Cabo San Lucas, or My Kingdom for an Accessible Room

I used to go to Mexico every year with my mom, but then it got less safe so for the past several years we’ve chosen domestic destinations. I miss Mexico. I love exploring, speaking Spanish, eating, basking in the sun…. So, when the opportunity arose to go on vacation with my boyfriend, Tony, I immediately thought of Mexico. We were both longing to escape Winter in Seattle (cold and dark) and he had a new passport burning a hole in his pocket. Since we didn’t have much time, I figured Cabo would be a good choice – not too far, beautiful weather and pretty touristy. I can be a bit of a travel snob and when foreign menus list prices in dollars it is annoying… however, when your goal is relaxing and reconnecting with the sun it isn’t crucial to be in authentic Mexico. Besides, traveling with a chick in a chair is pretty challenging, so I figured I’d ease Tony in. I made the assumption that as a huge tourist destination and cruise ship port, Cabo would be pretty accessible… sadly, not the case. For that reason, while MUCH more went right than wrong on our trip, I have some things to figure out before returning there.

Once we chose Cabo, we booked our flights. Flights cost more than I’d anticipated, but our dates weren’t flexible so we had to take what we could get. I did make two decisions that turned out to be excellent ones: #1 On the flight down, we changed planes in San Diego, which is a small airport and way easier to navigate than, say, LAX; and #2 I paid a little more for a nonstop return flight. I thought it would be nice to fly straight home, which of course it was, but I’d forgotten that you have to go through Customs wherever you land first, so we didn’t have to do that until Seattle. Sweet!

Then, it was time to book a hotel. This is where things got a little frustrating. I had a hotel in mind (Hotel Finisterra), and they were even running a sale but… come to find out, none of their rooms are accessible. I searched on http://www.tripadvisor.com/ and http://www.hotels.com/, e-mailed several hotels and called others… and I couldn’t find a hotel with an accessible room for under $350/night! Ridiculous. Unlike the rest of the universe, I can’t use bidding websites like Priceline.com because there is no way to determine accessibility before paying. So I kept looking, and maybe panicking a little, and my mental pricepoint kept inching up… finally, I found a room at the Pueblo Bonito Rosé, a resort right on the beach. It was pricey but I got a good deal and it wasn’t going to bankrupt us. I took care to call them directly to ensure the accessible room and I exchanged several e-mails so I got the guarantee in writing.

For the rest of the trip: I got a steal on an airport shuttle through Cabo Transfers (http://caboairporttransfers.com/), researched restaurants (Trapper’s List, http://trapperscabolist.com/, is really good) and read up on Cabo and suggestions from fellow travelers (http://www.tripadvisor.com/ has a wealth of information).

I found several disability-specific websites:

http://www.cabowaterlimos.com/, or Deliro Water Limos, which run accessible boats for whale-watching, sunset cruises, etc. (I was super excited about this one, but they did not respond to my e-mails and we couldn’t locate them  in Cabo. I assume they are defunct.)

http://cabomobility.com/, for accessible airport transportation and equipment rental (I contacted them for an airport transportation quote and for advice on where to get a beach wheelchair. After four e-mails they responded “Unfortunately we cannot provide the service.” Sigh.)

http://abilitytrip.com/, which has a Cabo page with some general travel access info. (Interesting but brief and not super-informative.)

http://www.bajaenterprises.com/index.html, an accessible sport fishing company (I didn’t contact them.)

http://www.specialneedsatsea.com/, a company who does equipment rental across the globe (I thought about contacting them re: a beach wheelchair rental but I never did.)

As you can see, not an overly successful web search.

And then, finally, departure day had arrived! The trip down was pretty uneventful – one of  my wheelchair brakes did get bent on the trip to and/or from the luggage compartment, but Tony managed to bend it back. Once in Cabo, we exchanged $40 at the rip-off airport currency exchange (they gave 10.24 when the actual rate was more like 12.5) to give us a few pesos to start with. We found our shuttle driver easily, and he even let me sit up front in the van which is easier than trying to navigate the back. 45 minutes later, we were at the Pueblo Bonito Rosé.

