Peru Pictures III

And a few beach pics to make you jealous... Unless of coarse, you are Richie and live in Hawaii :)

1 Obviously enjoying the sun in my mu mu (sexy)
2 Vicious coconuts
3 Enjoying the bungalows in Mancora
4 View from the breakfast place Green Eggs and Ham- quite delicious seeing that we devoured EVERYTHING on the menu
5 View from the first place we stayed; the balcony hung over the ocean (in what seemed like a very unsafe, yet scenic manner)

Peru Pictures II

Some more delightful pictures for your viewing pleasure:
1 The result of too much rum...please note the clever use of bandannas
2 Jelly fruit cup stand at the massive market
3 The ever delicious (or so I was told) testicle of sheep- doesn't that woman look pleased
4 Soon to be bacon
5 Tallest Irish pub in the world

Peru Pictures

They have arrived!!!! I uploaded some pictures for all to see. Since the optical zoom on my photo taker was not as advanced as Sergio's, I will add to the collection in the near future. The anticipated photo being the infamous guinea pig- who introduced intestinal malfunctions (bitch). Disfruta!

And so here we have (from the top):
1 Me, in a lovely green ensemble- At what our tour guide called "the facebook photo spot".
2 Wayna Picchu, the second mountain we conquered
3 Serg and I (As I cling to him for dear life) on the edge of WP looking onto MP.
4 The "Sacred Stone" that I accidentally touched and got yelled at by many people in many languages
5 Coca tea...Which we drank, chewed, and considered putting in sandwiches for "flavor"

Muy Cuy BAD

In my extraordinary adventure to Peru, I made it a personal mission to accomplish a few goals. Climb Machu Picchu. Check. Sleep in a room crawling with Geckos and not cry. Check. Eat Guinea pig. CHECK!

As I mentioned previously, Serg and I were nearing the end of our adventures in South America. We had been to Lima, capitol of Peru, and experienced their Rum and sunsets. We ventured inland to Cusco and completed a marvelous journey to the top of Machu Picchu and back. We climbed (via first class bus) north to Mancora, or yet Tropical Paradise. As we sat in the bus terminal cafe awaiting our final hours before departing to the Homeland, it dawned on us-

We had NOT yet consumed the Peruvian delicacy- The cute and fuzzy pet in The States, consequently named fluffy, snowball, or Marvin. And when I casually mentioned to my traveling companion that we were to miss the bus on said conquest, the kibosh was put down. We WERE to taste this mysterious creature. Serg immediately abandoned me, and upon his return (3 minutes later) had Peruvian dollars in hand and declared to have a plan!!!

Since we had nearly 12 hours before our air bus was to chauffeur us home, Serg and I had planned to consume alcoholic beverages for the majority of the remaining time. The plan differed a bit, thankfully, and thus brought us to our destination- a 4 star restaurant where the preferred plate was the one and only Guinea Pig.

***Side Note*** A gentleman we met at a hostel in Lima told us about a small town in Peru where they hold an annual guinea pig competition. In this event, people dress the animals up in trousers and hats, shirt and little shoes. The winner (in which I am unclear as to how the decision is made, and on what components it is decided that the GP wins) is declared safe, and can live as a pet while the others are stripped of their tiny clothing, fur, and ultimately, their dignity and thrown to the kitchen; where their destiny awaits to land on some foreigners plate at a 4 star restaurant.

Though I was aware at some point on this trip I would have the 'privlage' of tasting such a 'treat,' I definitely found it necessary to have a big glass of wine pre pig. And after some bread, an appetizer, some more wine, and a brief mental 'pump-me-up-pep-talk,' it arrived. There it was, all intact, like someone had just put it in the deep fryer whole, complete with arms, legs, HEAD, teeth, claws, and even some hairs that hadn't singed off. Yes, I would have been more than happy to pass over this meal, and indulge in a burger, chicken sandwich, or even a bowl of sludge, however, I attached my balls and chowed down on this little monster.

