Sunday morning procession in Cusco, Peru

Parades and food

Sunday morning arrived, and with it cooler temperatures, but a brilliant day. There were several things I needed to do during the day, including finalizing my trip to Macchu Pichu, meeting up with the person who would be my host for the next two nights, explore the market, laundry, arranging for accommodation beyond Cusco and Agua Calientes, and more. I ventured back to the main square, dropping my laundry off at a shop along the way. As I approached the main square, I could hear music and drums, and I noticed a large crowd of people standing along the sidewalks, the road and square having been blocked to traffic. In the distance, from the direction of the market, it seemed a parade was about to make its way toward the square. I walked along the and soon saw the lead groups of the parade slowly progressing, with behind them groups of people colourfully dressed in traditional costumes of the Incas. I cannot say what the procession was for, although I did notice several skulls being carried by certain members of the group. A Chief soon led more young people toward the square, passing me by with a flurry of waving banners and flouncing skirts. I followed behind the procession for a few moments before tracking off toward the market I had spied through another gate.

A great selection of fruit, all fresh, Cusco, Peru.

I was starting to feel hungry, and as I walked further back through the market I saw rows of tables and ‘kitchens’ serving food. The atmosphere was one that I was used to from similar set-ups in Thailand, and as I walked around I tried to decipher what the various selections were. Unfortunately my language skills were not yet good enough to really order anything unique, and I simply pointed to a dish that attracted my attention, knowing it would be served as a set, complete with soup and water. I squeezed onto a bench right at the counter, and took in the growing crowd of people enjoying their Sunday brunch. I was joined for a few moments by a Peruvian couple who lived in the USA but were visiting family in Cusco; our conversation centered around food, and exploring markets around the world.

Patrons at traditional ‘juice bars’

When I had walked into the market I observed rows of small fruit stands, complete with benches and blenders, where fresh fruit shakes were made to order. Having eaten my fill, I paid the 3 dollars for my very filling brunch, and went in search of a healthy fruit shake. Mangoes are really one of my favourite fruits, and every year around the month of March, I tend to gain a kilo or two in weight when the mangoes ripen and are served together with sticky rice and creamy coconut milk in Thailand (Khao Neow Mamuang).

Fresh fruit at the stand.

Several of the stands in the market sold mangoes that looked as tasty as those in Thailand, considering that this was likely the right season for them in the southern hemisphere, I ordered a large glass of mango juice; although nearly as expensive as my entire lunch, the drink was the perfect way to top off a great lunch and to prepare for another afternoon of wandering around the old city of Cusco.

Not everything works out all the time

I had arranged to meet my host at 1pm at the San Blas plaza, and made my way back up several hundred steps from the market to the plaza – progress was still slow, as I had still not adjusted to the altitude, and I took frequent breaks. By 1pm I arrived at the plaza and found a quiet bench in semi shade to wait for my host. A few local artisans were proffering their wares along the fountain; paintings, rings, wristbands, and numerous other objects designed to part people from their money.

San Blas plaza on a quiet Sunday afternoon

Children played around the plaza, and several other tourists found spots to enjoy the sunshine. My eyes were drooping, and I had a tough time staying awake, the lunch, the juice, the weather, all conspired to make me sleepy, yet I could not sleep for fear that I would miss meeting up with my host. One thirty arrived, and still I had not seen hide nor hair of him. Finally near 2pm, I received a message – fallen asleep, sorry, on my way now; there in 20 minutes. It was an omen of things to come. After meeting, we slogged back up-hill, another 1000 steps or so it seemed, and I was reeling from the effort. We made our way up to a spacious apartment, where I was pointed in the direction of one bedroom – this was to be my space, to be shared with one, or maybe two, other visitors, depending on who showed up. There was no internet access, telephone service was near to non-existent in the apartment and only could I find a signal at street level. I was given no key, so could not conveniently leave or come back, and so it was that I ended up sitting in the living room for a few hours, reading Dante’s Inferno. By 7 pm, I made a decision, showered before the hot water ran out, turned off the lights (so as not to be asked to pay for electricity, and sorted out my sleeping bag and pad on top of a mattress and (what seemed to me to be) horse blankets that were probably from the middle of the previous century – luckily I had bought enough water to last me the night.