MANDOR
Christy
and I were up early on Tuesday. Neither
of us felt anywhere close to 100% healthy, but today was our last chance to get
to Machu Picchu. We rolled out to the
hotel lobby and had a quick breakfast.
We checked out and waited there for our cab.
A
bit of confusion ensued. Another couple
was also waiting there for a cab. A few
minutes later, a cab arrived, and the hotel clerk told us it was ours. We helped the driver stash our backpacks and
we were on our way to the train station.
However, we quickly realized that he didn’t have our Machu Picchu
tickets. Our travel agent had told us
that the driver would have them, but he had no idea what we were talking about.
When
we got to the end of the alley, there was another cab waiting to head up. At that point I began to wonder if we weren’t
in the wrong cab.
We
arrived at the railroad station a few minutes later. After a brief visit to the ATM we boarded a
van bound for Ollantaytambo.
Last
spring a massive flood wiped out the railroad tracks in several places between
Cuzco and Agua Calientes. The only practical way in and out of Agua Calientes is by train, or by foot. Thousands of travelers were stranded in Agua Calientes before eventually being rescued by
helicopters. Since the disaster, the
railroad has worked feverishly to reopen the line. Luckily for us, the critical part of the
railroad through the canyon upstream of Agua Calientes
had been repaired. Unfortunately, one
section of tracks closer to Cuzco was still impassable. As a result, we had to travel most of the way
to Agua Calientes by bus.
The
van took us all the way to Ollantaytambo and
beyond. The last 20 minutes of the drive
were down a bumpy one-lane dirt road.
The ride was particularly uncomfortable for someone with distressed
intestines. The good news is that there
was a train waiting for us when we arrived at the station. We boarded immediately and took our seats. Before we departed I visited the facilities,
which were first rate!
The
train ride was quite scenic, even though our seats were facing backwards. Early on we passed the starting point for the
Inca Trail. It was a little depressing
seeing a group of excited backpackers starting up the path.
Christy
nodded off shortly after we started down the canyon. Along the way I had a great view of massive
boulders and monster rapids in the river below.
I enjoyed the occasional glimpse of a distant glacier spilling down from
the high peaks beyond the gorge. We
passed several minor Inca ruins, and I even saw an impressive waterfall. We also passed lots of local people walking
upstream along the railroad tracks. I
could be wrong, but I suspect that many of them were porters and guides on
their way back from another expedition on the Inca Trail. It seems pretty weak that they aren’t
provided with transportation, but then the walk back from Agua Calientes is probably nothing to them.
We
arrived in Agua Calientes around 1pm. The town looked pretty much the way I
expected. Those expectations were based
on the warnings I’d read in my guidebooks.
The town is at the base of an incredible canyon, surrounded by
neck-craning peaks. The sheer walls of
the gorge are draped in jungle vegetation.
Unfortunately, the town itself doesn’t quite live up to the lofty
standards of its surroundings. In fact,
it’s a bit of a stretch to call Agua Calientes a town
at all. Actually, the town is really
just a chaotic jumble of hotels, shops, and restaurants, and they seem to be
all piled on top of one another like they can’t get out of their own way. In other words, it looked a lot like Myrtle
Beach, South Carolina, just without the ocean.
Having said that, it really wasn’t THAT bad. Of course, it helps to have low expectations.
A
representative from the Hostal Pachacutec
met us at the train station. This was
nice, but she didn’t have our Machu Picchu tickets, either. She led us on foot (there aren’t really any
other options) to the hotel. The walk
was uphill the whole way, and it quickly became clear that neither of us was in
tip top condition. Apparently a little
bit of food poisoning is all it takes to ruin months of training.
We
checked in and found a message waiting for us from our travel agent. Apparently our guide would meet us at the
hotel at 7 with our tickets. Relieved,
we headed up to our room to stash our packs.
The room was decent, but the bathroom was a bit odd, as accessing the
shower required hurdling the toilet. I guess that’s one way to save on the hot
water bill.
We
went out in search of lunch. There were
dozens of restaurants to choose from, and most of them had salespeople out in
the streets looking to drum up business.
We found our way to Chez Maggy and had decent
Mexican food. Afterwards, we explored
the town. That only took a few minutes,
and it was still mid-afternoon. We
weren’t planning to head up to Machu Picchu until the next morning. What to do?
During
my trip planning I’d stumbled across a website with a vague description of a
pair of hikes originating in Agua Calientes. One involved a fairly short but steep climb
up Putacusi Mountain.
That hike promised views of Machu Picchu from the opposite side of the
canyon. It sounded like a tough hike
though, and Christy wasn’t up for it. I
decided to save it for Thursday morning, before we headed back to Cuzco. The other hike involved walking down the
railroad tracks a couple of miles to a hidden valley with a couple of
waterfalls. This sounded like the
perfect warm up for our big day to come.
