Angels in the Swamp

I can’t see his wings, but Angel is aptly named. Like some ethereal being, his vision permeates Zapata Swamp’s mangrove clusters and hardwood thickets. Each time he signals quiet with his finger to lips; each time he turns to point, my eyes follow and voila! A Cuban tody materializes, or a rosette spoonbill or some other rare avian species.



Endangered White Crown Pigeon



Although Angel Martinez Garcia is formally trained as a “biologist technician”, he is a world-class birder. For 31 years he has worked for the Cuban National Park system, and since 1991, when Las Salinas’ wetlands came under official protection, Angel and colleagues have guided as many as 3,000 tourists a year through this section of Cuba’s million+ acres of southern Matanzas swampland. The 21-kilometer dirt road that runs through Las Salinas is bird heaven—Angel’s specialty, of course—with manatees in deeper waters; Cuban crocodiles in the shallows.

“I can’t promise many birds this time of year,” says Angel, after I pick him up at the park office.  “In the winter, flamingos by the thousands flock here, but many species migrate away during these summer months. The water is low enough to drive on the road now, but that means fewer birds, no cocodrilos.”



The 21-kilometer road thru Cuba's Las Salinas wetlands



“No crocodiles?” I whine. But disappointment is short lived when I stop the car at Angel’s direction. We exit the a/c of the rented Peugeot, and climb a lookout tower. From this vantage, we spy reddish and great egrets, blue herons, black hawks and ospreys. 

This drive-by form of bird watching is wonderfully convenient, but so far the species are similar to the USs biggest swamp, the Everglades, which I live not far from in Key West.



Great White Egret



Farther up the road, a flock of 30 or so flamingos wades in the salty brine. A mile further, a flock of wood storks nest in trees. White ibis and black-neck stilts fish in the roadside shallows. A scarlet ibis and the rosette spoonbill are special treats on the return drive. 

We make one more stop. In a hardwood hammock, Angel knocks on a wooden tree trunk.  Up pops two curious screech owls. Then by listening to the forest, it happens: new life-listers appear. Angel points me to the small lime-green Cuban tody and the much larger, Cuban trogon. All decked out in red, white and blue, Cuba’s national bird is its flag-on-the-wing.

Other winged-things like mosquitoes are fiercer in the hardwoods than on the marshy flats. They lock on to my white linen shirt and slacks with the blood-sucking gusto of leeches. Accessorized with black flip-flops and do-rags to protect my face and neck, this particular ensemble is hardly the stuff of swamp walks. But when I planned this most recent trip to Cuba, I didn’t count on a bird outing of such magnitude. Only this morning my swamp-suit was culled from city clothes when Hotel Playa Larga’s front desk clerk said, “Yes, I can get you a guide.”

As you might expect, tourists don’t just flock to Cuban national parks the way they drop into parks stateside. Everything is arranged by “Powers That Be”: guide, gate guard, time (three hours), fee ($10). Obviously, a higher authority is watching over me, and armed with bug spray, binoculars, bird books and all that jizz, which Angel backpacks for my use, he whisks me in and out of these mosquito-infested swamps and back to the Peugeot with a smile on my face.



Zapate Swamp's Las Salinas



But no cocodrilos. No Zapata wren, nor sparrow nor rail, all rare species found only here, and whose habitat requires some muck-oozing, swamp walking that goes well beyond my sandals. When in Cuba, though, I figure you do as the Cubans do: improvise. I ask Angel to shorten the Las Salinas tour and take me on a side excursion to nearby Sopillar, where live zunzuncitos, the smallest birds in the world known in English as bee hummingbirds.

A mile hike into the bush along an old logging road renders only blood (mosquitoes), sweat and tears (blisters). “Noon is not the best hour for spotting birds,” Angel apologizes. We hike another sweltering mile to another blue-flowered salsa parrilla tree where I see a locust-size blur move in erratic, helicopter-like motion. Angel confirms it’s a zunzuncito and remarkably, three more passbys offer up a rainbow display of feathers.

On the walk back, Angel raises finger to lips, points and a Cuban green woodpecker appears. A few more steps, a giant lizard cuckoo materializes. Next, a stripe-headed tanager. A pee wee. Two more trogons. At high noon during off, off-season (June) the Zapata Swamp, via an earthbound Angel Garcia, delivers more birds to my Life List than any other single day of birding. Ring him up when you’re in Cuba (059-7249), and dress smartly for the occasion: You, too, may meet Angels in the swamp.



