Day 81: Lima, Peru

On Monday, Dan and I packed our bags for one last time and flew from Cusco to Lima. We had a red eye out of Lima that night, so we put our bags in storage and spent our final day in South America exploring the capital of Peru. Lima is a massive sprawling city, and though we had heard negative reports about, we both felt it was better than described. 

During the first half of the afternoon, we went to an area called Miraflores, a quaint section of the city that sits on the beach. After getting a late lunch, Dan and I walked to the ocean, where we stayed until sunset. 

Then we went to downtown Lima, where we checked out the central market. The market was huge and seemed to contain anything a person could possibly want. After walking around for a bit, we ended our day with a meal of chifa, a fusion between Peruvian and Chinese cuisine. It tasted almost exactly like American Chinese food, but it was still really good.

And at last here I am. 6 countries, 35 hostels, and 81 days later, the trip has finally drawn to a close. If you had asked me a few months ago if I saw myself traveling around South America, I would have said I would like to, but I cannot imagine it actually happening. Well, it has happened, and I couldn't be happier it did. 

After reflecting upon my trip, I came up with the five things I will miss least and most about my travels...

Top Five Things I Won't Miss:

5. Throwing toilet paper out in waste baskets

4. Taking cold and/or low-pressure showers 

3. Overnight and other long bus rides 

2. South American ineffieciencies (of which there are many)

1. Living out of a backpack

Top Five Things I Will Miss:

5. Amazing outdoor activities 

4. Starting the day in one place and ending it somewhere completely different 

3. South American landscapes

2. Getting to experience different cultures

1. Constantly meeting new people from around the world

We of course had some struggles throughout the trip, but it was still overwhelmingly positive. As cliché as it may sound, I have taken more away from this experience than I could possibly explain. And I'm already looking forward to my next big adventure...

Days 78-80: Cusco, Peru

Dan and I had three more days in Cusco after finishing our Inca Jungle Trek. Our first order of business upon returning to the city was switching hostels. We upgraded from the unkempt, teenage ridden accommodation to one of the best hostels we had stayed in during our entire trip. The place was well-run, had an inviting and open layout, and offered plenty of activities. 

Our Australian friends Shari and Andrew, who we had traveled with throughout Bolivia, had arranged to check into the same hostel as us. After reuniting with them, the four of us went on a free walking tour through Cusco. During the tour, we learned a bit about the city's history, tried some alpaca meat from a local restaurant, got taken to the best vantage point of the city, and learned about the process for making and dyeing alpaca wool.

I also made a new friend while we were walking around...

That night was Halloween. Our hostel was having a party and provided hats and masks for anyone who wanted one. We happily spent the better part of the evening there, and had a great time playing cards, drinking, and talking to our friends. 

The next two days in Cusco passed by really quickly. We spent the majority of our time hanging out with friends, walking around, and checking out the shops and markets. The central market in Cusco was very similar to the ones we had seen in Bolivia. Two exceptions were that there seemed to be a greater abundance and variety of corn in Peru...

...And numerous people were selling large loaves of baby- and horse-shaped bread. The bread was not a typical feature of the market. Instead, it was sold specifically for El Día de Los Muertos, The Day of the Dead, which falls at the beginning of November. We learned that many people believe the souls of the dead will return in the form of a child. Because of this, there is an Andean tradition of buying these baby loaves and eating them at the cemeteries where people's loved ones are buried.

Tonight, for our final evening in Cusco, Dan and I went to dinner at a traditional Peruvian restaurant. I ordered a popular Peruvian steak dish called lomo saltado and Dan opted for an alpaca entree. We are  leaving South America tomorrow night, and during our meal, we spent a bit of time reflecting on the entirety of our trip: our initial concerns, any regrets we had (Dan getting bitten by a stray dog was the only thing on the list), and what it will be like to come back home. It is hard to believe that tomorrow is the final day of our journey, but it's also incredible to think about all we have done over the past three months.

Day 77: Inca Jungle Trek, Peru

Dan and I woke up at 4am on the third and final day of our trek. We got dressed, grabbed our day bags that were packed with snacks, water and other essentials, and headed out. 

