Day 10 - Thurs 9.2.10
ANDAHUAYLAS? ANDAHUAYLAST-NIGHT-WAS-SPENT-ON-A-BUS? ANDAHUAY-NOT?

12:00 am - Somewhere muddy, east of Ayacucho. Victoria asleep. Joseph listening to Crosby Stills & Nash´s Wooden Ships.

3:00 am - Somewhere even muddier. Victoria and Joseph eating plantain chips.

6:00 am - In the miserably cold bus terminal at Andahuaylas. Peruvians seem to be immune to rain, cold, or mud. We, unfortunately, are not.

9:00 am - Driving in a minibus, on dirt roads, in the rain, trying not to imagine how far the drop off is, it being obscured by the fact that we are literally in a cloud. We share a bench seat with perhaps the most energetic Peruvian child in history, who spends most of the ride singing, hanging out the window (which did not seem to disturb his mother) and screaming into the driver´s ear.

3:00 pm - Arrive in Abancay, refuse to get on another bus. Eat a large lunch. This town ain´t all it´s cracked up to be.

9:00 pm - Purchase cereal & milk. Consume. Repeat.

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Day 9 - Wed 9.1-10
MUSEUM NINE-AND-THREE-QUARTERS

Today we spent the day wandering around lovely Ayacucho, by far the most lively and interesting place we´ve visited so far. It was one of the last Inca strongholds before the Spanish took over, so there´s a great mix of indigenous structures and colonial buildings with hundreds of little courtyards to slip into and feel like you´ve gone back in time and should be wearing pantaloons and a feather in your cap. And a thin little mustache.

We had two quests for the day: to find a real cup of coffee (not instant) and to go to the Museo de Arte Popular (the museum of ¨Arte Popular¨). Both were tragic failures.

Rant #1: We know for a fact that Peruvian coffee is good. We´ve had it before in New York. They grow it all over the place and we´ve probably driven by a few coffee farms in the last week. And yet, most most of it is exported to other countries, and the locals don´t even know what you mean when you ask for drip coffee made from beans. This is a travesty. These people deserve more. We are spreading the gospel of espresso, one confused and slightly annoyed looking waitress at a time.

Rant #2: The Museo de Arte Popular is a hoax. It does not exist. We spent over an hour going on a pathetic scavenger hunt around the city, asking guards, office workers and small children where it was, all of which responded with a confident assertion that it was in the direction from which we came - you know, on that corner right over there. We are beginning to think that art isn´t popular at all in Ayacucho. Either that or it´s only accessible to Hogwarts students...


Much to our dismay, that night we boarded another bus at 7pm, set to arrive in Andahuaylas at 6am the next morning. We weren´t excited about it. In fact, given the terrain on the way here from Paracas, we were scared guano-less. The one redeeming factor was the lively teenage folk band that serenaded Victoria at the bus terminal and offered to steal her away from her American companion. After much consideration, she politely declined.

PS: We enjoyed the company of both live lambs and chicks on our bus. They all handled the ride better than Victoria did.

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Day 8 - Tues 8.31.10
ODE TO THE PERUVIAN BUS DRIVER

We´re working on it. We have 25 hours of experience to account for. Coming soon.