Returning to Cusco feels like coming home. We took an all night bus ride that started off fine- the seats tilted far back, the driver was reasonable, the kids fell asleep, and I had my cozy sleeping bag to snuggle. At 1:30 AM I was jostled awake and felt like we were hurling downhill. In the front of the bus there was an LCD screen and instead of broadcasting the time and temperature it was a blinking Kilometros Maximos, Kilometros Maximos! I was instantly wide awake and madly checked the seat belts of my kids. My broken seat belt which had previously seemed inconvenient, suddenly seemed like a death sentence. I pulled my seat belt out as far as it would go and tied it in a large knot around the arm rest. Damned if I was going to be thrown from a crashing bus, instead I would be the one they couldn’t extricate. I slept only fitfully the rest of the night and thought a lot about death (traveling has a way of doing that to you). When we got off the bus in Cusco I realized that we had a different driver (a young speed junky). As a mother this is the hardest part of traveling. My kids are so dependent on me and in turn sometimes I am dependent on careless people.
The Uros floating islands, Lake Titicaca
ooooohhh, that one struck a cord! We had that same experience in Peru. A family member cautioned us about not taking planes in Peru, but no one mentioned buses hurtling down mountainsides driven by maniacs. An experience never to be forgotten! Glad you all made it safely! Merry
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