If you sat down with a piece of paper and tried to come up with all the things that would torture my faithful traveling companion, it might look something like this:

– no heat
– plenty of stairs
– uncomfortable bed
– carbohydrate-laden meals
– sketchy bathroom
– lots of noise at night to keep you awake

We’re batting a thousand on all of these except the last one, but fortunately, a storm rolls through about 4am bringing thunder and the always appreciated pounding rain on our tin roof. By breakfast (6:45am), Angela is channeling her inner truck driver, which I find very entertaining (although I don’t think my grinning is helping very much).

After a quick meal (no potatoes, thankfully), we say goodbye to our hosts and head down to our boat.

Our next stop is Taquile Island, about a hour away. This should be a piece of cake, but the storm has roughed up the water quite a bit, and our captain seems set on catching as many waves broadside as he can. Sam is getting a little green by the halfway point, and while he keeps pretty quiet about it, seems very happy to get his feet back on firm ground.

We have a few hours to kill before the boat leaves again (it is possible to stay a second night on this island, but I don’t have many takers for that), so we spend that with a bit of hiking and a tasty lunch (thanks to all our time at sea on the Tawny Port, the Roberts clan is one one of the few in our group even remotely interested in food). While we eat, our guide talks about the local culture and all the various rules and customs around who can wear what, how they wear it, who does what job, and so on. They’ve even devised a method of herbal birth control, as with limited resources, managing population is critical to their existence.

By the time we meet back up with the boat, the waves have calmed down, making for a much more manageable 3 hours back to Puno. Arriving around 4pm, there isn’t a whole lot for us to do besides check back into the hotel, and seek out some dinner. There is some kind of celebration in full swing, which is the perfect opportunity to sample a few street carts. I know from the guide book that the meat on a stick here is beef heart, but I keep that on the down low until we’ve all eaten it.

We also discover the polleria, where for three bucks, you get a quarter chicken (which is delicious), and a huge plate of fries. It’s a pretty common meal here, and after partaking ourselves, we can see why.

That’s pretty much it for our final night in Puno. We have some free time tomorrow, but fly back to Lima in the evening, where I’m pretty sure all these extra blood cells will allow me to leap tall buildings in a single bound (or at least walk up a flight of stairs without feeling like my heart is going to explode).

After dodging a potentially serious incident (upon finding no hot water for a shower last night, my better half threatened grave bodily harm if there was none in the morning), we meet our driver just before 8am to make our way to the harbor. Fairly quickly, we are shepherded onto a boat (that, not surprisingly, doesn’t really look like the one we were shown in the brochure) with about a dozen other adventurous souls and a bilingual guide.

Our first stop is Uros, which is a group of man made, floating islands, about 30 minutes from Puno. This part of the lake is full of reeds, so getting there means navigating through a series of channels, sort of like the Everglades. Eventually, we come into an open area surrounded by thatch buildings, with people wandering all over the place. It could be any other city on the waterfront, with the exception that there is no actual ground here, but layers of reeds stacked on top of each other to create platforms upon which everything else is constructed. According to our guide 4,500 people live in Uros, which also includes two schools, a hospital, and several other commercial buildings like restaurants.

A short presentation demonstrates how the islands are constructed, and talks about the importance of the reeds (called tortora) to these people. In addition to construction material, they also provide medicine, a kind of flour for making breads, the base for drinks (both alcoholic and non-alcoholic), and serve as a fruit-like snack that we get to try.

We also get a tour of one of the “houses” (it has a TV powered by a solar panel so Sammy is all good), and a ride to another island in a reed boat before meeting back up with our guide for the next leg of our trip. It is possible to stay the night in Uros, and while our tour doesn’t provide that option, it is a unique enough place that on a future trip I would probably give it a try (although one of my travel companions may not be on board with that).

Our destination for the night is an actual island called Amantani, about 40 kilometers (and 4 glorious hours) further into Lake Titicaca. After leaving the reeds, the size of the lake becomes much more apparent, feeling a lot more like being on the ocean. Our guide rattles off some statistics along the way (roughly 8900 square kilometers in size, over 250 meters deep, and with waves up to 3 meters in height), and with a few naps mixed in, we pull in to the dock around 2pm. There, we are assigned to our host family, who hikes us up our accommodation for the night.