Check-in went quite smoothly until… as we were being handed our key, I nonchalantly said, “that’s the wheelchair room?” Without missing a beat, the clerk told us there were no such rooms available. Uh-oh. We showed her the e-mails I had exchanged with the hotel guaranteeing me a “handicap” room. We were then told there would be an appropriate room on Monday (in two days) but that we would need to stay in the other room until then. The clerk was polite, but I do not think she understood my distress until I said, “how am I going to go to the bathroom until then?” Finally, it seemed to dawn on her that we really needed an accessible room. After looking again at the e-mails, and discussing the situation with her colleagues (in Spanish, which I’m sure she thought I couldn’t understand), she announced that she was moving us next door to the Pueblo Bonito Blanco, where there was a disability room available. The new room was fine, and it was accessible. However, there was no roll-in shower (which I don’t critically need but it was one of the things I was promised) and the Rosé is more wheelchair-friendly in some aspects. I’m just glad I had everything in writing, or I suspect they would not have offered to move us, even though the other room was just sitting vacant!

Since returning, I have contacted the hotel to discuss the situation, but I have not received a response as yet. So I can tell you that Room 105 at the PB Blanco is accessible, with a lowered peephole, lowered hangers, grab bar by the toilet and grab bars in the bathtub/shower, and that the beds (2 doubles)  are tall and you will need a companion to reach the thermostat and the dishes in the kitchenette (which are stored in high cabinets), but I cannot tell you how to safely book it.   On my next trip to Cabo, I will probably stay elsewhere, where I can be sure to get the right room (although I am not sure what more I could have done). Besides, one of the great things about most of the PB hotels is that they are right on the beach, but since we had no view or beach wheelchair, we couldn’t take advantage of this (Tony walked on the beach a few times but the beach is public, so I suppose he could have done this anyway).

So, moving on… on the bright side, since we had an outside entrance at the Blanco (at the Rosé you go in through the lobby), we didn’t have to deal with any time share nonsense. Bonus! And the Blanco has flamingos.

General accessibility/travel tips for Cabo:

We weren’t far from town, although the roads weren’t particularly good getting there and everything takes longer with a wheelchair. Be prepared for some dirt roads and potholes, and wheeling in the street when necessary. We didn’t take taxis although perhaps the first night when we had groceries a taxi would have been smart. There are inconsistent curb cuts in Cabo, and many restaurants have stairs but if you look around you are likely to find steep, narrow ramps – Tony pointed out that these are not likely built for wheelchairs or strollers, but rather for handcarts carrying alcohol or food… I’m sure that’s true, but they work just the same (as long as someone can push – they are really steep). 🙂

The Marina is the best, most level place to wheel around in Cabo, however the food is touristy and pricey, so I’d advise eating elsewhere most of the time. There are shopping stalls and excursion hawkers all along, so get used to saying “no, gracias” or just keep walking. I did not find it to be too intrusive. Tony said the vendors on the beach were a tad more aggressive. If you walk down the west side of the marina, you will find a nice large covered store with t-shirts and other souvenirs for sale – this was perfect for us, since we aren’t big shoppers and just wanted to pick up a few things. If you do love to shop and bargain, there are stalls/small shops all over downtown and the marina, or you could venture into San Jose del Cabo, which is by reputation quieter and has more quality shopping.

The best maps I found: http://loscabosguide.com/maps/cslmap.htm and http://loscabosguide.com/maps/dwntwncsl.htm, which I printed out and brought with us. There are links to more maps at the bottom of these pages. Trapper’s List ( http://trapperscabolist.com/) also has good maps with restaurant listings. Tony was initially surprised that I was relying on paper maps in the 21st Century, but he soon warmed up to the idea.

