Back to Cusco

2/14/14 8:51 AM        

                                                                                    

Here we are again, sitting on the train. Today, we are going back to Cusco. First, we'll take the train to Ollantaytambo, then we will try to find a cheap collectivo heading to Cusco. 

I feel like we are bleeding money here, paying a lot extra for things because we don't know the going rate. We've also been taken in by promises of free wifi and breakfast. This morning, when I asked the woman at the hostel about breakfast, she led me to the luggage room. For about 5 seconds, I actually thought that the luggage room doubled as a breakfast room.

No, no it did not.

I no longer wanted to be at that place. I hefted my bag up onto my back and practically lept to the door. Of course, I wasn't able to open it. The hostel woman had to come help me. Embarrassing. I actually felt relief once outside.

It's simple. Don't call yourself a B&B if you don't provide breakfast. And don't offer hot water or wifi if you don't actually have it.                                         

Aaarghh.  Thus ends my rant.

The train has begun to move, and I am awaiting my train snack. At least the train isn't going to let me down. I'm starving and looking forward to that dry, pre-packaged muffin with no discernible flavor.            

First Real Day in Peru

2/11/14  9.53 PM

Today we spent our first real day in Peru. The day started with an hour and a half flight delay in Lima. Apparently, the weather in Cusco made the flight impossible until later in the morning. We both snoozed upright in our seats while waiting at the gate. Normally, I'm not able to sleep except under very specific conditions, but this morning I was so exhausted that I was able to snooze just a bit.

The flight itself wasn't bad. I was expecting lots of turbulence due to bad weather, but there really wasn't much. After being treated to meal service (on an hour and forty-five minute flight), we were quickly ushered off the plane and into the arrivals hall, full of people looking for their bags and others pushing tours.

Normally, we wouldn't allow ourselves to be accosted by one of these gentlemen. Today, we didn't have much choice. Plus, we were tired. I can blame almost anything on being tired. A trip on the train to our destination, Ollantaytambo, would cost around USD $85 per person one way. A man selling tours approached us. We explained that we needed to get to Ollantaytambo. He offered us a private driver for $45. Not cheap, but better than the train. I wouldn't usually hand a man selling questionable tours my hard-earned money, but this time I did. He led us through the airport and out a sort of back way. 

Outside the airport stood dozens of eager young Peruvian men, all wanting to be your taxi driver. The tour man handed us off to one of these men who led us to his slightly-beat-up Toyota parked in the dirt parking lot of the Cusco airport. Apparently, everything that is said about drivers in Peru is true. The concept of lanes is very fluid - drivers tend to make their own lanes. Because of this craziness, drivers tend to honk ALL THE TIME. Essentially, they are honking to let pedestrians and other drivers know that they are there.

Somewhere across town, we were dropped off and ushered into a minivan. The driver introduced himself as Juan. Juan kindly announced each new town we passed through on the way to Ollantaytambo. Unfortunately, I was so tired from yesterday's activities that I couldn't even keep my eyes open and even snoozed a bit. Besides being a finicky sleeper, I am not at all known for my ability to sleep in any moving vehicle, so my extreme exhaustion is evident. 

I managed to open my burning eyes long enough to witness a girl with a large pig, another girl crossing the road with a cow, and some beautiful mountain and valley scenery. After we arrived in Plaza de Armas, the main square of Ollantaytambo, Alli asked me if I had seen the dead pig on the side of the road

No, no I had not.

Ollantaytambo is a small village in Sacred Valley between Cusco and Machu Picchu. The village was once the royal home of Emporer Pachacuti. Now, the town is a good resting point before seeing Machu Picchu.

We easily found Hostal Chaska Wasi and checked in. The man at reception handed us a key attached to a purple stuffed ape thing and led us to our room. 

After resting for a couple of hours, we ventured into the adobe-walled Incan village. Dirty dogs, many with simple red or blue collars, roamed the cobblestone streets. Beyond the main plaza, cars were forbidden; the ancient streets are too narrow. We meandered through the grid of streets as children played and local adults went about their business. It was already late, well after 3 PM, so we didn't wander for long before we stopped for dinner at a place that had a special on pizza.

After dinner, we headed back to the hostel to wind down for the night.

Tomorrow, we will acend to the ancient Incan ruins of Ollantaytambo.

Norway in a Nutshell

Norway in a Nutshell, for those of you who don't know, is not a tour in the traditional sense but more of a series of transportation connections that take you through the most beautiful parts of Norway. At over $200 one way, it's not cheap. But I'm glad I'm doing it and glad I have a couple of nights scheduled in Flåm as a stop over (the whole journey from Oslo to Bergen is about 12 hours).

There are various options available, but I started my Nutshell tour in Oslo. I took a train from Oslo to Myrdal. In Myrdal, I boarded a train for Flåm. The trip from Myrdal to Flåm is particularly steep. Much of the rail route between Myrdal and Flåm is on a 55% gradient; the railway is one of the steepest lines on normal gauge railroad tracks. The town of Myrdal is on a mountain and Flåm is located on the edge of the Aurlandfjord, a tributary of the Sognefjord. The route is only about 20 kilometers, but the journey takes most of an hour.

From Flåm, I will take a boat across the fjord to Gudvangen. From there, I will board a bus for Voss. In Voss, I will be transferred back to the train for the final leg of my journey. I will take the train to Bergen, my final destination on my European journey.