Angel Martinez Garcia at Cuba's National Park office in Zapata Swamp



Cuzco Weekender

Revered by the Incas as the “navel” of the world, Cuzco is still the epicenter of its ancient culture; the gateway to its Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu. But over the course of eight centuries, Old Town roots entangled more than Amerindian palaces as Spanish Conquistadores destroyed or built atop their temples. These days, the Inca and Colonial façade of stone-cold walls flush against steep, cobblestone streets echoes a contemporary liveliness and energy that’s revitalizing everything antique: Backpacker chic is central to the city’s hum.

Andean fashions currently popular worldwide, such as fingerless gloves and ear-flappy hats known as chullos, are as commonplace as Asolo hiking boots. Among the half million Peruvians, who live in Cuzco and embrace the developing international scene, most newcomers—tourists, students, ex-pats—respect the mountains as much as the ruins. Only natives, though, get past the huffing and puffing at 11,000 feet, and even then most agree, the highlife is breathtaking in more ways than one.

Friday afternoon: Settle into the cultural core, Plaza de Armas—by far the biggest park-like square of many in surrounding neighborhoods. City tours in wooden streetcars start here; dozens of bars and restaurants line the curbs. Grab Peru’s popular brew, Cusquena lager, at Norton Rat’s Tavern (115 Loreto, second floor). Balconies just big enough to hold bar stools guarantee plaza viewing or 30-seconds of vitamin D from the rare sunray that breaks across mountaintops. Eavesdrop into trekking tales next balcony over. Heavily accented English is spoken here, but Spanish is better for a game of pool or darts.

Before hiking back to your hotel to forestall headache—beer or altitude?—drop into Paititi located directly below the Rat’s. This restaurant is named after a mythical Inca city, lost and never found. Place an order for cuy, a traditional staple of Andean cuisine that takes 3 hours prep. Before turning up your nose at the roasted guinea pig specialty, remember: Peru gave the world potatoes, too. Be sure to reserve the table for two at Paititi’s entry window to watch dancers in full Peruvian dress, who celebrate something almost every evening on the raised-concrete promenade of Cuzco’s Cathedral across the street.

Arrive for 8 p.m. dinner at Paititi (corner of Loreto and Mantas; http://www.restaurantpaititi.com/) with the traditional Peruvian pan flute band. This quartet will still be playing “The Condor” when you scrape the last bit of stuffing from the crispy guinea pig. Because cuy is cooked and served whole, following the tableside presentation—in this particular case, the little pig’s wearing a tomato chullo on its head—waiters trim it into finger-food because typically, hands are the utensils of choice. Other Plaza de Armas restaurants serve cuy, some at half Paititi’s price, but all need 3-hour notice.

Saturday morning: Even if you’re not staying at Hotel Monasterio (Calle Palacios 136), have breakfast here. The buffet is bountiful; the service superior, the architecture elegant. A hearty meal at this Jesuit stronghold, built in 1575 atop an Incan emperor’s palace, includes a classical-Spanish guitarist in the courtyard, which properly sets the stage for The Center for Traditional Textiles of Cusco(603 Avenida Sol; http://www.textilescusco.org/ ).

The easy hike is downhill to weavers from 9 isolated highland villages, where they carry on the work of elders, creating distinctive patterns tied to each community’s cultural identity. This is the real hand-woven deal, not a souvenir shop for ubiquitous striped-cargo pants or commercially made placemats. Weavers demonstrate backstrap looms and the adjoining museum of festival dress is free to visitors. Although Martha at the front desk says the not-for-profit organization is all about fair trade, expect to pay big bucks-by-Cuzco standards for handbags and blankets that range from $35-to-$200US.

Hike back uphill to Calle San Agustin and Inca Roq’a, where the only original Inca block wall still stands in Cuzco proper. Note the precision of hand-hewn, stone-to-stone placement and compare the craftsmanship to cobblestone streets and pebbled courtyards. En route, peek into every open doorway to get a sense of the vigorous social life hidden behind massive doors and high-city walls. Stop to visit Mama Llama—and her endangered vicuna cousins—grazing in the glass-walled park on Calle Maruri, next to San Agustin International Hotel. 

  

Continue to climb straight up San Agustin-cum-Calle Palacios-cum other street names that change at almost every corner to reach San Cristobal church. Real trekkers mosey on up this 3.2-mile track to Sacsayhuaman*, an Inca fortress. Entry to its layered walls requires a boleto turistico, the government-issued pass for cultural events, museums, parks. Buy a 10-day pass for $50US at Oficina Ejecutiva del Comite on Av. Sol 103, which includes some of the events listed here and marked with an *. Compared to US park fees, Peru’s high prices seem overly protective (a one-day ticket to Machu Picchu=$64US), but lesser expensive student passes or partial boleto turisticos limit what national treasures you may visit.  

