Cusco and the Sacred Valley, Peru

Sitting on a wooden bench in Cusco's pretty Plaza de Armas surrounded by beautiful and ancient buildings we had a decision to make. We'd just visited a tour office and been informed that if we wanted to do the famous Inca Trail then we could as due to low season permits were still available. The Inca Trail books up months in advance as only a select number of hikers a day are allowed entry, as we had no idea when we'd be in Peru we had discounted the idea of doing it completely. I was in turmoil, would we regret it if we didn't do it? Could we justify the high cost? Were we even feeling up to it after the altitude sickness in La Paz? In the end we decided to turn down the opportunity. Low season in Peru coincides with rainy season and I wasn't keen on the idea of trekking at high altitude in the pouring rain for three days, sometimes saying no to something is the right thing to do.

Instead we booked a minibus to take us from Cusco to Hidroelectrica where we'd then walk along the railway tracks to Aguas Calientes the town that sits in a valley just below Machu Picchu. Our trip wasn't for a few days so we also booked two tours of the Sacred Valley to fit in as much as possible into our time in the area. After a day of decision making and acclimatising to the altitude we treated ourselves to dinner at Greenpoint a fantastic vegan restaurant. Walking at dusk through the vibrant alleyways by the Incan stone walls to the restaurant we peeked in little shops selling all sorts of curios; incense sticks, little statues and colourful fabrics; I was reminded of the quirky crystal shops in Glastonbury, England.

The next day in the afternoon we joined a tour of the local Sacred Valley sights. We were taken to Qorikancha a former convent turned museum where we learned how Incan walls were made; they required no mortar or cement as the stones were carved so precisely to fit together. We bought a chocolate covered custard filled doughnut from a local woman holding a tray outside, her sweet treats we're going down a storm. We visited many of the local sights but our favourite was Saqsayhuaman where we had just enough time to walk to a viewpoint over Cusco and admire the huge stone walls.

Cusco from Saqsayhuaman in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Local Woman and Alpaca in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Now we'd adjusted to the high altitude we decided to spend a full day exploring the Sacred Valley with an organised tour. The Boleto Turístico that we bought for 130 soles the day before would be our entrance ticket to all but one of the sights. First we stopped at a cultural centre to watch local women weave with naturally dyed wools, we were given a traditional drink to taste and of course encouraged to buy their handcrafted wares.

Naturally Dyed Wools in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Demonstration of Traditional Peruvian Craft in the Sacred Valley

The circular terraces of Moray were a sight to behold, each terrace was used by the Incans to grow experimental crops. The formation of the walls reminded me of an amphitheatre, the crops have since been replaced with lush green grass which is well managed. If you look closely at the walls you will notice small rocks jutting out which were the steps used by the Incans to easily walk from one terrace to the next.

Restored Moray Terraces in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Lush Green Moray in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Ollantaytambo is a name recognised by many who know of the Sacred Valley, the train to Machu Picchu departs from the small town but it also has an Incan sight of its own. We walked through the dusty town to the fortress and began walking up the steps. It was a hot day, the sun was blinding and the sky a perfect blue. The heat made walking a challenge, sweat dripped from my skin and my breathing was laboured. Everyone in the group tried to hide in a tiny sliver of shade created by the stone walls but the guide moved us all on to the top. The views of Ollantaytambo and the Incan sight were beautiful, facing the town and to the left was a cliff face where the Incan’s kept their produce, like a huge natural larder. To the right was a valley and on the other side of the valley was a quarry where the stones were sourced to build the fortress. The Incan’s would somehow have cut and collected the stone and with their might transported it across the valley and up the steep slopes. 

We tried our first Inca Cola at Salineras de Maras a salt mine which we paid an extra 10 soles to enter. Walking down the steps through market stalls selling tiny bags of medicinal salt, chocolate bars and trinkets we felt relief at being under some shade. Inca Cola is a luminous yellow colour, I couldn’t help but think it looked toxic when I saw other people swigging from the clear bottles with a blue label. It tasted however, just like sweet bubblegum. Water is collected in pools and evaporated to leave the salt behind, the pools looked like a patchwork quilt of browns in the valley. 

