Be Nice to Your Bus Driver
The only "backpacker" train from Aguas Calientes stopped at Ollantaytambo where taxi drivers and colectivos (minibuses) accosted people for fares to Cuzco. Travellers wandered or stood around in a confused mess while drivers impatiently waited for them to figure out the system and choose their vehicle. The travellers who chose the more expensive private taxis set off promptly while those in the colectivos sat wearily, waiting for the minibus to fill.
Our colectivo was finally filled, but by obnoxious Irish, who yelled "¡Vamos, vamos!" though we were pinned between other vehicles, and made loud remarks about a range of things from the music in the bus to the local street food. When we broke away from the traffic, our driver seemed to make a point of ensuring our journey would be quick. He drove on the opposite side of the road, overtook traffic that was overtaking traffic, overtook on blind curves and crests, screeched around corners and tail-gated other cars. While we nodded off, accustomed to this style of driving, the Irish were silenced but for gasps of "Oh my God" and similar oaths, all the way to Cuzco.
Our colectivo was finally filled, but by obnoxious Irish, who yelled "¡Vamos, vamos!" though we were pinned between other vehicles, and made loud remarks about a range of things from the music in the bus to the local street food. When we broke away from the traffic, our driver seemed to make a point of ensuring our journey would be quick. He drove on the opposite side of the road, overtook traffic that was overtaking traffic, overtook on blind curves and crests, screeched around corners and tail-gated other cars. While we nodded off, accustomed to this style of driving, the Irish were silenced but for gasps of "Oh my God" and similar oaths, all the way to Cuzco.
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