THE BIG PICTURE
Getting to and from Peru takes a while. Getting around while in Peru also takes a while.
We flew from Denver at about 4:00 p.m. to Miami and then overnight to Lima (The airport is in Callao, about 10 miles to the west on the Pacific). From Lima we flew an hour to Cusco in the highlands at about 11,000' and finally the last leg of 45 minutes to Puerto Maldonado, a town of about 30,000 situated on the Rio Madre de Dios near the borders of Brasil and Bolivia. After three days at the Lake Sandoval Lodge in the Amazon rain forest, we returned to Cusco where we explored the city (of about 250,000) and the Sacred Valley for four days. A train took us up the Urubamba River to Kilometer 88 where we began our four day hike on the Inca Trail (called the most popular hike in the world) to Machu Picchu, the most visited attraction in South America. After two days at the Inca city, we returned to Cusco by train and bus for a day of R & R. On our final day we flew to Lima for a city tour and farewell dinner before boarding the plane for Dallas–Ft. Worth and on to Denver.
GREAT TRIP #5
Judy and I have been fortunate to have traveled a good bit during our 40 years of marriage: most of the US (we have missed North Dakota); Canada, Mexico and the Caribbean; parts of Europe; Australia and New Zealand. Looking back, we have enjoyed what truly have been, for us, four Great Trips: the UK and Ireland (1982), rafting the Grand Canyon (1995), Mexico’s Copper Canyon (1998), and Australia / New Zealand / Fiji (1999). Our two weeks in Peru, particularly hiking the Inca Trail and discovering for ourselves Machu Picchu, has been an experience that we consider Great Trip #5.
“In the variety of its charms and the power of its spell, I know of no place in the world which can compare with it. Not only has it great snow peaks looming above the clouds more than two miles overhead, gigantic precipices of many–colored granite rising sheer for thousands of feet above the foaming, glistening, roaring rapids; it has also, in striking contrast, orchids and tree ferns, the delectable beauty of luxurious vegetation, and the mysterious witchery of the jungle.” (Hiram Bingham)
Picchu is a destination that Judy has talked about for years. Our first
thought was to sign on with Elderhostel which makes several trips there
each year. Two years before, we attended a slide show on Machu Picchu presented
by Cindy Sonderup, the owner of Changes in
Latitude, a travel store in Boulder. She had made the trip several
times and her slides were
excellent. More important to us, the trip she described involved hiking the Inca Trail
in order to enter Machu Picchu. She explained that, in addition to all
we would experience along the hike, the benefit of this was the opportunity
to spend more time at the site, especially in the evening and at sunrise
when there were not the crowds who were bused in each morning and who were
bused out mid–afternoon. We would, of course, have to camp, sleep on the
ground, carry a day pack, have the benefit of guides and porters (to carry
the tents, equipment, propane tanks, etc.). It seemed like exactly what
we were looking for in a trip: new places, exercise, and a group leader
like Cindy, who was organized and great fun to be with. While we couldn’t
go in 2000, we put ourselves on the list for 2001.
Additional benefits of the trip with Changes in Latitude were the small size of the group (13 plus Cindy), the range of ages (12–65), and all from Colorado, most from Boulder County (which turned out to be a plus). Cindy’s selection of local guides was perfect and, because she went with us, we knew she would do everything possible to see that we had a great time doing all the things that had made the trip a good one for her. And she did. We had a terrific time. Group size and compatibility among trip members are essentials, but the key is a group leader who understands why people travel and how to get the most out of a trip. Cindy is first rate!
SOME (FAIRLY) BRIEF HISTORICAL FOOTNOTES
The history and culture of the group known today as “the Incas” is derived from myth, new agers, Spanish historians, oral traditions, and a variety of artifacts the most remarkable of which are the ruins of cities, roads, buildings, and other signs that their empire was wealthy and far–reaching. At its height, the Incas claimed dominion over a strip of land along the west coast of South America that extended from Colombia over 2,400 miles to southern Chile and Argentina, far larger than the empires of Alexander or the Aztecs. Though there were several important cities, the Inca capital was Cusco (Qosco), Quechua for “the navel,” the center of the Inca Empire.
The ancestors of the Incas migrated into the Sacred Valley in the thirteenth century under legendary Manco Capac and established the city of Cusco. They consolidated their hold over the region for nearly two hundred years. It was the fifth of these rulers (there were 13 in all), Inca Roca, who initially took the title “Inca,” or “emperor.”
