ANOTHER BUS ADVENTURE, THE PERUVIAN TRAVELLER AND A PERUVIAN HOTEL UPGRADE – PERU 2004 PART IV

We had just finished a whirlwind few days, zipping around Northern, Peru, and seeing whatever sights that area held for us. Notwithstanding my scepticism, I must say that I was completely amazed at what we encountered there. Needless to say, only a fool would enter Peru for his 5th time and not expect to see something amazing. I don’t think there is 1 acre of this country that you could find boring, or that wouldn’t present some amazing historical site to look at. Ol’ Bubbaloo and I have travelled to nearly every corner of this magnificent country. And too be sure, we were never once bored, but were always amazed, with some mystical site laid out before us. That being said, the North of Peru was no different and we only scratched the surface.

As usual, Ol’ Bubbaloo had a full travel program laid out for us. It did not include any time for laying around and smelling the roses. Having finished with our look at the Trujillo and Chiclayo areas, we all hopped aboard an Ormeno Bus Lines coach for Lima. Our vacation was just getting started at this point. We still had many adventures remaining. The bus ride back to Lima presented some tense moments. At that time in Peru, there happened to be a spate of robberies of people riding the highways. It seemed like all too often, buses were stopped by armed “cucarachas”. At that point, the passengers were robbed of their possessions. The robbers came in packs, like rabid dogs and took everything.

Both Bubbaloo and Lupe were always security conscious. They knew their own country, and the part of it who would rather steal than work. Without exception, safety and security issues were checked and double checked by both Peruvians. Therefore, with an understanding of the risks of highway travel, they searched out and found a bus line that guaranteed, direct service to Lima with no stops along the way. This service cost a premium, which we were all willing to pay. As usual, it seemed like every long distance bus, we ever rode in Peru, left from wherever we were, late at night. This trip was no exception. Tired and grouchy, but armed with our “snacks” we boarded at night for a straight shot into Lima.

Once again, before boarding, the girls confirmed that this bus would travel straight into Lima without any stops along the way. They even took our picture, at boarding, to make sure, only, we got on the bus. I thought , “why a picture if it was a direct trip to Lima?” And of course, we had barely made an hour on the road, when suddenly our bus gives out a shudder and trembles to a stop in a small town. I guess what we weren’t aware of is, that this bus, much like an ocean going vessel, was under the complete control of the captain (bus driver) once it was on the road. Because our bus was not full, he had decided to pull in to a town and pick up some additional passengers.

I am 100% confident that anything he charged the new passengers went directly to his pocket. People standing on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, were not looking for a “premium price” ride to Lima. He was apparently going against company rules to stop en-route. However, he did not act as if this was unacceptable or threatening to his job. I believe it was a pretty common practise. And if you think about it, what choice did the passengers have. You either accepted whatever the driver decided to do, or got down from the bus, and hitched another ride from the side of the road, in the middle of the night. Bubbaloo tells me this was not the only, unscheduled stop he made, while I slept. Each time, exposing us to danger.

Now I’m not saying we went passively in accepting this change to our security. The driver may have pocketed himself a few extra soles for this stop. Not however, without a major tongue lashing and a crap storm of verbal abuse from our leaders. They were all over him, and the on board “steward”, the moment our bus stopped. I don’t know how many, of you, have been “chewed out” by a Peruvian, but I can tell you, it is not fun. Not only that, there were others, that had also paid a premium, for a direct ride into Lima, that were no less happy or vocal than our Peruvians were. Boy were they pissed. I hunkered down in my seat and faked sleep until the crap storm passed.

I guess the only other incident of note, was the inevitable, overwhelmed, onboard bathroom. Like any bus ride, we have ever taken in Peru, the owner had extolled the virtues of their clean and modern bus with high standard modern facilities for its patrons. Each and every time we rode a bus, we also paid a premium price to ensure these facilities. We all knew that we would not be far down the road, before one of the children needed to “go”. And indeed, as each trip started, the washroom facilities were good. That inevitably lasted about 30 minutes. It seemed as if everyone on board, needed to try out, what they had paid for, within the first few minutes of the journey.

Invariably, not long after boarding, and always before I had a need to “go”, their clean facility had been transformed, into a wet, stinking, paper strewn, sloshing mess of crap. My god, I often thought, do these things carry no more than a gallon of water? All of which, was all used up by the first person? And, can’t people throw the toilette paper into the toilet or, at least , into the garbage can provided? I can guarantee that within 30 minutes of leaving on each bus trip, there was no way, that, you would ever dream of entering the toilet ever again! So, as in all of our previous and future Peruvian bus trips, we rode along carrying a stinking, sloshing, wet, and nasty pile of crap along with us in the back of the bus. Geezus!

We finally arrive in Lima . The bus dropped us in time for a breakfast, and then into to the airport queue, for a quick hop to Cusco. Of course, we could not miss a look at Machu Picchu. When I think back on our travel itineraries now, I am amazed at just how much we crammed in to each and every trip. Each time, until the point where we arrived in Bubbaloo’s hometown, Arequipa, we were on a constant move. Only, when we arrived to the family home, did we ever set our bags down and unpack our socks. This trip was no exception. Before I knew it, we were in a queue waiting for a flight high into the Andes. It was in this lineup that the true nature of the Peruvian psyche became clear.

