Dances with Dirt Green Swamp 50 Miler - 3rd time around is 3x as hot!

                So I signed up for the Dances with Dirt – the  50k originally, then decided not to do the Santa Barbara 100 Miler, so switched to the 50 miler. Fifty milers are my favourite distance!

                It was cooler at the start, but we quickly warmed up. The high was 87, but it felt much hotter, especially with the sun, the constant exposed areas, and the incredibly high humidity.

                The race had the usual chill feel at the start of an ultra – joking, bantering, organizing, smiling, complimenting, chatting. I love ultras because you don’t get the super-hyped up stressed-out feeling that tends to permeate road races sometimes.

                We started at 5:30a.m., in complete pitch black darkness. Because I packed when I had food poisoning (Yes, I had food poisoning Sunday night onwards, so my week was a cycle of stomach issues and general weakness.), I forgot a lot of crucial items, including a water bottle with a  functioning top and a headlamp. Luckily, my dad had a headlamp at his place down here, which a volunteer duct taped smaller to fit on my head. I quickly learned it was a miserable option as a running headlamp – it was too heavy. Still, it lit the extremely dark path, which was filled with logs and roots and the usual. It was a 5 mile loop and with lots of tricky footing and extreme focus in following the trail. The course was well-marked with pink flags for fifty milers and reflective tape on the earlier sections in which we’d be running with headlamps. It took 48 minutes for the first section and when we got back to the start/finish/drop bag area, I left behind the heavy headlamp – and ran like hell for a guy running with light.

                “Hey, can I run next to you? My headlamp was really uncomfortable because it’s a borrowed one,” I asked a tall and friendly-looking guy.

                His response? Handing me a small light.

                Thus I stuck with Rob for the next few miles, until shortly after daylight when I hung back to pee. Later, he passed me – he had gotten lost at some point. I found the course exceptionally well-marked, but a few people still did get lost – which made me hyper alert.

                After I was alone, I began smelling campfire. No, make that fire. The course went through an area that had recently had a forest fire, and some of it was still smoldering. That gave a rather eerie mood to that area with small bits of smoke rising from the embers. My stomach also began hurting a little at this point, and I realized doing an ultra so soon after food poisoning was probably not a good idea. Oh well. Too late. I swallowed hard and hoped I could finish.

                The course is fairly flat (It’s Florida!) with some short ups and downs, nothing too crazy, with lots of running through fields and through little weird forest paths and past where armadillos live (though I didn’t see any). I ended up with lots of dirt inside my shoes, and my legs were pretty filthy upon finishing. The exposed sections felt especially brutal and it’s no wonder I had a sunburn after. The volunteers were super friendly, joking with me, being very helpful. The aid stations didn’t feature the most amazing food, but were fully stocked with all the basics, which was great.

                My back began aching, possibly from putting a much bigger than normal water bottle in my waistpack. Also, my hamstrings began cramping up, something that never happens, which was probably due to the heat. I was taking an endurolyte every hour, drinking a cup of Gatorade at every aid station table, and managing down just a few saletines every aid station. I also ate two and a half packs of Power Gel Blasts/Honey Stingers, but only one gu. My stomach was still destroyed from food poisoning. My whole body hurt – back, hamstrings, feet, oh my god, my toenails, all the dirt in my shoes was definitely causing blisters.

                And the heat. It was so hot. At one point, after peeing, everything felt all hot and horrible and I knew I was on the verge of being in trouble. So I squirted water in my face, poured it on my head, and walked. I was too hot. I needed to cool down. I spent time at aid stations putting ice in my bottles, drinking more Gatorade, and trying to remain mindful of my body and how it felt.

                The race went on. I wanted to cry, I was in so many pain. Everywhere. It was hot. Blindingly sunny. Humid. Every step ached. I laughed when I got near the water crossing, and my legs were so tired, I almost fell in.

