Crazy consumptions

It's the national drink of Peru. It's bloody strong. And it's bloody nice. I already had plenty of it in Lima, in shot form; but tonight in Aguas Calientes, I had it as a cocktail. Vodka-like spirit, mixed with a kind of lemon juice concoction. Nice and tasty. And, of course, perfect preparation for tomorrow's dawn ascent to Machu Picchu.

One of the famous dishes of Peru is cuy — or guinea pig — which is traditionally boiled, and then baked or fried, and which is served complete with head, skin, and feet. For lunch today, Gaz was really keen to try some cuy. So myself, Cath, and Gaz were taken by Abimael for lunch to a restaurant, that is known for its delicious servings of cuy. Gaz and myself had half a fluffy feller each.

They were selling these at every street corner when I arrived in Ayacucho. Not being a Christian, I've actually never had a toffee apple before, although I know it's an Easter tradition in Australia as well. My verdict: very sweet, very hard on the outside, and very sticky; but real tasty, and quite fun to devour.

Steven bought this while we were waiting for our flight to Vancouver, in the terminal at San Francisco airport. It looks like a diluted kind of orange-juice drink, but it proudly proclaims on the label: "contains no juice". Wow, a drink with no juice — just what I was looking for! No juice at all, eh? That's pretty extreme: even more so than, for example, "may contain traces of juice". I tell you what: I'm leaving this crazy country real soon, but it's not soon enough.

I only had it so I could say: "I went to Mexico, and I ate a falafel". There, see, I said it :P. But actually, the falafel in the small, Israeli-run shop in downtown San Cristóbal was one of the best meals I've had in a while, and it was possibly the best falafel I've had in my whole life. Fresh pita pockets, hommus mixed with oil and whole chick peas, coleslaw salad on the side, and sauces of salsa verde and salsa rojo. Mmm... ¡sabbaba, amigo!

At Don Muchos tonight, I decided to order myself a little Margarita after I finished my dinner. I don't know what the hell they put in that drink, but it must have been damn strong; because that was the only alcoholic beverage I had tonight, and it put me right out like a light bulb. I didn't even make it back to the hammock: I dozed right off at the dinner table, and I missed most of tonight's juggling show.

Ordered this big fella with my (overpriced) lunch at Chichén Itzá. It's got a whole lot of different fruits in it, including strawberry and mango. The cup itself is also quite an attractive number — it could hold enough tequila in it to help intoxicate thousands of poor, sober Ethiopians.

Bought this on the bus to Valladolid, when a peddler got on during one of the (many) mid-trip stops. It tasted alright, but it really looked suss. By the time I'd drunk about two-thirds of it, I noticed a few mosquitoes floating around at the bottom, and I decided that I'd pushed my luck far enough. Total miracle that this stuff didn't hospitalise me.

At the corrida in Santa Elena, they were selling fresh mango slices in a cup. When I bought myself some, the lady asked if I wanted some chili on it. Chili mango? Ah, what the hell, I thought, and I tried it. Ugh! Not my cup of chili.

Mauricio and Lachlan took Steve and myself out for lunch, to have some moles. The moles themselves weren't that spicy, but they came with something on the side that was, as Lachlan said, "bloody radioactive". It was some kind of chili, and although it looked like grated carrot, it felt like a weapon of mass destruction inside my mouth.