Arequip

To get from Puno to Arequipa, we were told it was going to be another six hour bus ride. When I did my research on traveling times before the trip, most people said it was only four hour trip by bus. Oh well, another two hours wasn't bad. Little did we know it was going to turn into an eight hour bus trip. Anywho, so we get on in the morning (we decided to take the bus ride during the daylight this time to see the scenary) and immediately wrinkle our noses and stare at eachother. Anyone who knows us knows that we have pretty low standards as far as cleanliness and comfortability goes, but this bus was disgusting. It had just rained and the front window where we had taken our seats on the upper deck was leaking and dripping on my arm and Graham's toes. Since the bus had several leaks, there was mildew and mold growing on the carpeting areas beneath the windows and puddles of water at our feet. The seats themselves looked like they hadn't been cleaned in weeks - there were chip crumbs, nasty looking stains and leftover food everywhere. I put on my rainjacket and sat like I was in a straight jacket, not wanting to move should I accidentally come in contact with the seat and mold. Graham immediately comments, "We need to find some Vitamin C in the next town." I don't think Vitamin C would ward off what we were going to come in contact with on the bus. It was beyond any pill or injection you could get to fight a disease or illness. We should have known better when we saw that there weren't any tourists on the bus when we left the bus terminal. In fact, there were hardly any people on the bus at all. Maybe ten total. This is why it would become an eight hour bus ride, for the next eight hours we stopped at every street corner for all least 15 minutes trying to fill the bus. At one stop we were there for an hour picking up people. I couldn't take it any longer - I had to go to the bathroom. Based on the experience I had last time, I was a little nervous. The door was hard to open like the last, but I felt like I could open it with little effort so I closed the door, and hovered above the toilet. Then I noticed the window - there was no secrecy to going to the bathroom on this bus - everyone on the street, including the woman making lunch on the corner, could watch me go to the bathroom. Wonderful. I didn't really care.

About four hours into the bus ride, the driver pulls over for a rest stop. Everyone gets out and all the men, including Graham, which had to be about 20 people or so, line up on the dirt pullout behind the small store, unzip their flies and go. I really wanted to take a picture but I didn't. I found a small outhouse and squated over a hole in the ground. I love how simplistic things are out here. After seeing the condition of the outhouse (watch your step so you don't step on a turd!) I understood why the men went outside.

After about another hour we stopped again, this time at an inspection station. A few men with weapons start rummaging through people's packs, thankfully not ours, and ended up taking a woman's box. "Mi comeda, mi comeda!" "My food, my food!" she kept yelling. It was definitely a little worrisome.

The most annoying part about the entire trip though was that the driver allowed a man with a loud speaker who ranted on and on about poor sick children for over an hour. Graham and I tried to pretend like we were sleeping but he'd get right in your face with his speaker and say in Spanish, "Do you care about the sick kids. For only $$ you can save a child's life." At one point he was talking about us because I heard him say "touristas". Annoying. To drown out the man with the loud speaker, the driver cranked up the music which was almost as loud as the man with the loud speaker.

After finally arriving in Arequipa we gathered some beta about climbing a 19,000ft peak in the area, El Misti, and strolled through the markets.