From the town of Aguas Calienties, people can get to Machu Picchu by bus or on foot. Our group would be hiking. Dan and I walked 15 minutes outside of town to get to the start of the trail. From there, we hiked up a neverending series of stairs--1,900 to be exact. There were a couple hundred people traveling along this route, and we all shared in each other's pain during the exhausting ascent. One hour and numerous water breaks later, we made it to the entrance of Machu Picchu. It was a great feeling, and we eagerly queued up to get to the Incan ruins. 

Although I had been to this site once before, I found it equally impressive the second time around. Our guide gave us a two hour tour of the legendary palace. Per usual, his explanations were barely intelligible, although we did manage to gather a few interesting tidbits about the ruins. We also mostly focused on taking in the sights on our own. 

After the tour, we sat with a group of our friends beside the ancient palace. We relaxed and talked as we mentally prepared for the next part of our adventure. In addition to buying entrance to the ruins, we had gotten tickets to hike up the adjacent Machu Picchu Mountain. This, of course, was before we knew how grueling the initial morning hike would be. Nevertheless, our group soon made our way up the mountain. It was an endless path of uneven steps that made the earlier trek seem like a beginner's hike. The mountain had double the amount of stairs and took twice as long as the trip to Machu Picchu. The closer we got to the summit, the steeper the steps became. 

We were completely drained by the time we arrived at the peak, but all agreed it was absolutely worth it. We had a 360 degree view of the beautiful landscape, and sat along the mountain's edge enjoying the scenery.

Eventually, it was time to go. Dan and I climbed down the over 5,000 steps to get back to Aguas Calientes. I was struggling so much by the end of our descent that Dan had to carry me for a little bit on his back. Before long, we had collapsed into our seats on the train back to Cusco. Our legs were absolutely wrecked from the day, and would continue to hurt for at least three days after (I'm still waiting for the pain to subside), but the amazing hike and breathtaking views made it all worthwhile.

Day 76: Inca Jungle Trek, Peru

The second day of our Machu Picchu trek was riddled with nearly as many problems as the first. It began with a long delay in a ziplining office, as the company overstretched themselves and did not have enough harnesses for everyone. For some reason, certain groups seemed to be given preferential treatment, so we were forced to wait over an hour for other groups to return with their harnesses. That being said, the ziplining was a lot of fun, and we got to fly hundreds of meters back and forth across a valley.

After ziplining, we drove to a town where we had lunch that included, of course, rice and fries. We then began our walk along a set of train tracks. 

This flat path was not exactly the scenic trek we had been promised. But we made the most of it and enjoyed the chance to get to know the other members of our group. One of our new friends, we learned, would be taken advantage of her time in Peru to go on a spiritual ayahuasca trip over the weekend. She would be traveling to the Sacred Valley, where a Shaman, or leader, would be guiding the group in the 6 hour hallucinogenic awakening. It was interesting to hear about, and we told her she had to contact us after the experience and let us know how it went. 

Our group walked along the tracks for about three hours. On occasion, we did get some great views of the area.

During the walk, despite our bug spray, we were assaulted by numerous mosquitoes. These little pests only added to the colorful appearance of my Death Road-bruised legs, which looked as battered as my preteen camper days.

It was around 5 o'clock when we made it to Aguas Calientes, the town that sits just below Machu Picchu. By that point, Dan and I had already cemented our belief that the entire trek was a scam. We were given minimal to no explanation every step of the way. On top of that, the itinerary felt like a mishmosh of activities strung together to appease gringos, and lacking both efficiency and practicality. They must want to ride...lets throw them on a bike for an hour! And they definitely want to hike...why not just follow the path of the train? The activities were not actually designed as a step-by-step journey on the road to Machu Picchu, as was advertised. 

Dan and I were thrown into a different, and clearly cheaper, hostel than everyone else. By that point, we saw it as a simple matter of course. We relaxed a little bit before meeting with our guide to ask him about the plan for the following day. We learned we would begin our trek at 4:30am in order to beat all the other tourists to the entrance of Machu Picchu. He talked a bit more about the plan for the day, of which we understood little. One thing that we did pick up on was the fact that we would be taking a 9:30pm train, followed by a bus to get back to Cusco around 1:30am. Wait, what time? As beautiful as Machu Picchu may be, nobody needs to spend over 16 hours there, never mind the fact that we had been told we would be getting back to Cusco much earlier. We told our guide we would be willing to pay a little extra to get on an earlier train, and after sorting out that issue, joined our group for dinner. The meal was accompanied with the omnipresent sides of rice and fries.

