The trip from Puno to Cusco was largely without incident. Wooksie was recovering from her hospitalisation, probably the best way to describe her was fragile, having a 10 hour bus ride with her feet up looking at the landscape as the altitude dropped was a good way of spending the day.
We stopped off to have a look at a museum and some ancient sites. It started to become clear that the history of the indigenous people was pretty vague and did not seem to develop into anything significant before the Inca nation emerged by conquering what existed before.
We arrived at our hotel in central Cusco with Wooksie feeling better and able to go for a gentle walk around the town. My alarm bells for the Inca Trail were ringing loud as it was only 72 hours before we were due to head off on the Inca Trail so the recovery needed to be fast.
It is worth noting that if you do the bus trip from Puno to Cusco, the bus drops you outside of the main city, so you have to get a taxi into the centre, this is a pain if you haven’t organised one when you book the bus.
We found our way to the hotel and I left Wooksie in our room to recover and went of a scouting mission to get a bit of orientation around Puno.
It is basically a beautiful town square in classic Spanish Central American style. The Incas has plenty of gold so the Spanish invested time in beautiful buildings.
The town spreads out in all directions, including up a cliff behind the main square, there are lots of boutique hotels up on this hill as they give great views down through the valleys.
As with everywhere in Peru, there is lots of traffic and every trip is fraught with danger when crossing the roads. Cusco is busy but the town square is where most tourists head for and to be fair, it can be quite peaceful when the traffic calms down.
Checking out online I discovered they had two Irish Bars, both of which claimed to be the highest Irish Bar in the world. So I headed over to investigate and found they were only about 50m apart. I’m guessing the lower of the two was first and was pretty annoyed when the other one turned up.
They both provided great sources of safe food for Wooksie and part of her recovery, live music and lots of fellow adventurers from all walks of life and all ages to chat.
The unexpected treat that I discovered was a Starbucks on the other corner of the square, this place was turning into a little bit of heaven for us as we got a bit of western culture back into us before heading back into the wilds.
Our investigations of Cusco were largely based in the streets around the main square. The ancient Inca museum was probably the highlight, as that was where all the artifacts from the archaeology were displayed.
it further reinforced our view that pre Inca, little was known about the civilisations that existed before, and most of the items on display were rudimentary tools which we would associate with the Stone Age in the UK.
The side streets were attractive, colourful, full of hawkers trying to sell us stuff and great place for Wooksie to continue to acclimate herself to the altitude.
Then it was time to prepare for the early morning departure to the Sacred Valley of the Incas and more altitude adjustment time for Wooksie..
Our altitude strategy was to prepare for the Inca Trail trek was to spend 4 days at high altitude on Lake Titicaca, at 3800m to adjust, and then travel down to Cusco at 2500m and we should have been ready to go.
Unfortunately Wooksie had picked up a tummy bug on the way back from Nazca so wasn’t on top form. We flew from Lima to Juliaco, all the guidebooks said avoid Juliaco unless you want to be mugged, which we didn’t so we got a taxi direct to Puno.
The lack of oxygen at high altitude hits you really fast, when I got out at Juliaco it was like having a weight on my chest. During the taxi ride Wooksie said she was feeling really sleepy, I felt drowsy as well as my body adjusted to the lack of oxygen. I was particularly concerned because I suffer from asthma, so expected a tricky transition.
We booked a lovely hotel on the banks of Lake Titicaca, on the basis we could sit around, enjoy the view, not do much and adapt. We pottered around for a bit and Wooksie decided she wanted a nap, this was exactly what every guide to high altitude said would happen, so I wasn’t particularly concerned and went for a walk to push my lungs and push my transition.
That night we had dinner in the hotel and an early night, next day we went for a walk around Puno, which I have to say isn’t a very exciting place.
Unexciting unless you are in the fruit market when the train comes through, at that point all the stalls are dragged off the tracks until it has gone.
