Every morning in Cuzco when time and will allowed, we would make the walk through town and over to the City market at San Pedro. The walk was always nice with the dry mountain air, still cool from the night. The sun had just come up and would warm our backs. We would walk up the Avenida el Sol and turn left where it intersected with Plaza de Armas. The left would lead us through another small courtyard where the licensed shoeshiners were always busy with Peruvian businessmen. This same courtyard also held a pretentious, overpriced disco that had once served us great whiskey drinks with bitters but had disappointed us every time thereafter. Further down the road we would pass the Plaza de San Fransisco with a fountain in the middle and more shoeshiners in blue and yellow coats - these less busy and usually talking and smoking. We would pass under the big spanish archway, sometimes having to turn sideways to accommodate people walking away from the market. Once through the archway the vendors were lined up along both sides of the sidewalk selling everything from bathroom products to switchblades. Most of their customers seemed to be local this far from the center of town and you could tell by the absence of postcards and false alpaca sweaters. At the end of the street we could see the Cathedral of San Pedro standing tall and brown and very Spanish and usually surrounded by people waiting for something on the front steps. The market stood diagonally across the street from the church and was impressive with the corrugated steel roof about sixty feet high and covering what must be four city blocks. A network of vaults made of I-beams gave the roof it's structure and we were informed by a rather unfortunate waiter named John that it had stood there for over a hundred years.
"Cien años?!"
"Claro!"
The entrance closest to town and the one we usually used was where all the textiles and souvenirs geared toward tourists were sold. There were three wide aisles (the one in the middle being the largest) that ran the length of the market, allowing customers to access the seemingly endless perpendicularly running aisles. There were two or three rows of fabric sellers and tailors where women and children would sit behind their sewing machines and then came the juice stands. Dozens of white booths were lined up in rows, each one assigned to a woman in a green apron who would wave the newspaper at you as you walked by to get your attention. If you agreed she would give you the newspaper to read while she prepared one of the blended fruit drinks. These fruit stands were usually our reason for coming and by our second or third trip we became regulars of the big old friendly woman with squinted eyes and deep lines around her face from weather and smiling. After the first couple visits she knew we wanted the "especial" and would get to work juicing the carrots and blending the banana, papaya and pineapple fruits. Then she would add a bottle of Cusqueña dark beer along with a couple raw eggs and some bean powder. The Carrot juice would be added to the mix and then she would pour a tall glass for each of us. There was usually enough especial for three glasses each and we would pay her twelves soles including two for the tip as we got up feeling full and healthy.
