Cusco Rocks! (See what I did there?)

After Arequipa, we hopped on an overnight bus to Cusco. Cusco was the capital of the former Incan empire, and is thus the jumping off point for visits to some incredible piles of stones, most famously Machu Picchu.

After weeks on the arid Peruvian coast, we were pleasantly surprised by the change from desert hues and dust to the lush greenery and dramatic peaks of the Andes. We were less pleasantly surprised by the change from tank-top weather to bitter cold and sudden downpours. Indoor heating is not really Cusco’s jam, so we often went to bed wearing literally every layer we had in our packs. Summer shmummer.

We started in on the Incan ruins right away, having the local Huerto-bound bus drop us at Tambomachay (just outside of Cusco) and walking the 9 km back to town, visiting Pukapukara, Q’enqo, and Sacsaywamán (slur “sexy woman” to pronounce) along the way. Coming from California, where it seemed like the oldest things in our neighborhood were 1930s Craftsman homes and Kristy’s Subaru, this all felt pretty unreal.

Some of the other ruins in the Sacred Valley seem harder to reach by bus unless you have some time to bum around the villages on the way, so we hired a taxi to take us to Chinchero, Moray and the Salinas salt flats, finally dropping us in Ollantaytambo, the site of an Incan fortress where a famous battle was won against the Spanish. Luckily we were in Ollantaytambo the week of an epiphany celebration where nearby villages travel in to parade through the town in their local dress, dance traditional dances, and drunkenly watch a bullfight. You have not lived until you have seen an old Peruvian lady in full skirts, colorful sweaters and jaunty bowler hat chug a Cusquena beer and taunt a toro.

From Ollantaytambo we took the train to Aguas Calientes, the touristy town that serves as the portal to Machu Picchu. We took the first bus up at 5:30 in the morning and then did the hike up Machu Picchu mountain, braving 2ish hours of very steep stairs to take in the incredible view. Sadly, one of the negative things about going during the low season with less people is that it’s also the rainy season, and a thick layer of fog obscured everything more than a foot below us. We waited it out about an hour, thinking like any good San Diegan would, “this will burn off”, with no luck.

On our way down the mountain the skies opened up and it proceeded to pour the rest of our visit, but it has still been a huge highlight of our trip so far. After spending a few days visiting smaller ruins of temples, guest houses and agricultural sites, it was a very satisfying finish to see an entire village, nestled dramatically within the mountains.

Historic sites in Peru in our experience seriously lack in informational signage, perhaps because the guide business is an important source of employment, or more likely because there’s just no money for it. Either way, since we opted to be cheap and not hire a guide at any of the ruins, I’m afraid we’re still pretty ignorant about the Inca culture, and many questions remain, such as “what are we looking at?” and “how the hell did they build that?” I read up on the matter later and felt both comforted and sad that archaeologists don’t have definitive answers to those questions either.

Kristy liked to compensate for our lack of knowledge by making up stories about everything we saw, such as “and THIS flat rock was a seat for the Inca king, and this smaller one was for his…SERVANT.”

While entertaining, I’m afraid these tidbits will live in my head like the Spanish words Kristy has invented and later accidentally reemerge as “facts”.

Our last day we visited the Museo Historico Regional, a small museum with a few artifacts and art from the Cusco area. What I was most struck by was how it had so little…stuff. We spent days marveling at these massive ruins, and now we wanted to see the things that made these piles of stones habitable, but we were looking at this super meager collection of pottery and jewelry. Years of artifacts being stolen or taken out of the country has left Peru with very little, and without these human elements (and umm, a guide) I felt like we had a really incomplete picture of who these people really were (and how they didn’t freeze to death cause dude, the Andes are cold!)

Anyway, after five days of all this, as stunning as it all was, I felt like I couldn’t take in another site. I was a bit “ruined” if you know what I mean. (Don’t worry, Kristy didn’t laugh any of the times I tried that joke with her either). And near the end of our visit, I started to come down with my first serious bout of Prissy American.

I hadn’t read about Prissy American prior to our trip and it took me by surprise, so hopefully this account will be helpful to others.*

You see, when you first start budget traveling, you are fresh and excited, rugged and hearty. You wash your clothes in the hostel sink and say cheerfully, “you know, I actually don’t smell that bad!” You do anything to save a buck – you walk miles with all your luggage instead of taking a $2 taxi ride, you search endlessly for the cheapest meal and then split it, you sleep with your hood up if the sheets seem a bit questionable. It’s all worth it for the amazing experiences you’re having every day.

But after time, this begins to wear on you, and you begin to feel yourself coming down with a bit of the Prissy American, about to have herself a diva tantrum.

“I don’t want to see anymore magnificent f’ing ruins! You know what would be magnificent? A HOT shower! A carne asada burrito and a craft beer! And a bathroom with toilet paper that I can actually FLUSH! And throwing my shirt in a washing machine even though I only wore it once. And when a hostel advertises having WiFi, hot water and credit card processing, having just ONE of those things be true!”

There’s only one way to shut the Prissy American up, and it’s just to indulge her. Our last two days in Cusco we found a hotel for around $50 a night – a small fortune for our Peruvian budget – that had a heater! a hot shower with water pressure! daily room cleaning! WiFi (but only in the lobby, one strike)! a laundry service! free breakfast with more than bread and butter! We spent the next few days lounging at the hotel, seeing no sites, catching up on our mindless internet activities, and being as clean and warm as possible. We also did an American “cleanse”, eating pizza, burritos**, spaghetti and crepes.

And just that easily, the Prissy American fades away, and you’re refreshed and ready for your next round of budget travel.

*Prissy American reactions are most common and severe for travelers over age 25.

**An ignorant impulse inside of you makes you think all countries south of the US border would have Mexican food nailed, but that’s just dumb, and pretty racist.