Hello, hello! Welcome to the first installment of my very first blog. To bring you all up to speed, I am turning 30 on July 7th, 2007. Rather than sit home and bemoan my fate, I decided to pack my bag and head off to Peru. After all, if I can do a four-day hike at over 11,000 feet above sea level, then I can't possibly be old!
I left for the airport in San Francisco at 5:30am on June 27th. I then spent the next 24 hours in transit. The highlight was the trip from LAX to Lima International. My seatmate was a recently legalized immigrant from Brasil who wanted to tell me her entire life story. This included her separation from her two children since coming the the US 7 years ago; her experiences as an illegal immigrant; her attempted suicide of 2 years ago; and her recent marriage to an American and acquisition of a green card. Harrowing! Not exactly the cheeriest seatmate.
In Lima, there were a group of about 20 of us gringos who landed at 12am and were scheduled to fly out to Cusco for Machu Picchu in the morning. The airport security wouldn't let us into the gate area, they were cleaning? so, we all scattered to various corners and snoozed in our sleeping bags until morning. Considering that people flock to Cusco every day, I had a sudden thought that the airport must be covered in grungy grumpy travelers every night. Very strange. Sorry, I was so out of it that I forgot to take a picture. Maybe I´ll get one on the way back.
I finally got on my last leg of the trip, from Lima to Cusco. The winds are so high that it´s only safe to fly in to Cusco in the mornings. My flight was at 7:15am and took about an hour. It was unbelievable. I had a window seat and for about 45 minutes we flew over an absolute absence of mankind. Just a sere, brown mountainous landscape with the occasional snowmelt lake to vary the terrain. There were no roads, no buildings, no telephone poles. Just this inhospitable land. Suddenly, I understood why a one hour flight would take 2 days by land. At one point, we were flying immediately below an expanse of cirrus clouds that seemed to be framing us in an image. It really seemed possible to reach out and touch the top of the sky. Incredible.
The rest was a little anticlimactic. No problem with the landing, but my hostel, which had promised airport pickup, failed to appear. I waited for an hour and then gave in and took a cab. I decided not to spite my face by refusing to stay at a hostel that stood me up, and went to The Point anyway. They don´t know it yet, but I´ll be deducting that 15 sole cab fare from my final bill. I found the place, got checked in and had a blissful hot shower, and then was forced to wander the streets until allowed into my room at 12pm. Apparently, there was someone in my bed ´til then.
Tune in next time for the further adventures of 20ish Christine!
I left for the airport in San Francisco at 5:30am on June 27th. I then spent the next 24 hours in transit. The highlight was the trip from LAX to Lima International. My seatmate was a recently legalized immigrant from Brasil who wanted to tell me her entire life story. This included her separation from her two children since coming the the US 7 years ago; her experiences as an illegal immigrant; her attempted suicide of 2 years ago; and her recent marriage to an American and acquisition of a green card. Harrowing! Not exactly the cheeriest seatmate.
In Lima, there were a group of about 20 of us gringos who landed at 12am and were scheduled to fly out to Cusco for Machu Picchu in the morning. The airport security wouldn't let us into the gate area, they were cleaning? so, we all scattered to various corners and snoozed in our sleeping bags until morning. Considering that people flock to Cusco every day, I had a sudden thought that the airport must be covered in grungy grumpy travelers every night. Very strange. Sorry, I was so out of it that I forgot to take a picture. Maybe I´ll get one on the way back.
I finally got on my last leg of the trip, from Lima to Cusco. The winds are so high that it´s only safe to fly in to Cusco in the mornings. My flight was at 7:15am and took about an hour. It was unbelievable. I had a window seat and for about 45 minutes we flew over an absolute absence of mankind. Just a sere, brown mountainous landscape with the occasional snowmelt lake to vary the terrain. There were no roads, no buildings, no telephone poles. Just this inhospitable land. Suddenly, I understood why a one hour flight would take 2 days by land. At one point, we were flying immediately below an expanse of cirrus clouds that seemed to be framing us in an image. It really seemed possible to reach out and touch the top of the sky. Incredible.
The rest was a little anticlimactic. No problem with the landing, but my hostel, which had promised airport pickup, failed to appear. I waited for an hour and then gave in and took a cab. I decided not to spite my face by refusing to stay at a hostel that stood me up, and went to The Point anyway. They don´t know it yet, but I´ll be deducting that 15 sole cab fare from my final bill. I found the place, got checked in and had a blissful hot shower, and then was forced to wander the streets until allowed into my room at 12pm. Apparently, there was someone in my bed ´til then.
Tune in next time for the further adventures of 20ish Christine!
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