Flying to Cusco

The flight from Lima was relaxing and beautiful. Almost immediately, we were in the clouds, but after traveling east for no more than 10 minutes the clouds were no more and we were passing over increasingly large ranges of mountains. The thing that struck me most was that these steep and remote mountains were covered with roads. Well defined dirt roads switchbacked time and time again up impossibly steep slopes, down the other side, and back up the next.

I wondered what these roads could possibly be used for, but soon found the answer when villages and towns began appearing at the ends of the roads. As the plane continued east toward Cusco, the towns increased in size and I spotted large trucks making their way slowly over the precarious mountain roads.

The mountains continued to rise, making it feel like we were descending long before we actually were.

Eventually, we did begin our brief descent, but by this time we didn't have far to fall. Cusco loomed before us, large and well populated, but to me it felt like we were crashing into the mountains. We had a very smooth landing at the world's highest international airport.

As I stepped down the stairs at the rear of the plane, I noticed something strange: colors lept out, and I could see clearly for miles in any direction. I spent the first day in Lima cursing myself for never getting corrective lenses for my slight astigmatism. I couldn't see anything very well, and blamed my eyes and the stress of traveling. Now it was clear that the thick, everpresent smoke and seasonal fog in Lima were to blame. I haven't seen atmosphere so clear and bright anywhere, except perhaps Kuaii.

I felt a strange weakness and light-headedness shortly after disembarkation, but this is perfectly natural when you've gone from sea level to almost 11,000 feet in one hour. Upon getting to the main plaza in Cusco, I stopped at a restaurant and had a cup of coca tea (not only legal here, but traditional and highly recommended; no, it won't get you high), and within minutes any trace of physical uncertainty was cleared up.

After eating and finishing my tea, I made my way to a hostel that was recommended in my guide book, and was pleased to find that I was given a triple-occupancy room with a bath all to myself. The room has breathtaking views of the Plaza de Armas and most of the surrounding hills, all for the lowest price I've ever paid for a hotel room.

Cusco has tourist prices for almost everything. I almost balked at paying the restaurant prices around the plaza, until I did the exchange rate and realized that I have spent more at a Taco Bell than I was paying for a meal in a balcony seat overlooking the main town square (with live Andean music and a drink included in the price). I soon noticed a crowd forming in the square below, and witnessed a procession of a life sized Mary, followed by a marching band. Roman candles were fired over the crowd, which must have numbered a thousand or more people, and for hours giant firecrackers boomed and echoed between the mountains. I learned that 200 nights a year are like this in Cusco.