Catch your breath winding back down narrow alleyways and walk-thrus. In neighborhood plazas, locals display llamas and art students galore display portfolios; pick from watercolor landscapes or saints painted oil-on-canvas in the Escuela Cusquena style of art. End up in San Blas Plaza for lunch at Pachapapa (Plazoleto San Blas 120), directly across from the church. This is one of many hidden courtyard restaurants, where personal pizzas are baked in huge bread ovens. A big bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup, though, is good for the soul ($3US) and easy to digest for a body working hard in thin air.

Top off lunch with El Hada artisan ice cream at 167 Q’hapchikijllu walkway then visit Santa Catalina Convent* a few doors up. If shopping is in order, look for fine clothing along Zetas Street in upscale stores like Latina Americana (#306). Since the wild vicuna has become a protected species, baby alpaca is the fibrous buzzword for sweaters, coats and ruanas that cost about 1/3 of US shops.

From church bells to pan flutes, music drives Andean nightlife. Start the evening with Peruvian folk dancing at Centro Qosqo de Arte Nativo* (604 Avenida Sol) or return to Q’hapchikijllu, this time to #159, where The Dragon’s Palate features American rock ‘n roll like you’ve never heard. Think Chuck Berry, the Beatles or Eric Clapton on fiddle and bongos. This foursome—The Guardians—play music as unconventional as the base player’s chullo and lead guitarist’s cowboy hat. They even throw in Spanish and English folk songs as diners and winers enjoy Italian pasta on the patio. Antique doors are the restaurant’s tabletops, salvaged during the recent restoration of the early-1700s hacienda, which also features a series of art galleries (http://www.tupacyuapnqui.info/).

Because Cuzco is not a late-night town, budget hostels have movie nights, and the Point (Meson de la Estrella #172; http://www.thepointhostels.com/) offers theme nights or dance contests at its Horny Llama Bar. Since 2010, though, the London Town bar (Calle Tecsecocha #415, second floor) is where the backpacker crowd—when not rising to catch the 5a.m. bus/train to MaPicchu—plays hardy. Or possibly, they play here until they catch the bus at 5 a.m.  Live music starts at 11p and pisco sours, Peru’s national drink, flow until 3 a.m.

Sunday morning: Go to church.  

Choose from 10 within blocks of Plaza de Armas. Most are open on Sunday, although even this day, La Compania cater-corner from the main Cuzco Cathedral requires an entry fee. The Cathedral does not. Among magnificent 16^th and 17^th-century architecture, it is a jewel beyond its solid-silver altar or Baroque-style beams and sculptures gilt in 18-carat gold: From Escuela Cusquena, the first organized artistic center in the New World, one of its last artists, Marcos Zapata painted in 1753 a-not-so-standard Last Supper. In it, Jesus and his disciples are about to chow down on a whole-roasted cuy. In the cross-over culture of Christian icons and nature-loving Amerindians, pumas are carved on the front doors and many of the foundation stones were looted from Sacsayhuaman, when the Cathedral’s construction was started in 1550.

Hotel Monasterio’s El Tupay restaurant donates 1 percent of dinner sales to the local Catholic Diocese—maintaining these architectural wonders costs a bundle—but at least fifty cents goes directly to the salvation of pagan babies when you buy knitted finger puppets from kids hawking on the Cathedral steps.

 Just down street, the more modest San Pedro Iglesia is at the end of Santa Clara Avenida.    The big draw is not other worldly, but rather the down-to-earth focus of San Pedro Market, a cavernous affair of stalls packed under hot tin roofs, stretching full-city blocks. This is where vendors offer the best prices for commercial textiles, Peru’s biggest souvenir items. But primarily, this is the working-class market, where farmers sell fresh produce and flowers, cheeses and breads, meats and potatoes; lots of ‘em—as many as 40 potato varieties subtly flavor recipes, soups to entrees. Who knew a potato is not a potato is not a potato?

Basics

Flights into Cuzco from Lima and Arequipa arrive daily. The airport is 15 minutes from Plaza de Armas, but put on those hiking boots to walk away from taxi drivers asking for more than 10 soles (about $4US). Thereafter, forego vehicles and wear boots for transportation…or dancing.

Hotel Monasterio: Calle Palacios 136, http://www.monasteriohotel.com/. $$$$$. Oriental Express’s luxurious makeover of a 1550 Jesuit monastery.

San Agustin International: 390 Calle Maruri, http://www.hotelssanagustin.com/. $$. Conveniently located in Old Town, two blocks from Plaza de Armas; best rooms are at the top.

EcoPackers Hostel: Santa Teresa #305, http://www.ecopackersperu.com/. $. Not for the get-down get-rowdy backpacking crowd; clean and well located in an historic Old Town building.