                The course consists of a 5 mile loop, a 20 mile loop, repeat the 20 mile loop, and cruelly, do that 5 mile loop again. I say cruelly because when I was rehydrating and getting ready to finish my last 5 miles, they were announcing the winners of the 50miler. Grrrrr. I was still running.

                That five hour energy shot may have worked, or maybe it was my determination, or maybe it was that this part was shady – but I did great. I didn’t run as fast as my first loop obviously, but I kept up a steady pace, was laughing. Where the hell was the finish? This wasn’t five miles, it was fifteen. Oh my god. Faster. Push it. Yes.

                And the finish line. As I ran past the aid station that had helped me so many times so kindly, they erupted into cheers. I was so happy, I finished with my hands in the air.

                And then – the news.

                First in my age group, fourth woman overall. I took home a snazzy mug and a neat little clip light.

                And you know what?

                I bet I’ll be back next year – for more dirt, fun, and sun!

   Side Observation:
             I know why people run with headphones. Not only did I have Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie in my head, but I also had Wilson Phillip’s Hold On stuck in my head. I couldn’t get them out of my head, though when I ran through tricky-to-run-through Lord of the Rings-like gnome land, I sang Total Eclipse of the Heart out loud, much to the amusement of some spectators waiting to watch me do the water crossing (which luckily, was much shallower this year and didn’t require getting wet unless you were clumsy).

DRIVE

Drive ready.

Keys in ignition. Wave goodbye to Grandma as put car in reverse going too fast. Windows open, at least until the highway. Flip through radio. Nothing good. Nothing good. Get cut off. Sweating. Traffic. Lights. Cars. Traffic. Flip through radio. Nothing good.
 
On the highway. GPS instructions. Time ticking by too slowly. Slow down as I drive through booth. Take ticket. Where should I put that I won't lose it? In my bra. Drive. Faster. Sweating. Hot sun through windows. I'm getting a tan. AC is up. Not helping. Sweating. Seats soaked. Flip through radio. Nothing good.

Lean back. Lean forward. Pass that stupid car. They're tailgating me. Faster. Slower. Shit. A cop. Car won't read this CD. Why won't any radio stations playing "Rolling in the Deep" down here? Why isn't anyone calling me? Uncomfortable. Shift in seat.

See a Publix, swing car in, realizing I need coconut water. Buy it. Nothing else looks appetizing. Food poisoning after effects linger on. Back in car. Why is there traffic? Flip through radio. Nothing good.

Get to a booth. Exact change only. But - but - there's no cash booth? Ask car behind me; the truck behind them helps. Somehow, car trunk open. Slam it closed, throw quarters in, drive like hell.

Faster. Oh my god, how do people do this every day?

Drive. Flip through radio. Nothing good. Are we there yet?

Food. Off the highway, so it's not bad. Otherwise, it would be deep fried and meat. And that's not my style. Sip more water. Stay hydrated for tomorrow's 50 miler.

Drive. Drive. This town is frightening. Gas station - which side is the tank on? Pump six gallons into the car. And then park by hotel - really, this is what I booked on kayak.com?

And shower. Play music on computer. In bed. It's better than driving. Anything else.

Floridays

I call them Floridays....

Floriday mornings....


Get up early, pull on running clothes (of course), towel, water, keys, and head to the car. Drive with windows open, music on, smile on my face.

And onto the sand. Run at whatever pace I want. Sprint when there are seagulls. Slow down when the sand gets tricky. Find the flattest, hardest part of the sand. Love the squish of feet between the feet.


Know tomorrow will be tough, fifty miles of fun. But today is fun. 


And after, straight into the water with running clothes on, letting the waves cleanse and excite me.


Good morning, Floriday!

Dances with Dirt 50 miler...Again!

It's my third year in a row running the Dances with Dirt Green Swamp 50 Miler down in Florida, and while I wouldn't say it's the most spectacular race, I do like it. The folks are nice that organize it, it's small and not too crazy, the course isn't too insane, it's a great training run for longer ultras, plus, it's close to Gram.


