Uno in Puno

Recipe for disaster:  Take the 4 most sleep deprived passengers, all of whom are teetering on the edge of a hangover and/or the full blown Sarah virus, and allocate them the task of preparing and serving an on-board picnic on a bumpy little minibus travelling along the curvy mountainous roads which connect Cusco and Puno.  For extra spice, add a dose of equally sleep deprived but even more frazzled CEO, attempting to direct the proceedings.

The end result:  One of the most hilariously enjoyable bus rides of my life.

How it all unfolded:  The first signs we were in trouble came at the morning chopping meeting.  After placing a series of grocery bags on the counter, Andres calls me up and begs for some assistance:  “Please Nessy, you gotta help me here, I don’t know what needs chopping and what needs washing – can you sort that out and let me know.”  In the bags were crackers, dips, grapes, carrots, granadillas, olives and cheeses – it was hardly rocket science.  Admittedly the washing was complicated by the fact that the filtered water was yet to be purchased, and the carrot peeling/chopping was made more challenging by the absurd size and shape of said carrots, but still…

With the carrots chopped, the fruits pre-washed (in contaminated tap water) and the executive decision made that the cheese should be chopped enroute (as we’d otherwise have no way of storing it), we were ready to board the bus.   Not quite ready to go to Puno yet though, as there were about a thousand stops required on the way out of Cusco.  The raved about salami had not been able to be obtained, so other cold meat was required.  As was the bread (it needed to be fresh), and the ice for our fridge (only one shop in the whole city sells it) and the water.   Further stops were then required to raid the pharmacy and to return the trekking poles.  Almost an hour later we were on our way.  Not quite ready for picnicking though – as the chopping board and knives still needed to be purchased from some small town we’d stop at in a couple of hours.  It is hard to say whether or not this was a deliberate decision…..maybe supermarkets in Cusco don’t sell these things?   At least it gave the kitchen staff a couple of hours of guilt-free napping before they would be put to work though.

Time seemed to fly and before we knew it we were stopping at the town for toilets and chopping boards – the latter able to be purchased from some random store in a little alley that was jam-packed full of everything you’d ever need (and tonnes of things you wouldn’t).  Now that we had all the tools and equipment, Andres came to the “kitchen” at the back of the bus to attempt to provide some instructions.  We nauseously listened to his concept of continuous job rotation (which apparently also required physical seat rotation) before Kel shut it down.  “Look” she said, “I’m happy to sit here chopping until the cows come home, but I aint doing any of this seat swapping sh!t”.   Agreement was unanimous – instead of job diversification, the day called for specialisation.  Kel was Head of the Brains & Knives department (or “B&D” according to Andres) – basically she was in charge of all the thinking and cutting owing to her superior mental faculties demonstrated moments earlier, and her years of gourmet sandwich shop experience, Sarah was Head of Plastics – anything that was plastic or wrapped in plastic that needed to be opened or held could be done by Sarah and only Sarah, Christiane was Head of Customer Experience – poor girl drew the short straw by sitting one row in front of the kitchen so was instantly designated the waitress for the day, I was to be Head of Plating- basically divvying up and making Kellie’s chopped stuff look pretty before it went to Christiane for service, and Andres…. Well I don’t really know what Andres role was.  I suppose you could call him Management.

Management fooling around with our inspirational poster..

First up we needed to work out the menu, or more specifically, in what order we were going to attempt to serve up the random selection of food.  It’s not like we had the luxury of a big table to put everything on for people to just graze over after all.  After some crazy suggestions, the order was determined to be: an appetiser of carrots and dips, followed by a main of mini ham rolls and olives accompanied by a choice of beers or juices, followed (after a decent interval) by a desert of cheese, crackers, grapes and wine, before finishing up with a self-purchased supper of coffee and chocolate.  Granadillas were available for the taking at any time.  My (Bus) Kitchen Rules – eat your heart out.

The next task that required some rather complex thought was how to wash the fruit and knives.  We had a very awkward 7 litre bottle of water, a super bumpy road and a couple of plastic bags that we weren’t sure whether or not had holes in them.  After much discussion about which was the washing bag, which was the emergency bag, and what our contingency plans were, Andres began the pour whilst I nervously held the bag – miraculously it didn’t leak and perhaps even more amazingly it didn’t even spill when the bus jerked and Andres practically fell on top of us, so after a bit of jiggling about for extra cleanliness, the bag was passed over to Head of Plastics for disposal (out the window) of the now dirty water.  I still can’t believe it actually worked and we didn’t spill anything.

