I left Lima about midnight last night, flew to NYC, and then caught another, gratuitous flight to DC before returning to Vermont this afternoon. I've got a few more things to write about Lima, but I'll hold on for now until I'm caught up with all the stuff waiting for me at home and with the inn.
I see that my trip posts are riddled with typos and other errors. In my defense, I was usually somewhere with a questionable connection, just trying to scratch down a few impressions and memories without spending my trip in an internet cafe.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Lobos del Rio
The giant river otters dove again and again. Frequently they surfaced with fish in their jaws, which they ate head first. We were close enough that we could hear their grunts, the crunch of fish bones and scales. They were having enough success in their fishing expedition that they paid us little attention.
We were returning from a hike on the other side of the lake, where we´d seen and heard dozens of parrots and macaws, including a tree filled with emerald macaws.
A larger group had arrived the night before and arrived just as we were finishing watching the emerald macaws. They were mostly women, with a few kids, part of a large family group. They were talking so loud that in spite of the guide´s attempts to hush them, and the continual squawking of the birds themselves, the macaws all flew off as they arrived. This seemed to be the family group´s experience as much as it overlapped with ours. They were having a good time, but not seeing as much of the wildlife. At times you could hear their group´s chatters carrying across the lake.
A few other animals that I haven´t mentioned. We saw agouti, which are a large, rodent, maybe twice as big as a rabbit. I saw what I thought were a pair of coati, although I´m not sure. Geckos, and several other kinds of lizards, including a bunch of fast, largish lizards that lived around the lodge. A couple of kinds of bats. There were leaf-cutter ants everywhere, working around the clock. Many other insects as well, including praying mantis, huge beetles, wasps, bees.
My brother and I were looking at what looked like a huge wasp nest which the guide said were scissor bees.
"Do they sting?"
"Oh, no, they don´t sting. They come at your head with their scissors. Many thousand in one nest."
Oh, scissors, is that all? Practically harmless.
The only animal we hadn´t seen was a snake, except for the serpentarium we stopped at in Puerto Maldonado. My brother and I had discussed this lack on the morning of our departure, and then, on the hike back out of the forest, something fell out of the branches overhead.
Yes, it was just like in the movies, snakes falling out of trees. It landed between us and sat motionless on the trail. It was a vine snake, maybe eighteen, twenty-four inches long. Brilliant green, impossibly thin. It stayed motionless until I touched its tail, and then it zipped off the trail and rapidly climbed the first bush it encountered.
A few hours later, in Cuzco, we bid a sad farewell to my brother. He is still en route, using this method to get home: boat, hike, boat, bus, plane, plane, plane, plane, plane, and car before he will finally be home, about 36 hours after his departure.
With my brother-in-law already gone several days ago, that leaves my father and I. We have a few more days in Cuzco and Lima, and then a slightly shorter version of the above to get home.
It has been a good trip.
We were returning from a hike on the other side of the lake, where we´d seen and heard dozens of parrots and macaws, including a tree filled with emerald macaws.
A larger group had arrived the night before and arrived just as we were finishing watching the emerald macaws. They were mostly women, with a few kids, part of a large family group. They were talking so loud that in spite of the guide´s attempts to hush them, and the continual squawking of the birds themselves, the macaws all flew off as they arrived. This seemed to be the family group´s experience as much as it overlapped with ours. They were having a good time, but not seeing as much of the wildlife. At times you could hear their group´s chatters carrying across the lake.
A few other animals that I haven´t mentioned. We saw agouti, which are a large, rodent, maybe twice as big as a rabbit. I saw what I thought were a pair of coati, although I´m not sure. Geckos, and several other kinds of lizards, including a bunch of fast, largish lizards that lived around the lodge. A couple of kinds of bats. There were leaf-cutter ants everywhere, working around the clock. Many other insects as well, including praying mantis, huge beetles, wasps, bees.
My brother and I were looking at what looked like a huge wasp nest which the guide said were scissor bees.
"Do they sting?"
"Oh, no, they don´t sting. They come at your head with their scissors. Many thousand in one nest."
Oh, scissors, is that all? Practically harmless.
The only animal we hadn´t seen was a snake, except for the serpentarium we stopped at in Puerto Maldonado. My brother and I had discussed this lack on the morning of our departure, and then, on the hike back out of the forest, something fell out of the branches overhead.
Yes, it was just like in the movies, snakes falling out of trees. It landed between us and sat motionless on the trail. It was a vine snake, maybe eighteen, twenty-four inches long. Brilliant green, impossibly thin. It stayed motionless until I touched its tail, and then it zipped off the trail and rapidly climbed the first bush it encountered.
A few hours later, in Cuzco, we bid a sad farewell to my brother. He is still en route, using this method to get home: boat, hike, boat, bus, plane, plane, plane, plane, plane, and car before he will finally be home, about 36 hours after his departure.
With my brother-in-law already gone several days ago, that leaves my father and I. We have a few more days in Cuzco and Lima, and then a slightly shorter version of the above to get home.
It has been a good trip.
More in the Amazon
The boat slipped into the water at 4:30 the following morning. It was just before dusk in the Amazon. The lake was still cool, and the water calm. Birds made raucus cries up and down the green wall that loomed to our left. The guide pointed out birds as he spotted them.
The most common was a primitive looking creature called the hoatzin, that looked and sounded like it belonged in the late Cretaceous. They were about the size of a turkey, squawking and carrying on. Macaws flew overhead, but it was hard to see their colors, silhouetted as they were against the sky. We saw kingfishers and egrets and a host of other fishing, fruit, or nut eating birds whose names I can´t recall.
The highlight was the troop of squirrel monkeys. The rowers pulled us in closely, silently, and we watched as they climbed vines over our heads, jumped from branch to branch, and fed on insects. One little baby, clinging to its mother´s back, looked me in the eye and then ducked its head into its mother´s fur.
We saw a pair of blue macaws nesting in a dead palm, and our first glimpse of the lobos del rio, the giant river otters. They were at a distance this time, but our second view, the next day, would be one of the highlights of the trip. There was also a strange, but fascinating owl roosting in a hole in a tree. I´ve seen plenty of owls, but this was so interesting looking that I kept the binoculars on it as much as any other animal I saw.
After breakfast we took a botanical hike through the forest. It was quite hot by now, but my father is very interested in all botanical things, and to be honest it was pretty interesting.
The evening excursion was on the boat again. This time we were looking for black caimans. We only saw the big, five or six meter animals from a distance, but shining the flashlights along the river banks, you could see dozens of pairs of caiman eyes reflected back at you, where the caimans hid beneath the overhanging vegetation.
The most common was a primitive looking creature called the hoatzin, that looked and sounded like it belonged in the late Cretaceous. They were about the size of a turkey, squawking and carrying on. Macaws flew overhead, but it was hard to see their colors, silhouetted as they were against the sky. We saw kingfishers and egrets and a host of other fishing, fruit, or nut eating birds whose names I can´t recall.
The highlight was the troop of squirrel monkeys. The rowers pulled us in closely, silently, and we watched as they climbed vines over our heads, jumped from branch to branch, and fed on insects. One little baby, clinging to its mother´s back, looked me in the eye and then ducked its head into its mother´s fur.
We saw a pair of blue macaws nesting in a dead palm, and our first glimpse of the lobos del rio, the giant river otters. They were at a distance this time, but our second view, the next day, would be one of the highlights of the trip. There was also a strange, but fascinating owl roosting in a hole in a tree. I´ve seen plenty of owls, but this was so interesting looking that I kept the binoculars on it as much as any other animal I saw.
After breakfast we took a botanical hike through the forest. It was quite hot by now, but my father is very interested in all botanical things, and to be honest it was pretty interesting.
The evening excursion was on the boat again. This time we were looking for black caimans. We only saw the big, five or six meter animals from a distance, but shining the flashlights along the river banks, you could see dozens of pairs of caiman eyes reflected back at you, where the caimans hid beneath the overhanging vegetation.
Crunchy, Delicious Spiders
There was a huge purple tarantula on the ground, moving in a strange way. What was this jiggling abdomen about, attracting prey? Oh, wait, the tarantula was being eaten...by a larger, scarier looking spider. The guide called them matapollos--chicken killers.
