Let’s terrace the clouds
This bus smells like I imagine alpaca farts must smell — a mix of ripe compost, dry grass, wet wool, and barnyard sweat. For the next six hours, I have no choice but to breathe it in. As we begin…
Buzz kill bus crash in Peru
First, to our friends and families: We’re fine. We were not on this bus. Pisac, Peru is a small town with a central area of cobblestone streets fit only for tour groups, pedestrians, packs of dogs, donkey-drawn carts, and wheelbarrows….
Ever in motion on bargained time
At the crossroads to Maras, it’s just us versus one understandably smug taxi driver named David. With no competition or civilization in sight, we abandon all hope of negotiating a lower fare. Instead, we do what we wish we could…
Riding the Machu Picchu recovery train
As our Inca Rail train pulls of Machu Picchu town, I realize my hands are…well, they’re not clean. There’s Incan dirt under my nails. Also, my jeans are spattered with mud. My jacket is soaked through with the rain that…
The train journey to Machu Picchu
Traveling to Peru at the end of the rainy season in March meant that we would be risking some serious damp downsides. Instead of hiking the steep and expensive Inca Trail through a potential mess of mud and mist, we…