Given the decor, I get the distinct impression that we are taking over the kids’ room, and I get assigned the puppy bed (until Goldilocks decides her bed is too soft and moves everybody else around).

There is no English spoken here, so in very bad Spanish, we fumble through introductions (mom, dad, three kids, and grandma), and sit down in the dirt-floored dining room for some lunch (potatoes, rice, and some squeaky cheese that I end up eating multiple portions of to be polite). Sam then heads out with the kids to play some ball, while we get ready for a hike to the high point of the island.

Lake Titicaca is marginally higher than Cusco, and even though we have been at this elevation for about a week now, climbing still quickly wears you out (yes, I know it’s probably not really the altitude, but it makes for a great excuse so I’m taking it). Even more humbling is the barefoot lady, who must be at least 60, blowing right by me with a big bundle of stuff on her back, that she will have neatly spread out and available for sale by the time we get to the top.

As we make our way back down, the wind starts to pick up, and along with the setting sun makes for some very cold travelers. Mom is not happy, and back at the house, for the next 30 minutes one can hear sporadic muttering coming from a wool-encased lump (note the shoes pointing forward in the pic below). The words are hard to make out, but I pick up a few fragments, like “this is ridiculous”, “stupid homestay”, and “I can’t just freeze all night.”

We are saved by some hot soup and another plate of rice and potatoes, and rally to prepare for the fiesta at the local community center. All gussied up in our traditional party attire, we head out for a few hours of dancing, or as an observer might describe it, running in around in a big circle holding hands. Sam loves it, even though each song seems to go on forever and the heavy wool poncho has him breaking out in a sweat. It is a fun finish to a very eventful day, and even though there is no chocolate on the pillow when we get back to the room, it looks like we’ll make it.

Pretty uneventful day today. With a few hours to kill before our flight to Puno, we wandered around town a bit, stopping long enough at the tourist market for Sammy to pick up the present for Penny he has been talking about for days (I can’t post a picture in case Penny is reading this blog).

The flight is a short one, and we seem to have hardly reached cruising altitude before we are headed back down (I’m not sure what the rules are on using electronic devices when you never get below 10,000 feet, maybe you get to use them all the time). The airport is in a town called Juliaca, about 45 minutes from Puno, so by the time we finish the cab ride and check in, we barely have time to grab a quick dinner and find a travel agent to book our next tour. After some prodding, Sam and I convince Mom to a 2 day/1 night home stay on one of the islands in Lake Titicaca. She may have just heard the “H” in home stay and assumed I said Hyatt, but she’s committed now, so hopefully it will work out.

Our day begins at 4:45am. I figure if we have come all the way to Peru to see Machu Picchu, we may as well go the extra distance and get up early to be in the first group there. The first bus rolls out at 5:30, so I leave Sam and Mom to get breakfast while I squat a place in the line, which by 5:05 is already nearly a block long. Out spot gets us in the back row of bus number two, but after a 20 minute ride up a sometimes harrowing, switchback road (full props to the people walking up the stone steps from town), we are still in pretty good position before the gates open at 6:00am.

So, was it all worth it (not just the early morning, but coming all the way to Peru for this)? Absolutely! Machu Picchu is spectacular, and easily amongst the most amazing things that we have seen anywhere. On a perfect day, as the clouds move up from the valley past the ruins, it is almost magical. The pictures won’t do it justice, but short of being there, it’s the next best thing.

After a full day on the mountain, including a 1 hour hike along the Inca Trail to the Sun Gate, we still need to make our way back to Cusco, so from Aguas Calientes, it is the train back to Ollantaytambo, and then a couple hours in a cab to our hotel. Even so, our day isn’t over as traffic in the center of town is at a standstill because of Halloween. Rather than wait it out, we bail on the cab and head off on foot the last few blocks. Walking through the main plaza, it is just packed with families out trick or treating (although here they simply say “Halloween. Halloween”, and hold out a tiny plastic pumpkin). It is irresistible, so we buy a couple bags of candy from a street vendor and start handing it out. Big mistake. I am soon mobbed by pumpkin-waving Peruvians, forced up against a wall as they all push to get their share of the candy they see in my hand. Eventually I manage to stuff the candy bag in my pocket and hold my empty hands up to the crowd to show them I am all out, and as quickly as they appeared, the rag tag group of Spidermen, princesses, Smurfs, and fairies melt back into the crowd.

