The survivors rattle on...

We sent Riki on his way early Monday morning, flying from Puno to Lima in the early morning...about an hour and a half flight...and onto to Maui at something like 11 that night. Long time in the Lima airport.

My crew, Kristina, Malu, Kanahe, and me, headed to the train station where we boarded the magnificent Andean Explorer train to Cusco. First ones on the train, we found ourselves in plush, quasi English club room surroundings. No plain old train seats, but Queen Anne chairs surrounding linen covered tables. Delightful. And the observation car on the end of the train featured a bar car on the end of which was an open air car with leather covered benches from which you could view and feel the Andean countryside. Yes, we were in hog heaven.

Once again, however, Kanahe was the star. I am not sure of the cultural or anthropological significance of this, but the haughty Germans and pinched English in our car, all on the older side, pretty much ignored Kanahe. While the Italians and Latins that passed through the car, including the staff, went gaga over him. Part of the reticence of the Europeans, I will admit, was their fear, upon seeing a 5 month old and 5 year old in THEIR train car, on the train ride they had saved and waited for all of their lives, that there would be honyocks going apeshit. In fact, the English even admitted it at the end of the ride. But to a person, the passengers of color, so to speak, stopped and made quite a to do over the little one. The Italians, including the men, stopped to take pictures. Several times during the 10 hour ride, our Latin attendant stopped by to hold and ogle Kanahe and whisked him away into the nether reaches of the train. She stopped by at one point to ask if she could borrow him for a fashion show...unfortuately, he was feeding and nothing gets in the way of Kanahe and his chow.

Anyway, we lunched on china...lovely if not extraordinary food...I had Andean sushi, boiled beef with some kind of pepper sauce, and rice pudding...and were served tea an hour or so before our arrival. The service was great, and the food delivered as if we were in the finest, if show offy, restaurant in Paris, the waiters lining up in the car with dishes in hand and, simultaneously delivering the dishes to the table. Too cute.

The landscape along the way was monumental, tall, steep mountains, rivers running alongside the tracks...and in some towns, we seemed to actually tear right through the market place with stalls practically touching the train.

Although it was a 10 hour ride, the group held up well considering. We soon found our way to the Hotel Ninos in Cusco. It is a little colonial style hotel, very simple and cheap, run by a foundation created by some Dutch woman to benefit homeless children of Peru. All I really cared about was a good bed and a hot shower, and the Hotel Ninos has both. Unfortunately, Malu began to have a nasal situation, perhaps a cold. So I ran out into the night to find Nyquil...no go. So I bought something recommended by the farmacia and when Malu woke up in the middle of the night, crying about how miserable he was, Kristina fed him one of the pills and he seemed to sleep much better.

Unfortunatly, Kristina accidentally overdosed him in the morning. There were no instructions on the packaging, and she remember me saying something about 2, i.e., 2 a day. But she thought, well if it works that good, lets try 2 this morning. At breakfast, Malu conked out and had to lay on two restaurant chairs pulled together. Meanwhile, I ran errands...more diapers, a visit to the ATM, and a visit to the South American Explorers Club, of which I am a member...yes, nerd alert...to find out how to get to Yucay in the Sacred Valley. I got to see a good portion of central Cusco, and it is lovely. The town means a lot to me, having just read a great history of the Incas. It was in the very Plaza de Armas where we had breakfast, and where Malu conked out and where we later changed Kanahes diaper in the grass while the policia watched, that the most decisive battle between the Incas and the invading Spanish was fought. The City is surrounded by mountains. The Spanish held the City, and hung out in the Plaza de Armas. The Incas had learned by that time that they were no match for the Spanish horses or guns on level ground, so they surrounded the city in the mountains and rained arrows, some with fire, into the Plaza. They did this for weeks. At night, the outnumbered Spanish would look out into the hills and shudder to see the Inca campfires glowing throughout the hills. Freaky stuff. We did not get to explore much more because we had to head to Yucay.

Yucay is in the Sacred Valley, another spectacular Andean valley. I had no idea how to get there, and I did not want to pay some tour operator, who would gouge me and then lecture me to death, not to mention stopping at the souvenir stalls where he would get a commission. So the SAE told me to go to one corner in the City and either catch a collectivo, which is a small public bus that packs them to the gills and heads off to a particular location. Or we could take what is in effect a private taxi. We opted for the latter. However, when we got to the intersection in question, this was no bus or train station. It was a bunch of guys standing around. When the cab stopped and we got out, they approached us yelling out towns. A little freaky, but, what the hell. We told the guy Yucay, and he whisked us to his car. He took us on an hour and 15 minute ride into the mountains for about 15 dollars. By way of reference, I can barely get home from my office for 15 dollars in San Francisco.

Our hotel, the Casona de Yucay, is yet another lovely hacienda. Simon Bolivar even stayed here, so there. We had lunch at a restaurant recommended by the hotel in nearby Urubamba. We thought it was great. But after I left for my solo field trip to the ruins in nearby Ollantaytambo, Malu hurled all over the restaurant...and Kristina. They retreated to the hotel where, so far tonight, he has hurled 2 more times. We are keeping our fingers crossed that his hurling will be completed by the 6 a.m. train. Pete stop laughing.

Oh yes, the ruins of Ollantaytambo were spectacular. An Inca fortress built into the side of a mountain another 35 minutes from Yucay. Fantastic location, and the ruins were both monumental and incredible...how did they build these things. It was very windy and at one point I found myself on a narrow path hugging the mountain. Not my thing. Glad I made the extra effort to see this stuff, despite my being bloated and tired from lunch.

Tomorrow, we catch the Backpacker Train to Aguas Calientes, which sits at the bottom of the mountain on top of which sits Machu Picchu. We will just see.