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Adventure Travel Expo here we come!

Aug 29th 2010

By: Jacquie

6 comments
Vidal called me from the Newark airport. He made it through customs and was waiting for his connection to Norfolk, VA. He remarked about how clean and new everything was.

Vidal gets his feet wet in the Atlantic Ocean

I drove to the airport to meet him and the first place I took him was to my kitchen for food. It was not in Vidal’s nature to be waited on, so it was awkward for him not be serving me my lunch! As soon as we were finished eating, Vidal hopped up to carry in the dishes to the sink. I tried to explain that we had a dishwashing machine, but he washed the dishes by hand in the sink anyway.

With plenty of daylight left, we went straight to the beach. It was early March and chilly, but off came his shoes and the chance to touch the water of the Atlantic Ocean.

We explored the oceanfront area by car and went to the school where I work to meet some of the staff.

Back to the house for a big dinner with my family and a friend who hiked the Inca Trail with me. My teenage son was visiting his girfriend in Denmark, so Vidal could sleep in my son’s room. I knew that Vidal would never ask for anything, so I placed a basket of bottled water, granola bars and fresh fruit in his room. Not surprisingly, he never touched it.

I was sitting on the sofa drinking my morning coffee, when Vidal woke up and walked into the room and asked if he could see the water heater. I took him to the workshop area of the house and explained in simple terms how it worked. He wanted to know if hot water was available all the time. I assured him that it was, unless there was a prolonged power failure.

The next day I had planned a party at my house to give my local friends a chance to meet Vidal and talk about travel, culture or anything else. One of my hiking pals brought a special celebratory cake decorated with an Incan head, styled after the design on an Incan pillow cover I provided to the bakery.

Special cake for Vidal Jaquehua

The rest of the week we worked on the computer each evening, creating documents, pamphlets and photos to showcase Adios Adventure Travel at the Adventure Travel Expo in Washington DC.

Vidal paid $3000 to be an exhibitor and this was his chance to go face to face with consumers interested in travel. Neither of us had never done anything like this and it was on my recommendation that he decided to participate. The expense was great for such a small company. I just had a feeling that everything would work out, but honestly, I was going on instincts and nothing else.

One of the women who had hiked the Inca Trail with me, lived in DC and offered us a free place to stay. She and another woman from our hiking trek would join us in the booth at the Expo.

Being at the Expo would be an adventure for all of us.
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Vidal was coming to the US for the first time

Aug 20th 2010

By: Jacquie

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Vidal Jaquehua has guided over 5000 people to Machu Picchu

By the time we came to the end of our women’s trip to Peru in November, the four of us had bonded with each other and with Vidal. We were friends.

As friends, we talked about everything; our personal lives, our businesses, our goals and our dreams. It became apparent to me that Vidal intended to grow his family-run outfit into a much larger business.

That started me thinking of ways to help him. As the 5 of us sat in the airport in Cusco, enjoying our last coffee together, my mind started to churn with ideas about how to do that. All the ideas I threw out, Vidal embraced with enthusiasm. The other women added their ideas and soon we had a cyclonic brainstorming session.

I returned to the US with renewed interest in helping Vidal. The first thing I did was to search for venues for travel conventions. Then we would work on getting Vidal a visa and make arrangements for him to attend the convention in person.

I found a convention in the DC area and emailed the info to him. In between tours he would reply to my emails. Communication was strained because Vidal was only able to communicate when he was near a computer and given that he never scheduled any time off for himself, that meant spotty replies and delays in making reservations and other arrangements.

I used my personal credit card to make payments and he would wire the funds from Peru to repay me. The convention was not cheap and even with the sponsor letter provided by the convention hosts, Vidal was rejected for a US visa on his first, second and even his third try. Each attempt cost him money for flights and expenses to travel to Lima plus the actual fee for the interview.

He did not tell me all this. Not sure why, but he only told me he was rejected at the first visit. He was ready to give up and asked if I would go to the convention alone and represent his business.

I had an idea. I contacted my local congresswoman just to see if there was anything they could do. Her assistant told me that there might be something she could do if I signed an agreement giving her the authority to do so. I signed without hesitation. After signing, it seemed the only thing she could do was offer to submit a letter of introduction to the embassy in Lima.

She wrote it, emailed it to me and I forwarded it on to Vidal. He booked one more interview in Lima and flew down from Cusco. I was on pins and needles waiting for his call to let me know the outcome.

