history of the area. They had signed many plant species, mostly weeds, with their scientific names and included interpretation piece for significant geographical events too. I walked around for a bit, completely underwhelmed by the beauty of my immediate surroundings but very much enjoying the sunset. But actually to me that`s permaculture (if I say something`s "permaculture", I mean I fully approve of it on sustainability principles). To take a crap piece of land that probably cost them next to nothing, research and develop educational activities asking only a small donation and invite pèople to explore. That`s cool, using what you`ve got.

I caught an evening bus to Loja to connect with the over-nighting border-crossing sleep-restricting bus of slightly higher quality than previous ones including 4hrs of long winding downhill. Together with Elizabeth from Austria we changed countries easily, bored border guards smoking, grunting and pointing our way to Peru.

And so I said good-bye to Ecuador after two months. It is definitely my favourite country so far - beautiful and accessible nature, cheap and at the end of the day great people - friendly, helpful, honest and generally not pushy. I loved it when a complete stranger would walk past me at a restaurant table and say "Buen provecho" (enjoy your meal). How cool`s that¿! I`ll miss you, Ecuador!!

The roads immediately got better and flatter and we soon entered the drylands of coastal Peru. Piura is a busy transit centre with, like many Peruvian cities, no central bus terminal. This meant Elizabeth and I were forced to walk bleary-eyed and tired from company to company trying to find her a bus to Trujillo while full loaded with backpacks. While down one side street some godless street-urchin reached into my left pocket and cleanly stole $40, managing to only just escape me despite my 25kg of packs front and back and hiking clod-hoppers. I assumed he must have followed me for over half an hour since our original terminal where I had fuzzy-headedly forgotten to transfer the cash into my wallet.

Elizabeth caught her bus and I managed to find Jess and Chris which alleviated my ill-feeling somewhat. We changed moneys, had breakfasts and coffees and explored Piura a little, including seeing this ladies-only gym with irresistible personal trainer, Cesàr. I whole-heartedly re-immersed myself in the pleasant and inviting Peruvian culture of beeping with every second breath. We found bargain bed-seats for our overnight and restful journey to Lima which included the obligatory 1.5hr stop for a flat and the amusing 5min stop for running out of petrol. The desert and ocean landscapes combined with at times desperate poverty made for surreal and depressing experience. Grundgy, trafficky grime welcomed us to Lima, we arrived at the terminal and taxied to our hostel in Miraflores.

I had previously expressed my dislike of Peru to many other travellers, however in discussions with some pro-Peruvians I had agreed to clear the negative mist from my eyes and gaze anew. Well, my new eyes saw a warm and gracious welcome from a fine and upstanding citizen of Piura. I could easily have been negative about the experience - but in reality he was trying to help me. To let me know I had to lift my game, not to bring any weak ·$&& into tha house or it`ll be thrown right back in your fayce as we`d say in basketball. Harden the %/&$ up, Australia, and get wise while you`rè at it. So thanks to my stranger-thief. What I`ve learnt from you is more valuable than the money you took - I see that money as a down-payment on when we might next meet, when I can bestow upon you a grateful kiss. A Liverpool kiss, that is.

Podocarpus National Park (Bombuscaro): 14/05 - 17/05

Between the park entrance and the office/camping area some 20 minutes away there were several blatantly tree-hugging statements on signs emblazoned with the national park's logo, like this one which translates as " This land is ours; many have died, some still live but most have yet to be born. " How cool's that? I wish DSE Victoria would do that instead of facilitating destruction of some of the tallest and most carbon-dense old-growth forest in the world.

The rainforest was beautiful and just what I needed to cool me down and chill out for a while. I set camp without a fly for the first time in the Western Hemisphere to enjoy the cool night and clear starry sky. Later while in deep sleep I was of course awoken by the rain and was forced into putting up the fly while confused, swearing and wet. As I began that process I heard something four-legged up and slink away from my tent. I fantasised it being one of the many different types of small feline forest predators, but in reality it was most likely the mangy dog I saw around camp the next day.

My sleep was not good but eventually the alarm got me up the next morning in order to begin creating my illusion to the park guards that I had just arrived that morning. After much effort the plan executed as intended (saved $3... yes!). That day, despite being in lush jungle, was a big trip through Struggle-town. The heat, bad sleep and no morning exercise routine had left me deflated, however I know that the real culprit was a lack of caffeine. Like most drugs, she's a rough lover. All good when you can feed the habit, but stop it entirely and she drops you like a bag of cement. Despite drinking buckets of beautiful water for most of the day I had a fuzzy headache and my muscles should really not have come in to work that day at all.

