What to do with 8 days in Peru?!

As you may recall from entries past, we have very few engagements which require us to be on time. Aside from picking people up at the airport and... well, picking people up from the airport about sums it up. Yet somehow, we are chronically tardy. Don't worry, it's never really our fault. Honestly. Unfortunately, picking up Katy and Chaney at the airport was no exception. As Mikey and I anxiously awaited their arrival, we were pumped, even prepared drinks to bring to the airport! The only poor planning we are guilty of is mixing the drinks about 45 minutes before the taxi was scheduled to pick us up. We may have been a bit tipsy from tasting our concoction a few too many times. That, compounded by the fact that our taxi driver was a good 30 minutes late picking us up, resulted in the 3-Liter bag of Pisco Sour (Peru's National Drink) we intended to bring to Katy and Chaney looking more like a 2-Liter bag.

While a few minutes late getting to the airport...again...we safely found our friends at the airport, all decked out in our Peru gear, pumped and ready to take on the night.

Knowing that we only had 8 days to do Peru together, we had to make the most of every moment. They arrived at around midnight on a Saturday night. What fortuitous timing. The most popular clubbing night...and nothing gets going until at least 2 am...or so we had heard. Rumors were true and we showed up, 3 liters of pisco down, elbow to elbow in a massive 2 am crowd, at one of the most happenin clubs in Lima. The "entertainment facility" a.k.a. mall, meets theater, meets bar and nightclub scene after hours is a beautiful 4-story establishment built into a cliff, overlooking the ocean. Sweet party spot. That being said, no matter how upscale and American a place appears, we were definitely still in the 3rd world. As we approached the entrance to the club, we realized the posted cover charge was the equivalent of about $35 US. Couldn't be right. Then we realized, like everything else around here, even the swanky nightclubs are meant for bargaining. Fortunately Mikey was a good bit drunk and somehow talked the guy into not only a discount on the individual tickets, but also a buy 3 get one free. Next thing she knew, Katy was getting shuffled through a different line, separate from us 3, very confused on her first night in Peru. Guess she was the one free. Shots and beers later, we were partying with the locals, dancing to everything from Madonna, to Alanis Morisette, to horrible Spanish disco music. The night ended with us all crashing around 4 or 5 am. Success!

We had 2 days left (well, really 2 days total, given the fact they got in at midnight) in Lima and made sure to pack in as much as possible. A little hungover and groggy, we all forced ourselves out of bed on Sunday morning and headed back to the mall to have brunch and admire the view a little more sober with some daylight...or so Katy and Chaney thought. In actuality, Mikey and I wanted to take them back because a few days prior we saw this sign:
For those unfamiliar with the Peru Soles to Dollar conversion, 4.50 soles is $1.50. And yes, that sign says you can have an espresso and a cigar for $1.50. Post brunch, we meandered up there and enjoyed the beginning of a very packed Katy/Chaney vacay.

After getting a good buzz going...the opposite kind from the night before...we were ready to get Katy and Chaney all their Peru gear and souvenirs and get our bargain on at the Indian markets. We kicked that market's ass. From goofy hats, don't worry, Chaney actually bought the one below:

to Peru hats, scarves, sweaters and even matching rings made out of bull horns!

We left for the next activity, prepared and warm! That evening we checked out Lima's newest attraction, the Parque de Aguas. And no, this was not a water park in the traditional sense. It was a city park comprised of 12 beautifully and impressively constructed fountains. Some were just huge, with a laser lights and coreographed music show. Others were interactive, meaning you could walk in and through them. Our favorite fountain was timed to music. If you could figure out the pattern, you could stay dry. If you couldn't figure it out, you'd get blasted in the crotch. We were lucky enough to witness the latter half and were thoroughly entertained watching for almost an hour. Finally, Mikey made us go in and take a pic. Naturally Katy and Chaney had to as well, because no one wants to be a chump.

After leaving the water park, we stopped at the grocery store, picked up a Peruvian beer sampler, and went back to the hostal for a little hostal room party, much more our scene than the previous night of clubbing. The party turned a bit roudy when Katy realized that if she put on Chaney's new hat and a beanie, she would look like his twin. She entertained herself with impressions of him for a good hour. We haven't laughed that hard since we started our journey.

The next day we ventured out on Lima's public transportation system and I was finally able to go into some of the sights I had prepared. With historical notes and all, I was fully ready to give a tour of Lima's historical city center. From churches, to President's palaces, to Cathedrals and Catacombs, we covered it all. We ended with a classic lunch of Cebiche as an appetizer and some sort of fish entree. True Peru style, for both HUGE and delicious portions, we paid less than $3 per person.

Lima done. Wake up at 3 am to catch a dreadful 6am flight to Cusco.

As luck would have it, exhausted from our 2 hours of sleep and now in some serious altitude, we arrived at our hostel with a messed up reservation and a room we couldn't check into until 1pm. It was about 7:30am at this point. Shit. Embracing the spirit of being in Cusco, the capital of the once Inca empire, we slammed a Coca tea, made an iced one in a 3-Liter bottle to go and decided to trapse around the city. Well, I'm not sure if it was a hangover, lack of sleep or the altitude, but I didn't make it very far. As soon as I found a bench, I needed to rest, even if I was in the Central Plaza...
And it wasn't just me having trouble. As soon as we stepped off the plane, Mikey started freaking out...

