Travel Diary: Cusco, Peru
After a magical day in Machu Picchu, Ama and I found our way to the old Incan capital of Cusco.
Ama and I found ourselves with a free morning after a full day to Machu Picchu and back. With an 11:00 am pickup to take us to our hotel in Cusco, we were able to read, write, and relax with a host of coffees. Shortly before the van was slated to arrive we made our way to the courtyard to take in some sunshine. By 11:15, we were on the road to Cusco.
The drive to Cusco from Urabamba is just 35 miles, but took more than 90 minutes with narrow mountain roads and traffic. The mountainous trek wound us through a series of small towns where we caught more glimpses of how the locals actually live. It is still largely a hard scrabble existence in these mountain towns. Jobs are scarce, and tourism is not as prevalent along these mountain passes, as many of these places are just a spot to pass through. These communities can see the wealthy foreign tourists streaming through their town, but the buses rarely stop to spend any money.
We reached the busy streets of Cusco and the front door of our hotel at about 1:00 in the afternoon. Ama and I stashed our luggage and hit the pavement towards the city’s historic main square, the Plaza de Armas. As we made our way to the Plaza we stopped for a traditional Peruvian lunch at Picanteria Tradicional del Inca. Most of the local restaurants offer a special of the day, often called a ‘Comida’. It’s a sort of blue plate special for the Latin world.
On the day that Ama and I were there, Picanteria Tradicional del Inca offered a Peruvian style soup with corn, meat, intestines, and potatoes along with a choice of seven different entrees. We opted for the tallarin de pollo which was a grilled chicken filet atop a plate of spaghetti with a smoky Peruvian red sauce. The meal was filling, piping hot, and quite tasty. With a Coke and a bottle of water, the meal came to a whopping total of 24 Peruvian Soles or about $6.50 USD. Once done with lunch, we hit the street again toward the plaza.
Cusco was the Incan capital until the Spanish arrived in 1532 and ransacked the town, plundering its gold, silver and jewels. Much of what was the original Incan city still survives and can best be seen in the massive rocks that make up some of its outer walls. Immediately after the conquest of the Incas, Pissaro and the Spanish began to divide the city into lots for Spanish ownership. They also set to building what was at that time the largest Cathedral in the world outside of Europe.
The Incas had built a temple on the square called Kiswarkancha. The plaza was also the location of the palace used by the rulers of the Incas. When the Spanish arrived, they destroyed the temple and the palace and built their Cathedral on its ruins. Today the square is flanked on two sides by the main Cathedral and the rather large Church of the Society of Jesus. The other two sides of the square are flanked by a series of two and three story buildings dating back centuries. These spaces are now filled by bars, cafes, restaurants, and shops.
Ama and I made our way to the third floor of the restaurant Mistura for an afternoon toddy in the sun. Although we had expected the weather in Cusco to be cooler, grey, and rainy, we found ourselves sipping a Cusqueña in the sunshine of a 65 degree day. We watched the people below milling about the square and selling their wares.
Upon finishing our beers, we made our way back to the square to explore the area further. We wandered around the exteriors of the two main churches as well as the nearby convent. As we made our way to the area in front of the main Cathedral, we noticed a photo shoot happening across the street. A young woman was dressed in a sequined purple dress and a tiara. A series of young men in military style uniforms and carrying scabbards took turns playing her “prince” while a photographer snapped pictures of the couples with the Cathedral set as a perfect backdrop.
After another hour or two of walking and people watching, we found an upstairs restaurant called Jonas that featured balcony seating with a partial view of the square. Ama ordered a glass of white wine. I opted for a Negroni. As we enjoyed our drinks, the light rain turned from drizzle to downpour. We watched soaked locals traveling from work to home at the end of a long Friday. We watched traffic pile up and saw the gridlock laid out for blocks from our upstairs view.
As we asked for a second cocktail, we also ordered a pizza with alpaca prosciutto on it. The pie was straight up delicious. A blend of mozzarella and local cheeses sat on a thin crust with light sauce, alpaca prosciutto, and herbs. When the pizza arrived, we moved to a table inside the restaurant as the balcony had gotten rather cool quite suddenly. We savored our very special meal, and sipped at our cocktails. It was a perfect toddy, and my favorite meal of the trip thus far.
We made the 35 minute walk back to the room through a very light rain, stopping along the way to grab a Coke and some popcorn for later. I got a bit of work done, and tried to find something worth watching on the hotel room TV. Eventually, I read a few chapters of the new R.E.M. book before turning in for the night.
Ama and I were up and out the door by 9:00 am the following morning. We once again hit the trail directly toward the Plaza de Armas and a visit to the Museum of Pre-Colombian Art. We strolled along major avenues and side streets for roughly 40 minutes before finding ourselves at the entrance to the museum, which is housed in an old palace with a gorgeous interior courtyard.
There were just a few other visitors as we made our way into the museum and paid the entrance fee of roughly $7 USD. The first room on the tour was a brief film explaining the history of the region up until the Spanish Conquest in 1532 and a preview of just some of the pieces in the museum’s rather impressive collection.