After a morning nap I followed the main river south along a path that slowly ascended through the forest. I stopped often to admire butterflies of amazing design and striking colours as well as other insects, fungii, plants and a calvacade of cascades across the path. I went past an old settlement full of weeds, sugar cane and even a well-fruiting mandarine tree. I promised myself a feast on the way back. Eventually I turned around and trudged back, getting crankier and tirederer with every clawing vine, spiders web and slippery rock. I stopped in for my mandarine feast and discovered a new level of sourness previously unknown to man. No wonder the birds didn't go for them. It really was a beautiful walk though and towards the camp my energy finally started to pick up. Three tourism students from Loja joined me at the ranger's office/camp area and of course couldn't believe my going into the park alone or my high-tech Trangia cooker.

I didn't plan to do much the following day and after exercising did just that. After lunch it was a steep ascent up the closest ridgeline to a lookout with fantastic views.... of the town. Oh well, keep following the increasingly trickier and more overgrown track. This walk certainly challenged me (more than I'd hoped for the day)- I had to stop every 3 minutes to catch my breath and take photos. I saw this startlingly blue mushroom of which I ate some (but none of the brown acid). When I finally reached the top I found it was a research trail testing carbon density in low montane forests. I sat on the planed ridgeline in the simpler forest and enjoyed the filtered sun and incoming storm. It was lovely and peaceful. Meanwhile a bevy of different flying insects (not many actual mosquitoes, mind you) were drawn closer to imbibe on my blood, sweat and other bodily excretions. I returned down, down, d down down to the turnoff to La Poderosa (Powerful Waterfall) where I managed to get in a quick shower in between visits from local families as the rain came down. Very refreshing. After getting back to camp I dinnered early and relaxed in the tent to avoid voracious insects. The next morning was an early start to pack and get out of there back to Zamora.

Vilcabamba - Podocarpus National Park - Loja - Zamora: 09/05 - 14/05

My first impression of Vilcabamba was that it was a complete new-age hippy fest. Chakra re-alligning, rolfing and pranic breath workshops sat alongside expensive gringo run and frequented cafes with names like Cosmos. There was a Raw Food Festival on when I arrived which meant the aforementioned cafes were full of mainly American hippies basically just talking about food ('I can't eat sweet fruits, just sour ones') and in some cases taking time out of the hectic schedule to roll another rollie - local organic tobacco of course.

On the first day I visited my friend Peter who I met in Quito and had offered me a recently closed bar position at his hostelresort. I then headed for Mandango Mountain on a complete weed-fest of a trail up an eroded but spectacular ridge line with great views of the valley and township. It had been a long while between drinks for Jesus porn and me, so at the top I was inspired to make my own. Please note the real crown of thorns. I don't intend offense to the big J-dog in the sky or those that hold him dear, but definitely a big skyward middle finger to all the trippers that have and continue to cause fear, destruction of culture and death in his name. Ahh, I love a blog, I can rant as much as I want! * Note > please don't copy or distribute my high-quality erotica as I do not wish it to end up on the Christian home-porn web-site, J-tube.

I charged on to finish quickly but took the wrong ridgeline and soon found myself staring down an ultra-steep descent on both sides and directly in front of me, barely navigable with such dusty, crumbling soil. I made it though, continuing on to soon find a true 90 degree cliff this time. I had to switchback slowly across, around and down to get back to the ridgeline, then jogged through the thorny African weeds to reach the road.

That evening I ran into Umberto and Layla from Madrid who I'd met in Cuenca and together with Laura from Belgium we organised to hike the waterfall circuit near town the next day. This turned out to be quite difficult to follow and we eventually gave up, instead settling for a swim in the icy river and almuerzo at Little Italy. Anna and Niall had arrived from Cuenca the night after me and we caught up one morning for coffee before they set off for the waterfalls (after each hiring a whole horse) and I for Podocarpus National Park.