Which segues into… Internet access in Cabo is poor and expensive. Even the Internet cafés are expensive. We got decent free WiFi at the Mall Puerto Paraiso on the marina.

Restrooms: This is a constant concern when I travel. I had assumed that given the cruise ships that go through Cabo, some of the restaurants (at least on the marina) would have accessible restrooms. Well, while I didn’t do an extensive search, I found no restaurants with accessible restrooms, and only one public accessible restroom. The latter was at the southwest end of the marina, near the shopping center by Senor Frog’s. A tip buys you gratitude and toilet paper, and since the only change I had was a 10 peso coin, that’s what I paid. The restroom was clean and fully accessible. Pretty much the best 80¢ I ever spent. A  note of caution – the restrooms at Puerto Paraiso mall sport the wheelchair symbol, however in spite of being plenty large enough, the disabled stalls have no grab bars. *sigh*

Money: We exchanged $40 at the airport exchange to give us a head start (they gave us a poor exchange rate, though, and they took forever), and then got most of our pesos from an ATM at the Banco Santander at Plaza Arámburo, on Lázaro Cárdenas between Zaragoza and Ocampo. It’s a small plaza with a parking lot, motel and grocery store. Bank of America has an agreement with Santander so they do not charge ATM fees for BoA customers. [I dislike BoA  but I opened a small travel account there for this purpose; BoA also has agreements with banks in France, Germany, China, etc.] The ATMs are in Spanish but it’s pretty easy (“retiro” is “withdrawal”) and they give money in pesos – try asking for an odd amount so that you don’t get only large bills. ATMs are going to be your best bet for an optimal exchange rate, and are safer than “currency exchange” storefronts. They are also open 24 hours, so you don’t have to wait for a bank. Everywhere took pesos, and several places took dollars and/or credit cards. Twice, the item would actually have been cheaper if we’d paid with dollars, but I pretty stubbornly stuck to pesos. I did take about 10 $1 bills, which came in handy on the last day of our trip, to use for tips when our pesos were gone.

Restaurants: Let’s be honest, food is very important to me when I travel. So here’s a culinary rundown. Most of the restaurants can be found at http://trapperscabolist.com/.

Groceries – the room had a reasonably well-equipped kitchenette, which we decided to take advantage of by buying some groceries and eating most of our breakfasts in. Some travelers go to Costco or Walmart for this, but for only two people that felt a little excessive. Besides, it was our chance to support a local business. We went to the grocery store in the same plaza as Banco Santander, and bought eggs, cheese, tortillas, coke, beer, water, etc…. Another tip – I brought ground coffee, Crystal Light, and a few Sweet n Low packets from home.

Desperados – on Morelos/Niños Héroes (one blk from Cárdenas). We had dinner here – good food, touristy, reasonable but not great prices. They did give us a free drink. 🙂

Mango Cantina – on the marina, we had a yummy but expensive drink here. They are related to Mango Deck, a beach bar on Playa Medano.

Gordo Lele’s – on Matamoros one blk from Cárdenas. Tiny place plastered with Beatles memorabilia and featuring a bottle of hand sanitizer on each table. Gordo himself is in the kitchen. Eat in or take out. Cheap. Some of the best tacos I’ve ever had! The seafood was my favorite. Next time, I want to try a torta (sandwich).

Baja Brewing Co – on the marina, by Puerto Paraiso mall. The only microbrewery in Cabo. Tony had beer, I had a microbrew rootbeer float.

Happy Endings – open-air bar on Marina Boulevard near the Pink Kitty. We had drinks here – it was okay. I bet it livens up the later it gets. The bill would have been cheaper in dollars, but we paid pesos anyway.

Giggling Marlin – bar on Marina Blvd and Matamoros. Touristy, with audience-participation games starting at 7PM. It was fun, the staff seemed to be enjoying themselves, and it was the best $5 margarita I had in Cabo!

Señor Sweets – café on the north part of the marina. Decent smoothie.

