I've never lost my luggage in traveling or had it delayed. My travel companions have had luggage delayed-but I have not. We arrived in Lima exhausted just after midnight. And we waited for our bags. And waited. And waited. Then the bags stopped coming. And we got nervous. In my exhausted state-I was ready to melt. Chris held it together and as we stood alone at the baggage claim-our packs arrived. There went another potential hour of sleep.
Lima airport really is open 24 hours. (This had been a major stress for me prior to leaving.) Flights leaving & arriving all night long. We were both surprised by all the people. Thus we decided to check in for our 6am flight in hopes there were better sleeping prospects through security.
As we waited in line to check our luggage, we were acutely aware of cultural differences. Other cultures typically do not form lines. We found the airline staff in Lima VERY particular about their line. We had to wait in line to get in line for the airline. So there is a line of 30+ people about 20 feet from where the ropes began. And before entering the ropes, we had to have our passport & ticket verified (2nd out of 5 times total). At 2:00am we found our gate & these lovely "beds" for the night. We set our travel alarm clocks & put on our eye masks, hugged our carry-ons & off to bed. (Note this is Chris at 5am after having slept 2 hours). Even that night I noticed I was breathing faster at rest & had a frontal headache-two symptoms of altitude sickness (an illness I underestimated until the days before departure). But I slept just fine.
I slept the hour flight to Cusco. Not sure about Chris. The chilly Cusco air greeted us (5 Celsius ) and wepromptly put on our coats. We both agreed it was nice to be chilly. We had arrived without drama & were exhausted & ready for a nap.
Instead: we had our first real adventure.
Our taxi driver let us out & told us our hostel was located in a pedestrian only area, up a couple blocks & to the right. We put on our packs, carry-ons in hand and began to climb up a cobblestone hill. The Cobblestone hill then turned into 10-12 steps. By the top of these steps I thought my heart was going to come out of my chest. Altitude. And to top it off, the hostel & street we needed was nowhere in sight. Shop owners didn't even know the name of the street we were looking for. Lost. Huffing & puffing in the altitude, freezing air yet roasting because I was hauling 25lbs on my back. I hate being lost on a good day. Under the present physical circumstances, I put down my pack & sat.
Never underestimate the kindness of strangers. A kind gentleman showed us to the main road (by road I mean cobblestone one way street with about a foot raised sidewalk on each side). We walked & found our street-but no hostel. Another stranger took it upon himself to get us there-asking for directions & taking us around. This included another hike up 30 stairs only to find a third stranger who knew of our actual hostel. Down the 30 steps again-with palpitations and sure enough, we arrive at our hostel at 9:30. An hour & a half of wandering at high altitudes.
Our hostel owner is beyond hospitable. She served us breakfast. Gave us altitude helping tea de coca. She also had our room ready & allowed us to check in. Our room is on the 3rd floor, reached by an adorable staircase. We have our own bathroom & seem to be the only inhabitants if the hostel.
We climbed in bed for a much needed nap. And I woke up twice, because my heart was racing. Now, on to our first real day. I leave you with this photo of the mountains.
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