The domain of the Incas remained small until, in the 15th century, Yupanqui, a son of the Inca Viracocha, and a small cohort of warriors routed an attempted invasion by an army of Chancas. Although his father still lived and favored another son for the succession, the people acclaimed the bold young prince as their new ruler who took the name “Pachacuti.” Beginning in 1438, Pachacuti resolved to rebuild Cusco as a lasting monument to Inca glory and a ceremonial center. As he expanded his empire outward from Cusco, he built an immense stone fortress called Sacsahuaman on the heights above the city. By the time of his death, Pachacuti and his kin had expanded the empire in all directions, earning it the Quechua name “Tahuantinsuyu,” the Four Quarters of the World. His son, Tupa Inca Yupanqui (“the Unforgettable One”) continued the expansion, more than doubling the size of the empire (approximately 1471–1493). His successor, Huayna Capac, expanded the empire to its greatest extent.
In 1525, Inca Huayna Capac died of smallpox, a disease brought by the Spanish invaders to the New World. Although the Spanish had explored only the northern fringes of Inca territory at this time, the disease they had brought with them was already spreading, decimating the Indian population. The efficient Inca communication system proved to be Huayna Capac’s undoing: the chasqui (messenger) who brought the Inca news of the appearance of the white men and their new disease also brought the virus itself.
Huayna Capac had designated his son Huascar as his heir. When Huascar was invested as Inca in Cusco, his brother Atahuallpa had stayed behind in the northern capital of Quito, sending gifts south to Huascar. The newly invested Inca, however, cut off the noses of his brother’s ambassadors, making it clear to Atahuallpa that any loyalty to his brother would be similarly rewarded. Years of bloody warfare between the brothers eventually ensued. Eventually, Atahuallpa’s army set a trap for Huascar, captured him, sacked Cusco, and executed Huascar.
Rumors of rich kingdoms and gilded rulers began to reach the Spaniards soon after they reached the New World. Cortez’s conquest of Mexico in 1519 raised the level of greed and excitement to fever pitch, inspiring numerous other expeditions to various parts of the New World. Between 1522–1533, starting in the north, Francisco Pizzaro made three expeditions of exploration and conquest motivated, like all Spaniards coming to the new world, by the Three Gs: Gold, God, and Glory. His tiny army of fewer than 150 men subdued an empire of an estimated 10,000,000 people through stealth, dishonesty, infectious diseases, Inca naiveté and internal political turmoil—and guns! It took Pizzaro nearly 40 years to eradicate the empire, but in 1572, the last Inca, Thupaq Amaru who led an unsuccessful rebellion against the Spanish, was executed in the main square in Cusco, bringing to a final end one of the most powerful and influencial—and amazing—groups of people to have lived.
Today, when Incas are mentioned, the first image is that of Machu Picchu, the city built in just 30 years and abandoned before the Spanish conquest and presumably never explored until 1911 when Yale/Harvard scholar Hiram Bingham was shown the long–rumored “Lost City” by a local Quechua:
morning of July 24th dawned in a cold drizzle. Arteaga (a local farmer)
shivered and seemed inclined to stay in his hut. I offered to pay him well
if he showed me the ruins. He demurred and said it was too hard a climb
for such a wet day. But when he found I was willing to pay him a sol, three
or four times the ordinary daily wage, he finally agreed to go. When asked
just where the ruins were, he pointed straight up to the top of the mountain.
No one supposed that they would be particularly interesting. And no one
cared to go with me.”
Accompanied only by Seargeant Carrasco (Bingham’s interpreter) and Arteaga, Bingham left the camp around 10 am. After a short while the party crossed a bridge so unnerving that the intrepid explorer was reduced to crawling across it on his hands and knees. From the river they climbed a precipitous slope until they reached the ridge at around midday.
Here Bingham rested at a small hut where they enjoyed the hospitality of a group of campesinos. They told him that they had been living there for about four years and explained that they had found an extensive system of terraces on whose fertile soil they had decided to grow their crops. Bingham was then told that the ruins he sought were close by and he was given a guide, the 11 year old Pablito Alvarez, to lead him there.
announced his “discovery” in articles and photographs published for the
National Geographic Society and other publications, returned at least one
other time to excavate and clean the vegetation from the principle areas,
and later went into politics and business. He died in 1956.