The washing achievements turned out to be a good omen for the rest of the restaurant’s performance too.  Incredibly (taking into account both the workers and the working conditions) plate after plate was served up without much of a hitch, and the delight of the patrons echoed all the way to the back of the bus.  Well, there might have been just a few expletives uttered from the sickies in the front of the bus when they were offered course after course of dry crackers – no-one said customer service was easy Christiane.  No-one said pouring wine on a bus was easy either – but she did an absolutely sterling job of that.  In fact, everything was going perfectly until there was an incident surrounding an organic inorganic waste mix-up and the Head of Plastics was promptly fired, with Management assuming a position in the kitchen.  Attempting to put himself on the same level as the workers, Andres excitedly offered to assist with the cheese chopping.   Let’s just say the C in CEO does not stand for cheese though.  The massacre that followed was only made more humourous by his enquiry as to whether the massive “fingers” of cheese were potentially a little too big – and upon unanimous confirmation that they were, his proceeding to “cut” the rest of the block in exactly the same manner.  As Head of Plating I certainly had my work cut out making this look pretty – the only workable strategy being to attempt to hide it under Kellie’s nice cheese.  It definitely all tasted good though!  Meat, bread, cheese, olives and wine – I was in heaven.  Better still, once that course was out, the kitchen staff were free to kick back and enjoy it themselves, free from the pressures of further service.

Getting closer..

Round and round the wheels on the bus went, until CLUNK, scrape, rattle, rattle WTF was that? “PARE Signor!!”  We slowly wobbled to a stop on the side of the busy road whilst the driver & Andres jumped out so he could come back on-board and state the obvious – we had a flat.  The not so obvious next words were that it was only an inside tyre so didn’t really matter all that much – and we’d need to drive on it for at least an hour until we got to the next town with a tyre guy anyway.  Our seats were directly above the flat and it did not feel or sound good – more wine please!! Somehow we managed to make it to the town of Juliaca where we realised getting the tyre fixed might be the least of our concerns here.  Anyone needing to go to the toilet was advised to leave their shoes on the bus – else they might be stolen from their feet.  Whilst it might have been a slightly tongue in cheek warning, none of us were desperate enough to test it out.

After a long but entertaining travel day, we eventually got in to Puno around 7pm.  Everyone was pretty tired, so both the Uno in Puno and the much talked about karaoke were going have to wait.  About all we could muster up the energy for was a nice dinner and some Peru pin purchasing – an important accessory for the next day which was National Day.  We then tucked into bed early as we had another big day ahead of us.

The next morning we were told our limousines would be arriving at 7:30 to take us to the port for our boat trip exploring the islands on Lake Titicaca.  The limos turned out to be the 2 seater pedal powered variety – but you’ve never seen a happier group of kids jump into their chariots and proceed to pressure their drivers into racing them.  Commonwealth Gold was at stake after all… and I’m pleased to report the Aussies came in 1, 2 (and tipped their hyperventilating drivers accordingly).

After about an hour on the boat we came to Uros island – floating about on the surface of the lake and made entirely of reeds.  It looked like something out of a fairy tale. What an incredibly simple life the 6 colourfully clad families who lived here must lead.  We took some time learning a bit about their history and culture and the fish they survive on (though I’ve now heard conflicting reports as to where the trout actually comes from) and then it was time for a relaxing gondola ride amongst the neighbouring reeds, before boarding the boat again – this time bound for Taquile island.

 

On Taquile island we learnt some more about the legend of the lake (something about a puma) and went for a nice walk to where the weavers were.  The island is actually UNESCO recognised for their weaving abilities (mostly done by the men) and there was plenty of fun facts to be shared about how to spot a single guy Vs one who was not married but in love Vs the married ones.  It’s all in the hat it seems.  I really think such a concept would work wonders in Sydney! We then had time for a spot of shopping before a bit more of a walk to get to the beach.  With a water temp of about 8 degrees though, I wasn’t about to jump in – nor was I taking my fleece off for any sun-baking.  Kel did make the obligatory sandcastle so we could tick off beach activities though, then we were keen to get back on the boat as the next stop was a lunch one – and we’d built up quite the appetite by this stage.

