The glass windows. The muffled, but obnoxiously loud voice of the guide echoing over the speaker. The pampered tourists complaining over the slightest discomfort. The large horse fly that seems just as frustrated to be stuck on the bus as you are as he desperately launches himself face-first into a closed window. The bright-colored buses that arrive, queue, and park together like a giant box of Crayola64 on wheels. These are just a few reasons why I particularly dislike the tour bus method of travel.
Now, don’t get me wrong … tour buses have a time and a place. Tour buses can transport you places that would otherwise be difficult, if not impossible, to navigate on your own. Their guides offer you insight to a particular location that greatly aids your visit. For some people, guided tour bus travel is the only option for them, not by choice, but by necessity. And for these reasons, it is very valuable.
But it’s usually not for me.
I feel like I’m visiting a zoo. I feel like I’m in Kindergarten and my teacher is telling me when I can come and go, when I can eat, when I can ask questions. The big, bright bus makes me feel conspicuous, like I’m invading someone’s privacy — or even invading their community.
It just doesn’t feel authentic.
How do I know I am being shown an accurate representation of the country or culture? How do I know this isn’t just the nice part of town? What’s life like for the people who live on the other side of the tracks? Do the locals really shop here? If so, why are there so many souvenir shot glasses and refrigerator magnets?
Although it is not always possible to completely avoid this pit-stop style tourism, it certainly is possible to discover authentic travel and cultural experiences in between visits to “must-see” landmarks and gift shops.
For us, Cusco’s Mercado Central (also known as Mercado San Pedro), proved to be one of those authentic cultural experiences you can only find when you’re willing to step off the usual tourist trail for at least a few minutes.
Mercado Central, or the central market, was located just a few blocks down from our hotel, west of the Plaza de Armas, across from the San Pedro Rail Station and the beautiful Iglesia de San Pedro.
We passed by twice before the smell of freshly baked bread compelled us across the street to discover this local treasure.
Once inside, our eyes were treated to a beautiful tapestry of colors, cuisines, and cultures. Dozens of varieties of cheese. Delicious-looking pastries. Tempting fresh fruits and vegetables. Fresh eggs lined up like dominoes, eager for purchase. And significant representation from Peru’s 3,000+ varieties of potato!
We slowly explored each aisle in awe of its savory options, listening contently to the vendors chatter in Quechua as they prepared their stalls and displayed their products for the day’s customers.
And then suddenly, without warning, we found ourselves in the “fresh meat” section of the market. Huge carcasses of un-refridgerated animals lay draped across the white tables. We tip-toed our way through the blood-spattered aisles, holding our breath from the intense, gamey smell.
As I bent down to tie my shoe, I was startled to find freshly-severed alpaca snouts a mere four inches from my face. I quickly tended to my shoe and shuffled my way past sheep brains and bulls’ heads to catch up with Justin, who was intentionally speeding through the section.
“Are your feet sticky?” I reluctantly asked as we made our way out of the makeshift butcher shop and on to the fast-food vendors at the back of the market. Justin nodded in disgust. We loudly squished our way past locals enjoying breakfasts of bread and eggs.
I couldn’t help but think of what a tangible reminder our nasty, sticky shoes would serve of our authentic encounter with Cusco’s local shopping scene that day.
Before heading out, we stopped to watch as colorful donuts were arranged artistically on carts and vibrant bouquets of flowers were prepared — a stark contrast to the more unpleasant sights we’d experienced in the meat section.
Still engulfed in this experience of Cusco’s daily life, we stopped to watch as a young girl danced playfully atop a park bench at the market’s east end.
But the best part about our walk through the Mercado Central?
There wasn’t another tourist in sight.
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4 comments in this article
December 6, 2011 pm31 20:30
Love all these pictures and good information. thanks
January 24, 2012 am31 8:54
When I travel abroad (or even within the US), I am eager to experience the local cuisine, and hopefully in a hole-in-the-wall way. In Cairo, there was a small falafel place (literally, a space in a street wall) that sold them for around 20 cents American. The salad for the pita would be scooped out of a large blue barrel. The one problem in desiring to experience local cuisine is the risk of food poisoning. I had a particularly terrible day with that, but fortunately the antibiotic was very effective. I still don’t know what food I ate that caused that, but it shouldn’t deter us from trying to find the hidden gems a country has to offer for food.
January 24, 2012 pm31 20:01
Mitch — That’s awesome that you literally found a hole in the wall! I agree — it’s a risk we take eating the local food, but it has potentially great rewards. Glad to hear you recovered
Thanks for reading and commenting!