Near Misses

Today we meet our group (all good) and the 13 of us fly to Cusco, elevation 11,152 feet. At the airport in Lima , we proceed to our gate and then all head outside to board a jitney that will take us to our small plane. For some reason, I look inside my carry-on to see a sickening black hole that should have contained my purse. Upon telling my hero, he shouts, "Go!" I sprint back to the terminal offering the briefest of explanations to the guards and gate personnel. I dash to where I thought we´d been sitting, only to spot my beloved handbag abandonned on a bank of seats. Oh thank you to the angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven! We land in Cusco, where, in spite of the high altitude meds, I start to feel compromised almost immediately. Ron is fine. We meet our guides, Angel and Percy (both adorable) and our driver, Jose. Because it´s a bit crowded on Sunday, we take an alternate route which brings us through a poor area of Cusco where the houses are built on the mountain side and there is only one road that continues out of town. Since few of the residents have cars, there is one way up and one way down into Cusco - a series of steep staircases by which the children go to school, the women to market, and the men to work. It´s nearly vertical and it´s a long way. Awesome! We drive through Urubamba, the Sacred Valley, I with a pounding headache, bouts of tingling limbs, and some occasional dizziness. I fall into a stupor on the bus, dozing as we go. We stop in Chincero for a demonstration of spinning wool and alpaca (on a hand-held spindle that looks like a top), dyeing (using plants and minerals), and weaving (using a contrivance that fits around the weaver´s back and attaches in front to a pole, door, etc., so that the weaver´s feet stretch out in front of her.) The men wear what looks like ski caps with long sides to cover their ears which they knit themselves. I am feeling too compromised to shop for anything after the demonstation. We drive on to lunch for which I rally briefly. Once at our very luxurious hotel in Urubamba, I sink into bed despite the beauty of the grounds which deserve exploration. I sleep until Angel´s Inca lecture at 7 P.M. BTW, the word Inca refers only to the king. His subjects are the Quechuan people. We go to dinner but after the pumpkin soup, I must go back to the room and leave the others to enjoy dinner while I bathe, pack my small overnight back for Aguas Caliente and go to bed, praying that my symptoms will abate. Good news: We have several doctors in our group so there is no limit to the assistance I can muster, should that be needed.