After dinner, we went with a few people from our group to get some pisco sours, and then went to bed early to prepare for our pre-sunrise wake up.

Day 75: Inca Jungle Trek, Peru

Dan and I were up and waiting in our hostel at 7:20 on Tuesday morning to begin a three-day trek to Machu Picchu. The most popular trek to the ruins is the Inca Trail, but we discovered too late that we would have had to book that excursion months in advance. After exploring the available options, we settled on the Inca Jungle Trek, which offered a lot of activities in a short span of time. The trek could be done over a three or four day period, and we elected the three day journey.

A half hour after the pick-up time, we were still waiting at our hostel. We had grown accustomed to South American timing, so we were not at all surprised by the delay. Yet we wouldn't exactly have minded the extra sleep. Finally, just shy of 8am, a man frantically hustled into the hostel, apologizing for his timing and asking us to follow him. The man walked us a few blocks to a waiting van. As we neared the vehicle, we could see that it was already full of other trekkers. The man seemed to notice this problem, too, so instead he whistled for a cab. He then hopped in the front of the taxi and told me and Dan to get in the back. At no point was anything explained to us. This would be the first of many problems in the days to come.

Five minutes later, we pulled up next to another van. This one had two open seats, so Dan and I got inside and the man drove away. Everyone sat in the parked van for about an hour as a few people, who seemed to have all the time in the world, slowly loaded the vehicle with biking equipment and other supplies. 

Eventually, we took off. At that point, we still received little information on who our guide was, exactly where we were going, or how long it would take. All I knew was that we would start making our way to Machu Picchu  by bike on the first day of the trip (I had reluctantly agreed to this after my previous biking mishap, but was more hopeful this time because we would be riding on paved roads).

After driving for a few hours, we got out of the van, formally met our guide, and began to ride. It was a chilly, foggy day and the roads had many sharp turns, but after Death Road, the biking was a breeze. And despite the haze, we did get some good views of the surrounding area.

 Unfortunately, about an hour into the ride, it began to downpour. I willed myself on even though I was shivering to the bone. The rain eventually let up, but not after my clothes and boots were soaked through. Soonafter, we got another surprise. There had been a major landfall a few days before, and just as we arrived at the site of the incident, the road was temporarily blocked off to clear the debris. We had to wait an hour and a half in our wet clothes before they finally let us pass through. We then road for a short while longer before the guides stopped us at an arbitrary point, loaded the bikes on the van, and drove us for another hour. It was during this drive that dan and I learned we were the only people in the van who were doing the three day trek (everyone else was doing four days). We alerted our guide of this, who seemed to not have known, but assured us it wouldn't be a problem. 

Because of the road delay, our group ended up having lunch at around 5pm in the village of Santa Maria. We were given grilled chicken with a side of, surprise!, rice and fries. After eating, our guide told me and Dan to grab our belongings because we would be joining up with a different group for the remainder of our trek. We said goodbye to our temporary group and then followed the guide through the village. He took us to a taxi and spoke to the driver to inform him of where we were going. Then, he gave Dan an envelope that read "Rene," and instructed us to give the envelope to the man who would be our new guide.

Dan and I sat waiting in the taxi for about thirty minutes. All of a sudden, a woman opened the door and came next to me in the car. She then asked me to slide over--mind you there were already three of us in the back--and a fourth person slid in. Another woman and her baby then filed into the front passenger seat, and finally, the driver sat down. Our seven person clown car then road off to the nearby town of Santa Teresa. It was already quite dark at this point, which was probably a good thing, because it made it more difficult to see the steep cliff that was barely masked by the jungle foliage. The forty minute trip felt like a Disney ride, where the vehicle makes a sharp turn just before teasing the passengers with a drop-off. I nearly left marks in Dan's thigh from clawing at it as we drove along the narrow, rocky road.

