Contrary to popular belief, we actually went to Peru

Over the past week, Madeline and I have received several impatient inquiries about our supposed trip to Peru. Some think it might have been imaginary. Others became rather nettled that Madeline, after two weeks, was still "Missing Squirrels."

The thing is, we actually go to school here. I know, right? Turns out our precious professor Señor Whipple (pronounced whip-lay) is capable of inflicting unbearable pain ... you know, that kind of pain that comes when you have to memorize all there is to know about the Mexican Revolution, but all you really want to do is blog? Maybe Adair Swayze can best relate.

Anyways. To those of you who had faith that we'd eventually deliver, here is a slew of posts and pictures to satisfy your emptiness.

We went to Peru. The journey started with a slumber party in the Lima airport. Madeline is quite capable of sleeping in the oddest of positions. I am not. So I just contemplated how mysteriously wonderful it was that, within a couple hours, we had landed in a whole different country.

From Lima, we headed to Cusco. Luckily, we met a nice taxi man in the airport who ended up organizing for us basically everything we wanted to do during our four days in the country. This was great, especially after being warned by basically everyone ... including the US State Department ... that Peru was a dangerous country; that we shouldn't hop in anything but government-certified taxis or else they'll bind us up, drive us to the desert, and steal our money; that pick-pocketers are about as common the number of times Madeline mentions she wants a pumpkin spice latté, etc. We did have a semi-scary moment, though. Taxi man handed our passports to a sulky teen in the corner of the tourist office and told him to run down the street to make photocopies. And that's how we almost lost our identities. 

Anyways, here's Cusco, via photos.

We knew exactly what this building was from our Quechua class! It's called Coricancha ... pucha! I can't remember now why the Incas thought it was so important.

Forget excessively sugary Nuts-for-Nuts, Santiago. Let the street vendors bring bird eggs!

And we ran into these guys ...

This massive shaking statue of some virgin saint gave me nightmares.

Pretty cathedral.

Cusco is at about 11,000 feet. We were also advised by the hypochondriac State Department to chew on coca leaves (yes, the rudimentary version of cocaine) the second we got off the plane to avoid brain edemas and imminent death due to altitude sickness. So we indulged. 

Yuck. The memory of the taste of the coca is coming back to me ...

And then our trusty taxi driver followed through by sending us a guy to transport us from Cusco to Aguas Calientes, at the base of Machu Picchu. On the way, though, he showed us several hidden gems of the Peruvian countryside.

Gem #1: MOUNTAINS. Maybe the best ever.

Gem #2: A woman who can turn cactus fungi into wool dye.

We met the cutest woman ever. She taught us how to make yarn. And dye it. And she rubbed cactus fungi on our faces.

Just throwing some volcanic ash into our dye brew. You know.

And there's the dyed yarn! Makes me want some spaghetti.

Gem #3: One of the oldest natural salt factories in the world.

Gem #4: Experimental agricultural projects

Each ring signifies a different micro-climate ... the temperature descends about two degrees Celsius on each level!

Those are people in the middle!

Once bidding farewell to our awesome driver (well, awesome to Mads and me ... he might've lost awesome points in Allison's book for picking his nose), we hopped a train to Aguas Calientes. On the train we met a lovely 80+-year-old French couple who could barely speak a lick of Spanish or English ... and all Madeline can say in French is, "I'm sorry I left the milk on the table." So that made conversation super productive (not). The man tried to spray me with bug spray ... but I didn't completely understand why. If only I had known ... I'll let Madeline fill you in on that. Always trust the French.