Aero SurAndesAustriaBoliviaCatedrale de CuscococaCuscoEl Condor PasaLa PazMachu PicchuPaddy's PubPeruSanta CatalinaSimon and GarfunkelSupermanSwitzerland
Peru, Cusco
'Bienvenidos a Cusco', the driver tells us as we leave the airport in Cusco. The flight takes 55 minutes from La Paz, we are finally in Peru, and it´s time to enjoy one of the tourists' hotspots in the world.
The flight on Aero Sur itself is all right - it´s an international flight, which means waiting at the airport for two hours in order to fly just for one. On the descent into Cusco, Axl gets sick, but we get through customs quickly and without a hitch and find ourselves at 3,300 meters altitude, which is where we are in La Paz, more or less. Unlike for most tourists visiting this town, the altitude won't present much of a problem. There is actually a one hour difference between La Paz and Cusco, so we actually gain five minutes or so when we arrive in Peru.
Our hotel, the Torre Dorado, is in a sleepy area of town, but luckily we have a car whenever we need it and will have to make full use of it, as the sights, the main town square, or the Catedrale de Cusco are a fair distance away.
The town itself resembles one of those clean little towns you would find in the mountains in Switzerland or Austria. Everything is impeccably clean, as you would expect from a town that brings in billions of tourist dollars per year. The cathedral and the other large church next to the town square, the Santa Catalina, are picture book, as if they had been cut out of a postcard from somewhere in Spain.
Axl attracts the most attention from the locals, simply because he´s wearing his Superman costume. Hola! Superman, the locals greet him, and Axl, no stranger to gaining a little PR, flexes his muscles for them, clearly enjoying the attention.
We have lunch at Paddy´s Pub, the self-proclaimed highest Irish pub owned by the Irish in the world (La Paz, no doubt, will dispute that). Pictures show in detail the great flood of last year, which cost the town billions of dollars besides a couple of dozen lives. We eat our lunch on old Singer tables - furniture, if you will, that was formerly used for sewing machines. Another plaque depicts Simon and Garfunkel and the origins of their classic song El Condor Pasa.
When I find a public phone to ring up our car, a local quietly passes me and whispers, Coca, which means there are drugs to be had, should the more adventurous tourist wish to consume them without having any fear of South American jails.
A steady shower accompanies us on our way back to the hotel, and merchants are selling everything from coca candy to paintings and other worthless junk, like wooden sculptures and hand knit sweaters. The boys are drinking this all in, seemingly intrigued by this novelty that is Cusco. Although by now they are no strangers to world travel, they, too, will stop occasionally and look at the large monuments and fountains that are such a big part of this town of 400,000 inhabitants.
Conspicuous are the writings in the hills surrounding Cusco. Viva el Peru is written into one mountain, the city´s shield is stamped into another. There appears to be ample pride in this community, something utterly lacking in Bolivia these days. I suppose it helps a bit if there is a consistent income to keep the population happy.
We purchase our admission tickets for tomorrow´s trip to Machu Picchu, which will include a taxi and a train drive to get us to the ancient civilization embedded in the Andes.
So far, so good. The hotel, though lacking the vital location points, has the best service I have ever witnessed anywhere from a hotel staff, and they go out of their way to make us feel at home. It´s almost as if we were staying at a hotel from the 19th century.
Cusco makes an early good impression, but will certainly not compare to tomorrow´s voyage to Machu Picchu.
The flight on Aero Sur itself is all right - it´s an international flight, which means waiting at the airport for two hours in order to fly just for one. On the descent into Cusco, Axl gets sick, but we get through customs quickly and without a hitch and find ourselves at 3,300 meters altitude, which is where we are in La Paz, more or less. Unlike for most tourists visiting this town, the altitude won't present much of a problem. There is actually a one hour difference between La Paz and Cusco, so we actually gain five minutes or so when we arrive in Peru.
Our hotel, the Torre Dorado, is in a sleepy area of town, but luckily we have a car whenever we need it and will have to make full use of it, as the sights, the main town square, or the Catedrale de Cusco are a fair distance away.
The town itself resembles one of those clean little towns you would find in the mountains in Switzerland or Austria. Everything is impeccably clean, as you would expect from a town that brings in billions of tourist dollars per year. The cathedral and the other large church next to the town square, the Santa Catalina, are picture book, as if they had been cut out of a postcard from somewhere in Spain.
Axl attracts the most attention from the locals, simply because he´s wearing his Superman costume. Hola! Superman, the locals greet him, and Axl, no stranger to gaining a little PR, flexes his muscles for them, clearly enjoying the attention.
We have lunch at Paddy´s Pub, the self-proclaimed highest Irish pub owned by the Irish in the world (La Paz, no doubt, will dispute that). Pictures show in detail the great flood of last year, which cost the town billions of dollars besides a couple of dozen lives. We eat our lunch on old Singer tables - furniture, if you will, that was formerly used for sewing machines. Another plaque depicts Simon and Garfunkel and the origins of their classic song El Condor Pasa.
When I find a public phone to ring up our car, a local quietly passes me and whispers, Coca, which means there are drugs to be had, should the more adventurous tourist wish to consume them without having any fear of South American jails.
A steady shower accompanies us on our way back to the hotel, and merchants are selling everything from coca candy to paintings and other worthless junk, like wooden sculptures and hand knit sweaters. The boys are drinking this all in, seemingly intrigued by this novelty that is Cusco. Although by now they are no strangers to world travel, they, too, will stop occasionally and look at the large monuments and fountains that are such a big part of this town of 400,000 inhabitants.
Conspicuous are the writings in the hills surrounding Cusco. Viva el Peru is written into one mountain, the city´s shield is stamped into another. There appears to be ample pride in this community, something utterly lacking in Bolivia these days. I suppose it helps a bit if there is a consistent income to keep the population happy.
We purchase our admission tickets for tomorrow´s trip to Machu Picchu, which will include a taxi and a train drive to get us to the ancient civilization embedded in the Andes.
So far, so good. The hotel, though lacking the vital location points, has the best service I have ever witnessed anywhere from a hotel staff, and they go out of their way to make us feel at home. It´s almost as if we were staying at a hotel from the 19th century.
Cusco makes an early good impression, but will certainly not compare to tomorrow´s voyage to Machu Picchu.
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