I'm not in my best shape ever - I know this. A trip to Peru filled with tummy troubles and high altitude asthma problems, followed by more asthma problems, led me to finally regain my strength - only to be slammed with a case of food poisoning on Sunday. (Oh, Whole Foods salad bar, how could you fail me?) earlier this week - leading my body to become completely sick. Today is the first day since Sunday that I feel hungry - I just have felt too ill and too weak to want to eat.


But beach running today and yesterday have filled me with love and energy for the long run - though the runs were short, they were short in recovery from illness, and in preparation for Saturday's race.


Yes, it involved a flight, a long drive (4 hours each way from Gram's), plus hotel's, an annoying drive, did I mention a long drive? But it's fun. It'll be a beautiful day running my favourite distance - and what better way to spend a day than running?


Well, yes, sleeping in late with one's love and brunch and all that is also a wonderful way to spend a day...and yes, the beach...but this comes in just with those!

Airports....

airport madness—hordes of humans rushing and stumbling around luggage-crammed corridors, announcements blaring arrivals, departures, delays—i sit. i eat a muffin in the midst of chaos, crumbs falling in my lap, on the floor. people passing step on my muffin crumbs, carrying bits of my muffin in the grooves of their shoes across the country. perhaps my muffin bits are becoming transcontinental muffin bits. ringing cell phones destroy one’s perception of isolation in foreign areas. people grasp at reality, wondering, what time zone is this? amplified voices rock people out of oblivion and i rise too, rise for my flight, papers falling out of my purse. tickets collected, i.d.s checked, i am selected, randomly, to be searched. (they search everyone’s secrets.) carry-ons spill bras, lipsticks, toothbrushes, batteries, papers, the essentials of humans. shoes removed, pockets emptied, metal detectors bleeping, this complicates the simplified. if a plane were to simply burn up, crash, explode, dismantle itself—in air or sea or land—with deaths, what can we really care about any of this? simplicity eliminates these actions from mattering.

Long Run along the Thames

Yesterday, I aimed to run at least 24 miles.


Unfortunately, not for the first time, the weather ruined my run.


I've heard the expression, "There's no such thing as bad weather, there's only bad clothing." Whoever said that wasn't running in yesterday's condition.


I met up with ultra lister Paul Houston and we took the train to Oxford. We ran to the start of the Thames 100 Miler and watched the runners come in. Wow. They looked dead. Do I look that wretched after running 100 miles? Probably.


Then we ran along the path for nine miles or so - seeing various runners, cheering them on. They were startled at me, because they felt like crap having run over 90 miles and then there's this LOUD boisterous American girl. But they mostly seemed happy.

It was pouring rain during this time, but it was bearable. The trail was ridiculously muddy (poor Centurions!), and I kept slipping.


Then we took a side path and began running towards Oxford in a roundabout way. It sounded like it would be pretty, small villages and such.

But then it began snowing.


And snowing harder.


And windy.


And some icy sleet blowing in our faces.


And horrible.


I was soaked. I couldn't feel my feet, which is problematic after my frostbite last year. My gloves were soaked, I could barely carry my water bottle my hands were so cold. Finally, Paul said to me, "If we want to turn around..."


YES!


I have never been so cold. I was also feeling jetlagged, which has never happened. I felt spacey and dizzy and sick and terrible.

Running back, we ended up in a small town where we warmed up with hot cocoa. Paul bought us gloves and socks, which helped. It took me a while to feel normal (I felt like I was going to pass out for a while.) and get warm.


We hopped on the train back to London, chatting about upcoming races (Paul's training for a 95miler in Scotland), and ignoring the odd looks on our muddy attire.


A hot shower never felt so lovely!

Febapple Frozen Fifty

Once again, I'd like to say, I set out to run 50 kilometers - not more. But of course I got lost and of course I ran more.


I tend to get lost in those sorts of races, but flour trail markings made it even easier this time.