Hey guys! Mike here! Wuddup... So, I was a little nervous about taking off from sea level and landing at 11,500ft above sea level in the historical Inka capital of Cusco. As you may or may not know, I like air. More than most people I would assume. Because, after all, I was the only one freaking out when we landed and the cabin actually depressurized from the altitude (probably an exhaggeration, but I swear it happened). When I took my first breath, I actually did a double take, and tried to take another breath because the air was so thin and unfulfilling. Being the cool cat I pretend to be, I played it cool until we grabbed out bags and then hopped in a taxi. Then I had a legit panic attack. I was like, "Hey guys, do you feel like the air is really thin?" They were like, "No..." So I was like, "Try taking another breath, maybe you just got a good one. Don't you feel like you're suffocating?" They were like, "No..." So, the good friend that I am, I continued freaking out the whole cab ride to our hostel until I sufficiently freaked everyone else out. Maybe not because they couldn't breath, but because they thought I was dying. Sorry, Marisa. Don't worry folks back home! I'm fine. It was all in my head... probably because I didn't have enough oxygen getting to it.

On a search for cheap sunglasses and then an epic walk to find food, what felt like hours and hours, miles and miles (probably more like an hour and not even a mile...but in altitude, uphill on the first day, ouch.), we finally just settled to eat in the next place we could find. We walked into the "restaurant," or so it was advertised from the outside, and quickly realized we were in some lady's kitchen. At that point, none of us cared, and we went with it. Unfortunately, Katy being a vegetarian posed a little problem as this woman didn't seem to know what it meant to cook without beef. We ordered 3 (still not sure if there were choices or if she only sold one thing), and Chaney went with Katy to find something at the store across the street. When he returned, Katy had a dirty piece of queso fresco and we had 3 bowls of mystery meat soup. Sounds worse than it was. Soup actually tasted ok. The worst part were my fears of what kind of illness we might contract. Katy's dirty cheese was just kind of gross though. She didn't really eat. The bill came, and for all 3 of us, we paid about $1.50. Given that none of us ended up sick, worked out well!

Katy's wish also came true and she found tons of women offering photo ops with baby alpaca.

I look happy in the photo, but I was afraid of the little sucker. While I held the baby alpaca, the ladies were trying to get Katy to pay to hold the kid. Damn third world.

We had effectively wasted enough time that we were able to head back to the hostel and enjoy a long nap. Hours later, we awoke to Chaney finally bored enough, because he can't nap and a tasty snack of packaged cheese and ciabatta breads. Turned out, while we slept, day insomniac Chaney continued the epic walk around Cusco and tasted street vendors' fruit juices (shocking he didn't get sick) and bought us snacks. After having learned our lesson from the night before, we went to dinner, enjoyed the beautiful Plaza de Armas after dusk and made sure to get to bed early.
Katy and I also took advantage of some of what Cusco had to offer. While the boys did god knows what, we got hour long massages for $8, including a 25% tip. And these weren't even sketchy. These topped both our lists of some of the best, technical massages we've ever had. We met back up with the boys, only to find out that after 5 minutes of leaving us, they were offered special massages, weed, coke, amongst the things they told us...fortunately, we found them in their ponchos, sitting in their bunkbeds, having a pow wow at the hostel. We were all knocked out by 10pm, as we had another early morning to catch a train to Machu Picchu!

Bright and early, we found ourselves at the train station, tired, because sleeping in a hostel with 50 party people and sharing a room with 2 random party dudes is no easy feat. Not to mention the fact that our room was cleverly located next to the bathroom. Throughout the night, we awoke to snippets of conversations about hookups, break-ups, lifeplans and definitely some vomiting. Seriously. Recounting the night was almost as good as having been at the bar and having the memories ourselves. Some girl met some dude traveling and we got to witness how she had gotten too needy and attached and now he needed space.

We spent the next 3 hours on the train to Machu Piccu, admiring the glorious Peruvian countryside, adobe homes built in the middle of nowhere, snowcapped mountains, and Chaney and Mike dueling one another for who could take the better picture. Nothing else memorable happened on the train ride. It was long and slow. It even went backwards at one point. I didn't know trains could go the wrong way. It went the wrong way.

We arrived in Aguas Caliente, a shitty little town nestled at the base of the mountain up to Machu Picchu. Seriously, I will quote lonely planet on this one:

"Aguas Caliente...also known as Machu Picchu Pueblo, this village is nestled in the deep valley below Machu Picchu and enclosed by towering walls of stone and cloud forest. Sounds scenic? It's not: this is the ugliest, most overpriced small town in Peru, but all travelers to and from Machu Picchu have to pass through here."

And every word of that description is true. The part that is left out are the nasty little bugs that look like gnats, but bite the hell out of you and leave blood stains strewn all over your skin. Every other word out of vendors is either "happy hour" (starting at 10am) or "free pisco sour" (starting at 10am).

All that aside, we arrived, found our hostel and quickly moved on to the next activity...hiking. We took our day in Aguas Caliente to hike up a mountain called 'Putucusi,' or 'Happy Mountain' in English. It was by far one of the most unique hikes any of us have done. About 20 minutes up the mountain, we hit a ladder with about 6 steps and all thought it was the coolest thing ever. Little did we know that it was the midget ladder, and we were about to climb 5 more, the next being 300% longer. Best part was, we gained elevation very quickly. An hour and a half later, we turned a corner at the top and were all blown away by the view. The top of the mountain was an aerial view of not only Machu Picchu, but also Waynapicchu (the mountain we would climb the next day).

