My very first bus ride (in the USA)

...didn't actually happen.

I was all ready to go - I'd had the ticket in hand for several weeks. I was so excited - this trip would start the end of a year-long separation from a very special person. The bus was scheduled to leave Cookeville and head to Knoxville at 8:45pm, so I arrived with about 20 minutes to spare. There was a bus there already, but it was the bus to Nashville, the driver assured me, "The next bus is yours sweetie, it'll be here any minute."



So I waited.

You see, this wasn't just any old bus ride. I've been on bus rides before. Bus rides, train rides, plain rides, even boat rides - but this was the first in the US. I thought I'd give my country a chance before slamming it for having the worst public transit system in the world.

So I waited some more.

9:00. Maybe there was a wreck and they're running late.

9:30. Ok, this is weird, let me try calling someone. Wait, I don't have any internet connection.

9:45. After calling about 5 numbers, I finally got in touch with someone, who told me to call the Nashville station, and gave me a number.

10:00. Nashville operator: "You're saying the bus is over an hour late? Oh well honey, we don't have any tracking system in our buses - you'd have to contact the station it was going to... Here's a number."

10:10. Knoxville station: NOTHING. Not even an answering machine or call waiting.

10:20. Home office again: "Oh that's not the right number, thy this one."

10:30. Knoxville station (maybe?): Still nothing. Well, it was the right station, which was supposed to be manned 24/7, but nothing.

10:45. Home office. Again. "Nothing? Nothing?! So the bus just never showed up and no one is answering any phones?" Yeah, B****, that's what I've been saying for the last 2 hours.

I stopped waiting at that point, and jumped in my car. I woke up to this, so I can't complain too much.

But I'm now more convinced than ever that we have the worst public transit system in the world.

The Kings' Universal Appeal: "A bad boy, but not TOO bad"

We decided to go to Graceland somewhat hesitantly, it was just something we figured we should do, as TN residents for 15 years, it only seemed fitting. I figured it would be okay - I've seen my share of fancy houses, and I like old, rich, dead people's stuff as much as the next person, but it's not exactly a novelty anymore. So we went to Graceland, not sure what to expect, but not expecting too much. What we found blew us away.

In it's simplicity, it's homey elegance, it's livability, it's unique personality, and it's overwhelming color showed a man, and his family, who lived like normal people. A man who imprinted his personality into every room of his house, but without overwhelming it with elegance and needless luxury. It's a house that you can see someone living in, playing with his daughter, entertaining friends, watching the news, and cooking midnight snacks while watching the tine B&W tube.

Without further ado:

Even the sign is simple and to the point. 

From this view, it really looks like it could be anyone's house - well, not mine, but you get the idea.

Ok, so not many of us have stained glass in our family rooms, or grand pianos for that matter, but he was Elvis, and he had a super long couch and coffee table so that his whole family could sit and drink together, glass peacocks or no.

When his daughter, Lisa Marie, comes home, she stays in the house - the upstairs is closed to the public as it was during his lifetime - and she uses the kitchen, same as it was 50 years ago.

I don't care how much money I have in my life, I will never ever be able to pull this off.

There's a reason this room is so famous. It's crazy and colorful, but somehow calming. A fountain, a panda, a guitar, and the bright Memphis sun - just a normal day in the Jungle Room.

The pasture out back.

And the back yard.

This plaque, hardly modest, was made to honor the philanthropic work that Elvis did, giving away huge amounts of the money he made as he already had everything he wanted and kept his eyes open to all those around him who were struggling even to live. It's taller than I am.

Each of those checks is $1000, worth ~$10,000 in the 50s. This was barely the beginning.

Elvis' appeal was that he was "a bad boy" - who appealed to teens and young adults, but "not dangerous" - a fact that appealed to parents. 

This is the memorial garden. Yep, that's it. 

They included the tractor that the landscaper used to keep up the grounds around Graceland in the automobile museum because it was generally acknowledged that everyone played a part and no work was to be undervalued. So there's the tractor alongside the Ferraris and motorcycles.

Private jet - why not?

And finally, the man loved his sleep! Not only did the jet include several beds and couches, but even a bed that converted into a couch, just in case. A true hero.

Machu Picchu, Part 2: Another Side

I could've taken the same pictures that you see in postcards and the Peruvian government's website, but why? They wouldn't have been as perfect, and you can see them on Google anyway. So without further ado, here are some MP pictures that you won't see on a Google search or any other website - except this one.

