Day 43 - Arequipa and onwards to Puno.

I really like the city and wish I had more time here. I’m getting adept at dodging the fleets of little yellow taxi colectivos that zoom up the streets: pedestrian crossings do not give you right of way, and neither do pedestrian traffic lights. I observe, puzzled, how the little cars pay no attention to the latter, though they do obey the sharp whistles of the traffic police. It’s a good thing that most streets are one-way! It reminds me of how people drive in Cairo – chaos on the surface, but somehow everyone figures out whose right of way it is and no one gets hurt. When Heather, Dawn and I were in a taxi in Cairo, they observed our driver’s manoeuvres with trepidation: “Watch out for the wing mirrors! Oh, wait, there aren’t any. (They’d been knocked off way before).”

I dodge the traffic all the way up Bolognesi, across the bridge over the Río Chili and up to the Recoleta monastery. There’s no one at the ticket desk, and no amount of coughing loudly gets any attention. The security guard helps me, rapping hard on the massive wooden doors and shouting, and finally I’m let in. This really is a lovely place to visit – the three cloisters are just beautiful. The first has a cactus garden in the middle, while the biggest one is filled with exuberant vegetation, including large pink flowers. The best thing, though, are the random exhibits in the various darkened halls. The Amazon hall is fantastic – the walls are decorated with maps of the missionaries’ exploration of Peru, including the Peruvian Amazon basin, where I’ll be heading in a couple of days. I like how the inscription on the Amazon part states: “Large and mysterious forest filled with fearsome tribes.”

They brought back animal trophies; the taxidermied creatures are arranged carefully according to whether they’re mammals, birds, reptiles or fish, and I study them carefully, because I hope to be seeing most of them soon. The most impressive are the vividly-coloured cock-of-the-rock birds, the giant anteater, the caiman, and an evil-looking pygmy monkey.

The other hall devoted to the Amazon contains tribal clothing; necklaces made of seeds, shells, teeth; weapons including bamboo spears with a different type of wood for the serrated tip, capes decorated with bright feathers; ceramics, ceremonial drums. Equally good is the pre-Columbian hall, with its collection of pre-Inca pottery, a deformed skull and a couple of mummies, sitting huddled in their display cases.

Am surprised that a couple of the guides (not the Rough Guide) suggest taking a cab here, when it’s only ten minutes’ walk from the centre. Bloody laziness.

Lunch is a real treat; a few days ago, I made reservations at “La Trattoria del Monasterio”, one of Gastón Acurio’s places. ‘Italian food with Areqipeño influences’ is what they call it, and as it turns out, lunchtimes are not too busy. The service is great, the beef capaccio with cheese and a spicy salsa is superb, and so is the rice with super-fresh giant prawns.

The afternoon is spent looking at hostels. Roosebelt recommended Amazing Home, just north of the centre on a quiet little plaza, and it turns out to be excellent. The owner, Alex, is a trekking guide; he showed me around ever so graciously, and even asked me what I thought of the place and what improvements he could make. The biggest vote in his favour was the testimony of a large crowd of American backpackers: “It’s the best hostel I’ve ever stayed in!” piped up one of the girls. Definitely one for the gringos, but a great choice at that. One of the hostel owners complains about the useless/malicious taxi drivers at the bus station, who mislead guests by telling them that the hostel is closed/dirty/expensive, and trying to persuade them to go stay elsewhere. Will mention that in the guide.

I’d had enough of having long hair, so I take my chances with a Peruvian hairdresser. Remembering the disaster in Mexico, I explain to the woman with a gold tooth that I normally have my hair cut like a boy and she shows me some pictures. She does a really good, thorough job, though I get a little alarmed when she whips out an old-fashioned razor used by barbers to tidy up the back of my neck. What price beauty? 15 soles (just over £3).

Try El Turko for dinner because am not quite in the mood for guinea pig – will have that in Cusco. El Turko’s always popular, with locals and tourists, and it’s nice enough, though the chicken doner kebab is dry, the honey on the baklava is watery and the staff harried. Hmm.

Have had some good news about a contra ad regarding one of the jungle lodges near Puerto Maldonado; now to sort out a flight…