Train to Oslo

The train from Stockholm to Oslo is quite long. The train departed the station at 8:29 AM, and it is scheduled to arrive in Oslo at 2.54 PM. I had reserved a seat thinking that doing so would ensure that I had a comfortable seat for the duration of the trip. I was seated next to the window in front of a table. There was a seat next to me and two seats facing me on the other side of the table.

Although not the train I rode on, the table and seats
configuration on the train I rode looked very much like this.

Unfortunately, I wasn't expecting an Eastern European family to join me. The family consisted of a teenage daughter, a plump husband, and a very plump wife. This woman had curly dyed-blond hair with dark roots, dark eyebrows, even darker eyeliner, and bright lipstick. I didn't understand anything this family spoke about, but the family dynamics were interesting. The mother seemed... whiny. Once, she infantilized herself, putting her head on her daughter's shoulder pleadingly. The daughter left and returned with a snack for the two of them. Seriously. The father was just as enabling. Later, the mom pouted and the dad went to the restaurant car and brought bad a bottle of juice for her! And as short and roly poly this woman was, she still managed to take up 3/4 of the precious leg space. Uggh.

If I had not reserved a seat, I would have risked being kicked out of my chosen non-reserved seat by someone with a reservation. G and I actually had that experience on a long-distance train we took earlier in our trip. A woman had a reservation for the seat I was sitting in, so I had to move. G and I sat separately until later when the woman I was sitting next to got off the train.

The train will soon arrive at Oslo Central station. My legs are cramped, but at least I only have to deal with these people a few more minutes.

Train to Zurich

Leaving France. Next stop Switzerland.

At the Mulhouse train station

G and I returned the rental car this morning in Mulhouse, and now we are taking the train from Mulhouse to Zurich. We will spend the day in Zurich, then we will take an evening train into Austria. Our first stop in Austria is St. Anton am Arlberg, a ski town I visited on my first trip to Europe in 2002.

Himeji, Bunraku, and the Castle in Osaka

I knew that Himeji Castle was under construction, but Lonely Planet Japan made the work seem like no big deal, so I convinced Greg to spend a couple of hours in Himeji before we took the train to Osaka. 

Instead of a castle, we got a scaffold and tarp covered building.  The lack of a castle to take pretty pictures of did not deter us from wandering around the city.  

Fish sculpture with tarped Himeji Castle in the background.

We saw a circus tent with families lined up, a model reproduction of Himeji Castle in a shopping mall, a temple, and a covered pedestrian only shopping street.  We bought some lunch at a grocery store and walked back to the train station to travel to Osaka.

Once in Osaka, we boarded the loop train and got off at the station nearest the castle.  We had not yet visited a castle in Japan and we were both excited to see how the experience differed from our European castle experience.

Osaka Castle

Osaka Castle was not exactly what we had hoped it would be. We knew this castle wasn't original, but we were expecting a reproduction of the original.  After being damaged and mostly destroyed several times over, the castle was rebuilt in the 1990s with concrete as a museum with modern conveniences.

Along with the elevator were museum exhibitions, which were informative, but not what we were interested in.   We wanted to see how royalty in Japan lived.

Osaka Castle

The time was getting late and we still had to travel across town to get to the National Bunraku Theater in time for the 4pm performance. Slightly disappointed, we quickly looked through the 8 floors of the Osaka Castle and then hurried to the  nearest metro station.  After some difficulty with figuring out the metro fare and a discussion with the attendant, we purchased tickets, walked through the turnstiles, and boarded the metro train.

National Bunraku Theater, Osaka. 

We had bought tickets for a New Year's bunraku performance.  Bunraku is puppet-theater in which a choral narrator and a musical narrator sit stage left down stage.  The main action occurs center stage with 2 or 3 puppets each operated by 3 people.  A puppeteer must work on his craft for about 30 years before he can become the main puppeteer and operate both the head and the right hand.

Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take pictures of the performance or the inside of the theater, but I was able to find this awesome video explaining the art of bunraku and summarizing one of the plays we saw (3:15 into the video).

A short explanation of bunraku followed by a summary (at 3:15) of the play 

we saw, "Tsubosaka-kannon Reigenki."

The performance we saw included excerpts from two longer plays. There are two daily performances (2 different shows) during January. We saw the second performance on opening day.

Bunraku poster for the performance we saw at

 the National Bunraku Theater in Osaka.

The audience was made up of middle-aged Japanese people and a few tourists.  By the end of the hours-long performance, I was going crazy with discomfort.  I was wriggling and fidgeting; I couldn't help myself.  I don't think any of the Japanese people moved at all! They were completely still and attentive the entire four hours.  I've never seen such an interested audience.

Although I very much enjoyed the show, I admit I became bored toward the end.  After the performance, Greg and I were talking and we discovered that in the penultimate scene where the wife threw herself off a cliff to join her suicidal, dead husband, we were both thinking the same thought, "Go on! Do it! Jump! Jump! Get it over with!"

We are both glad we had the opportunity to see the show.  Before we came to Japan, Greg asked me what I wanted to do while here.  I told him I wanted to see a kabuki play or other traditional theater.  While studying for my teacher's certification in drama, I learned about kabuki, bunraku, and noh theater. Reading about these traditional types of drama is one thing, but seeing a performance in person is completely different.

Tired and with sore bums, we left the theater and again walked to the nearest train station.  Fortunately for us with our JR rail passes, Osaka is circled by train stations and the bunraku theater wasn't terribly far from a station.

We didn't make it back to Kyoto until quite late.