Dear Family and Friends,

If you’re reading this email, it means that we made our flight from Lima back to the United States. We’re writing while drinking complimentary pisco sours (thanks, Priority Pass) in the Lima airport, and we’ll be high over the USA when this email sends.

I’m not sure who exactly smiled upon us during this Peruvian adventure, but someone did. We made it to Machu Picchu the day before the trains shut down. The Cusco Airport reopened two days before our departure, and we made our originally booked Cusco flight with no delays or changes. And now, our travels home are proceeding as smoothly as I could hope.

As you’ll read shortly, this has not been the case for everyone in Peru.

Although our departure occurred during the weekend calm period, strikes are anticipated to start again in Cusco today, Monday, December 19th. Strikes interrupt transportation in the city and may impact the airport. If you know someone in Peru, please advise them to leave as quickly and safely as possible, as the "political situation" is not forecasted to improve anytime soon.

​

---

​

Perry’s Travel Diary

First of all, this is what the blockades looked like

In our last email, we described our hike to Naupa Iglesia which unintentionally passed some of the roadblocks.

I didn’t photograph the local people out of concern for both their safety and mine, but you better believe that I had my camera on me for the rest.

Here's what the blockades looked like.

Neither of these blockades had any people near them when we passed by, and we were unbothered as we walked around.

Our departure

We decided to stick close to the B&B after our Naupa Iglesia hike. We did not need to cross paths with any more protesters, even if they were peaceful.

Despite the country’s chaos, our days stuck in Ollantaytambo were serene and routine: eat breakfast at 8:30 AM, lounge around the room and write, venture out for lunch and a walk, and finally grab some dinner. We were even invited to an afternoon barbecue at the B&B the first day the roads closed. Day-to-day life was pleasant, and Ollantaytambo is a charming place to spend a week.

Thursday (3 days until our departure)

On Thursday, we went for dinner in the main square. As we ate our Alpaca pizza, we noticed a couple of tourists wandering around. We asked if they needed help - they looked like grungy, lost backpackers who had just gotten off the Inca trail.

“Oh no,” they replied. “We’re just catching our taxi.”

We thought that was strange, as no one had left the town for nearly three days. All roads had been eerily quiet - or blocked.

Then a few more people joined them. Turned out they were all part of an Inca Trail tour group, and they were waiting for their van to pick them up. They shared a rumor that the blockades were being cleared and the Cusco airport might open the next day. Pete got one of their phone numbers and kept in touch via Whatsapp.

This experience repeated itself a few times during our days in Ollantaytambo and Cusco. Travelers that would normally keep to themselves were eager to share whatever lack of information we had with each other. We were flagged down by other tourists in the streets of Ollantaytambo and we leaned over each others’ restaurant tables. Usually, this kind of chattiness only occurs when no cell phone service is available, but at this point, the only requirement was a common language.

Nicol and Antonio, our B&B hosts, were in a similar info-sharing network. Each morning, they would call the drivers for road conditions and consult the Ollantaytambo locals’ Whatsapp group. It felt like everyone was conspiring to get the tourists home.

Friday (2 days until our departure)

On Friday, we heard that the Cusco airport opened at noon, and the first flight departed for Lima shortly thereafter. Our B&B host, Nicol, sent us an enthusiastic voice message with the news. Our friend from the square told us that Cusco was normal, with no protests, and they were headed to their plane. I opened up Flightradar24 and watched that first plane to Lima sail away in real time.

We celebrated, and it felt like the mood in Ollantaytambo started to lift.

We scheduled a private driver to take us to Cusco the next morning. We were advised by our host, Antonio, that it was best for us to leave Ollantaytambo at 4:00 AM. The blockades were usually cleared at night when the protesters slept and emergency services needed to be able to access the Sacred Valley towns.

“That way,” Antonio explained, “the driver can drop you off and make it back to Ollantaytambo before any protests start in the morning.” We understood.

It feels counterintuitive to be instructed to travel in the dead of night during an unrest situation, but our hotel in Cusco later confirmed that this was, indeed, the safest way.

(It is also common for protesters to back down on the weekend when everyone rests. Yes, it seems odd that protesters take rest days and evenings, but we can confirm that this held true. Protesting was a weekday business hours activity.)

