It might be the thin Andean air (11,500 ft above sea level), the thin cobblestoned streets, the massive "Andean Boroque" cathedral in the center of town, or the small women wearing fedoras and lugging parcels twice their size around town, but Cusco is incredible. I arrived this morning from Lima and have had a heck of a day since then.

As my cab from the airport pulled into the suburb of Wuanchac, 2 km south of Cusco, I had a feeling I was going to be the only gringo around in this small, somewhat dodgy but not too dodgy little city. It wreaked of adventure, especially when we couldn't find the hostel I hab booked. After walking around Wuanchac in the rain and under the gaze of many curious locals. I found a sign for my hostel posted to a big iron gate next to a back alley. After wringing every door bell and site and trying to call reception from a payphone, I realized Casa Familiar Ochoa wasn't going to be my accomodation du jour. So with my hug ass back pack I hopped into a local cafe (El Palacio de Sandwiches Calliente) and had a bite to eat (a no thrilla, though very thrilling, sandwich with some unidentifiable slabs of meat and spicy pickled carrots, washed down with a hot cup of Coca de Mate tea) and began to plot out plan B.

¡BEST MOMENT OF MY DAY!: As I was leaving the cafe, the kid who worked there asked if I was Spanish or Argentine! I was one happy camper from then on.

Plan B: Walk into Cusco center and try to find a hostel recommended to me by my Aussie acquiantences in Lima: Hostel Samay Wasi. So after a pleasant walk through Waunchac, I came to Inglesia de Santo Domingo, one of a few big cathedrals in town. It's pretty spectacular with all the trappings, ornate details, and vastness you would hope for in a Catholic edifice. As I was turning a corner masked men with bells on their feet and whips in their hands danced by me, followed by a group of women and men in brightly colored traditional garp, and a third group of people carrying a pretty big box (an alter perhaps) depicting a scene from Christ's life (atleast, I thinl0 it was Chirst). Naturally, I decided to follow along with my huge ass back pack and camara in hand.

What followed was a procession to a small square where many Cusqueños gathered to watch traditional dances with women and men holding scarfs and ruffling their skirts and stomping their feet. I asked a man standing next to me what was the occasion, and as far as I could gather from his Spanish it was some sort of festival put on my local rich man... but I could be way off base. People were passing out this green colored drinks for the adults and Inca Cola to the kids. Everyone was clapping along merrily. All of it sort of directed at the altar, but more so to please the crowd. After this dance ended, the masked men came out and put on the second act. Their dance consisted of singing and circling around each other, with two men at a time getting into the middle of the circle and whipping eachother's boots. Slowly the whipping would get more intense and dramatic as they circle around each, but before it gets too bad the rest of the men in the circle break it up with some jovial singing and guffawing. And then two more men hop in for some more good old fashion boot whipping. This sound totally bizarre (and it was a little bit bizarre), but everything was so convivial and jolly that I found myself clapping and laughing along with everybody else. "¡Ay dios mio! That's gotta hurt! Ha ha ha!" I felt like I was seeing something I wasn't necessarily supposed to see, as I was the only foreigner around. And thus, felt truly lucky and fortunate.

After leaving the festivities I headed back in the direction of central Cusco to find the hostel Samay Wasi. After some oogling at the magnificance of the central Plaza de Armas (I'll write more about that later), I asked a kindly lady police officer where I might find said hostel. She thought it was past the central church de San Francisco. When I couldn't find it after that, I asked a nice girl from a juice shop. She said that she thought she had heard of it, and that it was on the next street, but didn't know if it was to the left or the right. After looking up and down that street, I asked a couple strolling down the street with their kids, they nicely offered to take me down the street to find it, only to stop at the bottom of the hill realizing it was way the hell up on one of the hills behind the city. After I couldn't find it then....more Cusqueños, more contradictory directions. Even though I coudn't find it I had a good time exploring the narrow cobblestone streets, saw many women dragging llamas around, had another delicious and soothing cup of Mate de Coca, got scammed into paying to have my picture taken wearing an alpaca hat next to a little girl and a llama, and made it to the top of the hill behind Cusco and had an incredible view of the entire city red tiles roofs and cathedral domes and all. I also learned two very important things:

1) People in Cusco, and I'm going to go ahead and say all of Peru, are incredibly friendly and helpful.
2) Hostel Samay Wasi does not exist.

That's a lot of blogging and about it for now (don't worry parents I found another place to stay). I might not write more this week, because my lodging doesn't have internet and on Tuesday I'm heading off on a four day trek to Machu Picchu. I can't believe it myself.

Hope you all are well.
Turista Supremo