Somewhat smarter for the experience, we keep the candy we have left carefully hidden, pulling a piece or two out at a time and dropping it directly into individual buckets. As we hand out the last two pieces, we find ourselves right back in front of our hotel, and with that, wrap up a completely unforgettable day. I’m not sure what we’ll do to top this one, but tomorrow we head off for Lake Titicaca, so we’ll keep trying.

While the Incas certainly didn’t make getting to Machu Picchu easy by putting it on a mountaintop, despite 500 years to work on it, modern Peruvians haven’t really improved on the process. Our journey from Cusco starts with a 2 hour bus ride to Ollantaytambo. We were here a few days ago on our tour of the Sacred Valley, but didn’t have much time to spend in the town itself, so today we arrive early with plans to check it out while waiting for the train to Aguas Calientes. Aguas Calientes is the town closest to Machu Picchu, and is accessible only by train or foot (via the Inca Trail). Knowing this, PeruRail has courteously priced the 90 minute trip at about $60 per person, each way (by comparison, the 2 hour trip from Ollantaytambo to Poroy (the nearest station to Cusco) can be added on for an additional $8).

There really isn’t much to do in Ollantaytambo, but settling in at a table outside a small cafe is a nice change of pace, and we are able to sit back and enjoy more of the local culture.

As the day wears on, we wander over to a place off the main road for a quick meal. We’ve come to learn that local way to eat here is order the “menu” at lunch time and the “cena” for dinner. In both cases, you get a soup, then a plate of grilled chicken, rice, and french fries. For a couple of bucks it is quick, filling, and you pretty much always know what to expect.

From there we grab a few hike-friendly items (trail mix, chocolate, and some Peruvian energy bars that look like rectangular blocks of bird seed) and head down to the train station.

The trip to Aguas Calientes takes about 90 minutes, and passes through some great country. Our train is the higher end “Vistadome” (which is a much more elegant way of saying “we cut a few holes in the roof and made them windows so we can charge you silly tourists 30% more”), and provides some opportunities to get a few photos of the surrounding mountains.

There is not a whole lot to say about Aguas Calientes other than it is a place to stay for the night. A hodge podge collection of no name hotels, restaurants, and souvenir shops, it feels like all of International Boulevard in Orlando, packed down into just 5 blocks. That said, it is a fantastic evening, and we are keeping our fingers crossed that the weather holds for tomorrow.

Down to our last day in Cusco, we have only a few things left on our list. First off is finalizing our travel to Machu Picchu. The easy path is to book a tour from the US, which would include all of the tickets, transportation and accommodation required, but for three people that gets pretty spendy pretty quickly, so we are doing things on our own, backpacker style. With that out of the way, we head out to see a couple of nearby museums.

Two things become apparent pretty quickly. The first is that Sam’s attention span and museums don’t mix well (although he gets to dress up Inca style at the second one). The second is that I know very little about South American history. Unfortunately, these are a little at odds, since the only solution to the former is to quickly move through the exhibits, focusing on cool boy things like weapons. Meanwhile, getting even a basic understanding of what has transpired in this part of the world over the last 5,000 years means methodically taking in on that is on display.

I have to admit, the prior to arriving in Cusco, I would have described Incas more or less like the Egyptians of South America, with a long, productive rule culminating in the creation of massive works like Machu Picchu and the 22,000 miles of paved “roads” that connected all parts of their empire. What I have come to learn, is that while there is history going back many thousands of years, the Incas really only comprise a part of that, rising to power in the 1400s and 1500s. Prior to that the area was a patchwork of different cultures that rose and fell such as the Mohica, Tiahuanaco, Nazca, and Wari. It’s fascinating to learn of such history, but unfortunate that we will have time to only scratch the surface.

The rest of our day is consumed wandering through different parts of town, stopping here and there to do some shopping. Sammy scores a pair of llama shoes and Mom settles on a tapestry (or wall carpet as I have taken to calling it) that will surely find its way into my backpack for the next two weeks. Sam also comes to the realization that American food really is only good in America (no more hamburguesas).