THE RAINFOREST / LAKE SANDOVAL
When our plane touched down in Puerto Maldonado, we hesitated to leave the plane, expecting the worst humidity and heat and bugs. We were, after all, deep in the heart of the southern region of the great Amazon basin. Puerto Maldonado sits isolated on the banks of the muddy Rio Madre de Dios which, like hundreds of other rivers on the east slope of the Andes, eventually makes its way to the great Amazon and the Atlantic Ocean.
To our relief and delight, the temperature was in the 70s, the humidity light (at most 40%), and not a bug in sight. Of course it was winter in Peru, but more important, we landed in the middle of a “cold spell” that would last for the three days of our stay.
We were bused from the airport to the river, boarded a long, narrow “canoe” with a 55–hp outboard motor, traveled about 45 minutes out of town to a “landing” where we climbed the dirt bank to the top, hiked about two miles into the jungle to a spot where a channel had been cut connecting the trail through a swamp with Lake Sandoval. Small canoes took us through the swamp and a mile or so across the lake to a real dock where we climbed the stairs to the lodge and our rooms. Much like other jungle lodges, the accommodations were clean, comfortable and no–frill rooms with a private bath and hot water on demand; screens everywhere (including the ceiling which was open to the other 15 or so rooms in our wing); and electricity generated from 6–10 am, 12–1 pm, and 6–10 pm. Our beds were covered all around with mosquito netting, but we didn’t really need them during our time there.
Meals were served in the lodge’s main building that adjoined the two wings of rooms. Food was local and delicious (e.g., our first meal, lunch, featured chicken and rice wrapped and steamed in banana leaves in addition to soup and dessert).
We met our local guide, Javier, at lunch and spent the afternoon quietly boating on the lake in search of birds (vultures, egrets, anhingas, orapendula, herons, parrots, macaws, kingfishers, nighthawks, among others), caimans (saw only their eyes and then just as red dots at night when the flashlights struck them), monkeys (howlers, capuchins, squirrels), giant otters, turtles, and bats.
Our routine was to get up at 5:00 am for canoeing around the lake, breakfast, a hike along one of the trails on the grounds of the lodge for either tree and animal identification or to learn about medicinal plants. After lunch was generally free time due to the anticipated heat of the day (though we usually went out in the canoe on our own). A late afternoon/early evening group canoe ride around the lake was followed by one of the best times of the day: a shower followed drinks together in the main lodge (usually wine or cold beer, but no pisco sours since there was no ice available) and a late dinner.
One variation in our routine was an early morning canoe ride and hike at dawn to a spot in the jungle Javier knew about where macaws by the hundreds gather each morning. It was loud and busy with birds getting in each others’ faces, competing for a particular branch or place on a limb. At about 7:15, they all get some unseen signal and fly off in family groups to feed all day.
Lake Sandoval was an excellent place for photography: animals, trees, different light conditions and water to reflect everything back on itself. There is a quietness about the place, a peacefulness that I think we all appreciated after airport, traffic, airplanes, etc. By our last day, the temperature began to climb to its normal warmth so that two ice cold beers before lunch did not seem out of place.
Our experience here was very reminiscent of our visit to Selva Verde Lodge in Costa Rica: the setting was identical in many ways—comfortably rustic, lush vegetation, and lots of exotic plants and birds (plus lots of butterflies at Selva Verde). Both were very much like Belize, Australia, and areas we’ve visited in Mexico leading us to suspect that rain forests, perhaps everywhere, have lots in common.
Beginning our 16–day trip in this location was a good idea. We’d spent nearly 16 hours on planes, buses, and canoes, and we all needed to slowly stretch our muscles, not have to deal with big city stress or high altitude (that would come later), and get to know each other in a relaxing atmosphere. The group of 14 is very congenial, comfortable, considerate, and uncomplaining. We would get along famously for the next two weeks!
CUSCO AND THE SACRED VALLEY
There are reminders of the Incas throughout the city of Cusco. When the Spanish arrived in 1533 it was a city as modern as most any in the world; within a few brief years, churches were built from (and on) Inca walls and temples in a concentrated effort to destroy the old gods and create a Spanish colonial town on the ruins of the Inca capital. The cathedral of Cusco (shown on the left and below) faces the Plaza de Armas in the center of the city. In 1983 it was, along with Machu Picchu, the first of ten locations in Peru to be declared a World Heritage Site. During our few days there, we visited both Inca and Spanish sites aware that both traditions are very much alive.