We strolled around the port, bought some medicine for the stomach bug, but Wooksie was tired again and went back to bed in the afternoon, while I got in a 10km walk without much trouble so I was doing fine.
We then did a 2 day tour of the islands on Lake Titicaca and I became increasingly concerned about Wooksie as she was deteriorating rather than improving. She made the climb from the dock to the square, a climb of about 100m un altitude over maybe a kilometre, so steep but nothing terrible.
It was obvious something was wrong, she gritted her teeth and climbed up, literally 1 step at a time. After a rest at the top, she perked up and made it back to the boat, but within minutes she was fast asleep again for the trip back.
The walk from the cab to the hotel was painful, she was hardly moving and it suddenly hit me that we were supposed to be doing the Inca Trek in 4 days’ time. Surely this couldn’t just be just altitude sickness, so I got the hotel to call out the doctor to check her out.
In simple terms, we normally have an oxygen level of about 95 in our blood. During Covid, if your oxygen level dropped below 80 you were admitted to hospital, and the human brain shuts down when oxygen level drops below 70.
Wooksie had an oxygen rating of 72, she was on the verge of being critically ill, the sleeping was her body shutting down. Her body had been busy fighting the stomach bug she picked up in Nazca, it couldn’t cope with the shock of the altitude and her body was losing the fight.
The doctor rushed her to the emergency clinic, wired her up to drip, oxygen, antibiotics, hydration and anything else they could think of to help her survive and get her back up to speed. The solution was quite simple, we had to get down to lower altitude to help her recover.
So, a mad panic to put our transport plans back 24 hours so she could have time in the clinic on oxygen and then it was on to a bus downhill to Cusco.
I was fully expecting her to come out of hospital the next day full of beans and jumping around but it was nothing like that, her oxygen count was still only about 84 after 24 hours, so she still had no energy – this wasn’t the fix we were hoping for but it was the best we could do, and Wooksie took it easy as the bus wasn’t until the next morning.
Meanwhile, not to waste and opportunity, I went out in search of a pizza to bring back to the hotel and found myself in this amazing little bar, luckily it did takeaway pizzas too. I took the opportunity to test their beer while I was waiting for the pizza. As the bar was empty, I couldn’t resist the temptation to fiddle with the music playlist and before i knew it I was on my second beer whilst choosing the music and listening to Blue Monday. If only Wooksie could enjoy this too, and they did a great pizza.
I had been carrying a couple of spare Argyle scarves to donate to a bar somewhere, that was hosting the travelling football fan tradition of dropping your scarf off in a foreign country. I wasn’t going to get much further from Plymouth than Puno, so I donated my first scarf to their very small collection and I hopefully it is still there, the Green Army now owns Puno.
After spending a couple of days adjusting to altitude in Puno, we set off on our main event, a tour of the islands on Lake Titicaca. Things didn’t get off to a good start, when there was a misunderstanding about our collection point, and we only made it to the quay with seconds to spare.
Wooksie was still tired but said she was feeling a bit better. We headed out into the bay in search of the floating islands, which apparently move about and after a 90 minute cruise we were ready to board.
The guide was excellent and gave us the full run down on their lifestyles, basically they are floating gypsies or nomads. They live on floating islands of reeds so they don’t have to pay any tax, which is linked to land.
Apparently, the villages rotate as the destination for tours, and they were very geared up to extract our cash, which unfortunately we didn’t have. We saw a lot of arts and crafts but their existence was intriguing. Families build rafts, sometimes there are multiple families on a floating island so like a mini tribe, if they fall they kick the family the don’t like off the raft.
Obviously, this is a bit inconvenient out on the lake, so they actually cut the raft up and give them their share of the island. Each island has a chief, and they seem to rotate through some process of democracy. Meanwhile Wooksies was feeling dozy again and when we got back on the boat she dozed off.
The tour included and overnight stop so we headed further out onto the lake and when we passed a headland we started to be hit by waves. Not surprising as Lake Titicaca is not only the highest navigable lake in the world, it is also one of the biggest so it is like being out in the sea so we bounced around until we arrived at our overnight island.