Luckily, we made it to our destination intact. We were then ushered to our hostel, where the hostel owner, puzzled by our presence, eventually gave us a room. It turned out that Rene and his group were not yet back from going to the nearby hot springs (which we didn't have time to do because of the road delay). As Dan and I sat and talked in our room, I heard someone call my name from the hallway. Confused, I poked my head outside. It turned out, it was our friends Chloe and Sarah who we had now run into in four different locations! They were in the room next door, and had heard our voices through the wall. It was a small, but welcome treat after a long and troubling day. 

We only got to catch up with Chloe and Sarah for a short while before their group went off to dinner. We were left to wait for our new tour group to arrive, so decided to get some pisco sours near our hostel. Just as our two friends were returning from their dinner, our group finally arrived. Our new tour guide, Rene, did not seem to be expecting us. Yet he meshed us in with his own group who we met over dinner. It was an interesting mix of people, and unlike the typical tour groups, included a family of four. We got to know everyone a little bit over dinner, where we had meat with--wait for it--rice and fries. We then went back to our hostel, where Dan and I commiserated over our bizarre and frustrating day.

Day 74: Cusco, Peru

Dan, Stefano, and I took a night bus from Bolivia and arrived in Cusco, Peru at the disturbingly early hour of 4am. We were all extremely disoriented as we exited the bus, grabbed our bags, and made our way into two separate cabs. Dan and I asked the driver to take us to a hostel we had attempted to contact the day before; we knew we would be arriving at an odd hour, and drove there hoping we could check in to a room right away. It turned out that despite what the hostel had told us, there wasno availability. At that point, our cab driver told us he knew of a great, "economical" hostel that would put us in a room on the spot. We were too tired to object, so agreed to take him up on his offer.

It wasn't a huge surprise that the hostel he took us to was pretty bad. But all we wanted was to get back to sleep, so we put our bags in the room and passed out. A few hours later, we were woken up by the shouts of teenagers. We later found out that the hostel was mostly filled with rowdy Peruvian high school students on a weeklong vacation. Suffice it to say we spent as little time in the building as possible. 

Once we were up, we ventured out into the city of Cusco. I went to Peru a few years ago with my family, so I was eager to revisit the area with fresh eyes. Cusco is a charming city with lots of well-groomed plazas and stone-paved streets. One thing that surprised me as we walked around was how many other tourists there were. It hadn't occurred to me on my prior trip, but having been to so many other places in South America, I was now well-aware of just how much of a tourist destination this town was. It was clear that the restaurants catered to foreigners; nearly everyone in the town center was hunting down gringos to sell them something; and, whereas in Bolivia the women dressed in a certain style out of custom, in Cusco, many seemed to dress that way for profit (as in, "come take a picture with a traditional Peruvian!"). Even still, we enjoyed walking around and looking at the buildings and landscape.

Overall, our first day in Cusco was pretty uneventful. In the afternoon, we booked a three-day trek to Machu Picchu that was due to begin the following morning. We also had one last dinner with our friend, Stefano, before our itineraries would set us on different paths (fortunately, he is due to visit New York in November, so we will get to see him once we are back home). Dan and Stefano both got alpaca for dinner, and I opted for a less intimidating chicken-based entrée. All three of our dishes came with a side of rice and fries, which we would soon become all-too-familiar with. After our meal, Dan and I went back to our hostel and packed small bags in preparation for our three day excursion.

Day 73: Copacabana, Bolivia

Early Sunday morning, Dan and I headed to Cusco with our friend Stefano. The trip required a stopover, so we chose to spend our day in Copacabana. Before we could get there, we had to exit the bus so we, and the bus, could separately cross over a body of water.

We then got back aboard the busand made our way to Copacababana. This tiny town sits along the enormous and beautiful Lake Titicaca. Because of the look and feel of the area, we all felt as though we were in a beach community.

Shortly after arriving, the three of us took advantage of the weather by renting a swan-shaped boat to take out on the lake. I entrusted the paddling to they boys while I enjoyed my view from the back seat.

