This trip, too many times, I had long layovers and no time later/earlier to run. So I learned the brilliant option of checking your bags. Sometimes, as in Cuzco, they charge way too much. But at least they store your stuff.
After changing in the VIP Lounge (where they stored my bags securely), I headed out to run to Plaza de los Armes. On the way, I stopped at a pharmacy to get much-needed Cipro. No prescription necessary, just a short chat with a pharmacists and 5 soles later (or around $1.60USD), I got medicine that tamed my wild Peruvian belly.
And then I kept running. I ran fast. I asked a friendly painter for directions. ‘Ay, muy linda,’ he told me of the plaza. And I ran.
I ran past tourism like I hate it, like I haven’t seen in a while. While running, people tried to sell me things, to have me change dollars to soles (Why? Like every smart traveler, I hit up an ATM for the best rate, and I had enough soles!), to get me to hop on the Macchu Picchu tour.
Cuzco was pretty, yes. The hills reminded me of Chacha – but I think Chacha is prettier. It was green and lovely and quaint and colonial – but I sometimes get sick of the massive tourism.
After an hour and a half, I re-entered the terminal, people perplexed and amused. I went through security, changed and freshened up in the bathroom. And then I had enough time to buy an internet password, email those I loved one last time before the jungle, and get excited for the next step in my journey.