Tomorrow please join me in welcoming paranormal romance and Young Adult author Maureen McGowan to the blog. Maureen’s blogging on the topic Publishing is No Fairy Tale and will give away a copy of THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE (Running Press, December 2009), which includes her story, Lost and Found.
About Lost and Found:
“Lost and Found” is a mash up of Groundhog Day, The Time Traveler’s Wife and Life on Mars. In 1967, Jake falls asleep on a bench in New York’s Central Park and becomes trapped in a seemingly endless time loop. Every day he wakes in the same place, in the same clothes, on the same date—just in a different year. Can finding love give him an anchor in time?
About THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE:
Time has no meaning for true love.
Twenty tales of swashbuckling adventure and passionate romance from some of the most exciting names in romantic fiction. Join the heroines in this delightful anthology as they step backwards—or forwards—in time, transported to the Scottish Highlands of yesteryear, the Wild West, or the distant future. Propelled through time into situations rich with possibility and fraught with danger, these sexy, sassy heroines each seek their dreamed of happy ending.
Will souls separated by time be reunited—or kept apart—forever?
About Maureen:
Maureen McGowan has twice been a finalist in the prestigious Golden Heart® Competition, (2007 and 2010), and in 2008 was a finalist in the Amazon Breakout Novel Competition. Her short story, “Lost and Found”, was published in THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE in December, 2009. Her first two young adult novels, CINDERELLA: NINJA WARRIOR and SLEEPING BEAUTY: VAMPIRE SLAYER will be hitting the shelves in Spring, 2011.
Maureen has always been making up stories—her mother called it lying, her teachers creative talent—but sidetracked by a persistent practical side, it took her a few years to channel her energy into writing novels. Before seeing the light, she was: an auditor, a knowledge engineer, a software development manager, a product development director and a hedge fund CFO.
She finally pummeled her sensible side into submission to let her creative side run free. Aside from books and writing, she’s passionate about art, dance, films, fine handcrafted objects and shoes. She lives and writes in Toronto, Canada.
To learn more about Maureen and her writing, please visit her website.
The day after our souvenir-buying spree, we decided to take a taxi to the furthest-from-Cusco of one of four ruins. It was only 9-11 kilometres away (depending who you ask). Surely we could walk back (one day of feeling good, and I get grand ideas).
Now, taxis in Peru can be irritating as all get-out, but when you want one, man, it’s there. Our first encounter with honking taxis was in Nasca, which doesn’t get anywhere as many tourists as Cusco. We couldn’t figure out WHY the taxis in Nasca were honking all the freaking time! Once we were in Cusco, we realized that every time a taxi sees a potential fare, they honk. The potential fare could be a person trying to flag them down (except I don’t think you ever have to flag down a taxi in Cusco, as they have such an eagle-eye on their surroundings), or a person walking down the street that may or may not look like a tourist. We learned to drown out the sound of the honking taxis. When we needed a taxi to drive us to Tambomachay, the honking suddenly didn’t seem so bad!
M.L. "giving perspective" by doing one of his goofy poses at Tambomachay, an ancient Inca ceremonial bath site.The fountains still running with water. They were beautiful.
We climbed the hills across from the ceremonial baths. Way behind me, in the distance, you can glimpse the second ruin we visited this day, Puca Pucara. (No worries if you can't see it, a closer shot is coming).While on the hill in the above photo, we noticed a cave above the ruins across the way. So of course M.L. had to climb up there, too. While trying to find the cave, we passed (or rather we were passed by) an old woman herding her cattle and donkeys. You can glimpse her hat just above the rear of the cow or steer or whatever it is. Something with horns.
We walked to Puca Pucara from Tambomachay. It was maybe 5 minutes away. "Easy-Peasy!" we thought. "No problem walking all the way back to Cusco." Of course, the little gasps of breath from being at 11,000 feet were already getting to us. But, other than a few tour vans, we saw—for once!—no taxis. Our taxi had left to find another fare after dropping us off at Tambomachay.
