Thursday, July 06, 2006

I'm writing this on the bus and I don't know when I'll get the chance to post it, but I'm glad to have something to do besides watch the dubbed version of Jerry Bruckheimer's dual-hemisphere epic "Kangaroo Jack" -- especially because this means I get to show off my Mac's über-cool backlit keyboard to the Italian kid next to me.

I should really be more specific, I suppose -- about the bus, I mean. Because this isn't our first, nor is it our last. Margaret and I survived the last ascent from Carmen Pampa to La Paz in a bus, then met Mike for our bus to Copacabana (after saying goodbye to Ginger and singing that blasted Barry Manilow song more times than it ever could merit), then we herded ourselves onto one of a dozen seriously-crowded buses leaving Copacabana for Puno (a two-day strike at the Peru border had just been lifted so we were in the company of scores of disgruntled gringos -- thank goodness for Mike's titanium elbows) and then we somehow survived the most chaos I've seen in all my time in South America: busloads of passengers in Puno arriving, scrambling for seats on buses going in the right direction, nabbing said seats, running through the terminal to pay a poorly-understood embarkation tax, grabbing anything resembling a mid-afternoon snack (with their freshly-exchanged Peruvian cash) and then trying their best to settle in for the sometimes 7, sometimes 9 hour ride from Puno to Cusco. Tonight it looks like we'll make it in around 8 hours

Which gives the three of us about 4 hours to sleep before we hop on another bus: the bus to the trail head for our 5 day trek that takes us to Machu Picchu . . . eventually. But that's another post for another time. In case you've lost track, we're looking at about 17 hours of quality bus time in less than 48 hours. (And did I mention the 2 boat rides, totaling 3.5 hours?)

But we haven't only been in transit -- to prove it, here's a quickie photo montage (quicker to upload, aren't-I-so-clever) of our dinner view Tuesday night in Copacabana, the three of us on Isla del Sol, Margaret at the central door of the Temple of the Sun this morning, and the bus we're currently on this very minute. Now if only the roads in Peru had asphalt AND wifi . . .


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