Mama’s Royal – up Hidalgo 1.5 blocks from Marina Blvd. This was our one breakfast out, and rivaled for our best meal of the trip. So. Good.

The Office – beach bar on Playa Medano. The strongest margaritas I’ve had in my life – and they were 2×1. One sip, and we gladly decided to buy the overpriced (but delicious) guacamole appetizer. 🙂

Gardenias – behind McDonald’s on Camino Hacienda. Fabulous, deceptively simple tacos.

So, the trip was great overall.  Good food, beautiful weather, superb company. We spent time relaxing in the room (our leisurely breakfasts *in* were fantastic) and meandering around the marina. On a future trip, I’d like to hang out more by the pool and maybe go on an excursion, like whale watching (although excursions are expensive). The most important thing to figure out for the future, however, is how/where to get a guaranteed accessible, reasonably priced hotel room. To be continued… 🙂

Vancouver, B.C.

So, here I am again. Haven’t written for a while, which is unfortunate since 2012 has been rife with travel – cross-country skiing in OR in February, Miami in April, Palm Desert in May, LA in June, Vancouver BC in August… And there is more to come! So, I should probably get caught up.

Let’s start with the most recent: British Columbia. I grew up near the Canadian border in NE Washington state, so it was pretty common to run up there for periodic Chinese food, and we went to Fairmont Hot Springs every year with a group of families. But that was 25+ years ago now (god, I’m old), and I’d only been to Vancouver once before, as a kid, so since I live so close (Seattle) it was high time I visited. Plus, I have a friend who lives there now, so I had an extra excuse and I would not be exploring the city alone, which was a huge bonus.

So, I bought my Amtrak ticket, and started getting excited! I looked on hotels.com to make my initial lodging plan – that has become my go-to website to start my search, since it is the only one I’ve found that lets you search for specific accessibility features. Score. I ended up going with the Holiday Inn Centre (sounded like it would be downtown, which it wasn’t, but it was close to the train station and bus lines). They warned me when I booked that they only had one truly accessible room, which was already reserved, but my room would have a cut-out under the sink and a grab-bar by the toilet. It did, so although the room was challenging overall and not the best choice, I knew what I was getting into.

After booking the room, it occurred to me that I had not stayed alone in a hotel room since 1999, when I took a solo road trip across the southeastern US. That was before I used a wheelchair. So it gave me pause to imagine all the things that could go wrong – falling, or… well, mostly falling. So I knew that I would have to be extra-careful, and that I probably wouldn’t be able to shower. Thank you to the inventor of dry shampoo.

Just before the trip, I found out my friend would not be able to get me at the train station or join me until he got off work (I arrived on a Friday). I did some quick planning, ashamed that I had not already made a back-up plan. I usually take pride in being independent, but I had let it slide this time. Silly girl.

And I was ready!

Friday worked like a charm. In the morning, I got up before 5, got ready and rode Access (paratransit) to the the train station. It was so luxurious to be able to listen to my headphones, read my book (The Hangman’s Daughter) and munch on hummus/crackers, and a Pink Lady apple I had brought, all the while watching the beautiful Pacific coastline. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, which made it even better. I exchanged some money at the train station – not a great rate ($47+ CAD for $50 USD) but very much worth it as it reduced my stress level to have the correct currency. I caught an accessible taxi to the hotel, and thankfully my room was ready early (about 12:30), so I checked in.

The hotel room door was really heavy, the bathroom was very narrow and the grab bar by the toilet was short, but I figured out how to make it all work. The bed was excessively high, but fortunately I had spoken with housekeeping when I made the reservation, and they assured me that they could remove the “leg” of the bed to make it lower. So on my way back out, I asked that that be done, and I got a decent (free) city map and some change for the bus.

