Megann's Blog: Peru

For as long as I can remember, I've had an overwhelming love for Peru. It was like a little girl's obsession with Cinderella; Peru symbolized beauty and possibilities; it was a remote and romantic fantasyland where all of my dreams of experience and adventure would come to life. It wasn't until I actually visited Peru, though, (in March of this year) that I realized exactly how accurate all of my romantic speculation had been.
Peru is the most breathtaking place I have ever laid eyes on, and pictures and a travel journal will never be able to justly represent the days I spent there. It is home to the most diverse and truly interesting places I have ever explored, and I can't wait for the day I am able to go back and revisit the country which is the birthplace of so many of my happiest memories.
This would probably be a good place for me to give a grateful shout-out to my dad and his girlfriend of six years, Cara... So here it is: Thanks, guys. Peru was the best birthday present a girl like me could ever have wished for, and I'm so happy that you both came along to share in my awesome adventure.

The magnificent travels of Megann Phillips: a journal

Day 01 in Peru
March 15, 2013

My first full day of adventure abroad

        Yesterday brought an end to nearly 24 hours of airport-induced chaos. I woke up at 5:15 AM in order to catch a 7:30 AM flight to San Francisco from PDX, which, of course, Dad, Cara, and I discovered to be delayed upon arrival at the airport. We were redirected to a 10 o'clock flight to DC, after which we were to catch a connecting flight to Miami, then a connecting flight to Lima, then a connecting flight to Cusco. We never would have made it aboard our plane to Miami had that second flight not been delayed in accordance with our first, but it caused us to nearly miss our flight to Lima. We disembarked the plane in Miami only to have a fight attendant tell us that she didn't think we'd make it to the international terminal in time; this resulted in a mad dash across the airport. 

        We were sprinted down aisle ways lugging 25-pound backpacks until we met a Spanish-speaking man driving a cart; Cara talked him into giving us a lift, and we proceeded to nearly hit several walls and pedestrians is our rush through a labyrinth of hallways. When we were obligated to finally dismount the cart, we resumed out sprint and eventually (Thank God!) boarded our plane... on time.

        When we arrived in Cusco, we took a taxi to our hostel. Looking out the windows, I immediately fell in romantic love with the city. It has an obvious charm-- elaborate, colorful and worn-down, with locals that fit into their surroundings like pieces of a puzzle. We passed old, meticulously decorated stone churches, and, oh, so many royal blue doors and windows! The roofs are all fashioned with red tiles and mud, with grass growing up in tufts here and there; the streets are cobbled and disorganized, lined with thin little cobbled sidewalks, stray dogs, and street vendors. 

        Riding in the taxi, watching our driver navigate these city streets was an experience in itself. There don't appear to be any sort of organized lanes of traffic in Cusco, and cars just honk and swerve around one another constantly. Here, an inch seems to be a perfectly acceptable distance between two cars at any given time.

        It was difficult for me to leave our room once we finally arrived there, not only because I was exhausted from a day's worth of traveling, but because our room is so quaint and appealing. I have a tiny second-story balcony that looks out over the city, and the doors look hand-crafted of old wood. 

        When somehow we found the will to depart for a few hours, we visited one of the ornate churches in La Plaza de Armas. A local man gave us a tour, and showed us the centuries-old paintings and intricately carved wood altars, plated with gold and reaching the the high, arched ceilings. There must also have been nearly a dozen chapels inside the church. He showed us one chapel filled entirely with silver... and to our surprise, it was actually a moving chapel-- a delicately and elaborately decorated silver car! Another was dedicated to the patron saint of single women, and it contained a bust of his (Yes, the patron saint of single women is a man...) head. Around the base of the bust were an array of folded notes from local women wishing to find a husband.

        In the streets we walked through, people relentlessly attempted to sell things to us: bracelets, paintings, carvings, dolls, even photos with themselves. Many of the locals dressed up in traditional colonial-era garb, with brilliant woven blankets around themselves, holding small children or little lambs. It's almost irresistible not to get a photo, but a local woman in a fleece shop told us that they don't take care of the lambs they constantly coddle in their arms. The women hold them all day long, and their leg muscles don't develop; they become crippled and unable to walk on their own, and when they become to large to wrap in a blanket and carry through the streets if Cusco, they die-- We had to reject photos of them on principle.

        We tried street food! That has largely been our diet for two days that Dad, Cara, and I have been in Peru. It is all absolutely delicious, yet completely different than most food you would find in the states; it's slightly bland, but surprisingly good at the same time. The middle-aged couple on the corner next to our hostel sells a mean pastry, filled with a hard boiled egg and some type of mystery meat inside. I think I could eat that for breakfast every morning while we stay here in Cusco.