The guide told us about their subsistence lifestyle and how the occupants traced their ancestors back generations, At this point my alarm bells started to ring, where were we sleeping, I’d assumed it was a hotel when I booked but as we got closer to the shore it was clear that there we no hotels.
On landing, we were told all about the wonderful cultural events that awaited us, but first it was time for a meal followed by a climb to the top of the island, a good altitude test as it would take me up to 4500m.
The accommodation was actually quite nice, a bit like an Airbnb provided by natives, but it was made of stone and had beds, well in my case, the mattress was by far the worst mattress I have ever slept on, rock hard doesn’t even start to tell it.
We found some new Italian chums from Milan, Luigi and Florence, it turned out Florence was feeling rough as well so the two ladies went to bed (separately) and left Luigi and I to our own devices, so we had a kip as well, until he came to collect me for the trek, which I was rather wishing he wouldn’t if I was honest.
The fact the two women slept reassured me there was nothing out of the ordinary about Wooksie, it was still only 48 hours since we’d arrived so still within the recovery margins. I did the climb with Luigi and we discussed football all the way up and all the way down, I learned a lot about Inter Milan and he learned an amazing amount about Plymouth Argyle.
By an amazing coincidence, I took a photo of the sunset over Bolivia and there were a couple of young people in the shot. On the way down we stopped for a hot chocolate in a little hut, and they were there. I offered to send them a copy of the photo and during the discussion, it turned out they were also from Bristol and lived less than 5 miles from me – what a coincidence.
I got back to the room and Wooksie hadn’t moved, she hadn’t even touched her water either, at this point my alarm bells started to ring as this couldn’t be right.
I didn’t bother with the cultural evening which was half back to the top of the island, and just had a good kip and kept my eye on Wooksie.
The next day we visiting a different island about 10 miles up the coast but it’s development as a society was quite incredible, apparently there was little or no contact with the other island and their entire social and cultural development was different, it was like a commune where everything was shared.
It was becoming obvious that there was something wrong with Wooksie, she had slept all night, hadn’t drunk any water and was looking pale. When we got to the island, it was a struggle to get off the boat, but she managed it but the climb up to the village was very painful, just one step at a time.
They had a beautiful town square with wonderful views across the lake to Bolivia. We spent a pleasant morning watching the locals go through their dance regimes in their best dress outfits before heading back down to lake level, boarding the boat and heading back to Puno to find a doctor.
I learned about the Nazca lines when I was in my teens, I read a book about evidence of spacemen landing on earth and apparently the Nazca lines were evidence of their runway. They also drew images of creatures on the desert floor for unknown reasons, many of the creatures live thousands of miles away in the Amazon or out in the Pacific Ocean, not here. The lines date back to civilisations up to 200 BC.
The drawings and lines were only discovered when planes started to fly over Peru in the 1920s, the images are not visible from the ground as they are so big. The images have been perfectly preserved because there is no rain or wind in this region, so no erosion. The landscape is flat and desolate and it is difficult to imagine humans living here it is so alien. There are various theories about their purpose and origins, but it still very much a mystery.
After our big night out, we gathered at 545am with all our gear together, grabbed a drink and some fruit and headed for the rendezvous for the coach to see the Nazca lines. Dawn and Reg were waiting for us, with big smiles on their faces and happy to share what great night’s sleep they had enjoyed, and asked us how our night had gone. We just grunted in response.
I think our eyes told the story, but it was time to head to one of our big events of the holiday, the Nazca lines as part of the PeruHop itinerary.
The journey from hell
I was expecting a transfer to a local airport to fly down to see the Nazca lines, but how wrong I was. It turned out that the minibus was a FOUR hour drive to Nazca, where we picked up the plane. The journey was painful, a cramped minibus bouncing along the 2 lane highways of southern Peru with our heads rocking from side to side as we tried to grab some sleep.
