Cusco Travel Blog› entry 46 of 93 › view all entries
We were back in Cusco after an excellent four days on the inca trail, and still slightly scarred from the train journey, headed to the Paddy Flaherty's (allegedly the highest Irish-owned bar in the world) for dinner and to see who could complete the 24 hour challenge. Having woken up at 4am that morning, the rules were pretty simple, stay out til 4am the folowing morning. It was Friday night too, so it should be easy, right?
Well, no. There were some early flakers on the train, a couple more had a snooze at the hostel and by the time 10pm came only Matt, Maria, Sarah and I were left, and feeling completely shattered. We met a couple of Brits and soon enough had our drinking heads back on. Our new friends took us to Ukuku's; a club with some pretty good music and we danced away the next few hours.
The next day began with lunch in the Real McCoy and then some shopping. It was Matt's birthday and we were on a jungle theme, which quickly turned into Rambo for the boys and Amazonians for the girls. So off I went in search of a vest-top ('manga cerra' I quickly learned), face-paint and some toy guns. As hard as I tried, not a single kids toy shop exists in central cusco and my attempts at explaining, in Spanish, "tonight, I am Rambo!" nobody seemed to understand. It seems there's an untapped market in Peru for Sly. Anywayby the time I'd learned vocab for bullets and guns all the shops were closed. Luckily, some of the girls had been to an out-of-towner and got a job-lot of army stuff.
We set about the beers and threw cake at Matt (which is now legendary on south american gap tours, allegedley) before heading to Mythology around midnight. Judging by the look on the faces of the guys in the club, fancy dress isn't something done often in Cusco. It all went downhill from there, and it wasn't long before Em, Dani and Amy were on the bar dancing, with Matt joining them and giving them a bit of an eyeful! Our outfits must have been convincing enough, as an Israeli tourist came over and pointed out to me that I wasn't holding my 'machine gun' correctly, and proceeded to show me the way forward. He didn't look too amused when I reminded him that it was a toy.
Predictable hangovers were on the menu on sunday morning, as well as fry-ups in the Real McCoy. We did some final hassler-dodging and some No Gracias-ing before packing up and heading for our flight to Arequipa.