Tomorrow begins our journey to Machu Picchu, which after all the build up, travel arrangements, and tickets/fees hopefully lives up to expectations. We have enjoyed Cusco, but are excited to see the one thing that, more than any other, brought us to Peru.

Today is the start of a stretch of early mornings, so there is just a hint of grumpiness as we head to the main square for our 9:00 am tour of the Sacred Valley. I don’t know a whole lot about the place, but from what I’ve been told, there are some interesting archeological sites and small towns that still have some local charm (i.e. less tourists).

Crossing over the ridge above Cusco and starting our descent into the valley, our first stop is a small roadside market. There isn’t a whole lot to see, but Sam manages to spot another llama and immediately heads over.

We hit another market next in the town of Pisac, known for the quality of its silver. Here Angela walks away heartbroken, defeated by a ring just one size too small. Sammy on the other hand walks away thrilled with his new traveling companion, whom he has named Terrence.

Shopping finally out of the way, we head into the hills above Pisac to the first set of ruins. These are the first examples of the extensive terraces the Incas used that we have seen, and they make for a very impressive sight.

Our guide spends the next 30 minutes or so talking about the history of the buildings, Inca religion, and the tombs built into the walls of the adjacent hills where most of the mummies on display in Peru were discovered (all the holes you can see in the picture). He then turns us loose to explore on our own.

After a quick lunch in Urubamba, we continue on to Ollantaytambo, which has another set of ruins. These are similar to Pisac, but we get to walk straight up all the terraces here, so they seem more interesting (to me at least). Connecting two sections, there is also a great example of an Incan trail (very narrow, very high, and with very little between you and a quick trip to the bottom) that is impossible to resist.

Quite a few people end the tour in Ollantaytambo as the train to Machu Picchu departs from there, so with only a handful of us left, we head back toward Cusco, stopping at the small town of Chincerro on the way. According to the guide, this is where the Inca bloodline remains the strongest, and the old traditions adhered to the closest (or they have a great marketing department). We watch a demo of how they clean and dye alpaca wool for making blankets and such, and then pile back on the bus for the final hour back to Cusco.

A fun (long) day, and Sammy is very anxious to FaceTime his brothers and show off Terrence.

Over our many trips, I have noticed a strikingly high correlation between the time the hotel closes the restaurant for breakfast and when certain members of Roberts family wake up in the morning. Not to say there is any specific link (coincidence is always a possibility, however remote), but something worth further study, maybe as a research project for some enterprising statistics major.

Anyway, after emerging into the sunshine just shy of noon, we set of in search of a tour of the sights around Cusco (conveniently, the only one that hasn’t started hours ago). I figured a “city tour” would take us places like the major churches, plazas, and other notable buildings, but we’re in for a treat as the focus is all on what was here before the Spanish arrived. While Machu Picchu gets all of the PR, we soon find that there are a host of equally important stops both in and around the Cusco.

Right in the heart of the city is a former complex called Qurikancha. It was partially destroyed and rebuilt as a church, but in its time housed the most important temples in the Incan Empire. Then, the walls of many of the buildings would have been covered in silver and gold, but what remains is still very impressive. It is one thing to read about how skilled Incan craftsmen were with stone, but to see firsthand the detail takes it to a whole other level. During a period without mortar or metal tools, the blocks in these buildings fit so tightly together (hundreds of years later in a seismically active area) a playing card wouldn’t fit between them.

Above the city are a series of ruins, each with a different purpose. Tambomachay was a bath complex, with some debate as to whether it was for high ranking citizens of Cusco coming up for a spa day, or visitors to Cusco getting clean before entering what was the holiest city of the time. At 3,765 meters it is the highest place we will visit (despite its impressive perch, Machu Picchu is over 4,000 feet lower), and is the site of Sammy’s first llama hug.

Next up are Puka Pukara (a military outpost/customs depot) and Q’enqo (a religious site where mummification of high ranking officials was carried out). Of course we have many pictures of these as well, but I can’t post everything or I’ll be here all night.