This is where my last-minute planning was invaluable. I had gone on to the Vancouver transit website (www.translink.ca) and done the “trip planner” to get me from my hotel to a cool food truck downtown called Fresh, Local, Wild. A friend had told me about it, and it seemed like somewhere I should try for a local experience. The transit website was very user-friendly. Fortunately, there was a bus about a block from my hotel (slightly downhill – ideal!) that went to within  a few blocks of the food truck (also downhill, because that day Vancouver was smiling upon me) – the #17. The other things I learned from the website were that the bus was $2.50 CAD, good for a ticket which is valid for 90 minutes of travel, and that they only take coins – which made me worry a bit at first (10 quarters!), until I remembered that Canada has $1 and $2 coins, not bills.

So, I wheeled across the street, waited less than five minutes for a bus, and zipped on board. The buses are the kind where the ramp folds out, so they are super easy, and I think they kneel lower than the Seattle buses that do that, because the ramp didn’t seem as steep. But the real timesaver was that you don’t have to strap in! You just wheel on, go to the designated wheelchair space, lock your brakes and go! Keen, as my grandfather would say. Is that because Canadians are less litigious if there is an accident? Do they have better-maintained wheelchairs with more reliable brakes due to public healthcare? Or have they just figured out that even if your brake fails, the chance that you would slide all the way to the entrance and get injured is miniscule. I mean, the light rail in Seattle and the train at the airport do not require that you strap in… I don’t know the reasoning, but it was nice.

I arrived downtown, asked the bus driver to point me toward my destination, and headed toward lunch. On the way there, I stopped at the Currency Exchange and exchanged the rest of my money for a good rate – 99.3 cents on the dollar. Better than using my credit card and paying the conversion fee, or paying an ATM fee. I found Fresh, Local, Wild quite easily – it is a pretty little food truck and the small menu changes daily (I took a picture with my phone to send it to my friend back home, but my phone later broke and my friend never got the pic, so the best I can do is: http://www.freshlocalwild.com/).  I got the most local thing I could – a fried oyster sandwich, which is not the sort of thing I would order normally, but what the heck. I wheeled down to a patch of green on my map, which appeared to be a waterfront park, to eat my lunch. It turned out to be Canada Place, a large paved area on the waterfront with benches and great views, including the Olympic Flame from the 2010 Winter Olympics:

Where the Olympic Flame was lit in 2010 by the Olympic Torch

View from Canada Place. Looking at North Vancouver across the water.

There, I soaked up rays and people-watched while I ate my sandwich. And the oysters were amazing. They were generously piled on to a soft hamburger bun, and tasted as fresh as you can get. Mmmmm…

I texted my friend so he could meet me when he left work (in downtown Vancouver, so that worked well) – be aware, texting from outside of the US is pricey, as is calling, depending on your plan. I hung out sola for a few hours, and then we met up and strolled to the Gaslight District for dinner. I hadn’t seen him for about five years, and it was so nice to catch up! He was able to give me the inside scoop on a lot of things Canadian. 🙂 For one thing, I know it sounds ridiculous at first to notice/care about this, but BC bars/restaurants are not allowed to “free pour” drinks or to offer discounted alcohol at happy hour. In Seattle, I’ve had a lot of fun exploring cheap happy hours and some of the fun is finding out which places serve stiffer drinks! Knowing that my gin and tonic would always contain exactly one ounce of gin, and that it would always cost the same (no $3 well drinks!) is a little deflating. There seems to be a lot more regulation in Canada, re: food/restaurants, healthcare, etc. Although, before you decry the lack of “freedom,” I must remind you that I didn’t have to strap my wheelchair in on the bus, and also you don’t have to take your shoes off when you fly (except, I think, to the US), the drug laws are a lot looser, and attitudes seem to be more accepting overall. So, in some ways Canada offers more freedom. Another bonus: there was an accessible restroom in every restaurant I went to. That certainly allowed me more freedom, although a restaurant owner may see it as infringing upon his/her rights. (On a side note, if you haven’t explored Seattle in a wheelchair or with someone who is, let me tell you that many restaurants/bars in Seattle do not have accessible restrooms, and some don’t even have accessible entrances (Tilth and Pink Door to name two).)