As soon as he called, I could tell by his voice, he had good news. He said, “Miss Jacquie, they treated me like a king.” With only a couple weeks until the show, we had to wait to book his airfare until the visa was completed and returned to him.

Vidal was coming to the US for the first time in his life.
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Vidal rediscovers a lost path to Machu Picchu

Aug 9th 2010

By: Jacquie

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Best Photo Ever Taken of Machu Picchu

So I went back to the mountains whit Marcos, my best friend, and we thought that we can do anything and that we could get anywhere. Both of us whit a lot of experience, but that is how confusing those small trails are.

We start looking for alternative trails to get to Machupicchu.
Well happen that the Machu Picchu National Park has some limit on the number of clients that they allowed to the park so we start looking for a path that we could take whit some clients.
We got a horseman (wrangler) and we lead towards Mollepata and then from there down to Santa Teresa.

Ones someone told me about a place were you could see Machupicchu from the distance and we were looking for this place.
They are a lot of small paths there. Cows paths and small trails that were leading to different places.
So we were in the wrong direction which eventually we took the wrong path.
We end in a small farm and we did try to cross this place
But was impossible, the vegetation was too thick.
and our back packs were too big and we were too tired

There were thick trees, a lot of vines, no trails at all, and when we try to cross it we end in a small clip, so we had to go back.
It was a bit disappointing
There we were, two guides lost in this mountain.

However we had to go bag to the place where the trail was splitting and get on the right trail.
The mountains look very similar, can be tricky.
We were trying to get to a place and we got lost. I think that was very ironic.

We were in the last days so we had little food, enough for one more day.
But after the days your back pack get heavier

There is an strange sensation in your body, because the trails get confusing and you know that you are not going to the right direction.

Ones in the thick vegetation even a small vine or branch makes you afraid.
I remember that when we were on the way back we had to go as fast as we could. A dry branch got on my boots. I thought that was an snake, so I did try to run faster.
But was kind of impossible because we were going down the mountain.
Marco was tizing me for a while but then we just laugh about it.

Happén that I kind of knew the path (I was on that path before)
But that was many years ego and I did tell Marco about it.
We had some maps and we knew more or less where we were going.

The vegetation and the trails can be confusing.
Eventually we made it to the trail and did set up camp late at night.
And then the next morning that we woke up
there it was in front of us
When we open our tent Machupicchu was there between the clouds
So was nice after a small breakfast we went there
Then after we return to Cusco, the people from some companies ask me to lead them there.

So now is open to hikers as the Inca Jungle Trail. You can go there if you like, just give me a call. 757-714-6649
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Vidal Jaquehua – My First Year as a Guide

Aug 1st 2010

By: Jacquie

3 comments
Hiking the Andean Mountains

On those mountains in Peru, a lot of people get lost easily.
I was one of them. I grow up in Cusco and as a child, I played on the trails and in the mountains where I now guide the people. But I did get lost one time.

I think the first year that I was working as a guide, one company ask me to take a group to Machupicchu on the Inca trail
I did accept the group of 4, even though this day we had a lot of rain.
But up on the trail, there was a lot of snow

So I got the wrangler, the people that was looking for to go to Machupicchu and some porters.
The regular trail had too much snow so it was impossible for people or the horses to keep on this trail. We did not have equipment for snow.

Well it was on my hands to tell them we have to go back to Cusco. Happen that if you lead a hike and you go back, there is no refound for the clients, and I did feld sorry for this people to tell them that will not get to Machupicchu, because the storm. I did ask them if they were ok to take a different trail.

So they were jung. If I am not wrong, one of them was a US Marine, so they accept to go in a different trail.
For some reason I thought that I could lead them, so I talk whit the porters and the horsemen if we could take this other trail that some people were mentioning. Some kind of lost trail. So we decite to take them, and eventually we were on the lost jungle trail to Machupicchu.

All the other groups that were there this day went back, but we just pack our staff and we keep going.
So up to the other side of the Salkantay glacier and then down towards a place call Collpapampa.

And from there we lead towards La Playa and from there we went up towards the place call Llacta pata. Back then, they were not that many sedlements, so we found this trail easily.
But the archeological site it was cover whit a lot of vegetation. It was difficult to hike through this place.
How ever the people that we took that time were crying because they had to hike twice the distance that they were planning to hike. At least 12 hours or more each day. 2 and half days we hike in the snow. The temperature was minus 4 celcius.
They were not ready for it so they did some crying.