We visited in the peak of summer/rainy season, which meant a lot of greenery highlighted by the intense clouds overhead.

Quite literally, the backside of Machu Picchu.

Another view, with heavy cloud cover and a slight view of the muddy river in the valley far, far below.

The paths are maintained with grids of heavy duty wiring, but all the rain that falls between October and March still erodes them.

This is a view that usually only ants get...

The perfect picnic spot - to the left (not pictured) all the rest of MP.

The mountain top is surrounded by other mountains that are less cultivated but equally beautiful.

Down in the valley and around the bend, just a few hundred yards away from one of the most iconic sites in the world, there's a huge industrialized park next to the muddy river. 

Some more wild, rainy season beauty.

That mountain is the "nose" in the silhouette behind MP, the rest is hidden around the corner. 

Certainly not a part of the original..

That guy standing out there by himself will have a picture to die for. The pictures of people you see at MP are usually taken from this rock. Friends and strangers take turns taking each others photos, and as everyone recognizes that this will likely be one of the most epic pictures they ever get of themselves, they unselfishly stand in line and excitedly snap the photo of their neighbor in front of them, in turn handing their camera to the person waiting behind them. I heard English, Chinese, Spanish, Portuguese, Korean, and some other European languages, but everyone knew exactly what everyone else was saying. One of the coolest moments of shared humanity I've gotten to witness.

It's in there somewhere.

This is the same thing you saw in the second picture, just from the other end.

"Work Zone." Yes, some people actually have a job here, maintaining, unearthing, keeping people off the structures, etc.

The playing field where they had nightly entertainment.

Building right next to the Sacred Rock, (Look it up, I couldn't a picture of it worth posting. It was to my right as I took this picture.) but I really have no idea what it was used for, or who used it.

The quick way down.

Machu Picchu, Part 1: We finally made it!

The day I visited my first of the 7 Wonders of the World will forever be remembered as one of the most mixed of experiences and emotions. 

Machu Picchu. 

A place full of magic, history, culture, and people, lots of people. An unforgetable place that can take hours to reach, hours to explore, and finally several more hours to leave. An incredible place that will require an incredible amount of savings to finance. And finally, a place of breath-taking magnitude, beauty, mystery, and masonry.

Our day started around 5. The goal was to reach Calle Pavitos and catch a combi down to Ollantaytambo, from there it was just a matter of finding a bus, or a train, or some means of reaching the little town of Machu Picchu a few thousand feet below the famous historical site of Machu Picchu. It all sounded simple enough when I looked at the Peruvian government's official site, it also seemed rather simple when I read the experiences of fellow travels of Trip Advisor and other such helpful sites. And it was simple. At first. 5:30 in the morning we reach Calle Patvitos - we know we're in the right place because we could hear the drivers calling out their destinations from three blocks away. Incidentally they are all going the same place, so we have some bargaining power. Our local friends told us not to pay more than 10 Soles each, so when we found a driver who was willing to give us that price we hopped in. His combi was fairly empty, so we know we've got a little while to wait - no one drives for two hours with an empty seat. No one. 

About 6:30 we finally get on the road. Surprise: Jo and I are the only foreigners in the van. We listen to the radio, bad news about a bus crash, but other than that the van is quiet, it's too early for talk. The drive into the Valle Sagrado between Cusco and Ollantaytambo is gorgeous. We are almost too tired to keep our eyes open, but we know that the scenery is too good to miss. High, snow-covered peaks; lush, green fields; the sun coming up over the mountains, sending the snow into a fury of glittering, dazzling, blinding beauty; young children beginning the days chores - minding the llamas, pigs, goats, and sheep tethered along the sides of the road; and here and there a lone shop-keeper or vendor beginning the days work early, hoping to catch the earliest-risers. Most of our fellow passengers are asleep. They take this trip every morning, making their way from the crowded Cusco to the smaller tourist towns in the Sacred Valley where they are more likely to have a steady stream of business. They have grown accustomed to the sights and sounds, the beauty of the Andes has lost its charm on this Monday morning. 

