At 7.30am this morning we left our hotel in Puno and at the bus stop boarded a rather luxurious looking coach for the seven hour journey to Cusco. We had a group of allocated seats and as I was first up the stairs I was delighted to bag one of the front seats at the top, with the best view of the journey! Little did I know, but I was soon to regret this.
I had a slightly sore head from the Pisco sour cocktails the night before and was looking forward to a peaceful, relaxing and scenic drive through the South American countryside. Immediately it became clear that this was not going to happen, and the relaxing ride I had envisioned was instead to be one that would have me fearing for my life – as I tightly gripped the sides of the seats whilst wondering whether to look at where we were going or close my eyes and hope for the best.
The driver drove extremely fast and it seemed even faster sitting at the top – he seemed to like racing around corners especially, and particularly the ones with steep cliff drops the other side. He would even drive out into the other lane to avoid slowing down on them! Throughout most of the trip it rained at varying levels, but the speed we were travelling at never decreased and I constantly wondered if at any minute we might slide off the road down a cliff – never to be seen again!
There were two stops, both of only 10 minutes each on the journey – just enough for a toilet stop. I was worrying that the driver wasn’t taking long enough breaks, but when I asked my tour guide he said there were two drivers…well – both were crazy!
On we went and in places the potholes in the road were enormous – our driver combatted this either by swerving around them, sometimes mounting the verge on the side of the road at great speed, whilst I silently cried whilst peering out of the window from above, or basically hurtling right through them – leaving us teeth-chattering and bouncing around in our seats. There was no sleep to be had here.
I couldn’t read or take my eyes off the road, yet I couldn’t bare to look – everything seemed too fast and when I asked my tour guide his opinion at dinner later he said he had thought the same. In the end through sheer exhaustion and fright I fell into a semi-coma rest and came to with extreme neck-ache as we entered Cusco. We had made it and we were all still alive. Hoorah!
I gratefully stepped off the bus, a rush of apprehension passing over me as I remembered we have two night buses soon to take!
Cusco is a beautiful city and I can’t wait to explore it more over the coming days. From here we will set off for the Lares trek in a day and a half and visit magical Machu Picchu.
Right now I am looking forward to a nice lie-in tomorrow and a break from buses. I won’t ever worry about flying again, that’s for sure!