Last year, when I ran this race, it was ridiculously cold, the course was covered with snow, ice, and worst of all, freezing cold puddles of water. I ended up with frostbite. Although since it was the race I did the day before my boyfriend and I got together, I somehow think of it fondly.

I've also run it as the South Mountain 100k (my first 100k ever) and the Mayapple 50k (recovery race after surgery). I loved it those times, so this time, sans snow, I figured it would be a fantastic race.


I did have fun...but it wasn't as fun as other times! Instead of the two loops we previously did, we stuck to one loop that was different than it had been other years - so it really wasn't the same course, just a different race in the same place.


The course is full of some ups and downs, a few technical sections, but nothing too crazy. Mostly, you had to keep your eyes on the ground because the course was marked with flour - which made getting lost very easy. (Nearly everyone I spoke to even got lost - two of them on their third loop (They ran separately from each other.), probably because the flour was really hard to see, especially after so many feet had run over it, and the rain the night before. I'm really not a fan of flour used to mark courses. I know ribbons require more time and more effort before and after - but they make it MUCH easier to see and MUCH harder to get lost.


I started out the first loop running, and ended up seeing Megan, who I hadn't seen since I ran Boston in 2009 or 2010. We had shared a room with our mutual friend. We ended up catching up, chatting. We ran into Ray and everyone was very chatty.


At the aid station, Megan and Ray were taking a little longer, so I didn't bother waiting. They'd catch up. Jackie and I began running together, and were having such a grand old time that we didn't notice something was wrong until the lead guys passed us. "Are you guys lapping us?" I moaned. No, they weren't. Hey! How were we back into the main aid station. I know time flies when running, but we must've run 2-3 miles, I knew, and the course was supposed to be 5. We tried to figure out where we went wrong and couldn't.


So Jackie and I fueled up and went out to re-do that last loop - and made it right the next time. Whew!


We ran another 2 loops, with less confusion. We were a lot more careful, as we had previously been lost, and as the race went on, the flour wore off and it was difficult to find your way.

But we had a blast. I got a nice easy training run in, didn't feel anything negative (other than tired at the end), hung out with superawesome Jackie, ate my homemade Ghiradelli chocolate chip walnut cookies during and after running, rode with Ray and Erin, hung out with lots of my other rad ultra friends...overall, a very good day. 

Run Dance Run (Repeat!)

Compared to most of this country, I'm in stellar shape. For me, I'm in terrible shape.

Saturday I headed out to meet Erin, Barbara and Phil at the George Washington Bridge Bus terminal - yes, I ran there. When I got there, I doubted I could run over the bridge, much less complete a 4-5 hour workout, full of stair repeats.

I showed myself I could.

We were excited and nervous and all feeling out of shape. This run only pushed my desire to get into MUCH better shape. We did repeats down from the cliffs we run at on the top of the Pallisades down to the banks of the Hudson. And then Phil and Barbara left us and Erin and I continued, talking, struggling, feeling okay. I ate a lot, feeling hungry. Finally, we finished.

When I ran into my apartment, I scared Wayne with how fast I was in a chair, eating. Luckily, he understood, and scrambled me some eggs to go with my cauliflower curry and bread deliciousness.

I went out at night, to the Silent Mobile Disco. Basically, everyone wears headphones which you can tune to two different stations and the sound is excellent and we go around in the subways and end up at a bar and then back in more subway time...so fun! It was one of the most fun I've had in eons, dancing, laughing...

The hard part was getting up after going to bed at 330am. Wayne made a smoothie, and we slowly, very slowly, got out of the house. Bagels on the way, and we munched as we drove up to beloved Bear Mountain.

Unfortunately, my legs were PISSED. They were slow - tired from the 7 hour 15 minute run from the day before, and tired from dancing essentially all night in my pink cowgirl boots. I felt dead - I could barely walk, much less run. Plus, I was famished. I was tripping and crying and it was awful. We slogged on a run/hike for 3 hours 11 minutes, and gratefully collapsed into the car, where we had left delicious post-run treats.