Puca Pucara (aka Pukapukara) is a small fortress that was probably used to store supplies or maybe as a guard post. No one really knows. It’s a nice spot to hang around awhile. However, then we had to walk (so our guidebook told us) 90 – 120 minutes to the next site closest to Cusco, Q’Enko. We tried to walk! We walked through a small village, but the altitude was wearing on us (and our wimpiness, I’m sure!). We made a pact that if a taxi drove by honking at us, we would stop him. And so we did! We hopped a taxi and caught a ride to what we thought was the entrance to the Q’Enko ruin. The sign said Q’Enko. But, basically, we were dropped off in the middle of nowhere. We walked and walked and walked. Asked some directions off some musicians that had just popped out of their own taxi. They thought we were looking for something else entirely, or possibly they were just having fun at our expense. Finally, we realized we were on a dirt road amidst fields with nothing vaguely resembling an Incan site, except, lo and behold, there was a guy lounging against the fence beside a dozen horses. With our limited Spanish, we managed to get out of him that we had basically walked in the wrong direction. So we returned the way we’d come (after tipping the horse guy for his directions), waved to the guy who’d given us the wrong directions, then eventually found the back way into the Q’Enko ruins.
The Q’Enko ruins are a bunch of huge rocks that might have been used for ritual ceremonies and/or sacrifices. The big huge rocks create an interior “cave.” You can climb around inside the caves and imagine where blood might have flowed if your throat was cut in sacrifice.
Steve is one of the "caves" created by the huge rocks at Q'Enko.
After Q’Enko, we walked to Sacsayhuamán, a positively HUGE set of ruins that is still being excavated near Cusco. It was quite amazing. Sacsayhuamán is pronounced sort of like “saxywoman,” so a few times you’ll hear the joke “sexy woman.”
Peruvian children sliding down granite hills at Sacsayhuamán.An massive site! A military fortress or religious temple? No one really knows. Apparently, it took nearly 100 years to build.The zigzag shape of the walls reminded us of a huge snake.That's ONE rock. We're all lovey-dovey to show the size perspective (okay, for other reasons, too).Because Steve is instatiably curious, he just HAD to stick his camera into one of the carved drains in the huge rock walls. So you're not looking at the inside of an elephant's trunk or someone's intestines, I assure you.Steve at Sacsayhuamán.
You can catch great views of Cusco from the hills around these ruins. There’s also a giant white statue of Christ a fair hike away. I just could not handle another uphill hike at 11,000 – 12,000 feet above sea level, so we hired a pretty beat-up looking taxi with a young driver to take us to the Christo Blanco, then wait there while we had a look, then drive us back to Cusco.
If you’re old enough to have ever watched an epsiode of The Streets of San Francisco, that’s what our drive back to Cusco felt like, a car chase through those streets! Especially once we reached the city. Because we’d asked him to drive us to the Plaza de Armas. To do that, he had to drive down narrow, steep streets, dodging tourists and vendors. But we survived. This was the last night we spent in Cusco. A well-deserved “rest,” if you can call it that, after all our hiking at Machu Picchu.
We were finished the 3rd leg of our 4-leg trip. Next stop, Lake Titicaca near Puno!
Our train trip from Aguas Calientes back to Cusco was uneventful. It took a few stops and transfers to accommodate route changes as a result of the 2010 flooding, but we made it back to our tour hotel for one final night without incident. Unless you count my health. Everything came to a head that rest day back in Cusco, and I’m sure the return to an 11,000 foot altitude didn’t help. I basically laid in bed for the rest of the day. I do believe we emerged at some point to visit the bar and get some snacks there. I had a little pizza that was pretty tasty, but My Liege had an awesome spicy beef appetizer. Oh, yeah, sure, the first time he orders beef and I don’t it’s amazing. I wanted to eat all of his appetizer and let him have my pizza, but he didn’t go for it.
