Random Thoughts from Peru

Today is our last day in Peru. We're in Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable body of water in the world. Today we will boat out to one of the man made floating islands where the natives live. Back to Puno, jet to Lima, then Atlanta, then home.

A few random observations:

By far the most obnoxious people we have encountered have been Americans. Example: Yesterday, we boarded a swanky, Orient-Express type train to take us from Cusco to Puno. (In fact, Peru Rail is owned by Orient Express). A group of older American tourists from Pennsylvania sat behind us. All of us were in jeans, the LTR was in his customary bib overalls he wears when travelling. One of the men from PA said, in a loud voice, "I thought there was supposed to be nice people on this train but there's a farmer in his overalls."

I'm looking forward to being able to flush the toilet paper down the toilet instead of throwing it in the wastebasket. However, I am grateful when there IS a toilet.

The stewards on Peru Rail are very gay.

Pisco Sours, the national drink of Peru, are yummy. One is enough, however. They are strong.

High altitude wreaks havoc on one's dreamlife. I've had vivid dreams of every fear I normally keep buried deep in my subconscious and on several nights have awoken to sounds of myself screaming. As you can imagine, this made me a hit on the trail with my fellow trekkers.

Alpaca is delicious. Who knew?

Peru is not burdended with the same strict rules and regulations that govern everyday American life. This can lead to pleasures, like being able to lean out the back of an open (no windows or walls, just a rail) railroad car while enjoying a cervaza, to annoying, like having to fight through a crowd of sign waving would be taxi drivers (many unlicensed) who greet travellers at every exit from train stations and airports. It's a mob and scary when arriving in an unknown city where you are warned to be careful about who you get in a car with.

The Peruvian people are by and large extremely friendly. This perhaps is a carryover from Inka days, when (according to our trail guide Fernando) one of the qualities expected of people was to be a "sweet guy" (Fernando's words). Here, strangers greet one another as "Amigo." Sure, in the touristy areas that is often a sales strategy, but I've encountered it in the remote areas and places you wouldn't expect it. Everyone here is your friend, unless proven otherwise.

Okay, our boat should be here shortly. If all goes well, I'll be writing you soon from Scott's Take global HQ back in Washington, DC.

Until then, Adios, Amigos.