Maybe it's cliche to say it tasted like chicken, but it did. All of the giblets were intact and were not pleasing to the eye or stomach (as Serg claimed, seeing that I was brave, but not that brave), and I concluded that there was not much meat on the bones. I didn't eat too much, because let's face it, it was guinea pig. I am indeed happy I tried this interesting dish, unfortunately, my stomach was not....

...Blasted GP found revenge on Serg and I by blessing us both with explosive, not to mention frequent bathroom visits. It is normal for me to have anything and everything upset my sensitive, pussy of a tummy- but Serg can eat ANYTHING! Meat on a stick, done! 3 week old wedding cake, consumed! Raw fish from a side stand in the slums of Peru, completed! Grocery store cooked Chorizzo, vanished. (And I too ate the Chor y Pan, and unlike Steel Stomach Serg, consequently became nauseous). The Cuy (Spanish for GP) recked us both. Being that Serg ate the majority of the Cuy, he felt worse. It is not to say that I didn't have my own problems, and though I enjoy speaking about every bout of bowl movements, I will spare you the gruesome details- Let's just say it's really and truly BAD!

Finally, I must add that when laying on the beach a few days ago, I was nearly impaled by a momentum gaining, free falling coconut. I was on my stomach, tanning my ass, if you will, and I felt a large splash. Assuming some drunkard spilled their drink on me, I semi rolled over to see a not quite halved fruit emitting juice all over the sand. To think, If I had been a foot in the other direction, I could have been killed and spared all toilets in every facility I have visited in 48 hours. I could have copped out on the 'oprotunity' to eat Cuy!

Salud!

Thanks for Everything, Peru

Our final day in Peru has arrived.

Sad we are to leave not only a wonderful vacation on Tropical Paradise, but more to return to our designated responsibilities. We have experienced every mode of transportation on this trip from planes to trains, from water to land- we even rode in a rickshaw! (No, Kramer was not present). Lazy days in the sun caused a tremendous sunburn, (for the white girl), and a lack of mosquito nets caused for some itchy (hopefully bot fly-less) wounds. Nevertheless, the burn will bronze and the bites will vanish, and the mere fact that I was on a beach while the home land begins to freeze wass all worth it.

We had same day fresh fish, which to say the least, was incredible. I´ve never had tuna melt in my mouth. And I thought it was fancy when canned- dolphin free, hopefully.

I think i´ve learned more ( or at least I´ll tell people I have) and decided some things:

Pisco sours, like mentioned before, are not for me. Though I may apply 90 SPF sunscreen, (all over my body, fogging my contact lenses and everything) it does not seem to matter- let´s face it, I´m white. The Yankees (of New York) do in fact, rule all. Moving to Texas may not be THAT bad. One day, perhaps soon, solid poops will reappear. Food here is wonderful, and fresh; and even though I want to eat as much of it as possible, my stomach does not enjoy when I try and do so. I can endure almost anything, I mean c´mon, I spent close to 40 hours of my life on a bus with PISS LEG.

Finally, after our (yes, cutting it close) 20 hour bus ride back to Lima, we soon too quickly board a plane to the states- just in time for Thanksgiving!

Ps, Serg shaved his chest for the beach :)

New Mexico bound, thanks for everything, Peru!

Piss off First Class

Post Machu Picchu I told you that Serg and I had planned a hopeful trip to the tropics. Well...we made that trip, my friends- and after what seemed like years on the bus, (including wild night rides at 956 MPH on dirt roads on London sized buses) Which really added out to about 40 hours, we arrived in Paradise!

Not of course, with out putting in our (my) dues.

The night before we left to our dream land it was Señor Sergio´s birthday. The big 2-9. And after yanking his chain (and I swear that´s it) all day about being old, (seeing as my youth has only brought me to a blossoming 23), we went out to celebrate. A fabulous time we had in Cusco- listened to live music, and trying every bars finest mojitos. We danced, we sang, (the Yankees had won the world series), there may have been a shove or two to a drunk girl (skank), and off to bed I was around 3 ish......Serg schlepped himself to bed about 5ish.