That time was the first time that I seen it, this lost jungle trail to Machupicchu. The people took 5 days, not 4 to get to Macchupicchu and they did see the place.
I took them to Machupicchu and they were so tired and happy at the same time.

I will continue the rest of this story next time . . ..
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Gateway to Lake Titicaca

Jul 25th 2010

By: Jacquie

5 comments
The city of Puno is a fascinating gateway to Lake Titicaca and offers locally run restaurants and comfortable hotels. Immersion into the local culture is instant. If you don’t speak Spanish, you may find yourself at a disadvantage, but people are friendly and helpful. (Not like you’re in France)

Stepping on to the Floating Reed Islands

After breakfast in the hotel, Vidal had arranged our transport to the boat docks by tricycles. The Andean version of a pedi-cab, we hopped aboard the decorated bikes and wove our way through Puno. The town was alive with local people going about their business in neighborhood markets and on the streets.

We boarded the small 20-passenger boats and went into the cabin to get a seat. We could go up on the top deck any time to enjoy the views and we did this as we approached UROS, the floating reed islands.

These islands are a charming, living example of an ancient conservation technique that uses totora reeds to make livable islands. The islands are completely flat and have no shoreline, so the boat pulls up just like a dock. When you hop off the boat, you land on squishy reeds. That’s the only way to describe it. About 9 ft thick, the Aymara people have perfected the technique and will give a little demonstration how it’s done.

Everything on the island is also made out of the reeds. Their homes, their boats, they even sleep on reed mattresses. We tasted the reeds which reminded me of celery, except not quite as tasty.

The ladies lay out their fabric to display their hand-made wares. Everything from jewelry, pillow covers, carved things, slippers and hand-embroidered wall hangings.

The ladies gather to sing a song and the men pull up to the edge of the island in a reed boat to give you a spin in the water. The whole experience may seem kind of touristy and showy, but not in a Las Vegas kind of way. More like your kid putting on a performance at school.

It’s a way for the people to support themselves. They don’t expect handouts. If tourists were not interested in seeing these islands first-hand, then I’m convinced the resourceful Aymara people would come up with an alternative means of self- supporting, but the world would lose a valuable historica connection to something important. These people are not themepark actors, hired to portray pirates, pioneers or presidents.

They are playing themselves in real life. They seem happy to do this, (although I have to admit I’ve never been included in those heart-to-heart, kitchen-table discussions, where the real thoughts are expressed.)

If the rest of the world wants the indigenous communities do more than just stay alive, but remain intact and viable, we have to do our part. I’m happy to go and visit their world for a few hours.

The next phase of our trip was a 3-hour boat ride to Takile Island, which is located more in the center of Lake Titicaca. The best thing to do is just grab your book or deck of cards, like we did and enjoy the ride on the highest navigable lake in the world.

Vidal is such a good sport. If we want to play cards, then he plays with us. He gives the impression he enjoys our company and he must be used to doing this. This is what he does every day!

Someone made hot coca leaf tea and we rallied an Australian or two (there’s always an Australian around, no matter where you go!) and played shithead for two hours while our boat motored towards Takile Island.
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Life in the sky

Jul 15th 2010

By: Jacquie

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Family in Juliaca, Peru

Can people really live that high up? It’s 12,500 ft above sea level and they’re walking to school and work, going about their business.

Visiting a high altitude destination in the U.S. involves an interaction with nature. Boots and backpacks prepare you for the elements in an outdoors environment. That’s because there are no cities (unless you count Denver at 5000 ft or Breckinridge at 9000 ft above sea level) In South America, (and Tibet) a high-altitude destination can be a city with schools, stores and hotels.

In 1 and 1/2 hours, we literally flew from sea level to 12,500 ft above sea level. I had warned Vidal that we were bringing extra bags of clothing for children. He never seemed to worry about that stuff. He was a “roll with it” kind of guy. I think if we had showed up with 50 bags, he would have somehow gone out to the parking lot in the little tiny Juliaca airport and found a guy with a mule who would have transported them for 5 bucks!

As it was, we were loaded into a luxurious 14 passenger mini-bus. We drove through the busy, gritty streets of Juliaca, which were alive with the mish-mash of remnants of ancient Incan cultures mixed with a little electricity. There were plenty of gas-powered vehicles, but also plenty of low-impact transportation, including bikes, rolling things, (carts, wagons etc.) and people riding motorcycles.

We saw a family of 4 maneuvering through the traffic on a motorcycle with Dad driving, toddler sitting in front of Dad and Mom holding an infant wrapped in a blanket. Car seat! Ha! If you can’t balance your babies while driving a motorcycle, then you don’t deserve to be parents!