We descended for 45 minutes and finally hit the long ladder again. Very cool going up. Katy and I were not so stoked going down. The ladder was a good 200 feet, at points completely vertical. When we hit the middle, I realized my legs were shaking, which wasn't helping me descend any more safely. Fortunately, I wasn't alone, and looked up to see Katy shaking too. Mike and Chaney took it like champs... pretty much ran down the ladder with no respect for the laws of gravity. I guess, for dudes that cool, gravity doesn't always apply.
After the hike, we did what any seasoned traveler would do before hiking up thousands of steps at the crack of dawn at an elevation of approximately 8000 feet... we drank a lot of beer. We even had to make a second trip to the market around the corner to get more beer. Then we passed out. We managed to not have a drop of alcohol the night before we'd be taking a train ride, but for some reason, the night before an early morning and all-day hiking, beers and pizza topped our list. We woke up at 4 am to climb the nearly 2,000,000 steps from Aguas Caliente to the entrance of the ruins of Machu Picchu!

Unfortunately, when we woke up at 4am, we were a little groggy. It must have been the altitude, definitely not the beers. Thankfully we hydrated the night before...with beers. Oh yeah, and it was raining. Now, we were a little disappointed to find out that it is possible to visit Machu Picchu without walking more than 20 yards. You can fly from Lima to Cusco. Train from Cusco to Aguas Caliente. Bus from Aguas Caliente to the ruins. Snap your photos, then repeat the process in reverse. F that. We vowed to walk every inch. The Inca didn't have buses. And last time we checked, we aren't chumps. So, as we walked through Aguas Caliente at the crack of dawn to tackle the stairs up to Machu Picchu, we passed a line of about 200 people waiting for the first bus to leave at 530am. It amazes me that people are willing to wait in line for almost 2 hours to avoid walking up stairs that only take about an hour. They must be Americans...

Actually, they must not all be Americans, because we learned the night before from an Australian couple that the stairs would be fine for us BECAUSE we're American. Huh? His logic was that we always win the olympics, so all Americans must be good athletes. Fortunately in this case it was true.
You may be thinking, why didn't you just sleep in? The ruins have been there for thousands of years, they're not going anywhere... Well, only the first 400 people to get in the front gate get tickets to climb Waynapicchu, the mountain overlooking the ruins. And we didn't travel all this way to be number 401. So, we climbed 2,000,000 stairs at the crack of dawn in the rain, at altitude, and arrived to the top just before the first bus reached the top. Well, Mike and I did. We got our tickets to Waynapicchu no problem. But Katy and Chaney have longer legs, which seems like a genetic advantage when traveling on foot, yet apparently results in a slight deficit when climbing 2,000,000 stairs. Actually, thanks to all the beers the night before, I think I passed so much gas in Katy's face, she needed extra breathing time. Oops. When they arrived at the top, I snatched their tickets from them while Mike held our place in line, then went back to the front and provided the tickets as if they were mine, ensuring that Katy and Chaney also got their tickets to Waynapicchu. Some may consider this cutting in line. Others consider this a god given right for hiking up 2million stairs at the crack of dawn at altitude. Others just have no shame. Regardless, we were finally at Machu Picchu!!!
With a couple of hours to kill before hiking Waynapicchu at 10am, we wandered around the ruins for the first hour or so in the rain, shivering and cold. The early hour and weather were well worth it, because we wandered all over the place, most of the time with no other tourists in sight. When the initial rush wore off, we realized we needed coffee. So we found the snack shack near the front entrance and ordered four piping hot coffees. No luck. They said they didn't have any coffee. WTF. Who doesn't have coffee. Fortunately, tourists love red bull and everywhere we go, they are always fully stocked. With a hefty imported tax, we bought 4 highly overpriced red bulls, crushed them and found a tour guide for $6 per person.
As always, we lucked out and scored the perfect tour guide, Gloria. She had the aura of an old Incan soul, very soft spoken, calm and spiritual. Turned out she had been a guide on the Inca trail for over 10 years, so she knew quite a bit. So much, that overhearing other guides random tangents, she would pull us aside and tell us they were full of shit. Overall, the 2 hour guided tour was well worth it. Many intricacies and symbols built into the architecture and creations in Machu Picchu we never would have seen. Throughout the tour, the weather cleared and as the clouds rose, the mountains looked like they were on fire. It turned out to be the perfect day. We were able to see Machu Picchu covered in mist and clouds, as well as hot and sunny in the afternoon.
Gloria dropped us off at the base of Waynapicchu and we were forced to wait until exactly 10am, when we were allowed to start hiking. So we stalled, peed on some ruins, then hit the trail. Look closely behind Katy:
At 10 on the dot, more stairs were in our future. A lot more. And really small stairs. Turned out the Incans had very small feet. This was not a huge problem for Mike and I, but the big people had a bit more trouble. We even encountered a tunnel that I could almost walk through. Chaney had to crawl. We think he got stuck, had to rip ass to get out. Unfortunately, Katy was right behind him in the tunnel. Fire in the hole!
Waynapicchu, or young mountain, was really cool and well worth the stairs.The Incas built a trail up the side of the mountain and built temples and terraces on its top. The top was the residence for the high priest and the local virgins. Every morning before sunrise, the high priest with a small group would walk to Machu Picchu to signal the coming of the new day. We found an empty terrace and ate lunch at the top. From where we sat, we could see the whole valley and ruins. It was so steep below us, that we actually got butterflies just sitting there. After a few choice photo ops, and a coca bar that made our tongues numb, we strolled back down.


At this point, it was sunny and hot. We explored the ruins a bit more and finally found the famous Machu Picchu alpacas.
Exhausted at just the right time, as thousands of people had arrived on tour buses, we had accomplished all the ruins and mountain had to offer. We treated ourselves to the overpriced bus to drive us down the hill.

Machu Picchu check.