After arriving at the Sandoval Lake Lodge, we rested for a couple of hours, got to know a couple of the other guests (there weren´t many, yet), and watched hummingbirds at the feeder. Darkness falls hard and fast in the tropics and soon we were ready for our first guided excursion.
Just a few feet from the lodge, the guide stopped us with an expectant look and turned his flashlight on something hanging from a leaf. "What is it?" the three of us asked. He answered in accented, deliberate English. "Grass hopper."
D and I exchanged looks. Ah, so that was the level of wildlife we were seeing on this hike. Hmm, well, we had already seen monkeys, and dinner was in another hour and a half.
Ah, but teen feet further he stopped us with the same enthusiasm and shined the light up the trunk of a tree just over our head. "Tarantula." Yeah, big, purple, hairy, shudder inducing. Now we were talking.
Shortly we came upon the first of many hideous beasts--the aforementioned matapollos--living in dens bigger around than my fist, waiting for birds, mammals, and, as it turned out, other spiders, to come along. We saw a small black caiman in a pool, a frog, bats, and impossibly thin walking sticks. No snakes, alas, although another group saw some.
The electricity is only on for certain times during the day, so after dinner, when we´d climbed into our beds, lowered the mosquito netting, and tried to sleep in anticipation of a 4:30 departure in the morning, the fans kicked off. Thankfully, it was just warm, and not hot.
Next, more animals.
After arriving at the Sandoval Lake Lodge, we rested for a couple of hours, got to know a couple of the other guests (there weren´t many, yet), and watched hummingbirds at the feeder. Darkness falls hard and fast in the tropics and soon we were ready for our first guided excursion.
Just a few feet from the lodge, the guide stopped us with an expectant look and turned his flashlight on something hanging from a leaf. "What is it?" the three of us asked. He answered in accented, deliberate English. "Grass hopper."
D and I exchanged looks. Ah, so that was the level of wildlife we were seeing on this hike. Hmm, well, we had already seen monkeys, and dinner was in another hour and a half.
Ah, but teen feet further he stopped us with the same enthusiasm and shined the light up the trunk of a tree just over our head. "Tarantula." Yeah, big, purple, hairy, shudder inducing. Now we were talking.
Shortly we came upon the first of many hideous beasts--the aforementioned matapollos--living in dens bigger around than my fist, waiting for birds, mammals, and, as it turned out, other spiders, to come along. We saw a small black caiman in a pool, a frog, bats, and impossibly thin walking sticks. No snakes, alas, although another group saw some.
The electricity is only on for certain times during the day, so after dinner, when we´d climbed into our beds, lowered the mosquito netting, and tried to sleep in anticipation of a 4:30 departure in the morning, the fans kicked off. Thankfully, it was just warm, and not hot.
Next, more animals.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
The Amazon
The first thing to notice about the Amazon was the air. Dense and humid, for my sick body it was a welcome change from the dry, thin air of the high Andes. We took a boat south from Puerto Maldonado along the Madre de Dios River. The river is wide, maybe about the size of the Connecticut, but the color of the chocolate river in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
We zipped downstream in a low-slung boat, moving with the current. The motor was quiet enough to hear birds on the banks. Trees crowded the river. We passed a few boats, some people fishing on the river, an abandoned mining operation. After about a half hour we stopped and began the hike toward Lake Sandoval.
It´s the rainy season, so the trail had mud in parts. We changed into rubber boots and hiked the two miles until we got to the lake. From there, a couple of guys rowed us across to the lodge.
As we were changing boots, a family of red howler monkeys climbed the vines over our head one by one, each pausing to look cautiously down at us. Some had babies clinging to their backs.
The west side of the lake is rimmed by palm trees, filled with noisy scarlet, emerald, and blue macaws, as well as various parrots. The terrain changes as you move either east or north, with a floodable part of the forest and then tierra firme--higher ground--on the opposite side, where one is not permitted to enter.
We arrived at the lodge to a welcome glass of cold lemonade, a beautiful building made of mahogany driftwood from the Madre de Dios, and a cool, shady veranda that included hammocks and places to watch animals or the sunset.
All was going well, but we had not yet seen the huge purple tarantulas, or the matapollos (chicken killers), who were even bigger spiders, one of which was later spotted munching on one of the tarantulas.
We zipped downstream in a low-slung boat, moving with the current. The motor was quiet enough to hear birds on the banks. Trees crowded the river. We passed a few boats, some people fishing on the river, an abandoned mining operation. After about a half hour we stopped and began the hike toward Lake Sandoval.
It´s the rainy season, so the trail had mud in parts. We changed into rubber boots and hiked the two miles until we got to the lake. From there, a couple of guys rowed us across to the lodge.
As we were changing boots, a family of red howler monkeys climbed the vines over our head one by one, each pausing to look cautiously down at us. Some had babies clinging to their backs.
The west side of the lake is rimmed by palm trees, filled with noisy scarlet, emerald, and blue macaws, as well as various parrots. The terrain changes as you move either east or north, with a floodable part of the forest and then tierra firme--higher ground--on the opposite side, where one is not permitted to enter.
We arrived at the lodge to a welcome glass of cold lemonade, a beautiful building made of mahogany driftwood from the Madre de Dios, and a cool, shady veranda that included hammocks and places to watch animals or the sunset.
All was going well, but we had not yet seen the huge purple tarantulas, or the matapollos (chicken killers), who were even bigger spiders, one of which was later spotted munching on one of the tarantulas.
Fun Times in the Sacred Valley
Vomiting, diarrhea, and utter exhaustion aren´t what you want to face when you´re high in an Andean town, alone, and supposed to be leaving for the Amazon the following day.
I felt a gurgling in my stomach as we walked from the train station back to the hotel at Oyatalltanbo. By morning, I´d suffered maybe fifteen visits to the toilet of varying kinds and was simply unable to continue back to Cuzco. After some talk with the other three, I convinced them to leave me to die.
Well, I said that I´d get the hotel another day and if I were feeling better I´d catch a taxi later in the day and meet them. Reluctantly, they went ahead. I wasn´t in real danger. I speak the language, have traveled plenty of dicier places on my own, and had picked up an anti-biotic from a local pharmacy (well, someone picked it up on my behalf, as I couldn´t walk five steps) on the advice of a doctor who was staying at the hotel.
I suffered/slept for several more hours after they left, then tried to get a taxi and failed. I was feeling slightly better. Against my better judgement, I took a seat in the back of a colectivo--like a taxi for about ten people--and suffered all the way to Cuzco. It was a spectacular trip, but I was just trying to keep from collapsing and counting every one of the 105 minutes into town. The taxi dropped me off at a plaza a couple of blocks from the hotel and I just sat there, unable to get up and move.
I´m not sure what made me so sick this time. I haven´t ever had anything like that, not even traveling through North Africa or Southeast Asia. We didn´t eat any food that was particularly strange.
So I managed to make it to the hotel and later met the others. By morning, I was feeling well enough to make the attempt. I ate three spoonfuls of yoghurt, the first food I´d eaten in 36 hours, and then got on a plane, knowing I hate a two mile hike through the rain forest on the other end.
Somehow, unbelievably, by the time the two mile hike arrived, I´d recovered enough to eat a little something and to make it to the lodge. More about that later.
I felt a gurgling in my stomach as we walked from the train station back to the hotel at Oyatalltanbo. By morning, I´d suffered maybe fifteen visits to the toilet of varying kinds and was simply unable to continue back to Cuzco. After some talk with the other three, I convinced them to leave me to die.
Well, I said that I´d get the hotel another day and if I were feeling better I´d catch a taxi later in the day and meet them. Reluctantly, they went ahead. I wasn´t in real danger. I speak the language, have traveled plenty of dicier places on my own, and had picked up an anti-biotic from a local pharmacy (well, someone picked it up on my behalf, as I couldn´t walk five steps) on the advice of a doctor who was staying at the hotel.
I suffered/slept for several more hours after they left, then tried to get a taxi and failed. I was feeling slightly better. Against my better judgement, I took a seat in the back of a colectivo--like a taxi for about ten people--and suffered all the way to Cuzco. It was a spectacular trip, but I was just trying to keep from collapsing and counting every one of the 105 minutes into town. The taxi dropped me off at a plaza a couple of blocks from the hotel and I just sat there, unable to get up and move.
I´m not sure what made me so sick this time. I haven´t ever had anything like that, not even traveling through North Africa or Southeast Asia. We didn´t eat any food that was particularly strange.