It was fairly early in the morning, let’s say 8:30, and I was patiently waiting my turn at the check-in. In that moment a loud shouting and an angry voice was heard. I sidled a little closer, to see what the action was. Apparently, what had happened was that a Peruvian man, looked like an older farming type, was in a heated argument with a ticket agent. It appeared that when he went to check-in, his plane was already, well on its’ way to Cusco. Boy, was he pissed! I am not sure that I have ever seen such righteous indignation on a person in my life. He was demanding to know how his plane could leave, when he was not yet at the airport. After all, he had a ticket, didn’t he?

How could they not wait for him? He had bought the ticket! SO THEY MUST KNOW, he needed to go to Cusco. They must have known that he would arrive to the airport at some point, HE HAD A TICKET! DIDN’T HE? The fact that they did not wait for him really, really, got his “juices” flowing. There was a young lady, at the counter, patiently trying to explain to him the rules of modern travel. She is obviously in a losing battle. Nothing is going to overcome the righteous indignation of this wounded Peruvian. His national pride as well as his honour had been insulted. He demanded that they bring his plane back to get him. And he wanted it now!

In those days the airlines’ staff were a lot more sympathetic and understanding. Today’s airlines personnel would just call security, and throw your ass out of the airport. In any event, I don’t think they brought his plane back. And I did not see him board ours, with us. But, hey, maybe they did get a plane to take him, by himself, to Cusco. After all, he did have a ticket! Somehow, I doubt that, though. If there is any good resulting from that lesson, it might be that he finally realized what clocks were for. I felt some sympathy for him, but also got a few minutes of laughter from it. How many times in my life had I tried to explain to my Peruvian family, the significance of being on time. Did I ever win? Nope, not once!

We did, however, board our plane and shortly thereafter landed in Cusco. It was the land of my dreams. In some ways, every time we landed in Cusco, I somehow felt that I had arrived home. Before I jump right into my usual descriptions of Machu Picchu, I will skip ahead a few hours to our hotel. The girls had booked an “economy” type hotel in downtown Cusco. It looked quite good from the outside. The one across the street looked a few grades better, but apparently it was a little expensive. I had no problem with this, but did catch Bubbaloo and Lupe, casting wistful glances out across the street, as we checked in. Our rooms were Spartan, but appeared acceptable………

All seemed to be OK, albeit not 5 star. Once again, we had managed to find a room with a shower curtain that stopped four inches from the floor. Turn on the shower and you were at risk of being flooded out. I never did manage to figure out how to have a shower without creating a pond on the floor. The girls were Peruvian, but I believe they also struggled with that concept. I never have figured out whether the shower curtains were too short. Or, the curtain rod hung too high on the wall. Or perhaps the constructor had forgot to put the shower drain under the shower, but instead had installed it in the middle of the room.

A couple other things, about our rooms, come to mind. For example, the bed had ONE well worn sheet on it. This sheet had been ridden so many times, that it was translucent. The ONE thin blanket was, to say the least, threadbare. To get to the bed, you had to walk around the pond, created by the shower. It was cold as hell in the room. Once again, we had to unpack our warmest clothes and pile them on the bed. The pillows were a special treat. They were about the size and softness of an empty “potato” storage bag! There was a heater that banged and clanked and whined, but did not give out heat……..

All of this I could deal with. So, I tried to find a soft spot to sleep on. Not so the girls. They were now pissed. Our leaders made a few trips down to the lobby to try and find some comfort. They were offered a new room. It wasn’t any better, just in a different location. Uncle J and I tried to stay strong and point out all the good things about our quarters. That did not make things better. I finally got to sleep, but sometime around midnight I was awakened. Bubblaloo is packing bags and making quite a lot of noise. “Get up”, she says, “pack your stuff, we are moving!” I’m a little groggy, but think, maybe she has arranged for a room upgrade. So, in a daze, I start putting my stuff together……….

Quick, she says, “bring everything down to the lobby.” I’m still half asleep, but do as I’m told. Half dressed and dragging our bags, I enter the lobby. Just in time to see Lupe and Uncle J, with the boys in tow, dragging a dozen or so, partially packed bags, out the door. They are heading straight across for the, previously, too expensive, newer hotel. The desk clerk is impassively looking at me. He gives me the impression, that he has been in this rodeo before. I’m going to say, he doesn’t look too surprised or concerned, watching this exodus from his hotel. And there we go, like a parade from Huambo. With everyone going in a different direction, with different uniforms and carrying different instruments. We straggled across the street and into the lobby of a new hotel. Aaaaahhh, sleep at last!

Now that is what I call a Peruvian Hotel upgrade. Ol’ Bubbaloo ungraded our butts right out of one hotel, across a street and right into another. All this in the middle of the night. I must have been a sight, dragging our, half dozen bags, half dressed, half awake and wondering how what in hell had just happened. At that point in my life, I was so used to chaos, that I never really questioned why. I do remember, though, pitching myself into a new bed and then laying there 100% wide awake, thinking, “is this normal, does everyone do this”?

Wow, I have just surfaced for air and realize that I have written a long diatribe about, really, nothing. I had intended to get us from Trujillo, up into the Andes and over to Machu Picchu in a few short sentences. You will have to wait for the Machu Picchu part. I am exhausted. However, now that I have spilled something to paper, I need to go with it. Therefore, for the time being I will cease writing, and publish these small incidents, that all add up to make a great adventure and fond memories. This part of our trip was less than a day long, however, it provided me with a few chuckles from these earlier times. That is the poet in me. No history lesson in this one. I will return soon with more year 2004 travel memories. Bet you can’t wait, right?