Cusco is a small city of large pleasures. Women on the street entice you in for a full body massage, pedicure, manicure, a 3 course meals can be had for 8 sol, bars and clubs perch on the top of winding alleys, alive at night over looking a brilliant minefield of twinkling lights cascading down the hill and into the main square. An exaggerated reflection of the night sky glittering above.
It is a city that will suck you in, drip feeding you culture, music and drink until you are dizzy with excess. At a height of over 3000metres it is a dangerous place to party, and yet it is almost impossible to resist.
In places like these you drink first and think later and I can tell you the afterthought is a painful one. I spent an entire day of my life in bed the day after arriving in the town. I only moved to the bathroom and back in a nauseated haze of self pity. I actually remember thinking the words I miss my mum, which I do, but in this case I was reduced to a pathetic morsel of a human being aching for the warmth of home comforts. No amount of mate de coca was going to bring me back from this circle of hell.
It took a few days for me to acclimatise and stop feeling like a shell of myself. The alcohol had all but drained out of me when I decided with nothing better to do that I´d visit the local tattoo parlor. I stopped short of the tattoo but settled on the piercing i´d wanted for a while. A while being many years, I´m not sure why I chose Peru finally, not known for its outstanding levels of hygiene or english speaking patrons, I guess when the time is right the time is right and I was tired of buying colourful memories to adorn my wrists and hair.
I spent but a few days in the city but managed to gather experiences high and low. Sitting in an intimate corner bar on a Monday night next to a sausage dog named whiskey I listen to three rockstars pound out 4 minute triumphs from years past. Long dark hair covering deep brown eyes, a cigarette held between the fourth and firth burning down to ash as a hand emphatically takes to the stings. I couldn´t paint a greater image than the smokey mismatched trio, dreads, waves, flairs, leather cool.
And I wonder why I expect anything to be different from you. You don´t owe me anything, but maybe just for one day it would be nice to pretend.
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