After dinner, we walked down Granville Street, which is full of clubs and late-night activity. The street was full of young, thin, scantly-clad women (girls, actually), heels, perfume and smoke. My friend says that in some ways Vancouver compares to L.A. more than Seattle, and I could see that.  It was great to be able to wheel myself around so much – there are hills in Vancouver, but the areas we went to “on foot” were pretty flat. And the curb cuts around most of the city are awesome. I wish I had gotten a picture, but the entire corner of most sidewalks is gently sloped and meets the street – it makes crossing the streets easy and safe.

Saturday, I went to an early lunch at a Canadian chain called the Cactus Club Cafe, a branch of which was close to my hotel (Friday night was not very noteworthy except to say that the hotel lowered my bed as asked and it was the perfect height). I had an albacore tuna sandwich with pickled ginger – yum! I also tried Canadian iced tea, which is pre-sweetened but not like sweet tea from the southern US. It actually tasted like Lipton instant iced tea.

Then, I met up with my friend and we went on a nice drive through downtown and over the Lion’s Gate Bridge to North Vancouver. There are some really beautiful (and expensive) houses there! We went to Stanley Park, and walked/wheeled along the seawall while we talked nonstop. I am in decent shape after all!

One of many picturesque views from Stanley Park

The seawall is 22 km long  (13.67 miles) and we went for about a mile – another gorgeous day!

Seawall in the foreground, Stanley Park Causeway in the background.

We went to Granville Island for dinner, and then to a neighborhood street to watch the annual Celebration of Light International Fireworks Competition over English Bay – this was the final show of a three-night production, and Italy was performing (Vietnam and Brazil were the other competitors). The accompanying soundtrack was being blasted from a car stereo, and the show was beautiful (I later found out that Italy won).

Then it was my last day, Sunday. I had found out on Saturday that in planning for my trip, I had managed to miscommunicate with my friend, and he had plans for Sunday so I would be exploring the city on my own. I decided to keep it simple, and hit one destination only – I did not want to end up trying to find multiple places in an unfamiliar city on public transit. (I could have taken taxis, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I’m cheap.) So I looked at my map, and chose Granville Island. It is a popular tourist destination and happened to be fairly near my hotel. Also, a friend in Seattle had recommended it to me and when we had gone there for dinner the night before, we didn’t have a chance to explore.

The day started out stressy because I was nervous about getting around alone and I promptly dropped my phone in the toilet. So I would be working without a net – off the grid for the day. I used the hotel computer  (it was expensive, so I just had a few minutes – my iTouch WiFi wasn’t working either for some reason) to find out which bus route went to the Island and to alert my friend in Seattle, who was going to pick me up at the train station, that I couldn’t call him as we had planned. I left the hotel and put my suitcase in storage there. I went to catch the bus, and when I told the driver where I was going he told me an easier way to get there – awesome! So I wheeled to a different bus and was off to Granville Island.

I was starving by the time I got there, and overwhelmed with the restaurant options, so I pulled a trick lifted from Rachael Ray’s $40-a-Day on the Food Network… I asked a local for advice! I wheeled into the first store I saw – a huge kids’ toy store – and asked a couple of young girls who worked there for their recommendations. That way, I hoped to avoid tourist traps. They suggested a fried seafood place on the waterfront, or the Granville Market itself,  where they said there was lots of good, reasonably-priced food. I didn’t really want fried seafood, however fresh, given my oyster sandwich on Friday, but market food (especially crepes, which they mentioned) sounded right up my alley.

I ended up starting with a grilled sandwich from a little French bakery right outside the market. This was a serendipitous choice, as when I settled in to eat it, a street performer started up his stunt/comedy show right there! He was hilarious and talented – juggled flaming torches, juggled sharp weapons, balanced on a rolling board:

and while balancing, fit his whole body through a squash racket. Telling jokes non-stop the whole time! What an unexpected treat.

