After spending almost two months wandering at such forbidding heights of the Andes, the time is nigh to venture on. So it is with sweet farewell that I bid my last adieus to fabled Cusco after wandering her bustling and scented alleyways one last time. Yesterday was mostly spent wandering aimlessly, people-watching the strange mixture and commotion of locals and tourists, then wandering the artisan markets to imbibe the traditional colors and crafts.
Walking the outskirts of town, it is not difficult to notice the disparity from the more touristed main plazas. Here and there the chaotic traffic honks, the air chokes, vendors ply their goods on streets, the indigent lay listless begging, the scent of food cooking waft through the air, here and there abandoned tires litter by the train tracks; all in all, it is a strange mixture of good and bad. Some how, despite or because of it all, Cusco has endeared itself to this wanderer.
After one last meal at the artisan market, I taxied to the central terminal and secured a 23 hour, over-night bus ticket bound for Lima. Though the bus was mostly modern and well-equipped, I did have some misgivings about the journey – and debated flying for better part of the day – as it would entail winding down from over 10,000 ft in the Andes down to sea level at Lima, all over circuitous mountains paths. Perhaps it would have been better to fly as it would have taken only about an hour; but, in the end I did save some money. And so with the sites and scenes imprinted in memory, I stared pensively at the passing streets of Cusco as it slowly faded behind in the road.
It is always a stark contrast of sorts changing locales suddenly. Lima seems a far removed world from Cusco. It is a bustling modern metropolis of 8.5 million, complete with all the trappings of any large city, including global corporate storefronts dotting the boulevards. In a way, Lima is almost an oasis in a barren landscape; as the road leading up to Lima evinced nothing but vast stretches of desiccating landscapes with nary a brush growing on some of the driest stretches anywhere on earth.
After soem 23.5 hours, the bus slowly approached the near suburbs of Lima. Curiously, the remote areas of town are dotted with urban slums and shacks. By comparison to La Paz, Bolivia, which is entirely built on unstable sandstone and pebbles, Lima’s vicinity seems to be built on top of pure dry sand. Yet, amid this vast dry stretch along the southern Pacific coast, a vast capitol pulses to the beat of each human footstep. The city buzzes, the people chatter, the lights flash. This city will show her character in the few days I have remaining on this trip. I yet have time enough to explore a bit.