We went to Stew Leonard's, which we always passed heading back to the city. We had heard it was good. It's not. It was awful, expensive, Americana full of kids screaming, the parents ignoring them, piling six boxes of cookies into their cart (I am NOT exaggerating.). We got out of there quick, headed home, and promptly passed out on our bed. Then we woke up, got French food, and stayed up late enough for it to be our one year anniversary!

One Year

What have I done in one year?

In one year, I have run three 100 milers, some 50 milers and 50ks.

I've gone to Florida, to Vermont, to Lake Tahoe, to Reno twice, to Black Rock City (my home!), to Big Sur, to San Francisco, to San Quentin, to New Orleans, to Florida again, to Connecticut, to Philly, to Peru, to a lot of other places.

But really, what I did do?

I fell in love, hard. In the hallway of my teammate's studio, after making a phone call, you came out and somehow we ended up kissing, feeling that zing, realizing wow, this was something special.

Our second date lasted an entire weekend, and when Monday morning came, we realized we didn't want it to end. So we didn't let it. And we've been on that second date since then.

Happy Anniversary, babe. One year and many more...

Getting Back Into It

Because I can only run slow and short so long.

Got a haircut.

Back to cooking: soups, stews, breads, intricate salads.

Got the Burning Man tickets, luckily. Will be planning more than ever this year, but promise myself I won't let myself get stressed out about it. (Or run a 100 miler a few days after Burning Man!)

But I'm getting back into it.

I've been to the gym four times this week already.

I've run every day, and today I'm running twice.

I'm psyched about Dances with Dirt Green Swamp 50 Miler and Bear Mountain 50 Miler and Traprock 50k and Febapple 50k and whatever else I decide to do.

Tomorrow I'm running to Washington Heights and then doing miserable hill repeats with friends. Then Bear Mountain on Sunday.

I'm headed to Europe for work two weeks from today.

And a million other things but I know it's going to get better.

Slump

I'm officially in a running slump.


I changed my mind and decided to NOT sign up for the Santa Barbara 100 Miler - it's partially because I'm running around so much lately (Peru in January-February; North Carolina in February; Europe in early March; Florida in late March; plus a lot of other plans on the horizon, including Vermont, Burning Man, and whatever else...) but really, because honestly, I don't feel like running 100 miles. I'd rather run 50. I haven't 100% ruled out flying out for the 50 miler, but maybe I should be good with my money and just find a local race. Or one where I can visit Gram in Florida at the same time.


But a combination of a bunch of things - depression, staying at high altitude for a while, exhaustion, lack of time - has led my running to turn to pure crap. I'm not even sure if I could keep up with an NBR run. Wayne and Nelson have been patient, though I'm pretty sure I deserved to be tossed off that pier in Williamsburg the other day.


It's also the cold. I hate NYC in the winter. I wish we had tunnels and I love when I work at home and drink endless cups of tea and snuggle with my kitty. I find it harder to run fast and get that feeling of being alive when it is 20 degrees and windy out and I'm running next to the East River, or worse, above it.


When I came home this morning, post slow-55 minute run and lifting weights at the gym, when I complained, Wayne suggested I need some sprints. Sprints?! Can't I have cupcakes instead?! I feel like if I did sprints they would come out at an 8:30 pace and I would be sore after. Or something. I just don't know what to do.


But I'm going to keep running. I think I'll pick up the training - do some more cross-training at the gym, if it gets above brutal temps, I'll ride to work (but that probably won't be an option until April....), and yes, Wayne, I'll do some evil sprints. 


But yes, I'm in a slump, and I'm going to focus on getting out of it now...because I want running to be my delightful time instead of a miserable time.

The Things You Remember

How someone laughed. The twinkle in their eye. How they tickled you when you were small. The space they took up.


And what you don't realize...