The door of the airplane flings open and right away you can tell you feel differently. But it’s not easy to describe. Rather like being awake while you’re dreaming. You can’t put your finger on it. There is something other-worldly and surreal that happens in your head when you go to altitude like that. It’s more than a little head-ache or shortness of breath, which are normal reactions to altitude change. It’s something else that’s always there. I felt as if I was wearing special glasses and viewing the world through them causing a distortion that is hard to describe.

Adaptation to altitude is probably the most discussed topic for people traveling to the mountains of Peru. And with good reason. Most people in the world don’t live above 10,000 ft and rarely get above 5000, unless they live near mountains. If you’ve ever been to Denver, Colorado, also called the “mile-high” city, you can understand why the thought of arriving in a city perched at 11,000 ft above sea level gets your attention.

I figured if we survived our previous trip to 11,000 ft. in March, we would be fine with adding another 1500 ft when we arrived on this trip. I could tell the difference between Cusco at 11,000 and Puno at 12,500. My head felt a little more funky in Puno.

Vidal brought another guide with him, Juan. Oh my God, was he cute! His voice alone was deep, rich and masculine. His English was deliciously sexy with his heavy Spanish accent. And the best part? He had no idea. Dinner was fantastic. Us four girls and Vidal and Juan. We stumbled a bit on our way back to the hotel, stopped at a cambio and a couple of stores to get some of those funny hats. Once back at the hotel, Vidal made sure we had everything for the night, then disappeared.

It was more difficult to sleep. After dinner, we settled into our hotel for the night. I ended up pattering around the halls for part of the night, with my headlamp and my book, looking for a cozy spot to read. I descended the stairs to the main lobby, thinking I could get on the computer. I was surprised to see that all was dark and not only that, the night clerk was sound asleep on the sofa. I sat on the stairs for a while to read, before I reluctantly returned to my room to try again.
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We were High, Really High

Jul 5th 2010

By: Jacquie

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Entering the airport in Juliaca

Not that kind of high! This was a “real” high. The kind that blows your mind in a different way. The kind that makes you more connected with the planet you live on. The kind that makes you wonder how people have survived in so many different environments for centuries.   This was an anthropologist’s dream come true.

I have a confession to make. When I go anywhere, it’s the people I notice the most. I love to find out how they do things. Not just mechanical things. I’m curious about their relationships, their social interactions. How they solve their problems and how they relate to their different natural environments.   Peru was the perfect destination for this kind of observation.

While working towards my degree in (no surprise here!) Cultural Anthropology, I heard stories about anthropologists who would stay with tribes or communities in an effort to document their traditions and cultural practices. One of the most recognized is Margaret Mead, who spotlighted the coming-of-age practices of young people in Samoa. With the rise of feminism, Mead’s writings contributed to a sexual revolution that would forever change the fabric of American culture. The sexual revolution changed everything folks! Who works. How we work. Where we work. Who takes care of the children. What happens to those children while they’re cared for. How we spend our money. How we save. Who gets credit. Who gets jobs.

In 1978, (or maybe 1979?) I was one of 8 women recruited to be a Trooper for the State Highway Patrol for the first time in the history of the state. Women did not do that. They worked in the offices or ran the radios, or at the very most, (according to my father, the cop) they were matrons who searched women’s butts in prisons, but they were not allowed to patrol the streets in uniforms. They were certainly not seen as equals with men.

To me, this is incredibly important stuff. More than looking at the time lines of well-known historical events and analyzing the strategic movements of kings, presidents and renowned leaders, we need to look at the underlying social structures, how societies manipulate natural resources and how they solve problems in order to understand why things happen the way they do.

This is what was going through my rattled, altitude-stricken brain when the door of the plane flung open and the oxygen-deprived air trickled into my lungs in Juliaca. Vidal and a couple of friends were there to greet us and take us to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca.   I immediately kicked into observation mode as I tried to absorb the many sensations that were bombarding my psyche as well as my physical body.
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Preparing to hike the Inca Trail

Jun 29th 2010

By: Jacquie

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In order to plan the next trip, I had to stay in touch with Vidal. I noticed that he would go for weeks and weeks without any time off from his job. He answered emails late at night. Sometimes, he would be offline for days. Usually because he was leading hikes or groups traveling on the islands in Lake Titicaca, where he was off the grid. He was definitely a devoted worker.