A tad hung over day later, we boarded our first bus ride. Naturally, we purchased the first class tickets, seeing that we are ¨Proud ´Mericans¨ who don´t travel among the common people. ......I believe the saying goes, ¨happy as clams¨....and that we were, in first class.

I had been preparing to Tylenol PM myself into a blissful slumber for 17 hours. Our 3 hours so far had been going well, with plush seats and room to spare, a scrumptious meal, (which we were served before previously mentioned common people), and the works. I felt GREAT! I had even brushed my teeth...in my seat...with the help of a water bottle and another as the ´rinse-and-spit´ bottle. Assuming a pre sleep urination was needed before I zonked out, I got up. Climbing over Serg in the coach cabin of the double-decker bus may have posed a problem- but in first class, psh, I practically had room to do the splits. I exited our royal quarters and entered the loo. (Lue? lou?...toilet). It became utterly clear that this room was not in cohorts with the first class facade. In fact, to say the least, it seemed as if this embarrassment for a bathroom belonged, not in a bus, rather on the side of a construction site in Oklahoma being occupied by individuals who lack civilization. Literally. Perhaps you can imagine an outhouse...at a camp site...being utilized by aging blind...dogs!!!

Normally, I would have sooner peed my pants before stepping foot in such a disgusting mess- this evening in particular though, I was feeling confident, bold. Please keep in mind how difficult it is to hover for women, especially in a moving bus. I managed quite well. Didn´t even pee on the seat. I was flabbergasted about my triumph, looking at the wreck of a toilet, wondering how anyone else could perform such an immaculate whizz, and then I had to make a decision....Flush or no flush? This is not like a normal potty where one is faced with the remnants of day old Mojito, coca- cola, and truck loads of water mingling in a bowl, it´s more airplane quality. It just kind of disappears, like magic. The only reason you flush on a plane is because that´s what you´re supposed to do............

And because that´s what you´re supposed to do.............

I DID......

BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In less that a second, I went from Courtney dry pants, to Shitty Soaked Leg!!! I was mortified to see that my leg, shin and all, was SOAKED.IN.PISS.

What The Fuck?!?!?!?!

- and this was not just a cute spray. We´re talking knee to ankle, with parts S.O.A.K.E.D! In Pee...remnants of day old mojito, coca- cola, and truck loads of water. The worst part is that it may not have all been mine!

Pissed as a bitch in heat (almost literally), I stormed out of said trash-can-of-a-bathroom and back to first class. When I entered, everything seemed crappy. I mean really, what is first class on a bus, anyway...it´s a bus. The once plush sea-foam colored pleather seats now seemed the color of vomit. The chairs appeared so close together that I could only possibly do the splits with my fingers... AND EVERYTHING SMELLED OF URINE.

Three hours into a 40 hour bus ride and I get peed on...Fuck Me!

Crawling back over Serg to my seat, was not so delightful according to him. I reeked of pee.

Silver lining: After arriving in Lima (Our half way point), I changed pants, washed my leg, and silently cursed all toilets. From Lima to Mancora we rode with the common folk. My piss leg was a disgrace to VIP everywhere and they would no longer have us. (or there were no more seats available for purchase)...and hours later (16 to be precise), we arrived.

Though the trip to Peru´s version of Fuji began with piss leg- I have since scorched my shins with deliciously warm days on the beach...complete with sand in places that sand should NEVER be. I have been living in a bikini, drinking fresh coconut juice (quite the laxative) and sleeping to the sound of the ocean.

...I´d even consider taking a back splash via shit-bowl again if I was guaranteed a week in what I will now call my Tropical Eden!

Cheers!

Good day!

Sorry to all i promised up to date blogs, I´ve been busy drinking rum, traveling on buses...oh, and climbing Machu Picchu...you know, the usual!