We showered and hopped a train back to Cusco that night. Our hostel managed to mess up our reservation yet again, but this time we were 4 tired and cranky individuals. We promptly took our stuff and checked in elsewhere. If anyone wants to go to Cusco and stay at the Loki Hostal, don't. They suck. Especially the dude that works at the front desk. He has a disability of some sort.

We found a small hotel down the street run by a family of 4. It was clean, cheap and right down the street. Little did Mike and I know that we would be there for 3 weeks. We mustered up the energy to find a restaurant, eat some soup and fade a jug of sangria. I'm pretty sure we were all in bed and asleep by 10pm.

We woke up in the morning refreshed and ready for a hearty meal. I had read about this Bagel Cafe and was determined to find it. It was everything I had hoped for and more. Fresh bagels, shmear, cucumbers and tomatoes...mmmm. We spent the rest of the day doing some grocery shopping, souvenir shopping and relaxing. Mikey even found a street named in honor of the famous Inca, Thupaq Amaru. Some of you may also recognize that name as the famous west side claiming rapper, 2pac.

The ladies split to look for shoes and we ran into the boys searching for cigars. Plopped in a cafe on a balcony overlooking the main plaza, we enjoyed yet another afternoon of coffee and cigars. Paradise.
Naturally, the next step was to start consuming alcohol. The boys were suckered into rum because it was taped to a bottle of coke. Katy and I decided to be adventurous and find out what Peruvian wine tasted like. We picked the 2 bottles with the prettiest label. Mike picked a bottle off the bottom shelf that was 2 liters of Peruvian wine and cost maybe $3. Ironically, it was the winner. More cigars, cards and many beverages later, we finally took some time to enjoy the company of our friends.

We also took the opportunity to try some of the local food. Guinea pig and alpaca meat. Both pretty nasty.
The next morning, Chaney was on a mission to rent scooters and explore. After haggling with a few dudes, they returned with a $7 per hour deal on scooters. 2 hours later we were on the road. Well...almost. Chaney test drove one scooter first. He looked like Donkey Kong on a mini scooter, but it held up just fine. Mikey, on the other hand, test drove his scooter just at the right time...when the owners walked around the corner. Because the next thing we knew, Mikey came flying down the street, slammed on the brakes, throwing the scooter into a skid. Unfortunately, he slammed the front brake, sending the scooter into the gutter and himself sprawled in the middle of the street. While funny for everyone else to watch, I was a bit nervous, as I had to hop on back. Shit.

Fortunately, Mikey worked out all the kinks before I got on and we were accident free the rest of the day. On top of that, our scooter flew up the hills because it carried a combined 270 pounds, versus Katy and Chaney's scooter, lugging a heftier load. That said, they had the advantage on the downhill.
While most tourists hike up the hill to the ruins, we sat pretty on our scooters and effortlessly explored the mountains and back country. We even took them off roading and on some very questionable "roads." At one point, we found ourselves on a road surrounded by stairs. How we got there, I will never know. We stopped at the grocery store again to stock up for the night and returned the scooters. Well, the boys tried to return the scooters (Katy and I were already cuddled in bed watching a sex and the city), but the owner needed a ride to the bus station. A half hour later, Mike and Chaney found themselves alone at the bus station, with no owner in sight. So they fought the evening traffic through the city and returned the scooters. The owner had no idea that one of the scooters had been dumped in the gutter either. He asked if the scooters were okay. They lied and rolled.
That evening, we took the boys to our previous massage place in hopes of another hour long $7 incredible massage. No such luck this time. We did get $7 massages, but it was amateur hour. They must have pulled in their JV league because a few of the massages were awful. Mike's massage bed even got picked up in the middle of the massage to be moved to a different location where there was a little more room. No one told Mike this. Next thing he knew, he was airborne. And then the massage continued as if nothing happened. Not relaxing.

Naturally, it was time to forget the massages with some alcohol and cigars. Why more cigars? Seemed like a great idea at the time. Maybe not the next morning when we put Chaney and Katy back on a plane to Lima.

Traveling with Katy and Chaney was a dream come true...but now we needed a vacation.

We spent the next week or so bummin around Cusco trying to decide what we wanted to do next. I enrolled in Spanish lessons and got my study back on.



We ended up deciding on a bad ass trek in the Andeas, but more on that later. Stay tuned...

Much love,
Mikey&Marisa

P.S. Good game. Pat pat.

Alpacas, Guinea Pigs & Hairless Dogs

Well, the flight from Miami to Lima was relatively uneventful except for three stories I can think of off the top of my head.

1. The Ticket to Nowhere
We had heard from other travelers, as well as read online, that to gain entrance into Peru you must have proof of onward travel or a return ticket. Not wanting to get kicked off a second airplane, we decided to buy the cheapest refundable ticket we could find online. All went well at the Miami airport, no one even asked about a return ticket. Then we had a huge layover in Mexico City. And again, all went well getting on our flight to Lima... no one even asked about a return ticket. Then when we arrived in Lima and went through customs and immigration, and again, no one asked about a return ticket. So, in essence, this story is about the fact that there is no story to tell. We bought $1500 worth of flights that we didn't need to. These tickets better be refundable.

2. The Smell of Duty Free
During our layover in Mexico City, we had a lot of time to kill. As it was pretty late at night, there was only one store open in our terminal, the duty free. With nothing else to entertain ourselves, we proceeded to smell every mens and womens fragrance in the store and not buy a single one. Let me tell you, there are a lot of awful fragrances bottled and sold in this world. I think I overdosed. Following the overnight flight to Lima, I woke up with a stuffy nose and a cold.