Upon arriving at the bus station in Ollantaytambo at around 8:20, we begin to question some local people about different routes to Machu Picchu. We get some strange looks, and two answers. Most point to the train ticketing booth and look at us like we must be stupid - everyone takes the train. Finally, however, I get the answer I am looking for, "Go back to the plaza and take a bus, it will get you about half way, you can walk the rest of the way." But the plaza was a long way away, so we opt to take the train on the way in, and the walking/bus route on the way out. With about 2 minutes to spare we run to catch the train. It was a nice train. They give us coffee, and a chocolate pastry. And a tangerine. That's nice too. But for $87 per one-way ticket, it better be nice! Again, the scenery is breathtaking. This time we wind around next to a tumultuous river which looks unsettlingly much like chocolate milk to two people who knew they wouldn't be eating much that day. 

When we finally reach Machu Picchu at around 10:30 we wander around a bit. The town is quiet, remote. The girl in the Mini Shop doesn't even know where the bus station to "el sitio historico de Machu Picchu" is. A friendly lady in a pharmacy from whom we bought tissues finally pointed us in the right direction. After stopping to buy some bread for lunch we reach the station and again, opt to take the bus up (only $10 per one way ticket this time), and walk back down. The bus is almost full, which means we'll be heading up soon. We are NOT too tired to be excited, not too excited to notice the young mother next to us traveling with three young children, and not too travel-weary to take note of their faces and recognize them the next day at the airport in Lima (it really is a small world!).

After half an hour of zig-zagging our way up the side of a mountain, we're there. Machu Picchu!

People stream out in front of us, all waiting for the little stamp, "usado" letting the world know that we have used our tickets to Machu Picchu - we made it! Once through the gate we move slowly up the slight incline and finally, FINALLY, spread out in front of us like a dream come true, is one of the most incredible and truly wonderful sights I have ever seen. 

...To be continued!

Peru, Take Two

I've never been one to go back - I don't even like driving home the same way I drove somewhere.

So I was a bit nervous going back to Peru. I mean, I loved it the first time, but who's to say that the second time could be as good? Mostly I was afraid that I wouldn't love it as much the second time.

Of course, it was going to be different.

The first time, I arrived alone, stayed for two months, and left with a small army of truly wonderful friends.This time? For the first time ever, I was travelling with a partner, and we only had two weeks.

Back in June, it was winter there. But December brings Christmas in summer and falls right in the middle of Cusco's rainy season.

My first visit included a homestay with a Peruvian family, lots of Spanish practice, lots of Salsa lessons, daily excursions into new streets, markets, and stores, volunteering at an orphanage, relaxing afternoons trying out a new cafe with friends, new friends arriving every week, frigid nights just trying to sleep, taking pictures of every new thing I discovered, and attempting to determine if it was a place I'd go back to...

My most recent visit consisted mainly of looking for balances...between relaxing and doing everything, practicing Spanish and translating for Jo, trying new things and showing off the old ones I loved so much the first time, seeing old friends and meeting new ones, hitting the tourist attractions and living a normal Cusqueñan life, spending time together and having our own adventures, and eating at our favorite place every night or venturing some place new.

Added to all the new things we did together, the experience took on a totally new and exciting flavor as I vicariously experienced again the wonder of discovering Cusco for the first time through my sister. The surprises, the pictures, the questions, and the unexpected reactions.

Never has "going back" felt like such an entirely new experience.

And my fears regarding liking it less the second time - totally unfounded! If anything, falling in love for the second time increases the sentiment exponentially.

So, yes, I'm going back. Again.

What not to Pack

Dear Jo,

Since you're coming on my next great adventure with me, I thought I'd give you a few helpful hints about packing for Peru...

1) Shoes: Basically, don't bring heels, dress shoes, or anything remotely slippery - in fact, those non-slip shoes you've been wearing in food service for the last five years might be a good option... Many of the roads in Cusco are paved with stones that have been there for centuries. "Slick" doesn't even begin to describe them. These are roads I would slip on when they hadn't seen rain in two months. This time, it'll be raining every day. Rain boots, running shoes, duct-tape soles, you get the idea.

2) Clothes: The only reason you'd dress up in Cusco is to pick someone up or go to a wedding. So stay casual. But not too casual. Unless your objective is to alert every human being there that you are an American, stay away from the shorts. And unless you want people to think you're European, stay away from the sleeve-less tops. And unless you want people to think you're Australian, stay away from clingy clothes.

3) Toilet paper: Really, don't pack any for the plane, but keep it handy when you go into public restrooms. And while we're on that topic, bring coins - "public" doesn't inherently mean free.

4) Hand sanitizer: See above.