The limitation of Vidal’s contact was not a worry to me, but I could see how a potential new client might be inclined to take their business to another tour operator with better availability. When you’re getting ready to stroke a 2 or 3 thousand dollar hole into your checkbook, you should feel confident about the person receiving those funds.

My friends and I started preparing for our high-altitude hike by walking as much as we could in our “no-altitude” beach community. Sometimes, we would walk for 8-9 miles. This was a great opportunity to prepare our feet and footwear, but was a limitation in preparing for hiking to 14,000 feet above sea level.

While I did round-out my exercise routines with regular trips to lift weights in the local gym and attempts to climb hills on treadmills, without the deprivation of oxygen, there was nothing else we could do to train.

Fortunately, there are some things that are better left unknown. I had visited 10,000 ft on Mt. Evans in Colorado, by car. I remember being a little loopy at the top, but the memory was distant and I figured I would work out any adaptation -to-altitude issues after I arrived in Puno. After all, people much older than me visited these destinations and came back alive.

Surely, if tourists to Peru were arriving and dying, we would hear about it, right? That was my premise. Plodding forward and ever the optimist, I just knew it would be fine.

With a few last minute details in place, 4 women arrived in Lima in November of 2007. We were fresh as daisies, ready for our adventure. We also arrived with double the amount of baggage we normally would have taken. Not because we were traveling with a plethora of personal gear, but because we each brought an extra duffle bag full of children’s clothing and shoes to be donated to children in Cusco.

Arrival in Lima, Peru
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Home again, temporarily

Jun 22nd 2010

By: Jacquie

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We jumped right back in to our lives and now we dreamed of our visit to Peru. The crazy things that happened seemed surreal. One thing I knew in my heart was that I would return to Peru. It was just a question of how.

In my mind, I formulated a plan to return. This time I would go with a group of women and we would hike the Inca Trail. I put the word out to my friends and contacted Vidal to get a schedule and a price.

Vidal seemed happy to hear from me and was more than happy to organize another trip for me. This group would be different. All women and we would hike. In addition to hiking, we would visit the highlands and go to Lake Titicaca.

I was never concerned about the elevations. We would go from sea level to 12,500 feet above sea level when we arrived in Lake Titicaca. On the Inca Trail, the altitude would top out at 14,000 ft when we hiked over “Dead Woman’s Pass.” I just wanted to go.

Being in Peru for me, was like going home. I felt comfortable and at ease on the streets of Cusco. I enjoyed the sights and smells of the ancient world mixed with modern elements.

Night view of the center of Cusco

It was more than just traveler’s exhileration.

I discovered a connection to something soulful and meaningful. Not that we don’t have those things in western society, but it seems that each of us searches for ways to make our lives meaningful and I had found mine.
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We Found Ourselves by First Getting Lost

Jun 18th 2010

By: Jacquie

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The world we thought we knew collided with a very different world. Each of us was struggling with the dawning of the rest of our lives. The students and I had been changed, were still changing and would continue to change, even after we left this newly discovered part of the planet. The change was not visible, it was deep inside each of us. Perhaps in a place we just discovered.

You see films and documentaries about these kinds of destinations. We had each starred in our own documentary. You hear the commentary from celebrities and you wonder what it’s like. Did this really happen? It was hard to believe.

Our home in the U.S. seemed like a place at the bottom of well. It was as if we were suddenly lifted to the top of the well and could see all around. It was ironic to me that we would find ourselves by first losing ourselves in a remote corner of the planet.

The families who received the stoves were changed as well. Having a vented cooking space would launch these families into a new era. It was like going from the iron-age to the industrial age in one day.

We hugged and said good

Mountain Mist in Cadmalca, Peru

by forever. Then headed down the treacherous washed-out path to our lodge. From there it would take 3 days to retrace our steps and return to the U.S.

The early morning mountain mist blanketed each of us as we quietly made our way down the path from the lodge to the road where several 4-wheel drive vehicles were waiting. The vehicles formed a caravan back to Chota where we boarded the local bus for the day trip through the mountains and villages to Cajamarca. One more night in the rustic hotel (that looked like a place Hemingway would visit), before we boarded our flight to Lima. Our last night was on the plane and we arrived on U.S. soil early the next morning.

This part of a trip is very important. It’s like passing through the birth canal and entering a new world. Each of us was in his/her own space, attempting to process the experience and the impact on our own life. We were solemn and contemplative.

With plenty of time for reflection while waiting in stations and terminals, each of us set about preparing for re-entry to the hustle of the modern world.
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