After 3 hours we stopped in the middle of nowhere by a large tower and told we needed to climb the steps. To be honest it was a relief from being in the bus so we climbed the tower, and to our amazement we could see one of the desert drawings right below us. It turned out that the road was built before planes started flying, so the road was built straight through the image as they couldn’t see it from ground level.
If the bus ride was difficult, worse was to come. We arrived at the landing strip in the middle of nowhere. There were quite a few people waiting for flights, there was a conveyor belt of small planes taking off to take passengers over the lines. We then discovered we had to pay a take off tax in cash before we could fly, and of course, we had spent all our cash the night before. One of the local entrepreneurs solved the problem with some fiddle, a lot of commission and cash appeared.
This put us at the back of the queue so we were stuck in a hot hangar, with our hangovers, for 90 minutes before we could get on a plane. We saw Dawn and Reg come back from their tour and got an update on what to expect, and they did look a little traumatised to be honest and we never saw them again.
The flight over the lines
Eventually it was our turn, we crammed ourselves into the plane, strapped ourselves in and put on our headsets. This was no jumbo jet, just 6 passengers and a world of history to discover, and before we new it we were bouncing down the runway and airborne.
Our hangovers had marginally improved by this stage but they soon came back with a vengeance. To be fair, the pilot and guide were very helpful people and wanted us to have an excellent view. So as we approached the first of the images the pilot dipped the wings and put the plane on it’s side so we could all get a better view of the image on our left. As you can imagine, this did not have a good effect on the stability of our stomachs or heads as the plane tipped and righted itself again.
To be even more helpful, the guide announced that they would do another pass from the opposite direction for the benefit of the passengers on the right of the plane, so they too could get a great view. So the plane did a U turn, which involved being tipped on our sides again, going around and levelling up. Then we headed back to see the image on the right of the aircraft. How nobody was sick during this manoeuvre I will never know, with or without hangovers.
And so the routine was set for the next hour in the plane. The incredibly helpful guide and a willing pilot that was only too happy to go around again and again. The drawings themselves weren’t that easy to spot, as they were obviously the same colour as the desert floor, so it required a level of concentration that I didn’t really have, but luckily sharp eyed Wooksie was very helpful as normal. It was like being having a stunt pilot taking us on a tour, the only thing we didn’t do was a loop de loop.
These drawing are really one of the great wonders of the world, their size and intricacy are astonishing when you see them. The origins and purpose are a mystery and the thing that amazed me was that they were drawing of animals from thousands of miles away,
It wasn’t just the drawings, there are also the lines, which absolutely look like a landing strip, they run for miles into the distance and are totally straight and diagonal.
There is also evidence of man-made canals and a water course, which is even more inexplicable as there is no water and isn’t much sign of it ever being there now but the climate has changed. I have seen many of the wonders of the world but this one is really up there as the most intriguing.
The enthusiasm of the pilot became a bit wearing after a while, the endless fly pasts of the drawings, U turns and airplane wing dipping to improve the view was taking it’s toll on everyone onboard.
Eventually we landed and the passengers staggered out of the plane, some unable to stand properly, others threw up. Wooksie and I staggered off, thanked the pilot and guide for their enthusiasm and looked for something stable to sit on.
Journey back to Lima
Before we knew it, we were back on the bus and soon back in the town of Nazca to await our connection back to Lima. It was then that we discovered the full extent of the Peru Hop network, and how effective it was. Most people were waiting for a coach to Arequipa, one of the cities we had left off the schedule. From there people were travelling on to Puna by coach.
We had a much needed burger and chips for a meal before boarding the coach, finding a comfy seat and falling asleep.
As we neared Lima, Wooksie started to complain about having stomach pains and was concerned that she might have a stomach bug. After a rough night at the hotel we headed for the airport for our flight to Juliaca for a transfer to see Lake Titicaca and Puna and our high altitude preparation that was about to unravel spectacularly.