So I managed to make it to the hotel and later met the others. By morning, I was feeling well enough to make the attempt. I ate three spoonfuls of yoghurt, the first food I´d eaten in 36 hours, and then got on a plane, knowing I hate a two mile hike through the rain forest on the other end.
Somehow, unbelievably, by the time the two mile hike arrived, I´d recovered enough to eat a little something and to make it to the lodge. More about that later.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Machu Pichu
Heart palpitations, bloody diarhea, the ruins of Machu Pichu whats not to like? Fortunately, the heart palpitations and diarhea were not my own.
We took the train from Ollantaytambo this morning. It followed a dramatic gorge slicing downriver to the town of Aguas Calientes, a few thousand feet below Machu Pichu. We caught the bus up to the entrance of the ruins, but by the time we´d arrived, the switchbacks had punished my brother´s delicate constitution. He went into the restroom and didn´t emerge.
We finally decided to enter the park, then we waited a few minutes longer before continuing across the ruins to the base of Wayna Pichu, which is the dramatic green cliff that you see looming above Machu Pichu in all the ruins. My father really wanted to do the hike to the top, where you can see an additional ruined fortress, but more importantly, have the best view of Machu Pichu. I looked up at the mountain, learned about the hour to hour and a half hike, and suggested maybe we just see Machu Pichu first and see if D would show up. It seemed a lot to tackle, especially for my dad.
But it was something my father had really wanted to do, so we set off, leaving G behind to wait for my brother.
It´s safe tos ay that the hike tested my father. Most of it was nothing more than huge stone steps corkscrewing around the mountain to the top. We had to stop quite a few times to let him rest and I was worried a few times that I´d be seeing him descend via lifeflight helicopter. But no, he made it.
The descent was much easier, and we were pushing close to the time we´d set up to rendezvous with G, and hopefully, my brother, so I went ahead. It was less than half the time coming down as going up, although I´m going to have some sore muscles specific to that part of the hike as well.
Unfortunately, by the time my dad got to the bottom he was wiped out. D had finally arrived, but had suffered. There was bleeding where you don´t want to see blood, pleas for toilet paper from others in the bathroom, and about an hour of feeling quite sick alter he entered the archeological site. My Dad wanted to rest, my brother had seen everything that interested him, and my brother-in-law was content to sit on the grass with them and look at the llamas and the mountains and the ruins.
I really wanted to go through the various temples and houses, take some pictures, everything. I´d been there several hours and hadn´t really seen anything of Machu Pichu itself. My brother was getting kind of irritated, and kept suggesting that I just go on ahead. So, eventually, I did.
The best thing about waiting until late in the day was that the crowds were gone. The tour busses had scooped up their tour groups of Japanese, French, American, Italian, Russian, etc., tourists and largely left the ruins deserted. Well, deserted is too strong, but it was much quieter.
I came back to where the others had set up camp about an hour later, but they´d left, maybe for the busses back to town, as it was getting rather late by this time. I looked around a few more minutes, then exited the ruins myself and caught the bus to town, not seeing them anywhere along the way. That was predictable, since Machu Pichu is the size of a small city, with dozens of rooms, walls, alleyways, terraces, and hills to hide people.
On the way out, I saw some large chinchilla-looking creatures that a guide told me were called bicachas, living among the niches in a rock wall. An anteater crossed the road in front of our bus. I´m now waiting near the train station, hoping they show up in time. My dad has my train ticket, so it´s either that, or I´m spending the night in Aguas Calientes without any of my luggage.
We took the train from Ollantaytambo this morning. It followed a dramatic gorge slicing downriver to the town of Aguas Calientes, a few thousand feet below Machu Pichu. We caught the bus up to the entrance of the ruins, but by the time we´d arrived, the switchbacks had punished my brother´s delicate constitution. He went into the restroom and didn´t emerge.
We finally decided to enter the park, then we waited a few minutes longer before continuing across the ruins to the base of Wayna Pichu, which is the dramatic green cliff that you see looming above Machu Pichu in all the ruins. My father really wanted to do the hike to the top, where you can see an additional ruined fortress, but more importantly, have the best view of Machu Pichu. I looked up at the mountain, learned about the hour to hour and a half hike, and suggested maybe we just see Machu Pichu first and see if D would show up. It seemed a lot to tackle, especially for my dad.
But it was something my father had really wanted to do, so we set off, leaving G behind to wait for my brother.
It´s safe tos ay that the hike tested my father. Most of it was nothing more than huge stone steps corkscrewing around the mountain to the top. We had to stop quite a few times to let him rest and I was worried a few times that I´d be seeing him descend via lifeflight helicopter. But no, he made it.
The descent was much easier, and we were pushing close to the time we´d set up to rendezvous with G, and hopefully, my brother, so I went ahead. It was less than half the time coming down as going up, although I´m going to have some sore muscles specific to that part of the hike as well.
Unfortunately, by the time my dad got to the bottom he was wiped out. D had finally arrived, but had suffered. There was bleeding where you don´t want to see blood, pleas for toilet paper from others in the bathroom, and about an hour of feeling quite sick alter he entered the archeological site. My Dad wanted to rest, my brother had seen everything that interested him, and my brother-in-law was content to sit on the grass with them and look at the llamas and the mountains and the ruins.
I really wanted to go through the various temples and houses, take some pictures, everything. I´d been there several hours and hadn´t really seen anything of Machu Pichu itself. My brother was getting kind of irritated, and kept suggesting that I just go on ahead. So, eventually, I did.
The best thing about waiting until late in the day was that the crowds were gone. The tour busses had scooped up their tour groups of Japanese, French, American, Italian, Russian, etc., tourists and largely left the ruins deserted. Well, deserted is too strong, but it was much quieter.
I came back to where the others had set up camp about an hour later, but they´d left, maybe for the busses back to town, as it was getting rather late by this time. I looked around a few more minutes, then exited the ruins myself and caught the bus to town, not seeing them anywhere along the way. That was predictable, since Machu Pichu is the size of a small city, with dozens of rooms, walls, alleyways, terraces, and hills to hide people.
On the way out, I saw some large chinchilla-looking creatures that a guide told me were called bicachas, living among the niches in a rock wall. An anteater crossed the road in front of our bus. I´m now waiting near the train station, hoping they show up in time. My dad has my train ticket, so it´s either that, or I´m spending the night in Aguas Calientes without any of my luggage.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Ollantaytambo
We hiked to the ruins above Ollantaytambo this afternoon shortly after my last post. My brother-in-law was feeling a bit tired so he went back to the hotel to watch a movie. As we hiked the awesome stone staircase up into the clouds, my brother and I decided that my sister W would have happily changed opportunities with her husband at that moment and we didn´t think she would have chosen the movie.
To be fair, we´d already seen five other sets of ruins, but this was the most impressive of the citadels, even better than Pisaq this morning. It must have taken an incredible effort to build the agricultural terraces and to haul the massive stones of the buildings and temples on top into place. And once above, the sun was going down, shooting what looked like alternating waves of light and dark across the valley, with the snow covered peak in the background.
There were a fair number of tourists when we got there, but the tour busses started pulling out of the parking lot as we hiked upward against a steady stream of downward hikers. By the time we finished, we had the place practically to ourselves. On the inner canyon side of the ruins, the terraces gave way to modern corn fields. My brother and I hiked along the bank of a small mountain stream that fed the irrigated fields. A green patchwork wedged between two mountains and we had ruins to our left.
We tracked down a lavandaria to wash our clothes and then grabbed some food. D and I bought some meat grilling on skewers and then the four of us sat down for a light dinner. I had a bowl of creamed corn soup.
To be fair, we´d already seen five other sets of ruins, but this was the most impressive of the citadels, even better than Pisaq this morning. It must have taken an incredible effort to build the agricultural terraces and to haul the massive stones of the buildings and temples on top into place. And once above, the sun was going down, shooting what looked like alternating waves of light and dark across the valley, with the snow covered peak in the background.
There were a fair number of tourists when we got there, but the tour busses started pulling out of the parking lot as we hiked upward against a steady stream of downward hikers. By the time we finished, we had the place practically to ourselves. On the inner canyon side of the ruins, the terraces gave way to modern corn fields. My brother and I hiked along the bank of a small mountain stream that fed the irrigated fields. A green patchwork wedged between two mountains and we had ruins to our left.