Afterward, we went to a rooftop restaurant for lunch where we spent the next few hours eating, drinking, and enjoying the beautiful weather. Once we had our fill of the sun, we went into a cafe to drink some coffee and watch a bit of football. The guys wanted to go on a short hike after that, but I was so beat up from biking the day before that I opted to stay put. It worked out well for everyone...they got amazing panaramic views of Copacababana and I was gifted with a rare opportunity to watch the Steelers play (and crush their opponents).

 It was a nice relaxing day, and by 6:30, we were back on a bus that took us out of Bolivia and into the last country we would be traveling to: Peru.

Days 70-71: La Paz, Bolivia

Dan and I opted to take a speedy 40 minute flight (rather than the 12 hour bus ride) from Sucrez to La Paz on Thursday evening. From the air, it looked like Bolivia's capital city sat atop a steep plateau. 

After landing in what we later learned is the highest airport in the world, we took a taxi to our hotel. 

As we drove through the city, we could see that the city had a harmonious chaos to it; the people, streets, and even telephone wires seemed to flow in every direction. 

Surprisingly, it took us longer to get from the airport to our hotel than from Sucre to La Paz. Our first night in the city, we had a quiet dinner, then took advantage of the fact that we had upgraded ourselves to a hotel by lounging in our room for the evening.

-----

The following day, we met back up with our Italian friend, Stefano, and our Australian friends, Shari and Andrew. Together, we walked through the streets of the city. First, we went to a "witch" market, where many unusual odds and ends could be found. One constant piece of merchandise was llama fetuses. We were told they are often used as sacrificial offerings when new buildings are constructed. Even if a contractor doesn't feel the need to do this, the people working for him often believe in this ritual, and might refuse to work if he doesn't give this sacrifice.

After our trip through that market, we went to get lunch in a "mall." In reality, it was an unusual labyrinth of walkways with dozens of mini restaurants that looked like they were situated behind garage doors. As we walked passed each entrance, the female cooks would try to lure us in to eat their food. The spaces were so tiny that it took us a while to find one that could house all five of us. Finally, we sat down to a two-course meal (soup and entree of choice) for the equivalent of two US dollars. If it wasn't already clear, Bolivia is kind of a cheap country.

Once we finished lunch, We signed up for a bike excursion for the following day. Then, we walked through more food and clothing markets, which, once again, were all run by women; we never managed to solve the mystery of what the men did all day. 

At night, our group met up for dinner at a Cuban restaurant that had live music. While there, we even managed to coax Stefano into playing a few songs for the crowd. After dinner, we retreated home to prepare for our big adventure that would begin the next morning.

Day 72: La Paz, Bolivia

At 7:30 on Saturday morning, Dan and I met up with our friends and 12 other people to go on a bike trip. This wasn't just a typical bike outing...we would be riding on what has been labeled the world's most dangerous road: Yungas Road, or more commonly, Death Road. This 64 kilometer muddy, rocky route winds through large hillsides and sits along steep cliffs. The narrowness of the road, combined with the absence of guardrails, has caused it to be the source of many accidents over the years. It has also made the road a popular tourist attraction. 

Ask me to skydive from 15,000 feet or hike 5 hours up a volcano, and I won't bat an eyelash. But bike riding under even the best conditions makes me uneasy. Needless to say, I was not overeager about the outing. Nevertheless, I found myself near the start of the path, putting on my gear and being assigned a bike along with everyone else. With dual suspension, the bikes were of great quality. But that only eased my nerves so much.      

Our group gathered with our bikes in a large circle as our guide explained numerous rules and tips for the ride: stay on the left side unless the road is narrow, pull over for passing vehicles, be sure to slow down prior to reaching sharp turns, etc. After a lengthy talk, he told us that because we would be riding on Pachamama, Mother Earth, we needed to show our appreciation. He took out a bottle with a liquid akin to rubbing alcohol, and instructed each of us to pour a little on our front wheel, a little on the ground, and then a little in our mouth. We passed the bottle from person to person, each wincing when it was our turn to take a swig of the vile liquid. Then, finally, it was time to ride.