5) Passport/I.D./credit cards: You need a Passport to get into the country and Machu Picchu, but unless you have an international student card, leave the wallet at home. Pick-pocketing is a very real issue, and while they don't want your I.D., they're not going to give it back. Credit cards either won't work anywhere or will charge you a hefty fee. So leave the wallet alone. Soles are all you need to carry with you.

6) Cell phone/laptop: Most restaurants, hotels, and cafes around the plaza will have Wi-Fi, and it will be strong enough to send emails and texts. But for anything like uploading photos, you'll have to use the Internet cafes conveniently located no-where near the tourist sections.

7) Umbrella and rain gear: Essential! If you're there in the winter, you'll be lucky to see one day of rain in Cusco, in winter quite the opposite. 70% chance of rain for three months.

8) Jacket/sweater: Being wet is almost always cold, so expect to be a bit cooler than you're used to when the weather is in the 70's. It won't get much cooler at night, but it always won't get much dryer.

9) Tourist guides: Complete crap. I'm just going to shoot straight with you, Jack's may have the best French toast and La Bodega may have the most American pizza, but believe you me - they are NOT the best places to eat in Cusco. And certainly not if you're looking for authenticity! You know how many white people I saw in a Pollería? One. And that's because they have mirrors. And in a pastelaría, none, cause they don't have mirrors. The tourist guides are only good if you are hoping to see the same thing that every other tourist sees in Cusco - the bland side.

10) Power converter: Contrary to the info found on popular internet sources, the outlets and voltage are the same as those in the U.S.

11) Make-up: If you want to stand out more than you already do, feel free to put on make-up. If you were doing it to get attention, you didn't need to.

12) Camera: Bring one by all means. Just be careful where you show it. If you flash it around in the streets full of women who make their living by forcing tourists to pay for snapshots with llamas or cute children, it will not be stolen, but you'll end up shelling out FAR more than you were anticipating for pictures you didn't even want.

13) Water bottle: Don't bring one. You'll be buying all you water anyway, so just use the ones you buy.

14) Ibuprofen (or your pain-killer of choice): If you think spending the first few days of your trip to Cusco in agonizing pain due to the oxygen deficiency in your blood, leave that at home. In the case that you prefer sleeping at night and being able to breath during the day, pain-killer would come in handy.

15) English/Spanish Dictionary: Well. For a complete answer to this proposition, I'd simply like to point you to my post in this blog from 20 June called "All the Spanish..." We can just swing by the Coco Museum on our way to the hostel.

I hope this small guide will help you a bit as you ponder what you'll be wanting and needing on our trip. And I'll be more than happy to amend this list as questions arise. This should get you started tho.

You're welcome.

Peru, Day 51: Dear All-knowing Diary

Dear Diary,
First, did I really just sit and do nothing in my hostel all day?
Second, am I that sad of a person?
Third, why didn't I get up and get out there? Why didn't I brave that gray air? Why didn't I just walk out into a city where I know no one, nothing, and am completely alone?
Forth, why did I waste this entire day?
And, fifth, why am I writing to you as if you could write back?

Dear Beth,
Well hello there! I bet you didn't know that I COULD write back! I know, I get that shocked expression every time I deign a response, but your disillusioned depression was really getting me down, so I thought I would attempt a response just this once.

First, yes, you really did sit and do nothing in your hostel all day! Congratulations, I bet you are good and rested.
Second, that doesn't make you a sad person unless you are actually sad. Are you sad? If so, then yes, you are a sad person. If not, then no. Sitting in a hostel doesn't make you an inherently sad person.
Third, you didn't "get up and out there" because you're viewing this city as if it was in some way threatening you. Is it? Only if you choose to continue sitting in your hostel thinking that somehow that gray air is going to invade your soul and turn you into a minion of grayness.
You are scared of gray air.
You didn't do any of that because you are overwhelmed. Instead of just taking one step outside, one little step! You stayed in. Instead of taking a slow ramble around the block to get to know JUST ONE block of the city of Lima, you chose to ignore that option and continue thinking of Lima as a single, threatening entity.
Forth, you didn't waste the day. Days are only wasted if you neither learn nothing new nor experience nothing new. You did both. First, you experienced being completely surrounded by Hebrew-speaking Israelis, you learned that you are unreasonably overwhelmed, and you learned that...
Fifth, you are actually writing this to yourself.

Dear Diary,
Touché - I concur on every point.