Cusco: Both Beautiful and Frightening

A fore warning for this blog entry; parents may find some aspects of this entry distressing, however it is important to keep in mind that all said and done, the three of us remain in one piece (each), and that has to count for something.

As our bus rolled in to Cusco I awoke violently choking on my own saliva. A vigourous coughing fit ensued, until an elderly lady in front of me stood from her seat turned to me and held out a grottelated tissue. I tried amongst the spluttering to give her a quizzical look, but most likely failed. Clearly a little aggravated with me, she said `there´s a cough lolly in there.` I tried to tell her I was choking, and a cough lolly probably wouldnt help, but she looked at me coldly, and said ´I haven´t touched it. Take it. It will help.´ So I took her grottelated tissue, unwrapped the cough lolly, and obligingly put it in my mouth as she stared me down. She sat down, and I rested my head against the window trying to supress my cough as tears welled in my eyes due to the water still in my lungs. To take my mind off the discomfort I took in the sights of the city we were entering and my urge to cough and splutter eventually passed, as such an urge always does. At first the city seemed quite unimpressive, dirty unpaved streets, unfininshed houses (very common in South America as you dont have to pay taxes tif you live in an unfinished house), and many homeless. However, soon the scenery turned greener, the houses older and grander, the roads cobbled, and we found ourselves in the heart of a most amazing city. Incan houses still standing, generally with Spanish additions of second and third floors. The result; a gorgeous city that could belong in any European country.
Our group was to split in two the following day, for two days anyhow. Half would advance into the jungle for a couple of days, the other half would remain in Cusco to relax and take in the sights. Needless to say the jungle goers were keen to have a big night in Cusco to make the most of their brief visit. And so we all prepared for a night on the town.
I was a little tired, and thus only intended on having a couple before turning in. God`s honest truth I did only that, but after my fourth drink something very unexpected happened. I suddenly felt incredibly drunk. Now I know we are in high altitude, but we had been in higher altitude for some weeks, and I can usually put away five or six drinks without beginning too feel intoxicated, so this was most unusual. I stumbled down some stairs towards the bathroom of the club we were at, but did not make it. I collapsed on the floor of the lobby, a couple of people helped me up, and I realised then that I desperately needed to get back to the Hotel. I made my way back up the stairs to signal to at least one of the girls I was going. I caught Ness` eye across the crowded dance floor and waved. She signaled for me to wait a second, but I desperately needed to get out of the club, as the sure signs of imminent vommitting were well and truly present at this stage.
I descended the stairs a second time, flung myself out onto the street and briefly scouted for a suitable place to vomit. I clearly failed in this venture as the place I settled for was most definitely not suitable for vommitting, it was a grand pillar of at least five hundred years, constructed under the rule of the proud and masterful Incan Empire. After the first episode of vommittting passed, I managed perhaps ten steps to the next grand pillar before hurling again in what must have been a most offensive gesture to any one who felt any morsel of pride towards the the once great Incan Empire.
After this I cannot remember what happened. My hotel was perhaps a twenty minute walk away from the club we were at, which included many dark and slightly dodgy alleys. Keeping in mind I had only just arrived in Cusco it was a miracle I managed to make it back to the Hotel unharmed. Before waking confused and groggy in my room the following morning I can only remember one thing. I cannot remember arriving to the Hotel, I cannot remember getting into bed, but I can remember crawling up a set of stairs in a dark alley wondering how the hell I was going to find the energy to make it back.
Awaking the following morning felt like I had skipped a scene on a DVD. I could make certain deductions on what had happened based on the information that was being presented to me at the time, but somethings I had well and truly missed and would not recover without that vital piece of footage. I could for instance incur that I had spent some portion of the night vommitting in the bathroom, but could not work out how I had managed to communicate to the night porter who I was, or what room I was residing in. As I had no room mate, I could not be enlightened.
That day was a slow day for me. I felt pretty rough. The girls said they had looked for me as soon as I left the previous night but couldn´t find me, and assumed I had gone home.
The only reasonable explanation for this night in my opinion is that one of my drinks was spiked. I say this because I rarley forget anything when I´m out drinking especially after only four drinks. Also we heard that guys were regularly targeted by drink spiking in Cusco, escorted back to their Hotels, and stripped of all their valuables. Luckily I had all mine, but I do put this down to luck, and luck alone. Somehow, I must have managed to leave the club wihtout detection, and avoided mugging on the way home. Our guide doesn´t think it likely my drink was spiked, but he is a proud Peruvian, and perhaps underestimates the dangers of this city.
Regardless, it was a lucky escape, but an escape nonetheless. And another valuable travelling lesson learned in which we came out relatively unscathed. So no amount of frantic emails from concerned parents will further teach me to keep a closer eye on my drinks, I´m already on to it.

The following day we did something really cool. We went white water rafting. It took a lot of convincing to get the girls to come along, and when the safety chats at the beginning of the day, both girls looked positively horrified, a visble shade of green. Sarah approached me afterwards and said ´Why are we paying ten dollars to die?´
Their attitude soon changed when we finally got on the water, it was lots of fun and the views of the mountains alongside the river were spectacular. Half way through we stopped at a bridge ten metres above the rapids, and our guide asked us who wanted to jump off it. We all did, even Sarah although she needed to wrk up a bit of courage. The bridge looked much taller once we were on top of it, and the rapids much wilder. I didn´t think about it too much and jumped over the railing second in our group. the rapids were strong, but I easily swam to the bank where our boats were. Ness jumped in gung ho but forgot to swim for a bit and almost missed the landing. Sarah gingerishly attempted to mount the railing, but required assistance. When she finally bombed off on her own accord she didn´t bother swimming and when she emerged and let a rescue kayak bring her ashore. Apon questioning later, she thought that was what you were meant to do.
Rafting continued, and in our final violent rapid I nearly fell in. Turning to tell Ness how close a call it was, I found it had been even closer for her, she was no longer in the boat at all. I then saw her two little hands holding onto the rope off the side of the raft. Sarah and I proceeded to pull her into the boat. She landed on top of me laughing hysterically, as only Ness does.
It was a really fun day, but had dire consequences for Ness and I that would prove most compromising. Ness caught a bug from swallowing river water. How that affected me you shall find out in the next blog regarding the Inca Trail.
Adios.