 

 

Lunch certainly was a treat.  Cooked by an in-ground “oven”, we watched in awe as the family pulled layer upon layer of food out of the earth.  There was chicken, trout, potatoes, sweet potatoes, beans, bananas and no doubt countless other ingredients that I’ve now forgotten.  A feast fit for a king and we wasted no time devouring it! The windowless lake-front view was pretty special too.   After we’d said our thankyous and goodbyes, it was boat time again – and the 3 hour ride back to Puno had siesta written all over it.

Arriving back at the hotel, we had a little free time before it was PUNO time.  A special version of Uno that is only played when in Puno.  As luck would have it we also had some left over wine and cheese for the occasion.   People took to the new rules like ducks to the water (it really wasn’t all that hard to remember to say Puno instead of Uno) and everything was going swimmingly until it was Andres’ deal.  Actually “deal” is a bit generous – “haphazard allocation of cards” was probably a more fitting description.  The purists yelled out in horror.  The guy would have been shot had he pulled out these antics in a casino.  But we decided to let it slide and play the hand anyway – (almost) anything goes in Puno.  What followed however, was even more shocking than the deal.  Andres winning the game in record time – ably assisted by his 5 wild cards!!! What the?  He claims he couldn’t have done it if he tried – but I maintain the guy is actually a magician just moonlighting as a tour leader.  That is surely the only logical explanation for what we had just witnessed.

What it looks like when Andres doesn’t deal..

Bamboozled by Puno it was time to head out for dinner.  Nice as it was, I decided I’d had my fill of Peruvian fare for the time being, so opted for a woodfired pizza instead.  It was rather tasty, though somewhat small, so I gratefully accepted the offer of Kel’s leftovers after I’d polished off my own meal.  As the day wore on, most of us were feeling more and more under the weather (the altitude really wasn’t helping with the Sarah virus) but we also knew it was our last chance to attempt the much talked about Karaoke session.  One by one members of the group made their excuses and said their goodnights, until all that remained was Andres and the 4 sick youngsters.  Ok ok we’ll do one song each we conceded – and when I say we, I was not including myself in this.  This was going to be far from a long enough or boozy enough session to warrant my contribution – though I would gladly attend for moral support and to help find a suitable duet for Kel and Andres to perform.

It’s always interesting to see how different countries do their karaoke in any event.  The Peru (or at least Puno) version is a bar with a series of couches set up around multiple TV screens. Basically you just sit with your own friends around a table, but everyone has the “pleasure” of hearing (though not necessarily seeing) everyone else singing.  Other than the altitude and sore throats, our first hurdle appeared to be the fact that almost the entire song book was in Spanish – I suppose we should have guessed this might have been the case.  They did have an English section at the back though – only trouble was it was like reading off a list of B sides – they had a lot of the big names – including a “Jhon Lennon”, but almost none of the big songs.

Karaoke Fun

Eventually Christiane chose Smells like Teen Spirit (but left Andres to sing it – with plenty of spirit I might add), Sarah lost her Karaoke virginity with Eye of the Tiger (tough song at altitude) – and backed this up with a rendition of “Hit me baby one more time” that almost brought the house down.  This just left one performance before we could all call it a night.  We still needed the Andres and Kel duet – and about the only choice available was Lionel and Diana’s Endless Love.  Trouble was Andres wasn’t hugely familiar with it.  Not to be deterred by such a minor issue as not knowing the song, he borrowed an ipod and shot out into the street to practice for a while.  And what a special performance it was when he did come back.  Now we could go home to bed.  Well the home part happened in any event – apparently bed wasn’t quite on the cards until some more Endless Love song practice could be done.  They were determined to nail it – for some unknown future performance I suppose.  Kel and Andres sat there on the edge of the bed, teacher and student, pen poised, hands conducting the tone…. While I was kept busy recording the hilarity.  The footage is almost as good as Kel’s secret footage from earlier in the evening – when Andres was telling us about his work as a child model.  Puno really did deal us some funny cards.