The first leg of the ride was on a perfectly paved, wide road, and was meant to help us get comfortable on the bikes. The ride was really nice, and helped me ease my nerves a little bit. However, it wasn't long before we reached the start of the real Death Road. It was all downhill with steep cliffs and many bumps. At some points, the road was barely wider than the width of a small car. Even still, it was an incredible feeling to ride along. The landscape, when I dared to look up from the rocky ground, was beautiful. 

Small portion of Death Road

We stopped several times to look at the views. The guides captured the entire day on camera, but unfortunately only told us after the ride that we would have to wait two days before we could retrieve the CDs with pictures. We would already be out of La Paz at that point, so upsettingly, we didn't have much footage of the day.  We started the day in many layers because the weather was very cold at the high altitude. However, the climate quickly changed as we descended toward the rainforest. So it wasn't long before we had shed some clothing. Ironically, just after many of us had taken off our outer layers, it began to pour. The heavy rain made the ride scarier, but also felt surprisingly nice. 

At no point along the ride did I feel entirely confident. The roads were narrow and rocky and the drop-off was intimidating. The speed at which everyone was going only added to my uncertainty. So, it was only inevitable that at the brief moment I took my hand from the grip to adjust my sunglasses, I lost my balance and went down with my bike. I recovered quickly, but not before picking up some painful scratches and bruises.

After several hours, we made it to the end. Despite my injury, I was really happy we had done the ride. And Dan, who is a much more avid biker, loved the whole experience. We finished the day with a big lunch and a viewing of the pictures and videos the guides had taken. They also showed us some disturbing videos of past accidents along Death Road; at least they waited until the end, I guess.

It took us several hours to drive back to the center of La Paz. By that point, we were all drained, so we had a low-key dinner before calling an end to one of the more memorable days of our trip.

 

Day 66: Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

Our tour group woke up at 4:30am on the final day of our excursion in order to make it in time for sunrise over the salt flats. The electricity was not turned on yet, so we had to get ready by candlelight. By 5am, the trucks were packed and we were ready to go. It was still very dark outside, so we had an incredible view of the starlit sky.

It took a little over an hour to get to the Uyuni salt flats, a stretch of flat land that is composed of dry salt. At 10,000+ square-kilometers, it is the largest salt flat in the world. We arrived amid the white landscape just as dawn was breaking, and took in the surreal scenery that refused to be properly captured on camera.

After sunrise, we drove a little farther to "Fish Island," a beautiful, though oddly placed island of fossilized coral that was covered in 1,000-year old cacti.

After Fish Island, we continued to drive through the salt flats. We got out after another hour of driving in order to stretch out our legs and take some pictures. Because of the uniform landscape, the salt flats made for a perfect venue to create fun illusions on camera. It was often hard to get the picture just right, but Dan and I tried our best...

Once we all finished taking pictures, Juan led us in a game in the salt flats. One person would be blindfolded at a time, and would then walk about 100 meters through the salt to the parked trucks. Initially, we didn't really understand the game, but I agreed to go first. As soon as I began walking, my senses became disoriented by the total blackness and by the continual crunch of salt underfoot. I walked for what felt like awhile before the group finally yelled for me to stop. I took off my blindfold to find myself about 10 meters to the left of the trucks. Juan told me I did really well, which I only understood after watching several other people go. Our group cracked up as one person after another ended up traveling in circles or odd zig zags, far from the intended endpoint.

After everyone had a chance at reaching the trucks, we got back into the vehicles. From there, we drove into a small town where we had lunch and got to see a "train cemetery" filled with old steam locomotives.

Our tour ended shortly thereafter in the town of Uyuni. There, we said goodbye to our guide, Juan, and a few of our new friends who were traveling in different directions from us. Then, we bought bus tickets with the Australian couple, German couple, and our Italian friend. All of us had heard that there wasn't that much to do in Uyuni, so we decided to end our day in a town called Potosi instead.

We arrived in Potosi late at night, so were not able to get a sense of what the area was like. Instead, we all checked into the same hostel and then ventured off together for a late dinner.

Days 67-70: Potosi & Sucre, Bolivia

The original purpose for our stopover in Potosí was to take a tour of a silver mine. Potosí has thousands of mines tapping into its vast supply of unclaimed silver. However, we ultimately decided against the trip. Potosí is the highest city in the world. So the altitude was already putting our bodies through enough strain, without the added features of cramped space and limited air supply.