We tracked down a lavandaria to wash our clothes and then grabbed some food. D and I bought some meat grilling on skewers and then the four of us sat down for a light dinner. I had a bowl of creamed corn soup.
Day Four - The Sacred Valley
We hiked the ruins above Pisaq this morning. It was at about 12,000 feet and the ruins are extensive, with buildings, terraces, and steep staircases. A good, hard walk and hike over about an hour. We shared a guide with an Israeli couple, so the information was in English. The guide´s four year-old daughter tagged along, sometimes walking along the very edge of a sheer drop off. At one point, she was sitting on the edge, leaning over to pitch stones over the edge. G put his camera on video mode, filmed the girl, filmed over the edge, and then turned the camera on his face and shook his head.
The guide must have seen the expression on my face. He asked if I was tired and I said, ¨No, your daughter is making me nervous.¨
¨Yeah, she´s making me nervous, too. But she´s grown up here, so she´ll be okay.¨
Well, all it takes is once. If that were L, I´d tell him, ¨Sit right there next to the wall and don´t move.¨
The guide spent a lot of time saying things like, ¨There are walls her before but the Spanish destruction them.¨ At one point he said that the Incas were very tall before the Spaniards came and mixed blood with them, ¨About 2 meters 10.¨ 2.10 meters would be 6´10". I found myself wondering about that, especially since we immediately passed through a tunnel that would have meant ducking for anyone taller than about 5´4".
Earlier in the morning we had spent a few minutes in the Sunday market. There were women with colorful clothing and tall felt hats who were selling fruit and vegetables. The artesanias were further back in the plazuleta.
After seeing the ruins, we continued down the Sacred Valley until we reached Ollataytambo, where we will be spending the next two nights. The view from the balcony at the inn is incredible. You can see the mountains looming on either side, the old ruined city stretching on the hillside a few hundred yards away, and a white-capped peak of the Cordillera Blanca in the distance. I´m not sure I´ve ever had a better view from any hotel I´ve stayed at.
My father hasn´t used the internet much. He thinks my mother isn´t sending email because she doesn´t know if the email can find us down here. I´m suspecting there is a miscommunication somewhere along the line, but it´s safe to say that neither one is an early adapter.
We´re catching the train to Aguas Calientes tomorrow and then hiking the last stretch up to Machu Pichu.
The guide must have seen the expression on my face. He asked if I was tired and I said, ¨No, your daughter is making me nervous.¨
¨Yeah, she´s making me nervous, too. But she´s grown up here, so she´ll be okay.¨
Well, all it takes is once. If that were L, I´d tell him, ¨Sit right there next to the wall and don´t move.¨
The guide spent a lot of time saying things like, ¨There are walls her before but the Spanish destruction them.¨ At one point he said that the Incas were very tall before the Spaniards came and mixed blood with them, ¨About 2 meters 10.¨ 2.10 meters would be 6´10". I found myself wondering about that, especially since we immediately passed through a tunnel that would have meant ducking for anyone taller than about 5´4".
Earlier in the morning we had spent a few minutes in the Sunday market. There were women with colorful clothing and tall felt hats who were selling fruit and vegetables. The artesanias were further back in the plazuleta.
After seeing the ruins, we continued down the Sacred Valley until we reached Ollataytambo, where we will be spending the next two nights. The view from the balcony at the inn is incredible. You can see the mountains looming on either side, the old ruined city stretching on the hillside a few hundred yards away, and a white-capped peak of the Cordillera Blanca in the distance. I´m not sure I´ve ever had a better view from any hotel I´ve stayed at.
My father hasn´t used the internet much. He thinks my mother isn´t sending email because she doesn´t know if the email can find us down here. I´m suspecting there is a miscommunication somewhere along the line, but it´s safe to say that neither one is an early adapter.
We´re catching the train to Aguas Calientes tomorrow and then hiking the last stretch up to Machu Pichu.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Cuy
The guinea pigs live in a little village with houses and doors and bridges. When you approach, they whistle hopefully, thinking you´re bringing food. What you´re really doing is selecting the one you want them to cook for your dinner. They wring it´s neck, cook it in the horno, and serve the crispy little guy up for you to pick the meat off its bones. Looks messy.
We haven´t eaten any yet, but we will soon.
We haven´t eaten any yet, but we will soon.
Day Three - The Sacred Valley
We came around a turn in the road, the Andes looming above us, and the Sacred Valley sprawling below, following the Urambaya River. Pisaq -- our next destination -- stretched along the valley floor. Terraced fields clawed their way up impossibly steep slopes, while a distant snow-covered peak jutted skyward.
We left Cuzco this morning in a cab we´d hired for the day. We visited four different Inca era citadels, each one higher into the mountains. G´s GPS showed the final citadel to be 12,500 feet. The first citadel at Saqsaywayman, had eight, ten foot high stones at the base, each one bigger than a car and who knows how many tons in weight. No mortar, irregular borders; it´s hard to imagine how people assembled this fortress with nothing more than human power and maybe some llamas.
There were people hawking goods at each site. Some of these are nice quality alpaca sweaters and the like, less inexpensive than you´d imagine. There are also the basic knicknacks you´d see throughout Latin America.
People have been acquiring a stream of these items as we go. In the market at Pisaq, D bought a whistle for two soles from a girl. As soon as he started negotiating, several other children gathered around. He bought the largest one, and then felt guilty when the smaller girl said in a plaintive voice, ¨But I was here first.¨ He didn´t buy hers because he wanted the larger size, but I told him by spending an extra sol, he could have saved twenty years of hearing that plaintive voice and seeing that earnest face, clawing at his conscience.
I lost my boleto turistico somehow, which is entrance into all the sites, and had to buy another. I would have stressed about this equal levels whether the thing had cost five bucks or five hundred bucks (it was forty), but I figure when something happens, you´ve got to just let it go or you´ll ruin a day worrying about minor little hiccups.
Everyone is healthy again. D seems to have taken it the worst, fighting off a cold, altitude sickness, constipation, and then diarhea. The altitude in Pisaq is only about 8,000 feet, which helps. Tomorrow, we head deeper into the valley to see more citadels, culminating with Machu Pichu on Monday.
Note: Inca Cola tastes like liquid bubble gum.
We left Cuzco this morning in a cab we´d hired for the day. We visited four different Inca era citadels, each one higher into the mountains. G´s GPS showed the final citadel to be 12,500 feet. The first citadel at Saqsaywayman, had eight, ten foot high stones at the base, each one bigger than a car and who knows how many tons in weight. No mortar, irregular borders; it´s hard to imagine how people assembled this fortress with nothing more than human power and maybe some llamas.
There were people hawking goods at each site. Some of these are nice quality alpaca sweaters and the like, less inexpensive than you´d imagine. There are also the basic knicknacks you´d see throughout Latin America.
People have been acquiring a stream of these items as we go. In the market at Pisaq, D bought a whistle for two soles from a girl. As soon as he started negotiating, several other children gathered around. He bought the largest one, and then felt guilty when the smaller girl said in a plaintive voice, ¨But I was here first.¨ He didn´t buy hers because he wanted the larger size, but I told him by spending an extra sol, he could have saved twenty years of hearing that plaintive voice and seeing that earnest face, clawing at his conscience.
I lost my boleto turistico somehow, which is entrance into all the sites, and had to buy another. I would have stressed about this equal levels whether the thing had cost five bucks or five hundred bucks (it was forty), but I figure when something happens, you´ve got to just let it go or you´ll ruin a day worrying about minor little hiccups.
Everyone is healthy again. D seems to have taken it the worst, fighting off a cold, altitude sickness, constipation, and then diarhea. The altitude in Pisaq is only about 8,000 feet, which helps. Tomorrow, we head deeper into the valley to see more citadels, culminating with Machu Pichu on Monday.
Note: Inca Cola tastes like liquid bubble gum.
Friday, November 6, 2009
More Cuzco
It took us a while to actually meet up with my brother-in-law as we were just missing each other at the hotel. We spent some time in the cathedral and another church and walking through the shops looking at artesanias. After we met G, we went through a museum of pre-colonial art, then watched a parade. There were dancers in traditional costumes and some music. I relented and paid a few soles to two absolutely adorable little children in traditional outfits, carrying a baby llama and my brother and I got our picture taken with them.
