Let me tell you this. When we got back from Machu Picchu, all we wanted to do was go home. But we were stuck in Cusco/Cuzco for three more days and had to make the best of it.

The town of Cusco could not decide on a correct spelling for it’s town, as random street signs could attest to.

Of all the cities visited, Cusco was definitely the most quaint, offered the most shopping and definitely the most restaurant options. A factor Bun Boy can definitely appreciate.

We walked around town for a bit, trying not to get hit by a car and trying not to hit people asking us if we wanted “Massage? Massage?”

Here, we witnessed a minor protest. A.K. told his girlfriend he wished to join the Revolucion!

There obviously must be no such thing as patents or trademarks!…I’ve actually already emailed this to Yahoo…

We bought most of our crap to bring home in Cusco. “You promise you come back?”

That evening we were taken to an Alpaca factory.

Not where they breed Alpaca’s but where you can buy authentic Alpaca clothing without wondering if the items are fake. (I still think they are, I trust no one!)

We all bought a bunch of stuff for Christmas presents (we kind of had to) and kept being told by the salespeople “The owner up front will give you good discount!”

When I went up to the woman at the front behind the register, I was promptly told “No discount for credit cards”, which was my sole monetary possibility.

So, I railed into her with a combination of Spanish and British profanities, took my overprices Alpaca scarves and hung myself with one of them.

Where the hell did that come from?…

Our final dinner with the group was at this hip steakhouse called Fallen Angel. It could easily have been relocated to Los Angeles, although it was neither crowded nor pretentious, so never mind.

http://www.fallenangelincusco.com/

Our tables consisted of bathtubs filled with fish!

I had a really awesome steak with this really AWFUL rancid spicy pepper dipping sauce. I didn’t think it was so awful at the time but now I really despise that flavor.

I just feel bad that people will stop coming to the restaurant because of my scathing review. I really need to get a handle on the immense power Bun Boy possesses. Such influence is a gift that I sometimes abuse.

We spent the next few days either watching Seinfeld, Friends or the New Adventures of Old Christine (the Whitest shows on earth) on our 3 by 4 inch TV in either one of our hotel rooms just to pass the time.

When we were not there, or in the basement cafeteria eating our free breakfast each morning (Dos Huevos, por favor) we were at Paddys!

I had two amazing meals there.

The Cottage Pie:

And some Steak and Coleslaw sandwich. I can’t believe how good this was…drool…drool…

We sat in the Irish pub for hours and hours, watching the toy train go around and around, trying to interpret the international soccer games and drinking Cusquena’s.

“World Cup? Someone put on Football! Who cares about the World Cup??” Captain shouted, not realizing the pub was filled with residents from the UK.

“Uh, the World?”, someone replied.

Our final dinner was horrific. The food sucked (my milkshake was warm, quite a feat) and we were accosted by a merry band of Peruvian musicians playing for us endless tunes of Incan suffering.

We definitely felt their suffering. Especially as we were forced to tip them to make them go away.

No pictures were taken to capture any of this.

At the airport, we realized our flight was cancelled.

We were already cranky and sick of each other. Everyone waited in different lines to get on the next flight otherwise we would have to wait another full day!

Billy snapped at me, Captain snapped at Billy. We just wanted to be home already.

No more Peruvian money to deal with, no more hearing the words: “Alpaca, Inca, Machu Picchu, Massage, You want to buy? I give you good price”

Well, we’re home!

It’s been a week. I don’t miss Peru, but the memory of the Inca Trail and seeing MP (I will NOT write that word out again) is still resonating strongly with me.

It was an awesome, unforgettable trip.

Where should I go next?

Somewhere with much better food, hopefully. After all, this IS Bun Boy!