3. The Magic Button
When we arrived in Mexico City, we waited in an enormous line for immigration and customs. Honestly, there was only one dude checking passports and documents for three flights worth of passengers. Luckily, Marisa looked like a local so we cruised through with no problems. Well, almost... Just before the glass doors that lead to freedom, a woman in uniform stops me and starts jibber jabbering in Spanish and pointing to a big red button. She says, "Push it." I say, "No, I don't wanna push it." She says, "Push it." I said, "No. Why, what does it do?" Then she says quite forcefully, "You have to push it!" So I did. I pushed it. And a bright green light flashed before me and I was allowed to walk out the glass doors to the freedom beyond them. Then it was Marisa's turn. She too had to push the magic red button. Unfortunately, the magic button gods didn't smile upon her as they did me. For when she pushed the button, a bright red light flashed before her. And she had to get patted down and searched. Haha! I win. It turns out they were looking for chicken and beef, which you can't bring into the country. Good thing they didn't stop me...of course I had a chicken sandwich in my hand. Luckily, Marisa had a tuna sandwich and we sailed through.

Then, when we arrived in Lima, they possessed magic button technology as well! A veteran button pusher by this point, I was pretty stoked. So I pushed the button with style... and of course... blink... a green light to freedom. No pat down. No strip search. But this time, when I turned around to see if Marisa's inner drug smuggler would be revealed by the magic button, I was astonished to see her walking to freedom right behind me! Apparently, in Peru, if your boyfriend pushes the magic button, and it approves, you are granted freedom by association. I thought that was very nice.

We have spent the past 5 days touring the various districts of Lima and exploring the local ruins of indigenous cultures obliterated by the Spanish conquistadors. Each day so far, one cool thing has happened... Ok, that's a lie. But I'm only telling you one story from each day, because typing feels quite tedious right now.

Day #1: Red Eyes and Stuffy Noses

We arrived in Lima at the crack of dawn, sleepy and sniffling. Specifically, I was sniffling. But neither of us could keep our eyes open. We checked into our hostel in the Miraflores district of Lima and then crashed until about noon. At which time, we gathered every ounce of motivation within our tired bodies and took a brief walking tour of the neighborhood. We found a nice little coffee shop overlooking the central park in Miraflores and just chatted and soaked up the scenery for most of the afternoon. The first day was more like a reconnaissance mission than anything else. We noted that the weather was cold and the alpaca clothing was cheap. We found a shopping mall created within the cliffs overlooking the ocean. We found the closest grocery store to our hostal, bought all the necessary ingredients for chicken vegetable soup, and spent the rest of the evening nose deep in a good book.


Day #2: Alpacas, Guinea Pigs & Hairless Dogs

Refreshed after almost 12 hours of sleep, we set off on foot for a set of local ruins called Huaca Pucllana (pronounced "hoo-aka-pookie-on-uh") located right here in Miraflores. From afar it looked like a dirt hill. Up close, you could see that the local tribes created a pyramid of sorts from mud bricks. Yet, the mud bricks were not fired and the last thousand years reduced the majority of the pyramid to a mound of dirt once again. Also, it didn't help that as the neighborhood of Miraflores expanded, people enjoyed riding their motorcycles and playing soccer in the ruins. All in all, the ruins were pretty cool. Even cooler was all the random stuff we found around the ruins. We saw our first alpacas. We saw the Guinea Pigs they farm and eat. We saw our first Peruvian hairless dogs (which if you pet them are supposed to have healing qualities... and when you pet them it feels like your petting a dinosaur dog). Marisa saw her first aloe plant. And as an added bonus, we saw our first coca plant... next we'll have to try the coca tea. Oh yeah, we found the mecca of all alpaca clothing sales at the local indian markets. We stocked up. I got a sweet poncho and a beanie that says Peru on it. I'll probably get my ass kicked if I wear my new outfit around town tho... its just that good.



Day #3: Seeing without Seeing, Doing without Doing (the haircut)

On the third day of Lima, my true love gave to me... a haircut.
But we'll get back to that one in a minute. We woke up in the morning and experienced our first of many Peruvian bus rides to get to central Lima for our self guided walking tour. Well, actually, we did a tour without doing a tour. It was more of a non-tour really. See, our friends Chaney and Katy are coming to visit us (they arrive in about 3 hours!!!) and we didn't want to tour all the churches and catacombs and museums and stuff only to have to repeat the same tour a few days later. That would be boring. So we did a mock tour. We figured out the bus system and saw the outsides of all the churches and catacombs and museums and stuff so that we knew where they were and then the insides would be exciting and new for all of us at the same time. Also, this gives Marisa time to create a cheat sheet with all the pertinent info for each of the sites we visit. No need to hire a tour guide... we have Marisa!
Ok, back to the haircut. After dinner, and a pitcher of sangria, I let Marisa style my lengthy locks. She seemed confident enough at the time...


Day #4: Pisco Sours and the Police

Well, we both had a couple really good laughs this morning! Then I went to the barber and shaved my head... It turns out Marisa was hoping for divine intervention while cutting my hair. No such luck. Fortunately I bought my alpaca beanie a couple days before and put it to good use until I came across a hair cuttery. I don't know where the day went, but next thing I knew I hopped out of a taxi with no hair and a police man asking me if I needed help. I still don't know exactly why he raced over on his motorcycle and asked us if we needed help. But he did. And we didn't need help. We needed dinner. So we thanked the police officer for coming to our rescue and asked him where we could find dinner. We soon found dinner. And we ordered our first Pisco Sour at a restaurant overlooking the ocean.


Day #5: The Real Peru...