There are a zillion places around here offering massage and my brother and I finally went and had a half hour massage done on our feet and lower calves. It was about five dollars and worth every nuevo sol as my feet were getting very tired. G was making a few wisecracks about -special- massages, but we didn´t let him dissuade us.
We´ve made plans to hire a taxi tomorrow to take us around to see some of the citadels in the Sacred Valley and then we´ll be headed over to Machu Pichu on Monday or Tuesday.
There are a zillion places around here offering massage and my brother and I finally went and had a half hour massage done on our feet and lower calves. It was about five dollars and worth every nuevo sol as my feet were getting very tired. G was making a few wisecracks about -special- massages, but we didn´t let him dissuade us.
We´ve made plans to hire a taxi tomorrow to take us around to see some of the citadels in the Sacred Valley and then we´ll be headed over to Machu Pichu on Monday or Tuesday.
Day Two - Cuzco
This morning, the others slept in while I walked down to the Plaza de Armas. There was an old woman there, maybe 4´9", with a tall Andean hat and a huge back loaded onto her back. Skin like leather from decades in the tropical, high-altitude sun. Back bent from years of carrying her load. She was singing something indecipherable in Quechua. I stopped and listened for a few minutes.
I came back to the hotel and had an excellent breakfast, which included fresh fruit, some sort of yoghurt thing with granola, juice, and bread. Just as I finished, the other two surfaced and I sat with them while they ate.
My brother´s altitude sickness passed, thankfully. Last night we went out to a restaurant and ordered alpaca. They were also serving guinea pig (cuy), but we didn´t try that. The alpaca was pretty good, actually. It tasted somewhere between lamb and goat. Stronger than the former, more mild than the latter. Tender meat.
We later hiked up to the Barrio San Blas. Wow, that will suck the oxygen out of your body. The streets were so steep they were stairs only and the walls on either side were made of giant, mishapen Inca blocks, cut to fit and without mortar. We then hiked back down, stopping to shop a bit for alpaca sweaters and stuff for our kids, before returning to the hotel to wait for my brother-in-law, who should be showing up from the airport at any time.
I spoke to some taxi driver about driving us to some of the nearer citadels tomorrow before dropping us off at our new location in the Sacred Valley. This afternoon, once we connect with BIL, we´ll tour the cathedral and other churches around the main plaza, then go to the Inca artifact museum.
I came back to the hotel and had an excellent breakfast, which included fresh fruit, some sort of yoghurt thing with granola, juice, and bread. Just as I finished, the other two surfaced and I sat with them while they ate.
My brother´s altitude sickness passed, thankfully. Last night we went out to a restaurant and ordered alpaca. They were also serving guinea pig (cuy), but we didn´t try that. The alpaca was pretty good, actually. It tasted somewhere between lamb and goat. Stronger than the former, more mild than the latter. Tender meat.
We later hiked up to the Barrio San Blas. Wow, that will suck the oxygen out of your body. The streets were so steep they were stairs only and the walls on either side were made of giant, mishapen Inca blocks, cut to fit and without mortar. We then hiked back down, stopping to shop a bit for alpaca sweaters and stuff for our kids, before returning to the hotel to wait for my brother-in-law, who should be showing up from the airport at any time.
I spoke to some taxi driver about driving us to some of the nearer citadels tomorrow before dropping us off at our new location in the Sacred Valley. This afternoon, once we connect with BIL, we´ll tour the cathedral and other churches around the main plaza, then go to the Inca artifact museum.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Day One - Cuzco
I arrived in Cuzco without incident this morning. Not much sleep on the overnight flight, maybe no more than an hour or so. I`m tired, but nothing of soroche so far. My father also seems to be doing well. My brother, on the other hand, seems to be suffering an unpleasant case of altitude sickness. He`s got a massive headache, felt too nauseous to eat his lunch, and had to get a taxi to take him the three or four blocks back to the hotel. Hopefully, it will pass. In any event, I have no idea why he´d have altitude sickness and we wouldn´t.
Cuzco is an attractive colonial style town and reminds me a lot of what you´d see in Mexico or maybe even Antigua, Guatemala. We´ve done some walking around, but haven´t done much sightseeing yet and will probably hold off on the bigger sights until my brother-in-law shows up tomorrow. We´re going to be here two nights, then go to explore the Inca citadels of the Sacred Valley, then go to Machu Pichu. After that, it´s down into the Amazon for a few days in the rain forest.
Cuzco is an attractive colonial style town and reminds me a lot of what you´d see in Mexico or maybe even Antigua, Guatemala. We´ve done some walking around, but haven´t done much sightseeing yet and will probably hold off on the bigger sights until my brother-in-law shows up tomorrow. We´re going to be here two nights, then go to explore the Inca citadels of the Sacred Valley, then go to Machu Pichu. After that, it´s down into the Amazon for a few days in the rain forest.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Off to Peru
I leave in a couple of hours to go to Peru, where I'm meeting my father, my brother, and my brother-in-law. This is a trip my father has wanted to do for a long time and it will probably be easier now than in another ten years.
My biggest worry is altitude sickness. Cuzco is close to 12,000 feet and for the sake of oxygen saturation levels, I pretty much live at sea level. I've got some prescription tablets to help, but I don't know how well they'll work. Being winded is okay, but having a massive headache, being foggy-headed, and being unable to sleep without feeling like I'm suffocating is another story.
You see all those pictures of Machu Pichu in the mountains, but we'll actually be descending about 4,000 feet to get there, so this might be a time when the altitude sickness subsides a bit.
We're taking a plane down into the Amazon midway through the trip. No altitude sickness there, just heat and bugs and tropical diseases. I've got my anti-malarials, and my yellow fever vaccination and bugs don't bother me much. That leaves the heat, but that's a known quantity. It's the unknown about the altitude sickness that worries me.
I'd like to post some reports from the road, like I did in Tunisia, but since I have three travel companions, I don't know how much time I'll have. I'm sure there will be a few chances, at least.
My biggest worry is altitude sickness. Cuzco is close to 12,000 feet and for the sake of oxygen saturation levels, I pretty much live at sea level. I've got some prescription tablets to help, but I don't know how well they'll work. Being winded is okay, but having a massive headache, being foggy-headed, and being unable to sleep without feeling like I'm suffocating is another story.
You see all those pictures of Machu Pichu in the mountains, but we'll actually be descending about 4,000 feet to get there, so this might be a time when the altitude sickness subsides a bit.
We're taking a plane down into the Amazon midway through the trip. No altitude sickness there, just heat and bugs and tropical diseases. I've got my anti-malarials, and my yellow fever vaccination and bugs don't bother me much. That leaves the heat, but that's a known quantity. It's the unknown about the altitude sickness that worries me.
I'd like to post some reports from the road, like I did in Tunisia, but since I have three travel companions, I don't know how much time I'll have. I'm sure there will be a few chances, at least.
Trip Advisor
I really don't like the Trip Advisor site. We can have fifty people stay at the inn, say how much they loved the room and breakfast, but it's always the one disgruntled person who leaves the scathing review. And it doesn't even have to be true. We had someone smoke heavily in the room and we had to charge them, so they promptly rushed off to Trip Advisor and left a bogus review that will now be visible for years and years and years to anyone who goes to the site. Seriously, they just made stuff up and there's nothing I can do about it.
But since of course I wouldn't like negative reviews about myself, let me highlight a couple of recent examples from one of the other local inns. I'd call them competitors, but there really aren't any competitors in the valley, as each property is a little different and very frequently we refer people to this place and they refer to us. Personally, I think they're great people and from what I've seen of their property, it's a fine place to stay. In any event, I've seen their property and know what it does and doesn't offer.
I'm excerpting from the reviews with my comments in bold:
Bait and Switch at the [REDACTED]
If you try this search in Google today Oct., 28, 2009, “[BIG SKI RESORT] ski and stay”. The first organic URL listing: [COMPETITOR'S WEB SITE]
You will find that the midweek ski & stay rate is $79.00 per person/per night. That includes lift ticket, breakfast, and shuttle. But if you call to make the reservation they say, sorry those are last year's rates. This year's rates are higher. (Michael: Yes, the resort basically did away with their lodging discounts this year.)
I realize this may be a simple error and not a bait and switch tactic, but they could at lease honor the rate as it is advertised. HORRABLE CUSTOMER SERVICE! If they can't honor pricing on their live web pages then they should at least give the rater advertised to the mislead consumer. If they are not willing to do that for customers, what else won't they do?