Salineras de Maras in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Patchwork Quilt Effect at Salineras de Maras in the Sacred Valley, Peru

My favourite sight of the day was Pisac. As we walked through the gates high in the valley the low sun shone through clouds casting shadows over the landscape. A man was playing a pipe; a tune I found so familiar as it has been played all throughout Peru. I’ve since learned that the tune is none other than Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel, it will forever remain a reminder of the beautiful Peruvian landscapes. We walked through a stone structure and there stood Pisac, draped in golden light, infamous lush green terraces and stone walls. We walked to the stone buildings, high on the top it was windy and we began to feel a chill in the air. The guide pointed at holes in the cliff face across the valley; they are Incan tombs that have since been raided by people looking to make money selling the priceless trinkets found inside on the black market.

Terraces at Pisac in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Light and Shadow at Pisac in the Sacred Valley, Peru

Visiting the Sacred Valley sights has fuelled my interest in Incan culture and only makes me more excited to see the most famous Incan sight of them all, Machu Picchu. 

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Arequipa and the Colca Canyon, Peru

Wandering through the brightly coloured alleyways in Santa Catalina convent I found myself transported to another time. A time when nuns would quietly walk through the courtyards filled with bountiful fruit trees and bright bougainvillea. Tenderly cared for geraniums and cacti were sitting in terracotta pots placed against vibrant orange and blue walls. Cavernous rooms featuring modest beds and hard stone floors could be explored; homely comforts were few and far between except for in one room where scatter cushions were provided on the floor for the nuns to take a seat and read. Now, the city within a city is a place for tourists to explore, though the magic of the quiet place still remains.

Colourful Santa Catalina Convent

Geraniums 

The convent was by far my favourite place in all of Peru's White City, Arequipa. We arrived on a wet evening after crossing the border from Bolivia. Awaking the next day and in recovery from a full week of altitude sickness in La Paz we explored slowly and thoughtfully. Breakfast at a cute café on a corner set us up for the day and after strolling the streets we visited Santa Catalina convent.

Succulents and Blue Walls

The following day we were awake for pick up at 4am; we had booked a tour to see Colca Canyon. The 100 mile drive was long and took us yet again to high altitude. Thankfully the stops involved very little walking. We stopped for breakfast which consisted of bread and jam; if you've travelled in South America for any length of time then you'll be familiar with this typical breakfast set up, a few months in and I'm frankly tired of it. We popped into a little church; outside ladies in traditional dress showed off their pompom wearing alpacas which for a few coins you can photograph.

We continued on to the canyon which was breathtaking. It is the second deepest in the world at approximately 3,400 metres at its deepest point, twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the U.S. The clouds gathered in the canyon below us and we were lucky to see majestic Andean condors soaring above our heads. The scale was vast and different to how I'd imagined. Growing up seeing photographs of the Grand Canyon meant I was expecting a dusty and barren landscape but the Colca Canyon is lush and green with crops and vegetation. Locals have preserved the Incan era terraces which lends a distinctly Peruvian feeling to the landscape.

We drove on to a little town where the guide seemed to know everyone; he took us through a bustling market where butchered animals hung from hooks surrounded by flies, fruits and vegetables were piled high on little tables and there were sacks overflowing with seeds and grain. We ate a buffet lunch on a long table with the rest of the group though we secretly bartered for a better price. There was spaghetti and tomato sauce, a Spanish style omelette with potato, salads and French fries. After gorging on as much food as we could manage we waddled back to the minibus to start the long journey back to Arequipa.

Lush Colca Canyon

Above the Clouds in Colca Canyon

The next day we booked a coach to leave that evening so we visited the cathedral on the leafy Plaza de Armas and ate lunch at a Mexican hole-in-the-wall café which was delicious. Cusco was our next stop which to me meant only one thing; Machu Picchu was merely days away.