The next morning we changed hotels. I was a little nervous about the switch, because we’d been in 5-star hotels since first arriving in Cusco, and all through the Sacred Valley and Aguas Calientes, and because those hotels came with the tour we’d booked I could blame any dissatisfaction on the tour company. Not so easy to do when you’ve scoured the Internet and hotel review sites and booked the hotel yourself. And we were dropping down to three stars. Well, I tell you, it was a fantabulous change. We stayed at the Hotel Rumi Punku on an obscure street with a difficult-to-pronounce name. The street was nothing to write home about. Narrow, with construction or more probably renovations going on across the road. In Cusco, when they’re renovating or simply don’t want you to see what’s going on on the other side of the street, they cover the building in question with huge sheets of corrugated tin. So, a narrow street, and the door to our hotel was quite literally a hole in the wall. But! A hole in a wall that still had original Inca stonework. And, like most “a hole in the wall” places in Cusco, the entrance opened up into a beautiful little hotel with multiple courtyards, a very pleasant staff, and a decent breakfast.
The Hotel Rumi Punki. Three stars, but I far preferred it to the 5 star hotel we'd just come from. It didn't have a restaurant (although breakfast is served), but restaurants abound in the area, and for the difference in price, the savings we incurred, it was definitely a worthwhile move. When I booked, I went "all out" and asked for a king-sized bed. We had a fantastic, new-looking bathroom that never lacked for hot water.
Our room was very quiet, but we did have some noise. Like what sounded like very loud firecrackers going off early in the morning. It was nearing the end of May, and some festival or another was rapidly approaching. Wake up, wake up! We didn’t mind.
We had two free days in Cusco where we intended to just relax and do some touring on our own. The first thing we did was an Inca Stone Walking Tour. We had a map (without a listed route, we just flew by the seat of our pants) and our Frommer’s Peru (recommended), and off we went. We discovered this one amazing street filled with Inca walls. M.L got in trouble for nearly touching one of the stones! We realized a little policeman was stationed across the narrow street solely to blow his whistle at people like my dh.
After the whistle-blowing, M.L. behaved. We saw many amazing rocks in this wall. All tight Inca construction with Spanish buildings on top. The conquistadors recognized good foundations when they saw them. No reason to destroy the Inca foundations, just the Inca buildings.
Before heading out on our walking tour, we scoured laundries around the Hotel Rumi Punku and negotiated a fantastic rate from a pleasant young woman who delivered our laundry back to us exactly when she said she would (well, we had to pick it up from her). Laundry facilities abound in Cusco. You just have to do some exploring and decide if you want your stuff handwashed and hung to dry, or you prefer machines. We wanted machines. We liked our girl so much that we stopped her from negotiating her price down, down, down and I think we even gave her a sucker (we’d discovered these cherry suckers with gum in the middle called Globbopops, and we consumed them by the bagful. They really helped with the after-effects of my health issues, which were rapidly slowing, I’m pleased to report).
We stumbled upon this celebration in the Plaza de Armas. When the cause exists, they'll take one of their statues out of a church and parade it around. We had no clue why they were doing this today, but it was fun to watch.
For some reason, this marching band in the parade felt compelled to spray shaving cream on the crowd.
My camera card had filled up, so I went and sat on a park bench to change it while M.L. hung around the parade. I sat on a bench with room for three people, but an old woman working her worry beads was already there. I assumed when I sat it would just be her and me. Within minutes, an elderly gentleman showed up. I thought he was with her. But when he sat down, he began talking to me. In Spanish. We did pretty good, considering M.L. had the phrasebook and I was just getting by on the few words I’d learned our, so far, 2.5 weeks there. I learned the man’s name was Ernesto and that he lived in the mountains and had come to Cusco for whatever celebration was occurring or would occur soon. Later, I introduced him to M.L., who felt bereft that we didn’t get a picture of me with this friendly old guy. But I’d rather have the conversation than the picture. It was the highlight of my day.
Two main churches are on the Plaza de Armas. Shops and restaurants circle the square as well. I don't think I ever got a shot of the big cathedral we toured together, but I walked through this church on my own while M.L. rested in the square. I love the dark clouds hovering in the background. I told M.L. it was the ghosts of the Conquistadors.