Today we tackled our most adventurous bus route yet and traveled to the ruins of Pachacamac on the outskirts of Lima. Again, from afar, they looked like a dirt hill. Up close much more impressive. But again, centuries of disuse reduced once great temples to mounds of earth. We realized that if we think these ruins are cool, Maccu Picchu is gunna knock our socks off... Which reminds me, I need to buy more socks.




So, there you have it!
We're in Peru and loving every minute of it.
And it gets better!
Chaney and Katy's flight arrives in about 3 hours and they don't know it yet but we're going to meet them at the airport with a smile and a hug and about 3 liters of Pisco Sour!

Rock on!
Mikey&Marisa

Montanas, Playa, Cuidad... Miami?

Chapter One: The Mountains

"The sun was high overhead, but we could not see it, could not feel its warmth. We were tired, hungry, unable to breathe, and the temperature dropped over 20 degrees in as many seconds. Our hands were swollen, our feet muddied and abused. We had already lost a man that morning..."

Dramatic, yes, but true nonetheless.
We'll back up a day so as to get you all caught up...

From Bocas del Toro, we took a bus to Boquete, a small town nestled in the mountains with a plethora of wildlife, nature trails, coffee plantations, and gated communities. Yes, gated communities... Boquete has been recognized as one of AARP's top 4 retirement destinations since 2005. Due to a minor miscommunication and a cell phone lost under the drivers seat of a car, we arrived in Boquete and were unable to contact the people we intended to stay with. Luckily, travelers are a social bunch and we had made a couple friends on the bus ride from Bocas del Toro with good hostel recommendations.

On our first night in town, we decided it would be a great idea to get up at the crack of dawn the next day and hike up Volcan Baru, the highest point in all of Panama. From the top it is possible to see both the Pacific Ocean and the Carribbean, weather permitting. We mentioned to a few people at the hostel that we were planning to hike the volcano and they asked if we were going to do the hike overnight. After an overnight hike up half dome just a couple of months ago, we were in no mood to spend another sleepless night walking with headlamps. Not to mention, we had no idea what kind of trail we were getting into, a guide costs $90 per person, and there was a missing person's poster hanging in the hostel looking for a guy who attempted the hike a few days prior and never came back. True story.

In anticipation of our grueling hike the next day, we stuck to a strict regimen of cervezas and french fries until about midnight. Incredibly, while drinking beers, we saw a girl that looked exactly like Joe Dirt. Actually, Marisa first noticed this girl because it looked like she wasn't wearing any pants. Then, I noticed the sweet mullet. Now, up until this point, I only knew one other person in this world who could recite "Joe Dirt" line for line (Chaney). Out of nowhere, the man next to me started saying that he wanted to hook up with Joe Dirt, and proceeded to crack us up with quotes from the movie. The man's name was Slade and he was effectively pursuing the ultimate endless summer, surfing in competitions around the world. We asked him if he was a pro-surfer and he responded, "No." It was his belief that someone could only be considered a professional if they can make a living doing that special something. We asked him what he did for a living to fund the endless summer. He shrugged and told us that at the ripe age of 32, he still has never had a job. He just surfs... On top of that, he had recently gotten second place in a surf competition in Costa Rica and was currently partying away his $1500 prize with us and a bucket of beers. Quite the character. We consider him a professional.

After another bucket of beers, we were able to convince one of our other new friends to join us at 5am the next morning to tackle the volcano. Sometimes you look at someone and think, "Wow! They look sporty... like a natural athlete." Others you look at and think, "Wow! They just agreed to hike 30km at altitude and they haven't stopped chain smoking all night... they must be a natural athlete... or really dumb." Yes, the hike was 30 km round trip (18 miles for us Americans), climbing about 2000 meters (over 6000 feet) and after about 4 km we lost our new friend. Like the night before, he started the morning smoking a cigarette while we waited for the cab to take us to the base of the Volcano. It took about 5 minutes into the hike before he was gasping for breath and about 45 minutes before he gave up. Listening to his breathing actually made me breath harder, hoping that some of my residual oxygen would make it into his lungs.

After our friend's departure, we continued the next 26km alone. The trail was one of the worst we have ever hiked, and it didn't help that it was the rainy season. That said, the hike provided some incredible scenery. In one valley we passed through, we came across a field of wild lilies (neither of us had ever seen lilies in the wild) and in another Marisa saw her first baby sheep up close. Along the way, we got a couple awesome views of the Pacific Ocean. In total, it took us 5 hours to reach the top and we had blue skies the whole way... almost. When we were within 100 meters of the top, it went from blue skies to downright nasty within 20 seconds. Windy, misty, rainy, cold. We couldn't see more than 10 feet in front of us at times. We hung out at the top long enough to snap a few pix and catch our breath, then headed back down. It rained the whole way down. When we got to the bottom we realized that we were still like 10km from town and there was not a taxi in sight. Fortunately, we managed to hitch hike back to town. I don't know if it was the amount of leg that Marisa was showing off, or the fact that people think I can speak Spanish for the first 10 seconds... but a nice local picked us up and even gave us a tour of the town before dropping us off back at our hostel.

When we returned, Marisa checked her email and saw a message from the Osbornes asking us to call as soon as we got back. Janet and Newton are our new friends, and the parents of Marisa's friend from high school. We called and Janet quickly came to pick us up and "save us" from the hostel life. They were wonderful hosts and showed us around Boquete for three days to ensure we got a feel for life there. Newton grew up in Panama, so it was a great way to learn about Panama and how much the country has changed over the last several decades. Our other favorite member of the family was their new dog, Lexi! Janet warned us before we got to the house that they have a crazy dog and we learned why...she's half lab and half pit bull! Janet pretty much freaked out when I told her that Lexi looked like a pit bull mix. I had to pull up pictures online to prove it to her. If you are reading this, Janet, thank you for being our "Panama mom" and ensuring we had enough snacks, contact numbers and plans for the rest of the country.