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Travelling as an Introvert

Just to give a little bit of context; I've always been quiet. In school I'd never raise my hand even if I knew the answer, teachers would comment that I was a daydreamer although they didn't phrase it in such a nice way. Dozy, that's what they used to say to me. It's a memory that still hurts. I'd pretend to write so that I wasn't asked a question in front of the class. Despite appearances I was paying attention, I just never let on; because if I looked like I knew the answer I might be asked about it or singled out. Being singled out in front of the class was the worst.

Quiet, shy with anxiety induced blushing. That last part is a wordy way of saying 'I go red all the time'. Not only if I'm embarrassed but if I see a friend in the street I'm not expecting to see or if more than a couple of people have their attention on me. Public speaking is a no-go and I find it very tough even joining a conversation at a party. Being kind of quiet is one thing but the fear of going red when I speak makes things so much harder.

There are lots of people I wish I had the courage to talk to more; when I was at university I had a network of my closest friends but struggled widening the net, I couldn't just walk up to someone and have a chat even if we were on the same course. The blushing would stop me, if it was someone I was intimidated by in any way or someone I admired then I knew I would embarrass myself so it was easier to not say anything. On my Fine Art degree I think I only had one critique with the whole class in three years, on my Fine Art Masters degree I didn't have any.

Now, being a shy introvert while travelling is hard. I'm lucky in that I have an outgoing other half who is able to chat to people freely. He can engage with strangers easily, enjoys socialising and doesn't fret about saying the wrong thing. He asks the questions and starts the conversations. I sit there listening, sometimes I try to chime in but a lot of the time I don't. If there's a social gathering going on in the hostel I usually won't take part. I find crowds or more than a few people overwhelming and small talk very tiring. The other day in Bogotá for example; Craig joined in with cocktails and chat with a large group of backpackers while I retreated to a quiet table to write in my journal and pet the hostels German shepherd. Like that wonderful Gemma Correll illustration I'm the one on the floor stroking the pets at a party. I worry that I'm perceived as grumpy or unfriendly sometimes because I'm not joining in. I'm sure my other half wishes I was more outgoing too; it would make things easier. It's always up to him to ask the bus driver if we're going the right way or to get directions from a stranger in the street. 

This is a very personal thing for me to write. Because being introverted, shy and awkward induces anxiety and makes me a very emotional person. On this trip I've cried a lot, when things haven't gone as planned or when I've found being away too overwhelming. I'll sometimes think about my quiet place at home, visions of surrounding myself in the cosy duvet that's thousands of miles away. 

Only in recent years have I learned why I am the way I am and by learning a little about myself I've also learned to accept myself a little more too. I read Quiet by Susan Cain recommended to me by an online friend. It radically changed the way I thought of myself and helped me to understand what being an introvert means. I've learned that I'm an INFJ personality type, apparently the rarest. It means that I'm a person that needs time to recharge often, that I can also be highly sensitive too. It also means that I'm a great listener to those that I feel connected with and that I have a great deal of compassion for others. It's what makes me a creative person, I see the world in a different way and I think (and overthink) a lot. 

I find it so challenging to travel, even with a partner because it goes against that voice in my head that says stay at home, you don't want to interact today. But, travelling is what I do and it is a big part of who I am. I've learned that I can be adventurous and quiet. I carve time out to be by myself which is a hard thing to do in a backpacker community but it's necessary for me. And I'm learning not to apologise for it. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's ok, I'm realising that I don't have to be an outgoing person to be a traveller. It's not all Full Moon Party's and bar crawls. It's whatever I want it to be, slow days at a hostel, peaceful walks through national parks and plenty of time for contemplation.

Over the course of this trip I've worried somewhat about the way I'm perceived by others but by being away and out of my comfort zone I'm slowly learning not to care and to instead think about the positives of being an introvert. I take time to listen; to birds singing and to people chatting. I look more closely at details and thoughtfully leave myself notes to remember how I felt at that moment. I let my imagination run wild and ponder the big questions. I'm grateful to be able to see the world through my own special lens, one that transforms landscapes into paintings and flora into poetry. Being the quiet girl allows me the time to contemplate and when all is said and done I wouldn't change that for anything. 

Are you a quiet person, a traveller or both? Does it feel like being introverted stands in your way at all or that it defines you in a negative or a positive way? I'd love to know your thoughts.