You could climb the bell tower and wave out at the crowds. M.L. told me he would watch for me. So there I am, waving and waving and waving, while he's chatting up a Spanish woman sitting with him on his bench! I was nearly ready to climb back down when he finally saw me and snapped a few piccies. Men!After a day of shopping for souvenirs, I was becoming more and more accustomed to "Peruvian Disneyland," so I did something I swore I would not do. I paid to have my picture taken with these two girls and the sweet little lambs. They said I could pay whatever I felt was right, but after I paid them, they immediately asked for more! It was all smiles and chuckles. Of course they want to get as much as they can. This is their job, walking around asking tourists if they want their picture taken. The least I could do was oblige once!
Machu Picchu deserves two full days of pictures and anecdotes. I went skinny on the anecdotes on Monday because, really, the pictures say it all. But today I’ll introduce you to…Cindiana Jones! That’s what I felt like exploring the Inca sanctuary/citadel that was once considered the “Lost City of the Incas.” (Today, other less-accessible sites are more likely to claim the title). We had a full day at Machu Picchu, and we intended to make the most of it. Like I mentioned in a previous post, we had dreams of arriving at Machu Picchu early enough to make it into one of the two groups (200 people each at 7 a.m. and 10 a.m.) to climb Huayna Pichhu, the mountain in the background of the most famous of Machu Picchu photos (like mine—see back to this post). (Well, I guess I can’t claim my pictures are famous, but the view is!) We spoke to our guide about it the night before (which was torrential-downpourish). He pretty much talked us out of it, in that it became very evident very quickly that he did not want to meet us at 4 a.m. and get a taxi or whatever to the gates to wait in line and claim our spots to climb Huayna Picchu. He told us that the “sunrise” that everyone always wants to see at Machu Picchu didn’t occur until 7 a.m. anyway. The sun rose long before 7 a.m., but not in the specific area to which he referred. Oh, well, it was cloudy anyway. But not rainy. We couldn’t figure out why the GAP representative (the tour company we used) who met us in Lima before we flew to Cuzco told us to let our guide know we wanted to climb the mountain and he would make it happen told us that—and then he didn’t. Initially, we weren’t very impressed with him because of that. He made up for it by providing us with an excellent tour of Machu Picchu. And considering how exhausted I was (not being in the best health at this point) after eight hours of climbing all over the terraces, I can’t imagine how worn out I would have become climbing Huayna Picchu. But a part of me will always be a little disappointed that our guide did not present the opportunity to us, especially after we asked.
Yes, I’m whining. I couldn’t climb Huayna Picchu, so I snapped my zoom lens onto my camera and shot this close-up instead:
Yes, that could have been me huffing and puffing my way up the mountain. But it wasn't. Instead, I made do with other explorations.
Moi in the quarry. Machu Picchu wasn't finished when the Spanish conquistadors showed up, so these huge boulders are still waiting to get carved into more amazing structures.There are llamas all over Machu Picchu. If you have llamas, you don't need lawnmowers. The llamas ARE the lawnmowers.Our guide told us there were plenty of places we could hike to at Machu Picchu instead of Huayna Picchu. One hike was to the reconstruction of the Inca Bridge. That's what Pte. Inca means. "Inca Bridge."I slapped on my zoom lens again so I could take close-ups. I took this picture on the trail to the Inca Bridge. You can see the reconstructed wooden bridge built off a sheer cliff face. I swear it was like over 1000 feet down if you fell. And I'm afraid of heights! Before our guide left us to mosey around Machu Picchu on our own, he assured me that the path to the Inca Bridge lookout point had "walls." Uh huh. Um, yeah.
If you google Inca Bridge, you’ll find that there are two types of such structures, one being a rope bridge and the other, as shown above, being a trunk bridge. This bridge was another route into Machu Picchu. Why not just continue the path, you ask? Why leave a gap for a bridge? Because, if you have a trunk (as in tree trunks) bridge, you can easily destroy it. Comes in handy when your enemies are chasing you.