The space they leave behind seems even vaster than you ever thought possible.

Lima the Lovely...(Lima, Part IV)

Who knew we'd love Lima so much? My Spanish teacher said it was boring, Lonely Planet didn't make it sound exciting, others yawned through it...but four times wasn't enough Lima for me!

My fourth time was really fun, though I received some extremely sad news halfway through it. My uncle died. He had been diagnosed with cancer on 8th of December, so much of my time I felt quite sad. Otherwise, the trip was good.

We arrived late, of course, because Taca sucks, and I was still weak with food poisoning. But we were happy. We unpacked a little, walked around, found someplace terrible to eat. Let's just say that even if you did pay 20 soles for your food, if it's a taco served in a plastic bag, it's not good. Oh my....and the pisco sours tasted like margaritas!

We headed out to see el Circuito del Magico Agua which sounds really stupid but it's really awesome (and the Dutch and German girls we met in Lake Titicaca were SO right!). It's a giant park of all these different fountains with lights and music...SO fun! We had a blast...

The next morning we got up, went for a run along the cliffs above the beach. Of course our flight was late but luckily we checked online so we spent the day doing stuff, in between checking online. We ate an amazing lunch, walked to the beach, saw a rad street parade in Plaza del Armas, went to Museo de la Nacion, ate at a fancy cafe with a spectacular-looking sundae.

It's funny - we never expected to fall in love with Lima so much, but we did. We fell so hard we changed our flight, and our hearts are sad to leave. Oh Lima, Nelson was so right...

Machu Picchu!

After the hassle to get to the place, I must admit, it was worth it.

                Wayne and I woke up at 4am, had a quick brekkie at our hostel, and began the 1.25-1.5 hour (depending on your ability…obviously, we were the faster ones!) trek up to Machu Picchu. By hiking up, you save $9USD (which is a complete rip-off considering it’s probably a 15 minute drive!) and you get to get there early to ensure you are at the start of the line when entering. You don’t want all your photos to have a million people in them, so this is a great option to avoid that.

                The hike was harder than we thought, all uphill, all stairs, but it felt great to hike so early in the morning. We had timed it well so we only had a few minutes at the gate (strip away layers of clothing, apply sunblock, drink water) before the gate opened. Show your passports, your tickets, and everyone rushes to take the classic photos – which of course, we quickly did. We had about an hour before we hiked Waynapicchu, so we walked around, took photos, saw some interesting animals and bugs, and then headed over to the line at Waynapicchu.

                The hike was hard – pretty much all uphill, with tiny little Inca stone steps. You had to climb through these little caves, and then at the final point, pull yourself up on a rock, which I did not like. The view would have been amazing were it not cloudy, so we decided to rest and wait for the clouds to pass. We drank, ate some of our snacks that we weren’t supposed to bring in, and talked. And then the clouds passed and we got our money shots.

It was beautiful. It was good to go – to see the place you’ve seen in movies, everywhere. It was beautiful, it was well-preserved, and of course, it was interesting. They didn’t use mortar. Stones perfectly fit together. It was just gorgeous.           

Going down was a different story. I was miserable. I’m not afraid of heights, I’m afraid of things I can fall through. Why I ever decided to climb that epic pyramid at Tikal is beyond me, and that was way scarier, but still, going down here was frightening. There was one point where there were little tiny steps that went down down down a really long steep while – with a sheer cliff so if you tripped, you’d fall several thousand feet. That freaked me out. Between Wayne and the Spanish guy who sat across from us on the train, I made it down, pouring sweat. Wayne’s knees were hurting on the downs, so yes, I would recommend you be absolutely fit to do this, as we are a point of two fit individuals who didn’t even have the easiest time.  

                By this point, we spent our final hours walking around, taking photos, climbing steep stone steps, walking out to the bridge (Beautiful, but now closed due to a tourist falling to their death some years back.). Finally, we were beat.