Michael: They couldn't honor that price because there are no discount tickets to buy for the package. I suppose they could have paid their own price and given away about $80 per couple to have these people stay there. What happened is that we just barely got the bad news about lift tickets and there was some discussion back and forth with the resort to try to get them to change the price and so I imagine this other inn didn't rush out and change the web site, which was showing last year's price, after all, while they waited to see what would happen. Meanwhile, this review will make the other inn look like liars for the next how many years? The rant continues for another couple of paragraphs that I've cut for redundancy.
The important thing to note is that this person left a long negative review, and never even stayed at the hotel they were reviewing.
(Side note: I don't actually list a package price on my web site, just say to call for package info.)
Beware paper thin walls = no sleep!
The lodge is overpriced. They lied on their website about the price they actually charge.(Michael: I don't think so. Usually people don't understand the difference between midweek off-season and peak foliage weekends. I'm guessing they didn't check very carefully.) Also the rooms are out of date and I am not sure where they got the picture on their website because the room I stayed in looked like it came out of a budget motel. The bathroom did not function, the fan was noisy, the toilet did not work, and the lighting was horrible. (Michael: I've seen the pics on the web site. They look accurate to me. And did the toilet really not work? The fan was noisy?)
My biggest complaint is the fact that they put us in a room with paper thin walls. I had driven 8 hours and had to stay next to a room full of loud people in a lodge with paper thin walls. The price I had paid was outrageous for paper thin walls and outdated furniture with lights that did not even work. The main door to our room did not close fully and as a result rays of light from the hallway were beaming into my eyes while I was trying to sleep. (Michael: Those noisy guests are terrible; I've had them here too, and usually with someone excessively fussy next door. It's almost impossible to do anything about them except keep calling and asking them to keep down the noise. But the door didn't shut? I find that hard to believe. And the light was beaming into your eyes?)
When I complained to the staff, they told us that we could not back out of our reservation and that they could do little more to control the situation other than to just talk to our noisy neighbors. That just made me even more furious, to where I called up a B&B down the road and only paid the [REDACTED] one night and called my credit card company to deny further payment. I packed my bags and stormed out of the lodge.
The breakfast was horrible and limited selection. Come early because they will run out and not restock.
My best advice: stay at a B&B down the road and get more for your money.
Michael: This sounds to me like a case of mismatched expectations. I've never tried their food, but the inn in question offers a "continental breakfast." It is what it is. If you want a full breakfast, you stay somewhere else. I'd say here, since we offer a full breakfast, but I'm very glad this guest didn't stay here or this review might be for my inn instead. The point is, if you want a fancier place, stay somewhere else. The place in question doesn't try to offer the high-end B&B experience, and they don't claim to do so. You could stay at the B&B down the road, as the reviewer suggests, but you'd pay an extra $50/night.
I don't know about the other complaint. Maybe the inn didn't offer a full refund, as they'd no doubt turned people away who would have paid for the room and been happy to stay there. It doesn't really matter if the inn was at fault here or the guest, because only the guest has the right to put up a review that will negatively affect the business of this place for the next umpteen years. This would be fine, if people who were happy staying, who come again and again, would also put up a review. My experience is that they don't.
But since of course I wouldn't like negative reviews about myself, let me highlight a couple of recent examples from one of the other local inns. I'd call them competitors, but there really aren't any competitors in the valley, as each property is a little different and very frequently we refer people to this place and they refer to us. Personally, I think they're great people and from what I've seen of their property, it's a fine place to stay. In any event, I've seen their property and know what it does and doesn't offer.
I'm excerpting from the reviews with my comments in bold:
Bait and Switch at the [REDACTED]
If you try this search in Google today Oct., 28, 2009, “[BIG SKI RESORT] ski and stay”. The first organic URL listing: [COMPETITOR'S WEB SITE]
You will find that the midweek ski & stay rate is $79.00 per person/per night. That includes lift ticket, breakfast, and shuttle. But if you call to make the reservation they say, sorry those are last year's rates. This year's rates are higher. (Michael: Yes, the resort basically did away with their lodging discounts this year.)
I realize this may be a simple error and not a bait and switch tactic, but they could at lease honor the rate as it is advertised. HORRABLE CUSTOMER SERVICE! If they can't honor pricing on their live web pages then they should at least give the rater advertised to the mislead consumer. If they are not willing to do that for customers, what else won't they do?
Michael: They couldn't honor that price because there are no discount tickets to buy for the package. I suppose they could have paid their own price and given away about $80 per couple to have these people stay there. What happened is that we just barely got the bad news about lift tickets and there was some discussion back and forth with the resort to try to get them to change the price and so I imagine this other inn didn't rush out and change the web site, which was showing last year's price, after all, while they waited to see what would happen. Meanwhile, this review will make the other inn look like liars for the next how many years? The rant continues for another couple of paragraphs that I've cut for redundancy.
The important thing to note is that this person left a long negative review, and never even stayed at the hotel they were reviewing.
(Side note: I don't actually list a package price on my web site, just say to call for package info.)
Beware paper thin walls = no sleep!
The lodge is overpriced. They lied on their website about the price they actually charge.(Michael: I don't think so. Usually people don't understand the difference between midweek off-season and peak foliage weekends. I'm guessing they didn't check very carefully.) Also the rooms are out of date and I am not sure where they got the picture on their website because the room I stayed in looked like it came out of a budget motel. The bathroom did not function, the fan was noisy, the toilet did not work, and the lighting was horrible. (Michael: I've seen the pics on the web site. They look accurate to me. And did the toilet really not work? The fan was noisy?)
My biggest complaint is the fact that they put us in a room with paper thin walls. I had driven 8 hours and had to stay next to a room full of loud people in a lodge with paper thin walls. The price I had paid was outrageous for paper thin walls and outdated furniture with lights that did not even work. The main door to our room did not close fully and as a result rays of light from the hallway were beaming into my eyes while I was trying to sleep. (Michael: Those noisy guests are terrible; I've had them here too, and usually with someone excessively fussy next door. It's almost impossible to do anything about them except keep calling and asking them to keep down the noise. But the door didn't shut? I find that hard to believe. And the light was beaming into your eyes?)
When I complained to the staff, they told us that we could not back out of our reservation and that they could do little more to control the situation other than to just talk to our noisy neighbors. That just made me even more furious, to where I called up a B&B down the road and only paid the [REDACTED] one night and called my credit card company to deny further payment. I packed my bags and stormed out of the lodge.
The breakfast was horrible and limited selection. Come early because they will run out and not restock.
My best advice: stay at a B&B down the road and get more for your money.
Michael: This sounds to me like a case of mismatched expectations. I've never tried their food, but the inn in question offers a "continental breakfast." It is what it is. If you want a full breakfast, you stay somewhere else. I'd say here, since we offer a full breakfast, but I'm very glad this guest didn't stay here or this review might be for my inn instead. The point is, if you want a fancier place, stay somewhere else. The place in question doesn't try to offer the high-end B&B experience, and they don't claim to do so. You could stay at the B&B down the road, as the reviewer suggests, but you'd pay an extra $50/night.
I don't know about the other complaint. Maybe the inn didn't offer a full refund, as they'd no doubt turned people away who would have paid for the room and been happy to stay there. It doesn't really matter if the inn was at fault here or the guest, because only the guest has the right to put up a review that will negatively affect the business of this place for the next umpteen years. This would be fine, if people who were happy staying, who come again and again, would also put up a review. My experience is that they don't.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Six Years
Today marks the six year anniversary of our arrival at the inn. We showed up with a U-Haul full of our stuff, no jobs, no house, hoping that we'd end up closing on the inn.
The first winter was an adventure, especially the first Christmas week, when we filled up with guests and figured out all the broken and finicky stuff. We had an eight year-old and two four year-olds and they went feral as we worked around the clock, occasionally emerging to toss them a bite to eat.
Fortunately, that first winter was crazy busy and we did really well financially. It gave us the confidence to hire housekeeping help and the money to get started on what has now amounted to $270,000 in building improvements and counting.
I can't say it has been all ups, as there have been some exhausting, frustrating, nerve-wracking moments, but with the new addition to finally improve our living quarters and my taking over most of M's inn responsibilities as she has gradually eased back into her old technical writing job, I think we've found a work/life balance that we can work with.
