The white city

We'd been spoilt by Argentine buses. I'd also forgotten how bad long distance bus rides are. This overnight bus ride was uncomfortable to say the least. I should've known that getting the less pricey bus would've been a mistake. But, it got us there. After about 9 hours of viscious swerving, resulting in horrible nightmares of crashing planes, and a Harry Potter in Spanish we arrive early doors in Arequipa.
The deserted cobbled streets were no match for Cusco but still you could see the charm. You could also see the giant snow capped volcano towering over the main square, flanked by two smaller but equally snow covered mountains on either side. It's not a bad sight. The majority of buildings in Arequipa were constructed with silar rock which is volcanic and and gives the whole place the white-ish colour it's famous for in Peru. In fact the whole town centre of Arequipa is a UNESCO world heritage site. We seemed to have racked a few of these sites along the way but didn't expect a whole urban area to be one.
Our taxi driver told us, in Spanish but I got the gist, about the local delicacy. Cuy. Guinea pig. Oh good. Think I'll be going international then. Luckily in true Peruvian style there's loads of wood fired pizza places but as it turns out Arequipa matches Cusco for exquisite food in atmospheric places for little cash.
The driver insisted on taking us to some hovel of a hostel instead of the one we'd been recommended by a couple in Aquas Calientes a few days earlier. So what if it's 20 soles a night, 3 pounds, it was dirty dark and dank. The next place was much better, definitely worth double the amount of the first. Still we changed hostels for somewhere better for an extra 80 pence a night. Heady days my friend, heady days.
The great looking Plaza de Armas, again the same name as every other main square in South America, with it's white colonial style buildings and shiny cobbled roads and multiple arches and churches and the large volcano behind makes for a great scene. Outside of the main square there isn't much else. Cusco went on and on with narrow gorgeous streets with quirky bits of colour and Inca stonework. But then that was the capital of the Inca Empire. Arequipa was not. But Arequipa is affluent non the less and has a more Westernised slant than Cusco. Long streets full of banks and men selling watches and sunglasses. But also we saw mobile phone shops and clothes shops that didn't seem prevalent in Cusco.
This also means one of my favourite daily phrases was missing too. On the street in Cusco and Puno everyday were Peruvians clasping a handful of phones and a stopwatch. All day they stand on street corners declaring,"Llamadas llamadas llamadas", in quick succession. All this means is, 'Calls calls calls'. They basically sell usage time on their mobile phones. All day, everyday. I'm sure they must dream about llamadas llamadas llamadas. People do use them though. As a side note, ice-cream sellers use the same tactic with the same rhythm and speed and sound but with, "heladas heladas heladas". At this speed they sound the same, trust me.
After walking the town and eating the food we decide to book a tour to the nearby Colca Canyon, one of the deepest in the world. But first we try and get a bit culturised before we end up eating ourselves into a stupor. We visit the stunning Monastery of Saint Catherine, 'Monastario de Santa Catalina'. This place is like a little town within the city, high walls protect it and the nuns from the outside world. It's still inhabited but now it's open to the public for extra funds I presume. Within are a maze of small streets with blue or red painted walls that give the whole place a Spanish feel. Nuns have lived here for years and have actually been reigned in for living it up a bit. Eventually a minister came to crack down on the good living nuns and enforced various rules on them, such as the damning only one servant per nun rule. It seems like they had it good too. While outside of the high walls people struggled with poverty and the odd political struggle. Now and again the nuns took in the unfortunate and the monastery was also a sanctuary for various ill fated individuals.
It's a beautiful place, that also includes numerous lookouts over the city. This seems rather curious of the nuns, they could see out but no-one was able to peer in. Must have been hard either way, especially seeing some of the barb wire knickers they were forced to wear at some points. Photogenic it certainly was but there's no way I could live there until my dying days, barb wire digs in you know.