"Z" is for Zebra and Zither...of which we saw nither.

When I woke up this morning I was sadly aware of how my holiday days were dwindling rapidly. It was like a whole bunch of mini-holidays wrapped up in Peruvian paper, but at least I still have one more exciting package to open....Lake Titicaca (giggle, giggle....do we ever fully grow up?)

I was up early, for a final wander around the grounds and one last coffee with condensed milk in it, which always sort of coats my teeth and makes them feel grittiy and results in more toothbrush work. I am seriously looking forward to a good cup of coffee with.....dare I dream? Real cream!

We said our goodbyes to the staff, and of course handed over the obligatory envelope of tip money, after which you know that the staff instantly forget your name and clear their minds for the next group, but oh well, that's the way the system works.

We climbed into our boat for a final cruise....out of the amazon rainforest. Man, what an experience that was.

This sign? I had no problem obeying this sign.

This one? Not so much, but only because I wasn't sure what it said. I assumed it had something to do with cleaning your shoes/feet before you entered your cabin.

So, bye- bye land of strange, clingy vines...

And strange, creepy fruit.....

My last view of the river, in all it's chocolate-coffee coloured glory.

We had to stop at a checkpoint, just to make sure that we were all legal to either be there, or to leave I suppose, and guess what? We got a passport stamp! Hooray! It's little things like that that I get a huge kick out of.

So I guess that means I've officially left....

We continued down the river until we got to a strange little spot where we climbed out of the boat and waited for a bus to take us back to Puerto Maldonado. I call it a strange spot because there was a washroom and a tiny store. The store had virtually no items in it, except a few candy type items, some Inca Cola and, oddly enough, Halls cough drops. The store beside it had 12 or 13 dusty souvenir Tshirts.

 "Shopping Mall"

We hopped into our waiting van and instantly came across a washed out road that was being repaired. It was from the rains that occurred the day we arrived in Puerto Maldonado, the day our plane had been turned back. We didn't have to wait long, but we did have to cross the most rickety and narrow bridge I have ever seen. It was the bridge that you read about when tourists die in third world country bus accidents. That bridge.

The muddy area...who knew that worse was to come?

Although, it wasn't that bad in retrospect, I think the drivers are used to it, and we did arrive back in Puerto Maldonado safe and sound.

We drove to a nicer part of town than we had seen last time and went to a surprisingly nice restaurant. From the looks of the city, it wouldn't seem like there was anywhere decent (read: safe) to eat, but this place was really quite amazing. I do have to say, though, that yes, the food looks wonderful, and yes, it tasted spectacular, but tough? I think my chicken ran there all the way from Cusco. That was one muscular chicken. ( it's under the rice in the banana leaf, and after I tried to chew some of the meat, I tucked it tidily back under the leaf, and ate the rice instead.)

But, I do have to admit, it was  a treat to have a reasonably fancy meal in a clean (read: no muddy jungle boots) place.

It was not only safe to eat, but safe to be during an earthquake, apparently.

It was a beautiful view from the restaurant, you'd never know it was not only in the midst of a city, but a pretty poor and sad looking city as well.

We had a bit of time for a small walk, and then headed to the airport for our final trip back to Cusco.

The outside of the restaurant.

Wandering towards the town square, nearly everyone rides a motorcycle, gas is very pricey here, plus with the roads always being washed out, bikes are easier to maneuver around.

Back at the airport.

Bye-bye jungle...I'm gonna miss you.

Hellooooooooo Cusco, and the Prisma Hotel yet again. The best part about coming "home" to our hotel? The lady who waited for us and did our laundry....whooo-hoooo....clean and non-muddy, non-sweaty, non-musty, non-damp clothes will be mine in a few hours!

This woman was employed by Sweet Eddy ( I haven't mentioned Sweet Eddy lately...he hates the jungle, he's a city boy and while he did come with us on our jungle adventures, he was not thrilled to be there, the hates the heat, the mosquitoes, the being away from the bright lights...he spent his time sneaking up us with a long blade of grass, tickling our necks and legs to make us shriek and swear with the fear that jungle critters were upon us.)

Anyhow, this lady, an older woman, waited in the hotel lobby every day and we could bring her our laundry and for a nominal fee, she would return it a few hours later...smelling sweet and fresh and folded perfectly. I was going to toss my jungle socks in the garbage, but I didn't have extras, so I figured I'd at least get them washed and dried, and good god, they came back sparkling. 

This was: long pants, two pair of short pants, undies, bra, sox, neck scarf, long sleeved shirt, two short sleeved shirts and a pair of capris that I had left in my luggage prior to the jungle. Cost? About $7 and worth three times that much. In Ollantaytambo, they hung the laundry on a eucalyptus tree/shrub and the heat just seemed to bake the smell in...it was so delectable that one of our fellows had us leaning over and sniffing him every time we walked by him. This was almost that good.

So it was time to put on some fresh, clean clothes and head out for a final day in Cusco, which was by now beginning to feel very familiar. And when I start to find my way around and not get lost, then you know I'm in a comfortable spot.

I have a shameful confession to make. As I wandered the streets of this marvelous city, I spotted a sign. I tried to walk away....really, I really tried. But I found myself drawn to a sort of courtyard, and not only that....I was drawn up a flight of stairs.....

I tried to go the other way, ohh, how I tried. But the smell....the smell.....it beckoned me, it tantalized me...it called my name.....and sadly, I have to admit, I let her coax me in. And I stayed....and now you know my shameful secret....and I loved every sip...so much so, that within seconds...I had seconds.

I was so disgusted with myself that I went here :

Not to repent...I don't roll that way, but simply to burn off some of the caffeine and Starbucks shame. It's like when you are trying to lose weight or quit smoking and you stuff yourself full of candy, or smoke that one last dried cigarette that you find in a coat pocket and then you have that sense of shame and disgust. It was a Starbucks hangover. With lemon cake, no less.

It was one huge cathedral.

As I briskly walked the city streets, caffeine pumping through the veins, I spotted another old nemesis, however there was no way that this one was seducing me...truthfully, this temptress didnt smell so seductive and I had no problem boycotting, oops, I mean not patronizing this place, but I did pop in to check out the menu. I always find it fun to see what little differences as well as similarities there are.

But that's ok...I can turn the corner and see sights like this:

And I can stop into the corner market and see veggies like this:

And fruits like these :

And that's why I came to Peru, to see new and different sights, and to experience a new culture and to fill my mind with new memories. And tomorrow I'll be starting a whole new adventure...the Altiplano, the city of Puno, Lake Titicaca and the floating  islands of Uros.

So I headed back for one final night at the Prisma Hotel and one final dinner, the cheesiest, gooiest, yummiest cheese pizza and a frothy, freshly squeezed lemonade.

After eating all this rich food, it's a little disconcerting to see signs like this:

Oh Cusco, I'm gonna miss you too.