The first winter was an adventure, especially the first Christmas week, when we filled up with guests and figured out all the broken and finicky stuff. We had an eight year-old and two four year-olds and they went feral as we worked around the clock, occasionally emerging to toss them a bite to eat.
Fortunately, that first winter was crazy busy and we did really well financially. It gave us the confidence to hire housekeeping help and the money to get started on what has now amounted to $270,000 in building improvements and counting.
I can't say it has been all ups, as there have been some exhausting, frustrating, nerve-wracking moments, but with the new addition to finally improve our living quarters and my taking over most of M's inn responsibilities as she has gradually eased back into her old technical writing job, I think we've found a work/life balance that we can work with.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Almost Done - This Time For Real
We finally got the last of the lighting installed with one closet light that needs to be swapped out before we can get the final electrical inspection. Apart from that, the contractor needs to raise the door to accommodate tiling the mud room (the one unfinished part, due to lack of funds) and then do a final raking with the tractor to repair the chewed up landscaping. I have one final check to write once that is done and then the money pain will start to recede in the rear-view mirror.
In the final analysis, we're really happy with the space. It feels like a luxury to have our own bathroom and the living room will allow us to entertain guests for the first time since moving to Vermont. It also means that if friends or family visit we can welcome them without caveats. If the inn rooms fill up with paying guests, we can just let them use the addition as a private suite and make do with what we had for a couple of days.
Having said that, I'm not sure I would have pulled the trigger if I'd known how much the final bill would be. I explained in an earlier post what caused the cost overruns. I've done enough work by now, both at the inn and in earlier homes and rentals that I should have seen this coming. I'll definitely be more careful in pinning down every possible overage in the future.
I tend to be conservative with my money, so I don't like this feeling of having depleted both our business reserves and our personal reserves. Fortunately, winter is coming (and hopefully the snow), and Melinda still has her job. If we can hang on for two more months we should be fine.
We did manage our number one financial goal with this project, which was to avoid borrowing any money to get it done.
In the final analysis, we're really happy with the space. It feels like a luxury to have our own bathroom and the living room will allow us to entertain guests for the first time since moving to Vermont. It also means that if friends or family visit we can welcome them without caveats. If the inn rooms fill up with paying guests, we can just let them use the addition as a private suite and make do with what we had for a couple of days.
Having said that, I'm not sure I would have pulled the trigger if I'd known how much the final bill would be. I explained in an earlier post what caused the cost overruns. I've done enough work by now, both at the inn and in earlier homes and rentals that I should have seen this coming. I'll definitely be more careful in pinning down every possible overage in the future.
I tend to be conservative with my money, so I don't like this feeling of having depleted both our business reserves and our personal reserves. Fortunately, winter is coming (and hopefully the snow), and Melinda still has her job. If we can hang on for two more months we should be fine.
We did manage our number one financial goal with this project, which was to avoid borrowing any money to get it done.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Shine On, Arthur
We were standing in line to pick up breakfast at McDonalds this morning when an elderly woman approached my wife. "I hope this won't offend you, but..." M braced herself for a comment about naughty, boistrous children.
We had taken advantage of the quiet inn and a two day school break to head south to Newport, Rhode Island where we lived before buying the inn six years ago. The first day was lovely weather, the second cold, rainy, and overcast. Good weather or bad, we quickly remembered everything we loved about Newport. There is history on every corner, and beauty whereever you look, from the harbor with the graceful span of the bridge and the sailboats dotting the harbor, to the view of the Gilded Age mansions of Astors and Rockefellers along the cliff walk, to the vistas off the Ocean Drive.
It was fun to walk past our old house and then along Thames Street into the historic shopping district. It felt like old times except that instead of pushing a double wide stroller for the twins, we just had one little guy and his double dose of energy.
This morning we got an early start and were just over the border into Massachusetts when we stopped to grab breakfast at McDonalds. The woman and her friend got my wife's attention while I was placing my order.
"If it wouldn't offend you, I'd like to buy your family breakfast for my husband's soul." She handed my wife a twenty dollar bill. M tried to decline graciously, but she said, "Please, I would like to do this in memory of my husband. His name was Arthur."
M got my attention and I was too surprised or flustered to do much more than say thank you. But as I paid for the meal I started to wonder if this was the anniversary of her husband's death, if she did this sort of thing on a regular basis, or if there was just something about our family that reminded her of some other place and time.
I stepped outside just as her friend started to drive off in the car. They saw me and rolled down the window. "Thank you very much," I said. "That was very kind. Your husband must have been a wonderful man."
She nodded and her eyes were moist. "Yes, yes he was."
This post is for you Arthur, and for your wife, who loved you very much and performs random acts of kindness in your memory.
We had taken advantage of the quiet inn and a two day school break to head south to Newport, Rhode Island where we lived before buying the inn six years ago. The first day was lovely weather, the second cold, rainy, and overcast. Good weather or bad, we quickly remembered everything we loved about Newport. There is history on every corner, and beauty whereever you look, from the harbor with the graceful span of the bridge and the sailboats dotting the harbor, to the view of the Gilded Age mansions of Astors and Rockefellers along the cliff walk, to the vistas off the Ocean Drive.
It was fun to walk past our old house and then along Thames Street into the historic shopping district. It felt like old times except that instead of pushing a double wide stroller for the twins, we just had one little guy and his double dose of energy.
This morning we got an early start and were just over the border into Massachusetts when we stopped to grab breakfast at McDonalds. The woman and her friend got my wife's attention while I was placing my order.
"If it wouldn't offend you, I'd like to buy your family breakfast for my husband's soul." She handed my wife a twenty dollar bill. M tried to decline graciously, but she said, "Please, I would like to do this in memory of my husband. His name was Arthur."
M got my attention and I was too surprised or flustered to do much more than say thank you. But as I paid for the meal I started to wonder if this was the anniversary of her husband's death, if she did this sort of thing on a regular basis, or if there was just something about our family that reminded her of some other place and time.
I stepped outside just as her friend started to drive off in the car. They saw me and rolled down the window. "Thank you very much," I said. "That was very kind. Your husband must have been a wonderful man."
She nodded and her eyes were moist. "Yes, yes he was."
This post is for you Arthur, and for your wife, who loved you very much and performs random acts of kindness in your memory.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Foliage Stragglers
We've welcomed more foliage stragglers this week. Maybe a third of these are foreign. This is a group of people that often seem to be out of synch with the colors of the leaves. They come early or late or they arrive with glum faces in the middle of a downpour.
The downpour stuff is unavoidable. Most foliage guests from the northeast travel when the news says the colors are good and the weather is looking clear. This is why we have so many walk-ins. People come up on a whim or they are just driving around with no real goal or itinerary. For the Europeans, they've planned their trip months in advance and are here for two or three weeks regardless.
But coming a week or two early or late indicates poor planning, a poor choice of guidebooks, or both. We had one German couple on Sunday and Monday who have been in New England for two weeks. They started in Connecticut and Massachusetts and worked their way north to New Hampshire and Vermont. This is exactly opposite to what they should have done.
To make matters worse, it has been unusually cold these last couple of weeks. Lots of frost, a bit of snow, some chill rain. I don't usually expect this kind of weather for another month. I'd like to think it's a harbinger of a cold, snowy winter to come, but you know what they say about New England weather. If you don't like it, wait fifteen minutes.
We haven't been full (or even close to it) since Sunday, October 11th, but since then we've had ten walk-ins.
The downpour stuff is unavoidable. Most foliage guests from the northeast travel when the news says the colors are good and the weather is looking clear. This is why we have so many walk-ins. People come up on a whim or they are just driving around with no real goal or itinerary. For the Europeans, they've planned their trip months in advance and are here for two or three weeks regardless.
But coming a week or two early or late indicates poor planning, a poor choice of guidebooks, or both. We had one German couple on Sunday and Monday who have been in New England for two weeks. They started in Connecticut and Massachusetts and worked their way north to New Hampshire and Vermont. This is exactly opposite to what they should have done.
To make matters worse, it has been unusually cold these last couple of weeks. Lots of frost, a bit of snow, some chill rain. I don't usually expect this kind of weather for another month. I'd like to think it's a harbinger of a cold, snowy winter to come, but you know what they say about New England weather. If you don't like it, wait fifteen minutes.