While he was setting up to start the show, a woman came up to me and said that she had noticed me struggling when I got off the bus, and she wanted to ask why I didn’t have a motorized wheelchair. I know my actions are not always smooth, and perhaps it is difficult for others to watch me try to coordinate holding money and a bus ticket, wheeling uphill, wheeling across the horizontal boards on the bridge to the Island, or juggling wallet, food, napkins, coins, and managing my chair, but obviously I had managed to figure it out without injuring myself or anyone else. And there are lots of reasons to not get a motorized chair, none of which were her business. But I swallowed my initial response (f*ck you lady) and just shrugged/smiled and told her that a manual chair allows for greater independence. She smiled back and said “Okay,  good for you. I mean, I’m not being nosy” – I begged to differ – “but I thought maybe if it was financial I could help somehow.” So, maybe it turns out she was a millionaire and she would have written me a huge check, or maybe she just would have given me $20 to add to my “motorized wheelchair fund,” prayed for me or referred me to some social services. Either way, if my reason had been financial did she expect me to tell that to a complete stranger? Whatever.

Anyway, after the show I headed into the market and found my crepes, then found a spot out back to sit in the sun until it was time to go.

The market is pretty small, with about equal numbers of fresh food vendors (fruit, veggies, seafood, cheese) and food stalls. Maybe more food stalls. It was very accessible, and a great place to spend my last day.

I rode the bus back to my hotel, picked up my suitcase, and took a taxi to the train station. I had bought some fruit salad and couscous/spinach salad at the market for dinner on the train, so I was set! The train ride home was lovely and relaxing (although I must say, Dept of Homeland Security is all business). And I arrived home with only $10.31 Canadian, which I think is pretty good planning!

In summary, I had a fantastic weekend and hope to get up there again. Although I really got lucky on the weather, which may not happen a second time! Exploring on my own was scary but empowering, and ultimately turned out great. In comparison with Seattle, Vancouver seems more cosmopolitan and polished, while Seattle seems more laid back and grittier. More real. Vancouver is more expensive but more accessible.

Happy travels!

Peruvian food

I love Peruvian food. Mostly. There is a pot-roast-type dish called “seco de cordero” or “seco de res” with cilantro, that is divine, and potatoes in cheese sauce called “papas a la huancaina.” Spice is generally mild, potatoes and quinoa are common, soups are delightful and salads are rare.

Unfortunately, guinea pig (cuy) is also a delicacy. So much so that there is a painting in Cusco’s La Catedral (the Main Cathedral) of the Last Supper featuring cuy:

Anyway, I managed to avoid it until I was invited to a 15th birthday celebration for Alejandra, the daughter of the housekeeper/cook who worked for my landlord (during my first 6-month stint in Peru I rented a room from one of the administrators of the school where I worked). The party consisted of the two parents, four kids, and me in their one-room home on the outskirts of town. I should have known when I saw the guinea pigs running around on the dirt kitchen floor, but I was too naïve.

When dinner was served, there was a lovely stuffed green pepper and an entire guinea pig on my plate. Head and everything. Staring up at me, its scrawny little roasted paws sticking up. Oh, dear, I thought, since I immediately knew I was at serious risk of insulting them horribly if I didn’t eat it. As the only guest, I was the only one with a whole animal, too – the kids each only had half a guinea pig. I would be insulting them AND wasting their valuable food. I have to tell you though, I couldn’t. I took a couple of bites and washed them down with Inca Kola (a very unique beverage – kind of a bubblegum-flavored soda), but it was tough and stringy and gamey. I finally figured that not eating it was better than throwing up. When I left for home, there was some talk about “we’ll have to have you over again” but the Señora kindly added “next time, we’ll have chicken.” 🙂 They were SO gracious with my gringaness.

Two of Alejandra’s siblings

The birthday girl and her parents