We celebrated our last night in Ollantaytambo around Nicol and Antonio’s new fire pit on the terraced roof of the B&B. We drank around the fire like old friends. At this point, having spent 8 days at their hotel, we practically were.

Saturday (1 day until departure)

Our wake-up alarm rang too early. We loaded into David’s car on time and headed out under the cover of darkness.

The village was empty at that hour; the lights were on, but the doors were buttoned up tight. Not a soul sat in the square. The women selling food from street carts, the male restauranteurs, and the kids that played there with firecrackers* were all in bed.

*The kids were just having fun, but who gives elementary-age kids firecrackers during a political crisis?! They gave me a heart attack on more than one occasion despite being cute little buggers.

The roads in Peru aren’t great during the best of times, but David was an expert navigator. We drove past the remnants of the former blockades. The tree blocking the main road had been chopped and loaded into a truck. In other areas, rocks remained in the road; some were small enough to be carried by hand, but others had to have been rolled tediously. All were big enough to mess up a car if hit. David swerved to avoid them and the potholes.

When we arrived, Cusco was still asleep. No one was in the Plaza de Armas or near the grand main church.

Cusco is a large city with nearly 500,000 residents. The historic center has its charm, but it’s nowhere near as cute as Ollantaytambo’s Inca village. After our early wake-up call, Pete and I did not have the energy to fight the crowds or the gridlocked traffic to do any exploring. (We strongly recommend skipping Cusco and basing your future Machu Picchu trip out of Ollantaytambo.)

We met other tourists at our hotel who made it on a guided tour of the Sacred Valley ruins the same day, indicating they were able to drive all the roads during the daytime without encountering roadblocks. At this point, we knew the rest of our travels were going to be okay.

Sunday (Departure day)

No protests were planned for Sunday, so our hotel informed us that we could go to the airport at 10:30 AM - just 2.5 hours before our flight - rather than at 5 or 6 AM to avoid any protest-related road impacts. This was blessed news.

At the Cusco airport, taxis can no longer drive right up to the terminal. All passengers were dropped off on the main road outside the airport gate. We walked through the pedestrian entrance on our own, past a security guard. The check-in entrances were guarded by a handful of military men with riot shields, in case you had forgotten that Peru was in a state of emergency.

Our flight to Lima left on time. When the plane started to taxi, a bunch of passengers broke out clapping and cheering. I thought they were happy to be leaving Cusco; it turns out, Argentina had just won the World Cup. Priorities.

During the flight, we sat next to a woman with a fascinating story of how things are going in Aguas Calientes, Peru.

The Aguas Calientes nightmare

Pete noted in our last email that I have been thanking my lucky stars that I didn't book us an overnight in Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu.

For context: in order to reach Machu Picchu, you have two options. The first option is to walk in via the guided 3-4 day, 2-3 night Inca Trail. The second option is to take a train from either Cusco or Ollantaytambo, a 3-hour or 1.5-hour journey respectively, to Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu.

Train and foot are your only options for reaching Aguas Calientes. There are no roads whatsoever.

Due to the length of the train journey to Machu Picchu, many tourists will book just one or two nights here to rest up before continuing. Tour companies following this route advise their clients to pack light given the short duration of their stay and the limited space available on the train.

Can you see where this failed when the train shut down?

“We’re lucky,” I told Pete on Wednesday. “They’re going to run out of food up there. And I bet the tourists didn’t pack enough medication.”

Sure enough, CNN reported on Friday that’s exactly what was happening to roughly 300 stranded tourists.

Fast forward to our flight out of Cusco. Our seatmate, a lovely, 65-year-old Uruguayan woman, was one of the tourists who was stranded in Aguas Calientes on Tuesday. She expected a two-day trip; she ended up spending five before hiking two hours through the jungle to a road, where a van evacuated her group. The van then drove seven hours to reach Cusco at 10:00 PM, two hours after the 8:00 PM curfew started - and they managed to break a fuel line along the way. Thankfully, the van continued to run, and no one was bothered about the curfew.

There was only one doctor in Aguas Calientes to triage the tourists, who lined up to register with him. In the chaos and stress of the situation, one older adult - who had run out of her medication - forgot her own name. Not just the name of her prescription, mind you. Her own name. Our new friend comforted the woman and helped her calm down enough to be assisted.