It turns out that the best coffee in the world is produced in Boquete so we finally sacked up to take a real coffee plantation tour... 3 hours worth of coffee education. It was actually a great, informative experience and we now know all 16 steps in the coffee making process. Proof: hand picking, washing, floating, pre-drying, drying, peeling, sorting by shape, sorting by size, sorting by density, sorting by color, roasting, drinking, drinking some more, pooping it out... Well, it turns out that we should have paid a little more attention and written our blog a week ago because we can't remember all the steps now! Anyway, on our walk through the fields, our guide pointed out the most expensive beans, the Geisha, and naturally I pilfered a fruit off one of the bushes to dry and send back to Mountain View. If anyone can grow a coffee plant, its my mama. Last year, the Geisha beans unroasted sold for $440 a pound. Although it is grown in Boquete, you can't taste it because it is only exported. Fine. We'll grow some on our own then... suckas!

Chapter Dos: Playa

"The sun was high overhead, luckily, the palm trees provided shade for our hammocks gently swaying in the warm breeze. There was no ice on our tropical island the size of a football field, no coca-cola either, but there was enough rum to last for 3 days! So I drank the rum till it was gone... and in the process, found myself turning darker and darker... transforming into The Fire God!"

Again, true story... I'll back up again.

As we planned the last 2 weeks left in Panama, we decided to stop somewhere along the Pacific to check out Panama's Pacific beaches. We learned that aside from the bigger vacation destinations in Panama, the rest is pretty undeveloped and empty. We went to Playa Santa Clara, which we read was one of the nicest beaches along the Pacific...hmm...we spent one night. One night was one night too much.

We hopped the first bus out of there and headed for Panama City. A few days prior, we had received a recommendation from Janet's friend to check out a hostel in Panama City that set up trips to the Commarca de San Blas. For those not in the know, San Blas is a conglomeration of about 400 islands (aka 400 slices of tropical paradise with white sand and palm trees and crystal clear water) occupied by the Kuna Yala, an indigenous tribe that has been technically autonomous from Panama since the 1930s. Somehow, they have maintained their traditional lifestyle, living in thatched roof huts, with no running water or electricity. Thus, the tourists do the same. We had heard mixed reviews about whether San Blas was an option for budget travelers. On top of that, we'd heard that you have to bring your own food because some islands don't have enough. Wrong and kinda wrong. We got to the hostel and were told we could leave the next morning for San Blas in a 4x4. Then, when we arrived in the islands, it would only cost $20 per night, 3 meals included. Granted the lady that set us up only spoke Spanish, so we weren't COMPLETELY sure what we were getting ourselves into, but from what we understood, sounded sweet!

Now, most people fly to the Islands of San Blas. Yet, we are not most people. We are on a shoestring budget. So, we awoke at 4:30 the next morning to be picked up by a 4x4 that would drive us along a road that didn't even exist on any map of Panama for 5 hours, all the way to Carribean side of Panama, where a little wooden boat with a 25hp motor would take on the open ocean for over an hour to get to our own private island, Isla Pelicano.

Remember that scene from "Pirates of the Caribbean," when Johnny Depp gets stranded on a deserted island. Well, that's what our island looked like. It was straight out of a movie set. The place where the pirates dropped their treasure and drank rum. And that's exactly what we did, we drank rum and relaxed. In fact, there was nothing else to do but relax. Our island was the size of about half a football field and slept about 20 people. The water was turquoise blue, with snorkeling just off the tip of the island, calm waves, tons of palm trees, coconuts and hammocks. As for the food, we were in heaven. When we first arrived, the island's chef informed us that the only thing he'd be able to feed us was fresh fish and lobster because that was all they can catch off the islands. We said, "Shit!" Uh... yeah, chef dude... I think we'll survive.

We spent the next 4 days making new friends, chatting with new friends, lounging in the water, napping in hammocks, napping in the water, lounging in the hammocks, eating more lobster than we have had in our lives... and drinking rum. We underestimated how remote this was going to be and when people said bring whatever you want to have the next few days they meant it, because there was no place to stock up. Fortunately we listened to their advice and brought like 9 liters of water, some cookies, and rum. Unfortunately, we forgot a mixer... or a chaser. Thus, straight up and warm it was. I was used to this from my days in the Corps, but Marisa is yet to appreciate the intricacies of rum on the rocks... minus the rocks. Good thing there were plenty of coconuts to cut open.

From the looks of it, we thought we could swim to the next island in the chain. We asked the chef if it was possible to swim with the ocean currents and what not, and he said that he had seen people do it before, but beware, because there are sharks when the water gets deep. Marisa didn't like hearing about the whole "shark" part... So I gave her some goggles, a yellow blow up raft, and quick shove... Off we went on our own private island hopping adventure. All went smoothly until we were 5 feet offshore. Marisa splashed her own self and started freaking out. All I could hear were screams about sharks and how not fun this was. All I could see was Marisa furiously paddling and splashing water all over her face, thus freaking herself out, sputtering on the salt water she swallowed, screaming again and repeating the cycle of splashing, screaming and sputtering. After about 10-15 minutes of furious paddling (honestly, I had to swim SOOO fast to keep up), we stood on the pristine white sand with palm trees overhead, and marveled at the fact that we were completely alone in our island paradise. This was the view of the island we swam to from our island:

Ahh yes, what about The Fire God, you might ask? Well, that same night, after swimming back to our island, while Marisa lay in a hammock engrossed in a book, I spent hours gathering firewood and making preparations for the world's largest bonfire. It was so impressive that I vowed to repeat the spectacle the following day. Several days after we had returned to Panama City, we ran into some people that had been on the island with us. They said that they tried to make a fire after we left, but couldn't find any driftwood left to burn. I win!