Once the film was complete, we began the tour of the museum’s eleven large rooms. Within the collection there are crowns, coins, amulets, earrings, and kitchenware all hewn from gold and silver. A trio of massive rooms displayed nothing but glorious wood carvings, artworks, vases, figures, cups, ornamental staffs, and more. The craftsmanship on these pieces was nothing short of stunning. Many of the relics date as far back as the time of Christ and have not only held together, but are in such pristine shape that one can still witness the expertise with which the items were crafted.
The museum is an unabashed testament to the artistry and genius of the early peoples that lived in the region that is now the nation of Peru. These works further exhibit the intelligence and aptitude of these peoples that ended up as subjects to the Spanish Empire after their brutal colonization.
As white Americans, we have long been fed the idea that conquest of the “savage world” was for the benefit of the people being subjugated. The collection at The Museum for Pre-Colombian Art proves that a vibrant, multi-faceted, and advanced society was well in place long before Pissarro and his men came crashing into Cusco. The beauty and humanity inside the museum are a testament to the genius of a people long thought to be primitive.
As we exited the museum, we strolled the most ancient sections of the city center. Along one long block of the street, the original walls of the Incan capital stand on full display. The massive stones are each several feet high, and several feet wide. During the original construction in the 14th and 15th centuries, these huge stones were hand hewn and set into place without room left between the stones to slide a credit card some seven centuries later. It is a marvel of architectural engineering and pure human strength to stand next to the stones of Cusco.
For much of the afternoon, we strolled the streets and watched the locals. By late afternoon we’d made our way back to the Mercado Central de Artlesanal to do a bit of shopping. Like most markets in the Latin world, the market in Cusco is a maze of alleys, walkways, and alcoves. Each vendor displays their wares from floor to ceiling in tiny, cramped stalls that feature textiles, wood carvings, tchotchkes, ceramics, clothing, and much more. On the sidewalk outside the market, there were a number of vendors selling snacks, drinks, ice cream, and traditional Peruvian fare from carts.
I picked up a scarf for Kimmy and a few trinkets for the girls including some Peruvian chocolate and hand harvested sea salt. Ama snagged some bottle openers to bring to friends back home while we enjoyed the sights, sounds, and smells of the market.
We made our way back to the hotel for a bit of rest and a chance to clean up a tad from a full day of walking. After taking an hour or so to read, relax and refresh, we found ourselves back out on the Cusco streets in the late afternoon sunshine.
Once again making our way down to the Plaza de Armas, we walked slowly down the lane that runs on the west side of the Cathedral. As we hit the sunshine of the treeless plaza, we heard a female voice laced with a Yorkshire accent ask, “Debbie! Debbie, is that you?”
Somehow, we had run into our British friends Mick and Carolyn from the train ride at Machu Picchu. In a massive old city, we had stumbled onto our new friends from Newcastle. We chatted for a few minutes, gobsmacked that we had found each other again. Carolyn and Mick were waiting for the overnight bus and were simply out for a stroll when they had spotted us coming down the street. We hugged our new friends goodbye and wished them safe travels. Somehow, it would not be the last time we’d “bump” into them on our journeys.
Continuing our walk, Ama and I found a duo playing traditional Peruvian music with a pipe and a violin. It was the first time we had heard true traditional style music being played on the street since we’d arrived in Cusco. A father and his young daughter danced together with massive smiles on their beaming faces. A crowd of tourists gathered to watch the dancers as much as the musicians. I smiled and thought of my own girls thousands of miles, and seemingly hundreds of years away from that moment with me. But I remembered the sensation of that father and his daughter deeply with my own girls so many moons ago. I smiled and watched with pure happiness.
We then made our way over to the Cusco Cathedral, once the largest Cathedral outside of Europe. The day prior the church was only open to visitors willing to pay an entry fee of roughly $17 USD. On a Saturday evening, we found ourselves visiting just in time for the weekend evening mass.
The Cathedral was crowded with parishioners and visitors. In a central area, cordoned off by massive gold gates, a small group of musicians played songs while the congregation sang along. The trio of songs we heard sung were seemingly from a disparate collection of sources. One song sounded much like a typical Catholic hymn sung in Spanish, the local tongue. The two other compositions were more traditional sounding, and even featured some language that sounded much like Quechua, the original language of the Incas.
I slowly strolled the perimeter of the cathedral and listened intently to the songs and watched the faces of folks in the midst of a devotional moment. I have long been skeptical of the Church, and for that matter, almost all organized religion. Still, I find a church service in a foreign land in an unknown tongue to be a soothing and meditative experience. I can fill myself with the hope, beauty, and serenity of the moment without being forced to swallow all of the hypocritical dogma that usually comes with any particular brand of faith.
Across the square, we noticed that the other large Church was also in the midst of a service and we arrived just in time to catch the benediction and the exiting of parishioners. I watched families connect after the service. I saw kids playing with one another while their parents chatted about their lives in the midst of the massive church. After a few minutes of playing the voyeur I slowly made my way back to the street.
Having put more than 20,000 steps on the soles of our shoes throughout the day, I pulled up Uber and called a car to ferry us back to the room. As I readied for bed, I looked back on a day filled with art, music, dancing, reverence, and joy. Cusco had not failed to delight all the senses. As much as I anxiously awaited our forthcoming time in the jungle, I found it hard to bid Cusco adios so quickly.
Cheers,
Matty C