Communication with the tourists lacked specificity. “Maybe they will try tomorrow,” she was told about the evacuation efforts. But tomorrow could mean tomorrow, the day after, or two days later. There was no real way of knowing.

Our seatmate made it to Cusco the night before our shared flight.

At this time, it sounds like there are still tourists in Aguas Calientes. Per the US Embassy, train service restarted on a limited section of tracks yesterday, transporting tourists to an area where they, too, are met by a van that will take them back to civilization.

If there’s a lesson to be learned here, make sure that your “light day pack” includes an ample supply of medications, both prescribed and over-the-counter, and some snacks. If you have any medical conditions, carry a printed list of your medications and pertinent information in both your native and the local language, if possible. You never know where you might get stuck.

The remainder of our flight was spent discussing our understanding of Peruvian democracy and its differences compared to the strong democracies in Uruguay and the United States. Our seatmate accurately noted that while the Peruvians seem calm, even dismissive, on the outside, there is real anger with their circumstances and extreme distrust of their government lying just beneath the surface.

The Sacred Valley largely supports former President Castillo, who came from a poor countryside town like his supporters - “one of us,” if you will. He was a change from Peru’s previous leaders. But that same President has now been accused of corruption and other very serious crimes, so in the words of one of our Ollantaytambo-native fast friends from last week, “I don’t know what to think.”

​

---

​

Pete’s Travel Diary

Another Side Quest

While many good and bad stories end at a train station (provided the train even reaches the station), the day after our journey to Naupa Iglesia, we were exploring the village shops of Ollantaytambo when we were jovially greeted by none other than our trusty canine companion, Side-Quest. Despite a 1.5-hour hike between the towns of Pachar and Ollantaytambo, and our scent being ostensibly covered by a thorough rain storm, Side-Quest found us again in the village square.

He stretched out from his sunning spot next to a shop, so as to limber up for an energetic greeting. He then proceeded to jump and play for a moment before we carried on our way. Side-Quest followed us again, this time to a restaurant and a few shops. His feet were still tender from all of his adventurings up the rocky outcroppings of Naupa Iglesia. I noticed, however, that the swelling to his infected paw was much reduced, though not entirely remedied. The bandage he must have lost or pulled off along the way.

Side-Quest followed us to our B&B where I again completed the ritual of cleansing his foot, applying more antibiotic ointment, and re-covering the foot to keep him from licking it for a time. He rested at the B&B door stoop for a time before deciding some new tourists passing by were worth following.

On our last day wandering Ollantaytambo, we encountered him one last time. He was walking almost normally and with more energy. His foot was now winning the battle against the infection that had previously rendered the skin between his toes an angry, soupy mess. I had kept some more antibiotic ointment in my pocket in anticipation and applied another layer to his foot. The swelling was entirely gone. He treated us like old friends and wrestled me in the street with puppy-like energy he did not have prior. Perry and I went to dinner and our friend made his way back towards one of the shops with more kick in his step.

In a town with precious little veterinary access, and even fewer able to pay for it, the only mercy to be found was that which we brought with us. I found this ending to be more satisfying than our tearful train station departure, which seemed like a cliche movie ending.

I can’t recommend others do as I did; in fact, I discourage it. It is a high risk to approach or even pet an unfamiliar dog. Lots of street dogs will snap unexpectedly at one another, some even holding grudges and chasing other dogs off, and you would be wise to not find yourself in the middle of it.

I’m not you, though, and therefore do not have to listen to myself. I am more than capable of ignoring my own wisdom when my heart tells me what is right, and I am thoroughly knowledgeable about what to do if my actions don’t pan out.

Regardless, Side-Quest remains a highlight in our already joyous adventures in Peru. If you stumble upon him in your own travels, tell him we said hola, even though he won’t understand what you are saying, as he does not seem to comprehend any language other than kindness (including Spanish).

​

---

​
So with that, Pete and Perry are back in the United States, Side-Quest has new tourists to follow, and we all have Christmas to celebrate next week. Peru still has its problems to solve, but I think this is as happy an ending as this story is going to get right now.

On a tactical note, we’re sending an email tomorrow with seven tools we used during this emergency situation that you need for your own travels. We’ll send our Southeast Asia conclusion after Christmas.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Subscribe to Pete and Perry's Emails!

​

All our love,

Pete and Perry

​
​