Our first sight of Huacachina came soon after we arrived in Ica, we turned up a back road that wound up the sand dunes, then we came over the hill in the coach and there it was, the most stunning and unbelievable view of a beautiful oasis surrounded by the sand dunes the size of real mountains, it was like an image of heaven in a desolate, hell like landscape.
We made our way to our hotel, which was like any seaside hotel on the Med, so a swim was in order. As we got over our trip, we started to notice lines of ants crawling along the ridges of the distant and dunes, more investigation led to the discovery that these were some form of monster trucks.
This part of our South of Lima adventure was called something vague like “Fun in the sand dunes”, as we watched the little dots moving around the full potential of the fun started to take shape.
We met up with our fellow adventures and walked up the dunes to find our truck. Our new companions were Dawn and Reg from Scotland, a couple of doctors on a 6 month world tour with lots of great stories to share along with Bettina, an amazing young lady who worked for the United Nations refugee council.
As we walked up the path we started to hear the roar of the trucks in the boarding zone. We also watched the convoys of trucks coming back down the sand dunes over gravity defying drops and almost vertical climbs back up the dunes.
The afternoon promised a lot of fun, as we also had sand boarding included in the itinerary, hardly ideal for a bloke with a trapped nerve in his back!
Monster dune trucks
The first sight of the truck was amazing, in truth it wasn’t a truck, it was a giant V8 engine attached to a tube framework with seats. It was an incredibly powerful beast and the absence of any real exhaust system meant the noise was more akin to that of an aircraft.
Once we were all aboard, the engine fired up and off we went with engine roaring and sand being sprayed off the wheels as we followed a convoy of similar mechanical beasts up the dunes.
For the next hour we were on a roller coaster through the dunes, as we headed for the peaks. The climbs got steeper, the drops got bigger and the screaming in the truck got louder as our madman driver launched us off the tops of ridges.
The best way to describe the experience is that it was like being live in a Mad Max movie. It was one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done, my adrenalin was in overdrive willing the truck to go faster and fly higher!
Hope you enjoy the video of the sand buggy rides and it brings it to life for you.
Sand boarding for beginners
Eventually we pulled up to stretch our legs, and then discovered this wasn’t a break, it was the start of the sand boarding as we were stood on the top of a ridge. Boards were unloaded from the truck and we stood there looking at the drop, this meant decision time.
My trapped nerve was still an issue, but was definitely on the mend, but the Inca Trail trek was only a week away, so a wise person would have chosen not to go headfirst down a sand mountain, like Dawn and Reg. Not being a wise person, I grabbed the board, carefully knelt down gently, laid on the board and flew down the hill and gingerly stood up at the bottom, no damage done.
Back into the truck and off we went to our next stop with lots more roaring engines, flying off ridges and to avoid trucks coming from other angles. Eventually it took us to the high point of the tour, with an outstanding vista from one of the high points of the region. It was then that we realised there was another reason for reaching this high point of the region, it was the next sandboard opportunity.
Sand boarding for the deranged
After a climb along a ridge, we were faced with a downhill run that was at least 2 km long. There was no reason in the world for a sensible person with a trapped nerve in their back to go headfirst down this hill. However, the constant excitement of the racing trucks had my adrenaline pumping and the next thing I was looking down the mountain, in the company of my young companions. Before I knew it, I was having one of the most exciting runs of my life, going over 50mph headfirst down a sand mountain.
I hope you enjoy the video of our sand boarding and it brings it to life for you.
The truck collected us in the valley below and took us off to another remote part of the sand dunes to watch the incredible sunset over the dunes. At this remote location we all found places on the dunes to settle and just watch the vastness and desolated scene across the desert, providing a fabulous counterbalance to the adrenaline junkie events of the afternoon.
After we had climbed all over the trcucks for photos, and climbed up the sand dunes, we headed back to the truck park and the end of the adrenaline experience, but it wasn’t the end of the day.
We walked back down to the town for the evening BBQ and a few beers with our fellow adventurers but we had no idea how much mayhem was about to follow us as we headed for the bar to celebrate our adventures.
