Nazca to Abancay

The three main forms of personal transportation in Peru -- all lined up. The big old American power car. The tiny, largely Japanese and Korean compact and the often motorized bike-cart.

Took a 10-hour bus ride from Nazca to Abancay. As the crow flies, the distance can´t be more than 175 miles. And no, we didn´t average 17 mph -- we drove hundreds of switchbacks, though, the winding mountain roads where you´re basically doing U-turns every quarter to a half mile or so. Nazca is about 1,500 feet above sea level -- Abancay is 7,800.

So we drove up, up, up, and up some more. Started out at 6:30 p.m., didn´t get in 4:30 a.m. A hot, smelly trip in a bus definitely not built for anyone over 5 foot 6. Didn´t really get more than a solid hour of sleep before a cramp set in. Tough sledding.

At the Abancay bus station, I get a taxi, and tell the guy -- una hotel, algo barato, pero no muy barato. Something cheap, but not too cheap. He drives three blocks, and pulls up to a joint. I pay him, and go in. Eight soles. Eight soles for a room. That´s maybe $2.65. Yet, even in Peru, you get what you pay for. It was a room, with a bed, sheets, blanket and overhead light. About 10 x 6. That was it. Nada mas. Anyway, I was wrecked, so I took it four four hours, just to get some shuteye. Found a place later, with bathroom and decent shower for 30 soles. About $10 a night.

Guillermo, the barber of Nazca, gave me the old No. 4 on top, No. 2 on back and sides.

Once in a while, like with that taxi driver, I get the feeling I´m being jobbed because I´m a foreigner and don´t know any better. This hack charged me two soles for the trip, which is about four blocks. I bet most residents in Abancay would have slapped the guy. For me, however, one sole is 33 cents. He needs it more than me, and there´s not much point in arguing over pennies.

Guillermo, above, also jobbed me. I saw two hombres in a row give him cinco soles for more of a style cut than my buzz job. He asked me for 10, after, of course, at least putting in about two minutes of snipping air behind my head just for appearances´ sake. Usually, the best way to avoid any problem is to ask beforehand how much something is. If you accept, everybody´s happy. If you shake your head, or slip a wry smile, or even laugh, and say, demasiado, most folks are quite willing to bargain. With Guillermo, I asked beforehand, but he kept talking, put me in the chair and wrapped the old smock around, and never gave me an answer. When he said 10, I raised my eyebrows in mock horror. He shook his head, no, no, ocho. Ocho soles. So, the every buck was worth paying just to watch and learn.