                But not beat enough to hop on the bus. Wayne and I hiked down, which was a lot faster than going up, but still not super easy. We entered town, chilled at our hostel, ate the yogurt that gave me food poisoning, and were glad.

                We had hiked from 4:40a.m. until 1:30 p.m. We were tired, but we felt glad with our accomplishments.

To & Fro Machu Picchu!

                Of course I wanted to go to Machu Picchu. This was the reason I was in Peru: I couldn’t decide between going to Peru and Chile, and my boyfriend picked Peru because he wanted to go to Machu Picchu. So of course I would go. It’s the #1 tourist destination in Peru.

                But it’s not easy to go. In fact, I describe the prep to Wayne as “a dark cloud hanging over our trip.”

                We headed to the train station to get tickets – only to learn that was the locals’ only train. We got advice and picked up our tickets from the Ministry of Culture – we got the full deal including the hike to Waynapicchu at 7am (which is the time you want – it gets sunnier and hotter and it’s a pretty difficult hike.

                Then we went to Peru Rail (as Jon pointed out to us, it’s in Plaza de las Armas in between McDonald’s (ugh) and KFC (ugh)), and the prices were absurd. $218USD for two round-trip tickets. We went to Inka Rail, where the tickets were just $160USD for two round-trip tickets. So we bought them – make sure you buy them in advance as we got the last two tickets on our train (and they weren’t next to each other, although the conductor arranged is so that we could sit together). And buy your tickets in advance as much as you can for Machu Picchu as well – we were fine because we were in the low season, but during the dry season (especially June, July, August), you really need to buy them in advance because there is a limited number of tickets per day. You can also buy them online and print out the tickets.

                So it was a hassle and yes, expensive. (When you figure that I can eat a big meal for $2 or $3 USD, you understand why those costs are so ridiculous for Peru.)

                The trains weren’t running direct from Cusco to Machu Picchu either – you could buy the costly Peru Rail bus to the train in Ollyantaytambo, but instead, you can take a combi (5 soles) or a collectivo (10 soles). We hopped in a cab, asking it to take us to the combis and collectivos. The driver bargained with us, and he ended up driving us all to way to Ollanta, including a stop in Salinas so we could see the salt pans (very cool).

                We arrived at the main square of Ollanta and it was lightly drizzling. We had a small meal with juice, and then we walked to the local Inca ruins which were incredibly beautiful. This was the site of a Inca-Spanish battle, with the Inca winning – they let their water stores loose and flooded the fields and the Spaniard’s horses couldn’t charge. Wooohooo!

                After we walked around the ruins, we still had time to kill, so we got another small meal at the amazing Hearts Café – probably the best meal we had in all of Peru. And then we walked down to the train station and boarded the scenic ride to Machu Picchu. (Actually, the town of Aguas Calientes, which is where you need to stay if you want to get to Machu Picchu when the gates open.)

               

                On the way back, it was a little different. We were both extremely exhausted from having woken up at 4am, hiked from 4:40a.m. until 1:30 p.m., and I was on the starts of food poisoning. Yes, food poisoning. How miserable.

                We arrive and after a bit of seat shuffling, were sitting across from each other and next to these horrible middle-aged Canadian couple. The guy took up half my seat, which made my ill ride even more miserable, and they said things like, “Now, not to stereotypes, but some groups of certain kinds of people…” I wanted them to shut up as I felt wretched.

                After the train ride ended, we scrambled off nearly last and ended up in a miserable collectivo ride back to Cusco. As I was really sick, I tried to pass out and focused my waking moments on not throwing up all over myself and Wayne. Lucky for us, our driver couldn’t find anyone else so we had the whole back seat to ourselves.

                When we finally arrived in Cusco, I didn’t care that a place like Machu Picchu existed. I spent the rest of the evening getting sick and sleeping the miserable sleep of the sick. It was horrendous. Poor Wayne took care of me, Googling “salmonella poisoning” in between, as we wondered about those delicious pisco sours (which contain raw egg).