Capitulo Tres: La Ciudad

"The sun was high overhead, and it was hot as balls... the city lay in ruins around us. We stood alone in the wreckage of a church. Out of nowhere a man approaches us, and tells us not to proceed in the direction we had been traveling... or certain death awaits us."

You know the drill... beep beep beep <---- thats me backing up again!

We were pleasantly surprised with our last 6 days spent exploring Panama City. When you first hit the city, you can feel the influence of the American culture, the old Spanish culture, the Panamanian culture and the layers of history that built the city. We stayed in the old town of Casco Viejo, previously known as a ghetto, but in the midst of a recent renovation and overhaul. It was incredible being in the middle of city that next to ruins of buildings from centuries ago are brand new apartments, renovated, but maintaining the old style. It will be an interesting area to return to in 20 years, where it will probably be unrecognizable.

We also visited the ruins of the first town when the Spanish settled, Panama Viejo. While exploring the ruins of an old convent, some random dude walked up to us and started prattling to us in spanish. We had no idea what he was saying so we started to leave because we assumed we were doing something wrong. Then he informed us we should not venture deeper into the ruins, because the area has had numerous robberies and murders recently. He literally took his hand, formed a gun with his fingers, and put it to my temple to get the point across... some gestures transcend language barriers. I guess we look lost in life. Or maybe we looked too nice. Or maybe he could tell that our brains were like sponges ready to soak up the history of our surroundings. Because after the stern warning, our saviour turned into our tour guide. He then proceeded to walk us around and tell us a history of all the old ruins. We also learned that we had chosen the one day the cathedral (main attraction of the ruins) was closed for cleaning and restoration. As we stood at the gate to the cathedral, I noticed two people sitting under a tree in the midst of the ruins. So I turned to our guide and asked, "What about them, why are they allowed in there?" He didn't even look in the direction I pointed. Simply responded with, "Those are the maintainance crew, their working, their allowed inside." I looked again, there were definitely two white chicks sitting under a tree with a lonely planet book. So I turned back to our guide and said, "No way dude... those aren't workers. Those are white chicks for sure." So as our guide walked in to kick the other girls out, he let us in behind him and we ran up the bell tower. As we ran away, we could hear the other chicks asking, "Hey, why are they allowed to stay? Why don't you kick them out!?" After a quick video moment at the top, we tipped our guide and took off.

The rest of our time was spent on little day trips around the city, checking out the canal and other important tourist destinations. A notable tourist attraction that you won't find in a guidebook roams all over the city...the decked out school buses that serve as "public transportation."

We filled the days with city walks and the evenings hanging out in our hostel with our new friends. Funny enough, all of our island of San Blas was staying in the same hostel, the only place to be in Panama City...Luna's Castle. This place was a trip, built out of an old, creeky colonial mansion, it was 3 stories, had it's own bar where guests could order $.50 beers and even it's own make-shift movie theater. People of note were the Germans and the one Spaniard who we spent most of the next week with and the Frenchy who got me sick. Marisa even learned a few key German phrases, "Hast do einen haufen geisest" ("did you take a poo?") for example.



On our last full day in Panama City we decided to take a ferry to a nearby island and catch some sun before we flew to Miami to fly to Peru. Unfortunately, on the ferry ride over, the sky looked like the apocalypse was coming. See the photo below:
Five minutes before we reached the island it proceeded to pour. We spent our first hour on the island huddled underneath the awning of the dock with the rest of the ferry passengers. Even the people with cars on the island were waiting under the awning for the storm to pass. When the rain finally subsided enough, we sought shelter at a restaurant and waited for the storm to pass. We tried laying out on the beach for about 10 minutes before we realized that it would continue to drizzle just enough to piss us off. The sand was wet enough that it soaked through the bottom of our blanket, the drizzle was just enough that it left us cold and the pages of our books damp, the sun wasn't enough to get a tan, or even keep you warm. In a word, miserable. Some might think, why not just go back to the city. Because we were prisoners on the island. There was one boat that went to the island and it sat there all day until 4:30 when it would take passengers back. We had no choice but to wait. Laying on the beach was a fool's errand. Our first thought was to explore the island, but we ran out of island to explore within 10 minutes. So, in an attempt to escape the gloominess of reality, we sought sunshine in the bottom of a bottle, actually several bottles...of beer. At a nice little restaurant, up in the cliffs, overlooking the ocean, the yachts, and the nasty weather, we drank our last "Panama" beers (really, that's the name of the beer).

Capitulo Quatro: Miami

"El sol estaba alto generales y estabamos de regreso en los Estados Unidos. Que?!"

Well, it turns out that trying to get from Panama into South America is not a cheap endevour. Due to druglords, drugs, guns, and people with drugs and guns, there is no road between Panama and Columbia. And Panama likes it that way because it keeps the guns, drugs and Columbians with drugs and guns, out of Panama. The airlines realize they have a monopoly on the transportation situation and exploit the hell out of it. It was significantly cheaper for us to fly to Miami, then book a flight to Peru, by way of Mexico City, than fly the 3 hours from Panama to Peru. We made lemonade out of those lemons and spent the weekend in Miami Beach, catching up on some news, HGTV, and football, go 9ers, whoop whoop.

Next stop, Lima.

Hasta Luego!

Mikey&Marisa