Just a half block from the small Plaza Cusipata is El Hotel Picoaga, originally the opulent residence of the Marquis de Picoaga and later converted into a comfortable four star hotel that surrounds an inner courtyard. The location gave us great access to the central Plaza de Armes, the Cathedral, shopping, and not a few street vendors who camped out on the sidewalk just outside the hotel entrance.
Our first afternoon was spent on a city tour, primarily several of the 40+ churches that serve the residents of Cusco, including Santo Domingo with its Spanish wall built upon the huge Inca stones so carefully carved, notched, and set smoothly upon each other; San Blas with its ornate wood pulpit so intricately carved; and the cathedral which is undergoing extensive renovation, a project of several years and many millions of soles (financed in large part by the Peruvian telephone company which, we were assured, accounted for why the telephone rates were so high). We had hoped to see, in addition to the gold and silver altar pieces and fine sculptures, the Spanish–Inca rendition of the Last Supper painted in part by a traditional Spanish master, and in part by local Quechua painters who painted in a local delicacy, cuy or guinea pig, as the main course! Unfortunately, the area of the painting was off limits to visitors.
The next two days were spent outside Cusco visiting important Inca sites with our guide, Fredy Delgado, who would be with us the rest of the trip. On Sunday, July 1, we headed to Ollantaytambo, a fortress–city on the Urubamba River about 45 miles northwest of Cusco. On the way, we passed the Sunday market in the small town of Chinchero. We smelled bargains and saw photos that needed to be taken, so we stopped for an hour or so. We continued over the mountains to Urubamba and on to Ollantaytambo. The origin of the place name is likely fiction, but it makes a wonderfully romantic tale nonetheless and is worth repeating:
Ollantay was an officer in the army of Inca Pachacuti who rebelled against Pachacuti because he was in love with Pachacuti’s daughter and was denied her hand in marriage. He took refuge in the town of Tampu (meaning shelter or stopping place) and declared himself the new Inca. The “rebellion” was quickly crushed, Ollantay was sent to prison, but not before Pachacuti’s daughter bore a child named Ima Sumaq (also the name taken by a remarkable Peruvian singer: Yma Sumac). When Pachacuti died, the next Inca, Tupa Inca Yupanqui, pardoned Ollantay and allowed the marriage. The town became known thereafter as Ollantaytambo and the statue of Ollantay stands in the center of town.
We visited a modest home in town with guinea
pigs skittering about the floor (future dinners, perhaps?), skulls of family
members on a cornice shelf, and an ekeko
(the figure in red on the right) for good luck. From town we climbed the
terraces and walls of what the Spanish called “The Fortress” that was an
easily defended position built out of huge porphyry monoliths, some over
12 feet high and weighing many tons. They were quarried over six miles
away on the other side of the Urubamba River.
Our next stop, after a late lunch, was the picturesque market town of Pisac (P’isaq). The Inca town of Pisac lies in ruins on the hillsides above the town; today’s Pisac was created by the Spanish to contain the conquered Quechua in one place in order to indoctrinate them into the Spanish religion and to control them as laborers for the Spanish settlements. The name Pisac means “reduction of Indians,” something the Spanish came prepared to do. The famous Pisac market is a Sunday event, though the shops/stalls appear more permanently constructed like an on–going flea market. While it was fun to poke through the endless supply of sweaters, clay figurines, rugs, etc., it was late in the day, rain threatened, and the vendors seemed tired and listless. The morning stop at the outdoor market at Chinchero was much more lively and almost festive.
Though we were only 18 miles from Cusco, the trip at dusk over the mountains seemed five times longer. We returned tired, some of us suffering from slight stomach upset and hastened to our rooms for a rest and some Cipro or Immodium. A good night’s sleep helped.
The next day we traveled by bus a short ways out of town to the ruins of Saqsaywaman (or “sexy woman,” as the local guides suggest in a smarmy helpful way). The enormous walls are comprised of massive granite monoliths that measure up to 16 feet high and wide and weight up to 130 tons; it is a testimony to the engineering genius of the Incas that they were able to cut, move, and place these stones with the kind of precision that remains. There are a number of theories regarding the purpose of the site: was it a castle? a fortress? a fortified temple and city? or a complex suburb of Cusco? Whatever it was, what remains staggers the imagination to explain how it came to be constructed. Walking among the remaining walls is to walk as an ant in a boulder field. Along with the massive ruins at Ollantaytambo, Saqsaywaman gave us a glimpse of what we were to find at Machu Picchu and along the four day hike on the Inca Trail.