Cusco, Part II

After a nice long interesting bus ride, Wayne and I rolled into Cusco into the hands of a complete jerk of a cab driver. He dropped us off a few blocks away, got pissed b/c I wouldn't pay double the price (that is normal). Ugh.

We got to our place, Hostal Suecia 2, which was a complete nightmare. The woman was completely cold and rude, wouldn't even look me in the eye, and responded to my questions of where was there wifi and where could I buy Machu Picchu tickets with, "I don't know." You don't know?! The room was also a dump, the toilet didn't work, the shower was a nightmare and there was such bad energy there. We decided to take a walk, find dinner, maybe find a new place.

And we did. San Blas Hostal was just 20 soles per night more (2.7 soles=1 USD) and a million times nicer - with a really cute room, wifi, nice location, friendly staff - yes. Yes!

So we went back to our other place, grabbed our bags and nicely, she didn't charge us. We headed back to our new place, unpacked a little, and then grabbed dinner (which of course involved a pisco sour!).

We woke up early, deciding to get the Machu Picchu tickets and the train tickets and then do everything else. We routed our morning run to the train station - which was geared towards locals, with a LONG line and a lot less trains. The schedule did not work for us, and it was confusing so we ran back. At our hostal, the guy told us where to get the entrance tickets and the regular tickets. After a wait in line at the Ministry of Culture, we got two tickets to Machu Picchu, plus the Wayna Picchu tickets. Peru Rail had very expensive tickets ($218 - in USD! - for the both of us) but we got cheaper tickets with Inka Rail ($160 USD).

Then we got the very expensive touristico boleto and totally used it. We went to the Museo Historico Regional (for the Incan art and post-Incan art), the Museum of Contemporary Art, a weaving museum (not included), Qorikancha Museum, and we hiked to nearby Sacsaywaman. Pretty full but good day, which we ended with two pisco sours and Dutch fries at a small Dutch restaurant. Yum. And then pizza which we didn't call pizza but "school cafeteria pizza." Yeah, we're New Yorkers. The next day, we got up early and headed to Ollataytambo for Machu Picchu!

Inka Express!

There are buses leaving every hour on the hour from Puno to Cuzco. We could have done that. But instead, we took the Inka Express.

                The Inka Express turned the 6 hour bus ride into 10 hours. Sounds miserable – right? But not really. You stop at four different neat sites along the way, have a guide, plus a (horrible) buffet lunch is included. The buses have big windows, you get coca tea and water and soda, and it’s a lot more peaceful (but also a lot more expensive) than the regular bus.

                Wayne and I decided it was worth it.

                The owner of the Duque Inn hooked us up – we got seats 1 & 2, which are the best on the bus. We had views through the front window and through the side windows. It really is a picturesque ride, which is the reason that Wayne was able to persuade me into not taking a night bus after our nights on Lake Titicaca.

                The first stop was Pucara, where we stopped at an archeological museum and saw some interesting findings and learned about the people that lived in Pucara before the Incas came and ruled it, like they did everything else. Then we stopped at La Raya, which is 4,318 meters high. Ouch. We took a few photos, saw lots of vendors. Then lunch, which had zero options for vegetarians (Okay, I lie. I ate tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce with a potato squash stew. I was starving as soon as we left.) Then, we headed over to Raqchi, where we saw the ruins of an ancient Inca settlement. It was very special as there was almost no one there, so we got some great photos and our guide told us some interesting stories about the area. Finally, we visited San Pedro Church in Andauyalillas, “the Sistine Chapel of the Americas.” It was the most incredible church I’ve visited outside of Europe (probably). It was a beautiful church with amazing murals and lots of ornate decorations painted with gold leaf – 24k. Nice.

                Next, another 45 minutes on the bus and then in Cusco.

                Comfy seats, chill environment, good sites, it was definitely a good decision to opt for the Inka Express over the normal bus to Cusco.