Journal #30: Our Beer Home

This is from a journal written on February 25, 2022, from Cusco, Peru.

So we made it Cusco and discovered this brewery right across the plaza from our Selina called Cerveceria del Valle Sagrado.

We first stumbled upon it the day we arrived because I saw signs for the Choco Museo (a chocolate museum, duh). When we went in, we checked out the chocolate displays, and when we wandered upstairs, we were popped into a cute and cozy brewery!

We ended up coming back here this Friday after trying to find a bar with a view of the city to enjoy some cocktails at sunset. The one we looked for didn't exist, and after walking around at the Cusco altitude of 11,000 ft, our legs, and our brains we tired. So, naturally, we wandered back to that cute brewery we hit the first night.

We enjoyed a few beers on the terrace, and I tried the Chilcano Maracuya, made of pisco, ginger beer, lime, and passion fruit juice. When the bartender handed me the cocktail, she said, "Cuidado, hay una montaña de pisco," with a wink.

Translation: "Careful, there is a frick-ton of pisco in this drink." Just how I like it.

We saw our new Canadian friends walking down the street below us at one point.

"Simon! Jordana!" we yelled at them from above.

They pivoted mid-stride, almost got hit by a car, and walked back across the street to meet us upstairs. FYI, in all the Latin countries we've visited, pedestrians do not have the right of way, so you have to keep your head on a swivel when walking in the street.

Now, let me tell you about Simon and Jordana. They're from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada. We had coincidentally all been staying at the Cartagena Selina simultaneously, but Brett and Simon had only briefly met.

Anyway, they're both working and traveling, like Brett and I, and own a property back in Saskatoon, like Brett and I want to have one day. Well, not necessarily in Saskatoon, but we want to own property and rent it out to continue to travel and have some form of passive income.

The four of us clicked right away, and that Friday night turned into a party.

The beer was flowing; we made friends with the brewery co-founder (his name is Alex, and he's from Oregon, lol), Simon traded shirts with Alex and tried to trade Jordana's Ray-Bans for a local's reading glasses. Jordana objected, of course, yelling at Simon from across the bar.

After a few failed attempts to trade other articles of clothing with strangers, Simon had infiltrated a group of locals and got them up to start dancing in the middle of the bar. The DJ was supplying constant bangers, and the vibes were immaculate.

Jordana, Brett, and I were watching the madness unfold from afar until one Peruvian man shimmied over to us and pulled Jordana and me into the action. I was shimmying with the man, who was about 5'3'', and Jordana and Simon were making out. The other locals (all only slightly taller than the man I was jiving with) were taking turns trying to high-five Brett's extended arm, which jutted into the air at a cool seven or eight feet above the floor.

Pure happiness.

Then I decided it was time to dip because Brett and I were signed up for the Machu Picchu tour in the morning (4:30 in the morning, to be exact).