INCA TRAIL AND MACHU PICCHU
Finally we began the journey that had brought us to Peru. The Amazon jungle gave us a chance to relax from the flight and get to know each other in a new setting. The four days in Cusco gave us some altitude experience and a preview of the Inca Empire crown jewel, Machu Picchu. Getting there was as important to us as our arrival.
We began by boarding a 7:30 train in Cusco. We cleared the city after six switch backs, passed through fertile farming areas, caught glimpses of Mount Veronica (nearly 19,000'), passed by Ollantaytambo at Km 68, and finally arrived at Km 88, a nondescript siding where we got off, collected our belongings, signed in at the official registration point, crossed a footbridge over the Rio Urubamba, and walked less than a mile to our first campsite at Qente, near the ruins of Llaqtapata, an agricultural city with terraces for growing, temples, residences, and a wall paralleling the Kusichaka River. We enjoyed a hearty lunch and a five mile warm–up hike through a eucalyptus grove and onto the main trail we would go back over again in the morning. Before dinner some rested in their tents while a few fierce competitors in our group joined the guides and some local flat bellied twentysomethings in several tough games of soccer until dark.
Our first full day on the Inca Trail was the equivalent of hiking to the top of Longs Peak (about 4000' elevation gain in just over seven miles). The day was generally cloudy and we would climb continually before reaching camp at Llulluchapampa just below Warmiwanusqua (Dead Woman Pass) the highest pass on the Trail at 13,780'. We stopped for a short rest at Willkaraqay, a pre–Spanish village—the last place to buy anything, we thought—and pushed ever upwards along the wide stone trail. A couple of our group completed the 2–3 mile leg of the trip by horseback! The air was thin, and the views of the snow–capped peaks were breathtaking. We stopped for lunch about 11:15 at a table set up before our arrival by the cooks and a few porters (the rest had gone on to set up camp at Llulluchapampa) overlooking the valley from which we had just climbed. Another hour of ascent through a lush cloud forest and we arrived at camp, a bit tired but exhilarated by the view at 12,000'. Judy was first in; Hughes was in the back of the pack as usual. We rested in our tents for a couple of hours (we really should have brought a book) until “tea” at about 3:30. Fredy was somehow able to get (in the middle of nowhere!) a six pack of cokes which some found more to our liking than instant coffee or teas.
In the morning some of us made a quick hike up toward the summit of Dead Woman Pass before breakfast for some early morning photos. After breakfast, we got no more than 100 yards from camp when the rain began and lasted all day. It was a tough day for hiking: we climbed to the Pass and then dropped down to Pacaymayu (a popular/crowded camp area with flush toilets) and then back up again to Runkuracay, an Inca lookout post at over 12,000' with outstanding views both down to the valley we’d just climbed from and out to the crest of the Andes. (The photo on the right shows the trail from the top of the pass down to Pacaymayu and up to near Runkuracay.) We continued to climb up to nearly 13,000' before making camp at on the edge of the mountain near some alpine ponds. In spite of the weather and the tough climb, we made good time and not a one complained.
In the morning the cook prepared a special birthday cake for one of our group and several of the porters picked a huge bouquet of alpine flowers for her as well. It was a very special occasion and may have accounted for a change in the weather for the day: no rain! We left camp and climbed to Sayaqmarca (11,472') a military city at a strategic site on the trail: great views and a defensible position. Fredy gave us the history of the site and we walked leisurely around the ruins before heading to our final camp near Puyupatamarca. Along the way, the vegetation changed from alpine to a humid cloud forest environment with several varieties of orchids mixed in with other flowers and lush greenery. Our camp that night (shown on the left) was no less spectacular than the previous ones: views of the high peaks were uninterrupted and dramatic, and we could look down on the town of Aguas Calientes and Urubamba River over 3000' below.
Our easiest day of hiking was our final descent into Machu Picchu: it was no more than five miles, almost all downhill, and the rain that persisted throughout the morning and early afternoon stopped just as we approached the western entrance, a suddenly near vertical stairway to Intipunku, “The Doorway of the Sun.” Machu Picchu spread out beyond and below us in all its drama and beauty. We had reached our goal and everyone rejoiced for we knew that we were all within a half hour of the Machu Picchu Sanctuary Lodge, a 3–star accommodation with hot showers, fluffy towels, a luxuriant queen size bed, and a bar with ice!