Before we could walk the path to the Inca Bridge look-out (there was a wimpy wood gate preventing you from going any further. IOW, no one actually gets to walk on the bridge anymore), we had to sign a guestbook of sorts. Why do you think that is? We were assured that “tourists never fall off the cliff.” Yet you need to sign the book before you continue on (unless the guy at the desk isn’t there; then you might not realize you need to sign the book). You sign when you enter the path and you sign when you successfully emerge again. If you don’t “sign out,” what does that mean? Are you camping on the narrow path? Have you Cindiana-Jonesed your way across the bridge? Or have you taken a tumble down a 1900-foot cliff? (I just googled the height). I’ll let YOU decide.
Yeah, that wall really extends all the way to the look-out point for the Inca Bridge! Um, not. We reached a very scary portion of the path (for the height-impaired, at any rate.) There I was, paralyzed by fear while the dh went forth without me. The path narrows right after the point where he took this picture. I swear, it couldn't have been more than eighteen inches wide. With no wall! Although there was a cable of sorts hooked into the curved rock that you could hang onto to get around the corner.
So there I stood while other people passed me by. Moments passed. Moments and minutes and more moments passed. Finally, M.L. returned. “Cindy, you just gotta see this!” Something to that effect emerged from his mouth. Lucky for him, I had already decided that I had to conquer my fear. I finally conquered my fear of roller coasters that flip you upside-down while chaperoning Youngest Son’s band trip to Disneyland years ago. I could do this! So when M.L. returned, I agreed. I would do it. But no way could I have done it without his help.
He took my daypack from me, wearing his on his back and mine on his front. Then he went ahead of me and held my right hand with his left while I gripped the rope-cable thingy with my left hand and stared at the cliff the rope-cable thingy was stuck into with my left eye. My right eye was closed, because there was zero wall at that point and if I had ANY chance of seeing how far up I was, I knew I’d get vertigo and destroy myself.
But I made it! Cindiana Jones!
Evidence that I made it. Rosy-cheeked evidence, LOL. The red cheeks are from physical exertion and sheer fear! I always get very red cheeks from exercise, and M.L. and I had been hiking around for a fair while.
Someone else took the above picture. No way was I attempting self-portraiture with only that little fence to protect us from falling onto/entering the rest of the path to the bridge.
Can you see how skinny the path is beyond the look-out point? Those Incas were crazy!
A close-up of the reconstructed bridge. I'm pretty sure M.L. would have tried it if he were allowed. He's crazy that way. I'm not!
On the way back, M.L. still carried both daypacks and went in front of me again. This time he held onto my left hand while I gripped the rope-cable thingy with my right. My LEFT eye was closed (the eye closest to the drop-off cliff) while my right eye was firmly glued to the rock the rope-cable thingy was sunk into.
While climbing around the less frequently visited parts of the ruins, M.L. discovered this amazing animal. He'd never seen anything like it. I wasn't with him when he found it, but he insisted I had to go back with him. We kept approaching this strange creature, part rabbit, part squirrel, getting closer and closer while M.L. took pictures. Another tourist, an American, was as enthralled as we were. He took tons of pictures, too. Later, we discovered the animal isn't a rarity, after all. It's a chinchilla!
On our way out of Machu Picchu for the day, M.L. "encouraged" me to pet a llama. By this point, we'd walked around the ruins completely at least twice, leaving the gates to eat lunch and visit the bathroom (you had to pay for toilet paper), and then entering again. We fell asleep that night utterly exhausted.
Out of everywhere we went in Peru, Machu Picchu is the one spot I would consider visiting again. Not because I didn’t enjoy the other places, like Nasca and Huancayo and Lake Titicaca, but because it’s a lot easier to get to than the 3 others. Well, I could be convinced to take the train to Huancayo again. However, other train rides occur in other parts of South America, like the Devil’s Nose in Ecuador, so I probably wouldn’t duplicate the train to Huancayo again. The only thing that would bother me about returning to Machu Picchu is that I don’t know if seeing the ruins a second time would have the same effect as the first. But if we were traveling with friends and they insisted we make that one stop again with them, I could be convinced. It was that beautiful and surreal.
