October 13th 2015
Puno didn’t go as planned, the sickness from Isla De Sol only grew worse and I had to bail on a visit to Taquile, an Island my mother and father visited about 30 years ago and had an amazing time, instead I spent two nights curled up in bed with frequent trips to the bathroom. Ah the joys of being sick on the road. I do manage to convince Sara to at least go do something, visiting a pre-incan burial site just outside of Puno on the first full day there. It’s a cheap (30 Soles) and easy tour to book at any hotel, we did it at our Virgen De Nieves III located just two blocks from the local port on Avenida del puerto. If you’re more than one person the rooms are comfy, the wifi and hot water work, and at 25 Soles each for twin room it’s not badly priced either. Sara gave a mixed review to Sillustani saying it was an okay way to spend a day, but nothing truly amazing.
On the second day I’m still feeling nowhere near good enough to climb up the island of Taquile so instead we go and find a midday bus to Cusco, our next destination. We find a Cama bus stopping over on the way from Arequipa and pay 35 soles for comfy seats. Really I think the fair price is 25 soles, but I’m too sick to argue.
We get into Cusco about 10 pm and head into VIP House, a hostel I’ve not stayed at before, a little cheaper than my usual Kilombo hostel and with an awesome sheep dog, if less comfortable beds and much less functional wifi. I’m still sick but I do seem to be slowly recovering so we head out into the town the next day and book our Machu Picchu tickets, our return bus journey to Hidro Electrica for 75 Soles. that said we give me an extra day and recovery and so the next day Sara and I are walking to Pavitos street and climbing into a minivan bound for the turn off to Salinas De Maras, which marks my third time visiting this incredible natural wonder.
We climb off the minibus, me having spent the last hour chatting with a San Francisco Toronto hybrid on his honeymoon about Canadian Politics, and quickly find a nice dutch man to share our taxi with us to the Salinas. (40 Soles round trip per taxi including 1 hour waiting). We end up driving into the town of Maras and dropping off a few locals hitching a ride before our driver takes us to the Salinas, stopping above them and letting us take some photos.
Our driver is beyond friendly chatting away with me the whole time as we head down towards the parking lot. when he finds out i’m still really battling sickness and am considering not walking down to the salinas, to avoid the uphill walk (just 10-15 minutes but in my state a lot more) he laughs and shakes his head, sharing a quick word with the gate attendant and then navigating down a winding narrow road far past the parking lot cutting out the vast majority of the walk for me. Being friendly and making friends with easy smiles pays off again.
Thrilled we pile out of the car and through the last of the tourist stalls out onto the salt flats. Both my companions are wide eyed and in Awe, and honestly despite it being my third visit, I am too. they get the benefit of me as a tour guide, showing them down onto the actual paths between the over 3000 salt pools. To read more about the history and cultivation of the salt check out one of my first two entries here, and here.
As we walk out onto the salt flats I’m still amazed by the dazzling whiteness and this natural phenomenon that humans have worked, crafted and lived off for hundreds of years.
We continue on further out onto the huge mass of salt pools leaving most of the tourists behind. The tours give less time and we’ve negotiated a full our with our friendly driver so we can make it almost out to the end of the incredible white pools, even despite my sickly slow pace.
As you can tell from above Sara is so captured by the place that she grows even more eager for photo’s of her and I still just look around marvelling at the intricate irrigation of the single salinated mountain stream, providing for an entire towns economy. So damned impressive.
Eventually our time runs out and we have to hurry back along the endless salt, balanced precariously on the narrow ledges between the countless terraces. Dizzy as I am it’s quite miraculous I don’t take a tumble into one of the pools.
I end up back at the car alright and together we drive back to the intersection with the main road where we pay and say goodbye to our friendly driver and climb onto a bus conveniently pulling away just as we arrive. On the way back I snap a few shots of the local life and the looming mountains, before we get back to Cusco, excited for Machu Picchu on the morrow, though for me at least all will not go to plan.
