Chicha: What not to do before a 15 hour bus ride

We just tried chicha.  In a proper chicheria.  While sitting on milk cartons right next to giant clay pots of three day old maize juice fermenting away and throwing off a pretty foul odor.  And flies everywhere.  If you are curious to know if this chicheria is in any guidebooks, on any maps, or even googleable – the answer is decidedly no.  This was confirmed by the locals who thought it completely appropriate to pull out cameras and take pictures of us with our glasses of chicha.

And at the same time made friends with a drunken old man who introduced Chloé to his friends as his novia. We are not completely sure whether he spoke Spanish or Quechua but we bought him a glass of chicha anyway. He was quite a friendly character.

The serving size was about one liter. Without even saying anything, we timed our drinking, making sure we finished at the same time to avoid having one of us sitting there with an empty glass – that would be asking for trouble, we’ve been there before with lao lao.

The color is of thick homemade apple juice, the taste ius between bitter corn and tart apples and the texture is… crummy.

We’re about to board an overnight bus. Let’s see how it goes – yes, we have gravol and much, much more.  Until then, follow the jump to see how others have fared…


About Chloe254

Québécoise à peu près trentenaire qui fait de son mieux pour vivre bilingue, a Brooklyn et ailleurs. Si les bars a vins acceptaient les enfants et les chiens, et si mon chien savait se comporter en public, le monde serait parfait.

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