We haven't been full (or even close to it) since Sunday, October 11th, but since then we've had ten walk-ins.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Changing Gears
Time to start thinking about something else. The addition is almost done, save for a few light fixtures to install and a bit of touch-up pain. We finished our great run of Working with a matinee yesterday and a bittersweet cast part. Finally, foliage is dead, the cold has arrived and there's nothing left to do but hold on financially until business picks up at Christmas time.
And so I turn my attention to Peru. I leave on November 5 and will be meeting my father, my brother, and my brother-in-law in Cuzco. We've got tickets and a stay booked in the rain forest, but everything else is a little hazy. My father sent some thoughts on our other in-country activities, but I haven't yet had a chance to look it over.
It's not quite clear sailing until November 5, even though the weekly calendar has just opened up. I've got a bunch of bills, tax stuff, etc. to tackle before I go. There's a never ending stream of paperwork to deal with in this gig.
And so I turn my attention to Peru. I leave on November 5 and will be meeting my father, my brother, and my brother-in-law in Cuzco. We've got tickets and a stay booked in the rain forest, but everything else is a little hazy. My father sent some thoughts on our other in-country activities, but I haven't yet had a chance to look it over.
It's not quite clear sailing until November 5, even though the weekly calendar has just opened up. I've got a bunch of bills, tax stuff, etc. to tackle before I go. There's a never ending stream of paperwork to deal with in this gig.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Not a Power User
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 97 of a 737 part series
So the guy who was asking about free internet came into the breakfast room just now a bit agitated because he couldn't get online in spite of having come back last night to purchase a voucher. He wanted my help connecting.
I knew I wasn't dealing with a power user when he flipped open his laptop and there was a piece of paper taped down like this: PRESS THIS BUTTON---> (@)
The man followed this instruction carefully, and this button was, in fact, the power button for the laptop.
His problem was simple, just needing to tell the computer to connect, but then he needed help closing a window with a calendar that he accidentally opened and then entering the wireless password, and then navigating to his netzero email. He said, "I saw an ad for a laptop at Walmart for $298.00 and I thought that even I could afford that and see what this email stuff was all about."
I don't know what's more amazing, that there are still average looking adults who are just trying out the internet, or that you can actually buy a new laptop for three hundred bucks.
This sort of thing used to be more common. Like most people with a computer background, I spent the last half of the 90s helping family and friends troubleshoot basic computer problems. Just six years ago, when we bought the inn, about one in four people needed a snail mail confirmation. This number has dwindled until only one in twenty or maybe one in thirty don't have an email.
And three hundred bucks? Really? That's how much I'm paying per window in the addition. I tried to get a replacement lens cap for my camera and they wanted $57. A hot tub cover is $350. It costs me a couple hundred for a five gallon bucket of paint. How can you possibly make something as complex as a computer for $300?
So the guy who was asking about free internet came into the breakfast room just now a bit agitated because he couldn't get online in spite of having come back last night to purchase a voucher. He wanted my help connecting.
I knew I wasn't dealing with a power user when he flipped open his laptop and there was a piece of paper taped down like this: PRESS THIS BUTTON---> (@)
The man followed this instruction carefully, and this button was, in fact, the power button for the laptop.
His problem was simple, just needing to tell the computer to connect, but then he needed help closing a window with a calendar that he accidentally opened and then entering the wireless password, and then navigating to his netzero email. He said, "I saw an ad for a laptop at Walmart for $298.00 and I thought that even I could afford that and see what this email stuff was all about."
I don't know what's more amazing, that there are still average looking adults who are just trying out the internet, or that you can actually buy a new laptop for three hundred bucks.
This sort of thing used to be more common. Like most people with a computer background, I spent the last half of the 90s helping family and friends troubleshoot basic computer problems. Just six years ago, when we bought the inn, about one in four people needed a snail mail confirmation. This number has dwindled until only one in twenty or maybe one in thirty don't have an email.
And three hundred bucks? Really? That's how much I'm paying per window in the addition. I tried to get a replacement lens cap for my camera and they wanted $57. A hot tub cover is $350. It costs me a couple hundred for a five gallon bucket of paint. How can you possibly make something as complex as a computer for $300?
Monday, October 12, 2009
More Memories of the White Glove Lady
There's an odd sort of guest we get who has a weird phobia of our mattresses and/or bedding. I'm guessing they've seen some 20/20 expose about fleas in hotels or something or an undercover report that claimed that the typical hotel never washed the bedspread. Of course, this is not us. Our mattresses are new, we wash our blankets, and a linen service brings our sheets nicely pressed and sterilized.
On occasion, I'll go into a room to find that someone has pulled all the covers off and put their sleeping bag on top of the mattress. Or weirder still, they've taken everything off the bed and made a nest for themselves on the floor. Maybe the mattress wasn't firm enough?
White Glove Lady rearranged the furniture in the room to move the bed as far as possible from the door. She pulled the mattress off and propped it in such a way that you'd have to push past it to get into the room and then set up her bed on the box springs.
I have no idea why, except that she was obviously residing in a strange and magical land far, far from here.
On occasion, I'll go into a room to find that someone has pulled all the covers off and put their sleeping bag on top of the mattress. Or weirder still, they've taken everything off the bed and made a nest for themselves on the floor. Maybe the mattress wasn't firm enough?
White Glove Lady rearranged the furniture in the room to move the bed as far as possible from the door. She pulled the mattress off and propped it in such a way that you'd have to push past it to get into the room and then set up her bed on the box springs.
I have no idea why, except that she was obviously residing in a strange and magical land far, far from here.
Pas Tous Les Americains Sont Monolingue
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 96 of a 737 part series
We've had a couple of walk-ins tonight. Foliage stragglers, which is fine, because as soon as this is done, the money dries to a trickle until Christmas week. Given that I just wrote out a low five figure check for my property taxes, and I'm still on the hook for about 14,000 for the addition, I'll take whatever I can get.
This couple was French and after I showed them the room, they started chatting among themselves. The benefit of speaking a foreign language is that you can act as if there is nobody else in the room. Usually.
"Seems fine to me, unless you want to keep going south," the man said.
"No, this is good. But, uhm, see if you can get the price down a bit."
He turned to me and said in a thick accent. "There is a place in that town we saw that is less. Do you have better price?"
I said, "Malheuresment, c'est un prix fixe."
We settled quickly after that.
(Do you think I can write off my next trip to France as a business expense?)
We've had a couple of walk-ins tonight. Foliage stragglers, which is fine, because as soon as this is done, the money dries to a trickle until Christmas week. Given that I just wrote out a low five figure check for my property taxes, and I'm still on the hook for about 14,000 for the addition, I'll take whatever I can get.
This couple was French and after I showed them the room, they started chatting among themselves. The benefit of speaking a foreign language is that you can act as if there is nobody else in the room. Usually.
"Seems fine to me, unless you want to keep going south," the man said.
"No, this is good. But, uhm, see if you can get the price down a bit."
He turned to me and said in a thick accent. "There is a place in that town we saw that is less. Do you have better price?"
I said, "Malheuresment, c'est un prix fixe."
We settled quickly after that.
(Do you think I can write off my next trip to France as a business expense?)
Too Rich for Your Blood?
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 95 of a 737 part series
Guest just walked into the front room. "Do you know anywhere in town where I can get wireless internet?"
Michael: "We have it here. It's provided by a third party and costs a dollar for a one-day voucher. You can get the signal from your room."
Guest: "Oh, but is there anywhere in town where I can get it for free?"
Michael: "I don't know, maybe the coffee shop?"
Guest: "Well, there must be somewhere out there that has it. Maybe I'll drive around for awhile and see, but I guess if I can't find it, I can come back and pay the money here. How much did you say it costs?"
Michael: "One dollar. For twenty-four hours."
Guest just walked into the front room. "Do you know anywhere in town where I can get wireless internet?"
Michael: "We have it here. It's provided by a third party and costs a dollar for a one-day voucher. You can get the signal from your room."
Guest: "Oh, but is there anywhere in town where I can get it for free?"
Michael: "I don't know, maybe the coffee shop?"
Guest: "Well, there must be somewhere out there that has it. Maybe I'll drive around for awhile and see, but I guess if I can't find it, I can come back and pay the money here. How much did you say it costs?"
Michael: "One dollar. For twenty-four hours."
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