The spectacle of Machu Picchu drew us in and we didn’t rush to the hotel. Rather we immersed ourselves in the totality of the site: the remains of a major city and remarkable architectural achievement that must rival any city in the world. The spire of Huayna Picchu (meaning “young peak”) in the background drew the attention of those of us who were planning to make that difficult climb the next day. Finally, we gave in to the desire for some creature comforts at the lodge and some much needed rest and change into dry clothing. Pisco sours, wine, and beer preceded a fine dinner while we told stories and recounted all we had seen and done for the past four days. Needless to say, we all felt a great sense of accomplishment.
A wake–up call at 5:00 am got us up to view the ruins as the sun came up, a sacrifice we gladly made to see the light and clouds change the setting from moment to moment. After breakfast, Fredy, who had been a guide at Machu Picchu a few years earlier, dusted off his tour and introduced us to much of the ruins until midmorning, when the group split into those who would continue to explore the city ruins and those who would climb Huayna Picchu (the mountain that is often mistaken for Machu Picchu, which is the mountain on which is carved out the city itself). Ruth Wright, in her detailed and very useful The Machu Picchu Guidebook (Johnson Books, Boulder: 2001), says to plan one hour to the top and a half hour down with an additional two hours or so to appreciate the views as well as the ruins on are on the top of what appears to be an inaccessible mountain top. We must have hurried, but we felt the accomplishment of the climb and were thankful for the occasional rope or chain to help us up the the very steep and narrow stairs. Coming down was as arduous as the climb!
We left that afternoon by bus to the little town of Aguas Calientes: five miles of zigzagging dirt road, though only a mile and a half straight down, the distance run by a nine–year–old boy who met us at every crossing, waved and yelled, and ran on, eventually meeting us at the bottom to collect his gratuity for a fine performance that he really earned. We ate lunch in Aguas Calientes and caught the trail for Cusco. In Ollantaytambo, we switched over to a bus which didn’t seem to make the trip any faster than the train, and we arrived after dark at our hotel.
The following day was spent on our own—packing, shopping, resting, and getting ready to leave for home. That evening we celebrated the third birthday on the trip: One of our group turned 15, a very special birthday in Latin America. A quinceanera celebration marks the transition from childhood to womanhood. Cindy, with the help of several others, planned an elaborate ceremony/party at the hotel complete with candles, carnations, and music for dancing. It was a highlight for us all.
Our final day in Peru was spent flying a delayed flight to Lima, taking a quick tour of downtown (clogged with incredible traffic, thick diesel fumes, and a gray sky that was less than cheery) and the Gold Museum. Because of the late flight—a common occurrence in Peruvian aviation—our visit was rushed. We finished the evening with a splendid farewell dinner at what has to be Cindy’s favorite Lima restaurant, La Rosa Nautica, perched on a pier on the Pacific Ocean. The surroundings were elegant and the seafood was delicious.
And it let us forget what was ahead for us all: the red–eye flight to Dallas–Ft. Worth and on to Denver.
SOME FINAL THOUGHTS
Machu Picchu is worth every nickel, every minor hardship, and every stone along the Inca Trail to see it. While it is possible to arrive at the this incredible place by train and bus, the hike—which can be done anywhere from 3–8 days, according to various tour operators—is an experience unto itself and should not be missed if at all possible. In our group we had two teenage girls who never complained nor whined, even when cold and wet and tired (at least publicly). There were several artificial hips and knees among us, in addition to marathon runners and rock climbers. Heck, Fredy and Percy, our guides, make the trip more than a dozen times a year. Our strongest advice, if you can possibly do it, do it!
Our sincere thanks Cindy for attracting “the right people” to make our experience memorable; to Jim and Austin who proved persistence and inner strength count for plenty; to Merilee and Lorilee who reminded us once again that traveling with young people can be enriching and insightful; to Jim and Patience who share such wonderful experiences with their children (and who know how to shop); to Joe, Sharon, Caroline, Alan, Cheryl who were, like the others, cheerful, considerate, and great fun to be with for 16 days. And to guides Fredy and Percy who kept us moving, kept us organized, and kept us informed every step of the way—we’re sorry you can’t be with us for the “Pictures and Pisco Sours Party.” We’ll remember you all.