Instead, we booked a midday bus to a different town, and spent the morning walking around Potosí. One of the first things I noticed upon walking around was the Bolivian dress. While most of the youth wore outfits mirroring our own, the older generation, particularly the women, donned more traditional garb, including: wide-brimmed or bowler hats (which I later learned, can be positioned in different ways to signify marital status), braided hair, brightly colored shawls, long skirts, and often, belongings or babies on back.

This clothing could be seen everywhere throughout town, especially in the central market. There, we had a fun time walking around and looking at the brightly colored stands with impressive selections.

Pastas Galore

Bolivian Salad Bar--my friend and I ended up getting bagged salads for lunch; they were amazingly fresh, and for 6 items, a costly 1.50usd

After waking around for a couple hours, it was finally time to head to the bus station. There, we encountered one of the most confusing, chaotic systems I have ever seen. The terminal had two levels, and from the outer balcony of the top level, dozens of women shouted unintelligible phrases. We figured out that this was probably their way of announcing arrivals and departures, but it did not help much. Eventually we found our bus, but not before nearly missing it. The seven of us--me, Dan, the Australian couple, the German couple, and the Italian--ended up running with our belongings to get to the bus just before it left the terminal. 

A couple of hours later, we were in Sucre. It was a more built up city than Potosí, yet still had a charm because of the predominately whitewashed buildings and narrow streets. 

Our small clan walked through town to our hostel, which had apartment style rooms, fully equipped with a kitchen and living room for the steep price of $13 per person per night. We decided to take advantage of the facilities by cooking dinner together in one of the apartments that evening. Stefano, our Italian friend, was staying at a different hostel but promised to rejoin us to help prepare something special. So an hour after checking in, we all met up in front of a supermarket to get the ingredients. The supermarket had an unimpressive selection, though, so we decided to try our luck at the central market instead. 

There, we were overwhelmed by the amazing variety of food. Because it was getting late, we only explored the produce section, but were still awed by the quantity and quality of the fruits and vegetables. We got what we needed and made a plan to return the following day in order to better explore the market. Upon returning to the hostel, we began making dinner. The star of the meal was to be homemade gnocchi from our very own Italian. It was fun to watch him prepare the dish; he had clearly done it several times before and made it look easy.

 

One of our friends made guacamole and chips as a starter. Dan also contributed by making a vegetable dish, which Stefano, in true Italian fashion, insisted must be served after the pasta. By 9, we were all sitting down like a mini family, eating good food, drinking wine, and talking. It was nice to be with the same group we had spent the past few days with because the conversation went much deeper than the usual "where are you from?" and "where have you been traveling?"

Giant avocado for guacamole

Giant papaya for dessert

The rest of our time in Sucre passed in a consistent, but pleasant manner. We cooked breakfast together, walked around town, spent a lot of time at the food and clothing markets, and then cooked or went out to dinner together. 

More about the central market... Spanning three levels and several blocks, it was one of the most impressive displays of food I have ever seen. There were numerous sections, each with nearly identical offerings as the adjacent counters: meats, fruits, vegetables, pastas, cheese, desserts, spices, nuts, and even stands devoted solely to items like eggs or avocados. Interestingly, nearly all of the stands (including the meat counters) were run by women, who were either sitting or standing next to their fare. 

Illegally taken photo of cow heads

On top of all this, a section of the market was allocated to serving lunch. Again, each stand mirrored the previous, with old women attempting to lure potential patrons to eat their food. They would then provide a heaping plate of the selected entree for the equivalent of two US dollars. We ate there twice, and I must say, the food was much better than I had expected.

Our last night in Sucre, we had one final dinner with our friends and made tentative plans to reconnect once we were all in La Paz (we would all be heading there at different times over the coming days). During our final day, Dan and I went to an excavation site. There, we were able to see dinosaur fossils and footprints that were over 60 million years old. It was amazing to see how well preserved the footprints were, and Dan had fun getting up close to them.

That afternoon, we said goodbye to Sucre and headed on to the next stop on our journey.