The last site is Sacsayhuaman, considered to be one of the most impressive sites built by the Incas. Here, blocks weighing as much as 300 tonnes are fitted together with mind-boggling precision. They are just rocks, but it feels like I could spend all day just staring at them, imagining the work it took to put them together, and the people that have come and gone since.

Finished with our tour for the day, we stop in for a quick bite to eat. Sam is thrilled to find the home of the Big Max.

Tomorrow we are off on another tour, this time to the Sacred Valley.

Opening on a happy note, Sammy looks much better this morning. Mom and Dad not so much, as this wasn’t the most relaxing night. Doctor’s orders are to stay low key for another day, but I’m pretty sure that he didn’t mean me, so while the rest of crew takes it easy at the hotel, I decide to explore more of the city.

Wandering aimlessly, I manage to get some shots of a few of the great old buildings (of which there are far too many to count).

Beyond those, is a neighborhood called San Blas, where our guide book says the better art galleries are clustered. Curious what good Peruvian art looks like, I head off in that direction. I come up empty on anything that would pass for a gallery, but one of the many people trying to sell me “art from their school” shadows me for quite a long ways, pointing out interesting nuggets from time to time. One of these is apparently the most famous stone blocks in all of Cusco, unique because of the 12 corners that were carved into it to make it perfectly fit it’s spot in the wall.

Feeling indestructible, I get the crazy notion in my head to try and find a good place for some bird’s eye photos. Unfortunately, while it may be possible to delude myself that I’m not in horrible shape at sea level, 12,000 feet has an amazing way of exposing the truth. I feel like a 400 pound, 4 pack a day smoker climbing just a few flights of stairs to a platform that overlooks the city. The view is worthwhile, but any notion of continuing even higher is quickly discarded.

Returning to the hotel, I find both Sam and Angela back to normal. We spend a bit of time making reservations for our trip to Machu Picchu in a few days, and then head back out to find some dinner. It takes longer than planned, as one of us can’t stop looking at shoes/scarves/tapestries, but we eventually settle on a place, just as it begins to pour.

The other famous food in Peru (besides ceviche) is cuy. I’m not quite as stoked to try this one, but everyone agrees to give it a go if I order it, and 15 minutes later this handsome devil shows up.

Sammy goes with the drumstick…

At the end of the day, I’m not really sure what the attraction is. The fact that we are eating a rodent aside, it doesn’t taste particularly bad (although not particularly good either), but it has very little meat on it, so is like trying to make a meal out of an unladen swallow (African or European, doesn’t matter).

It is still pouring when we finish up dinner, so breaking out the plastic ponchos, we take the shortest path back to the hotel. No plans yet for tomorrow, but with everyone looking healthy again, it’s time to get into full tourist mode.

We start out early today (at least by our standards), and by the time I normally get my posse out of the hotel, we’ve already made our way to the airport, boarded a flight, flown an hour, and are touching down in Cusco. It’s a much different feel than Lima, with things seeming to move much more slowly (although that could just be lack of oxygen to my brain). Incan influence is far more prevalent here, with narrow stone streets and meticulously carved walls, many of which have simply been incorporated into newer construction.

After checking into the hotel, we step out to get a lay of the land, and find some lunch. Since we don’t have anything in particular to do, our outing is quickly hijacked and turned into a shopping extravaganza. Without mentioning any names, suffice to say the majority of our group is beyond bored from looking at scarves and sweaters.

The combination of early morning and high altitude has us dragging a bit, so after a few hours we head back to our room for nap. While this would often be the end of the story, today the fun is only beginning.

While catching up on a few emails, Sammy wanders by on his way to bathroom looking a little green. This is soon followed by him screaming in pain, and when we come around the corner, a skin tone normally reserved for dead people. He’s completely inconsolable, and when he says he can’t see, Mom comes unglued.

An ice pack on the neck seems to bring him back around a bit, but by then a doctor is already on his way and quickly diagnoses altitude sickness. The treatment (aside from the medications that he started the day before) is an evening with an oxygen tank, which I think Sammy finds kind of cool. It also means we’ll be taking it easy for the next day or two, so thankfully, our tickets to Machu Picchu are not for another 5 days, which should be plenty of time to acclimate.

Keeping our fingers crossed that all is back to normal in the morning.