The walk was about 22km all up apparently and with an altitude change of 2500m up and down was quite a strong day. Once through boring Vilcabamba town I ascended through shit weeds and farmland for a good few hours. The vegetation eventually turned to fire-altered native scrub. The day was clear and ht and I pushed myself to get to the shade of the forest-line, which never came until right at the end. There were some nice views into the park but all in all it was another disappointing day - in my opinion Vilcabamba is well over-rated in terms of natural beauty. After 4.5 hrs of caning it I arrived at the park boundary where the vegetation immediately became beautiful cool cloud-forest. I chilled at the little refuge there for a few hours, including lunching, meeting Fernando from Spain (yes, I have again taken up the huge challenge of trying to understand rapid and blurred Spanish from Spaniards) and his guide and a lush waterfall swim to wash off the sweat and exploring the few trails available in the park. The vegetation and colours in the forest were amazing. After taking some more sun I ran and rock-stepped back the looong descent from whence I came to Vilcabamba before being sold an humita, moist warm corny stuff with cheese inside. Mmm, choclo con queso!

After an expensive but yummy Mexican dinner with Niall and Anna that evening, we caught up again briefly in this morning before departing, they to Peru and I to the other jungly side of Podocarpus NP near Zamora. Bye Niall and Anna, nice hanging out with you! The bus transfer in Loja was quick and easy but the subsequent bus to Zamora made me feel like I was in Peru again - stuffy and hot because of cold-fearing locals, blaring cumbia music and a crazy irresponsible driver. But while being quite torturous it was simultaneously beautifully scenic at times driving through the National Park and steep jungle clad valleys. Upon arrival with travel headache I walked around in circles to eventually find a quite useless Environment Department, had lunch (next to some psycho-looking husband monologuing at his wife who stared off with vacant eyes while holding the baby - ahhhh, life´s good) and then hiked out the 7km to the park. It was a beautiful walk in the afternoon sun into the rainforest alongside the raging river and past pretty waterfalls. But hang on, some of that land could´ve been farmed... What are you doing Ecuador¿ You´ve failed in your mission to deforest and farm every possible skeric of terrain possible in your country... For shame!!

Lake Toreadora - Cuenca - Loja - Vilcabamba: 09/05 - 10/05

I turned towards Cuenca and continued my trek down the road. A públic bus refused my outstretched hand like it should´nt´ve, and I of course resented the tirade of passing new 4wd´s until one stopped to give me a lift - albeit in the tray. As I jumped in like a deliriously crazed mutt I felt a crunch against the tray from where my camera was in my pocket.

STOP PRESS: It has been reported that there is a new ´Bermuda Triangle´ - this one appears to suck camera batteries into its evil vortex. It is situated in the Ecuador/northern Peru region between Tarapoto in Peru and Cayambe and Cuenca in Ecuador. Three batteries so far have been reported missing and/or stolen or broken. This has caused serious concern and of course financial setback to the previous owners but more intriguing to the victim is what´s the source of this mysteriously powerful epicentre of dark magic.

The wind and my saturated clothes kept me cold and shivering the whole way back to the town centre where I gratefully jumped out - I considered myself lucky to survive two things that day... hypothermia and that dude´s Indy 500 cornering. Although back in mild Cuenca I still shook and trembled uncontrollably on the way back to the hostel where (all former bitterness forgiven) I revived with my longest hot shower in recent history. It had been the most challenging weather I´d ever experienced while in the wilderness and I felt well and truly over the high mountains of Ecuador.

I soon discovered the ´crunch´ I´d heard when mounting the ute was the collision of my camera battery and the tray and it was dead. Charger? No. Camera? No. Unrevivable. Cest la vie but jeez they´re not cheap. So I packed for leaving for Vilcabamba late the next day, when I processed photos, sent parcels and ate more pan de yuca con yogurt.

Note (also a true story): The aforementioned dead battery I had left to the evil of the Triangle, but decided to try my own magic, praying to the purest source I knew, the Elves of Middle-earth. "May the light of Eärendil guide you." were my words. A few moments later the camera sprang to life! A miracle; and proof that the power of the Elves and the Three Rings still endures in Middle-earth and will prevail over such malditions as the cursed ´Bermuda Triangle´.

The bus journey to Loja was long and I finally got to see a non-Hollywood film, Robert Rodriguez´s ´El Mariachi´. In the early evening we arrived in pretty, clean and modern Loja and I ate and changed buses to head to Vilcabamba. The journey was nice even in the dark and I arrived, found a great little hostel including my own luxury room with loft for $9 and crashed it.