I have yet to try cuy al horno, or oven cooked guinea pig, but worry not, all in good time. I did however chow down on some street meat the other night. (No, no you pervs) It was pretty much greasy cow on a stick topped off with a hunk of potato, the same way you would top the Christmas tree with an angel or star. And for my Jewish friends and sister who don´t get that, get a little google search engine going on that.

Post our 21 hour bus ride from Lima to Cusco where I had insta-gas and Serg smelled of a bottle and a 1/2 of rum, we arrived at the gateway town of MP. So far, I have decided that Pisco Sour´s arn´t for me, and Peru has a ton of Alpacas. In order to save money for our next venture up north, we began cooking for ourselves. The feature of the evening...Raman Noodles! Oriental Flavor, naturally!

.......................

As for MP, lets just say it was more than amazing. Feel free to be jealous. Besides my mini melt down (which included me refusing to speak Spanish in order to get my way and haggle/lie about being students for student priced tickets to MP) all went well. Peruvians are exceptionally nice considering they put up with a ton of drunk tourists, and everything has been great thus far...including the weather. We were prepared for cold and rain and wind. If you can remember, I spent my last few days at REI with a chub looking at all of the wonderous water proof items I could (and did) purchase. Since days have been warm and evenings just barley cool, i was thinking about returning my 80 dollar rain coat upon my return. Though my better judgement (and by this, i do mean Serg) told me to pack my jacket for MP. My thoughts were that my non h2o proof jacket was MUCH cutier and would look more fabolous when i posted my blog photos...vain?!?...I think so!


And in being to vain, I picked out the right outfit for said photos. I showed up to This Peruvian wonder of the world with my coat (rain proof, thank goodness) tied around my waist, my magnificent REI (complete with flouresent orange rape/ save-my-life whistle) backpack buckeled aound my waist (Oh yes, above the big knot created by the arms of my jacket) AND around my chest. (Easy access to the whistle). I completed my charming look with my NY Yankees hat...just to scream Tourist!!!!!!!!

Enough about myself and to MP, After God saw my ensamble, he laughed and refused to let the sun shine and topped it off with a bunch of rain. Despite it being overcast, we managed some incredible pictures that cannot bring justice to the real deal. The tour was full of information, the climb wasn´t too bad (seeing as we worked out 3 times before the trip), and we even met some great people.

Since I practically forced Serg to get up at 250 am with me in order to be in line for the bus at 4 which left at 530 when MP doesn´t open until 6, we still were pretty energized. We even got tix to adajecent mountain called Wyanna Picchy(?). They only allow 400 people up per day and i was defuckingtermined to get them. (Especially since we paid full price for enterence tix. Clearly Serg´s ID from 1998 when he still had a full head of hair and my 2004 ID when I was a blond virgin didn´t make the cut.) I decided I was tired 3 1/2 hours into our trip and didn´t find it necessary to climb the 2nd mountain. Serg did not agree. He decided that since we awoke at a time when we should still have been out that we were going to climb the shit out of that mountain...And we did, all 2000 and some odd feet of it. And this wasn´t a cute windy lets not get dirty hike. This was a huff and puff, grunt at times, UGLY, steep, straight up 2000 feet climb. We did it up and down, managed to have lunch at the top, and take some cool pics all in 2 and a half hours. Champs?!? Damn Straight.


..........And for that, and because on the tour, I ACCIDENTLY touched the holy stone of energy and got yelled at, on our way out, as we sifted through hords of toursits with big white socks, waterbottle holders, and bad Machu Picchu enscribed hats, our jelly legs couldn´t find our way out of The Inkan Maze. I cried as God again laughed, and then threw some rain on us.

FYI, It was all out of this world, and though we slept for what felt like 39 hours afterwards, I´d do it again...maybe in a month or so, but still again!

Finally, just to let everyone know, We´ll be spending some time in Mancora. It´s up North. It´s sunny and warm....Oh yeah, It´s on a beach!!!!!!!!!

Enjoy your winter friends, I´m going to find my razor!!!


XOXOXO