We
followed the railroad tracks out of town, high above the roaring river. Before long, we reached the trailhead for Putacusi Mountain.
The trail, which is actually an ancient stone stairway, was blocked with
fallen logs. There was a sign posted,
and even with my limited grasp of Spanish I could tell that the trail was
closed due to safety hazards. So much for Thursday’s plans.
We
continued down the tracks. A few minutes
later we curved around the side of the mountain and approached an impressive
tunnel carved straight through a sheer cliff.
The tunnel wasn’t very long, but I still hesitated. There wasn’t much room on either side of the
tracks in there. Things would get a
little uncomfortable if a train came while we were passing through.
We
didn’t see any other options, so we headed in.
We walked quickly, into the heart of the mountain, despite the growing
darkness. We reached the far side
quickly and continued our walk. A few
minutes later we reached a second tunnel.
This one was similar, and we hurried through. Luckily, we didn’t see a train until later
that afternoon.
We
reached another train station – Machu Picchu station – a few minutes
later. This station was deserted. In fact, the only thing around was a massive
pile of garbage in bright pink bags stacked next to a siding. I shudder to think where all that trash came
from. I’d like to think that it wasn’t
from Machu Picchu and the Inca Trail, but it probably was. The Inca Trail is actually closed every
February for an annual cleanup.
Due
to the cost and difficulties associated with backpacking the Inca Trail, a
number of alternative treks have become popular. Many of these are advertised as “alternate”
routes to Machu Picchu. However, this
description is a bit misleading. The
true Inca Trail is the only route that directly accesses Machu Picchu. The alternative treks actually end in Agua Calientes. From
there, hikers can walk or take a bus up to Machu Picchu just like everyone
else. As we walked the railroad tracks,
we passed a bunch of backpackers nearing the end of the Salkantay
trek. The trail portion of the Salkantay trek ends downstream from Agua Calientes at a hydro-electric power plant. From there, hikers walk to Agua Calientes along the railroad tracks. The hikers we passed all looked like they
were ready to get to town!
Shortly
beyond the Machu Picchu station we passed a side trail to a botanical
garden. It was getting too late in the
day to stop, but I made a note of it, as we needed something to do on Thursday
morning.
Beyond
the botanical garden we passed through a wild canyon echoing with the roar of
the river below. At times the railroad
tracks clung to a narrow precipice at the base of mammoth cliffs. At other points it wandered deep into the
jungle, surrounded by alien but lovely vegetation. All the while our eyes drifted upwards,
towards Machu Picchu. On a couple of
occasions I thought I spotted what may have been ruins perched high up on the
lip of the gorge.
We
reached a single house a bit later.
There was a sign for the Mandor gardens and
waterfalls here. We checked inside and
met a friendly local woman that understood English about as well as we spoke
Spanish. Despite our communication
difficulties we eventually realized that we had to pay 10 Soles (about $3) each
to visit the gardens. We paid the fee,
and the woman opened the gate for us. As
we walked, she seemed to be very excited about the garden’s flowers.
She
headed back to the house while we strolled through a wonderland of exotic
plants. I couldn’t really identify
anything except Calla Lilies, but it didn’t matter. The garden was lovely. Near the upper end of the gardens we passed
the first of two waterfalls. This one
was high, but on a small stream. It
wasn’t very exciting, but it’s probably more impressive during the rainy season. The second waterfall is on the main creek. Even though it’s much smaller, it’s quite
nice. The second waterfall and the
gardens were definitely worth the walk from town and the small fee.
It was getting late, so we
didn’t linger long. We walked back out
through the gardens and waited at the gate for our host to let us out. When she approached, I announced that “las flores
es bueno”! This translates roughly to “the flowers is good”. Eloquent, huh?
Christy wasn’t very impressed, but at least the woman seemed to
understand what I was trying to communicate.
We
made a quick hike back due to the late hour.
It was almost dark when we reached the Machu Picchu station. From there, we walked down steps to access
the road connecting Agua Calientes with Machu Picchu. I thought that walking the rest of the way on
the road would be safer than going through the tunnels again. I was partially correct, as a train passed by
shortly after we reached the road. On
the other hand, we were nearly run down by a bus hauling a load of tourists
down from Machu Picchu.
Back
in town we stopped at Govinda, a vegetarian
restaurant, for dinner. After a quick,
decent meal we hurried back to the hotel to meet our guide. He was waiting for us, but he didn’t have our
tickets. Groan. He said he’d get them for us and promised to
be back by 9:30. We spent the next few
hours hanging out. He finally returned
at 10pm, tickets in hand. The day was
saved!
Aside
from the tickets, he also provided us with all kinds of useful information. We told him that we wanted to climb Wayna Picchu, which is the mountain behind the ruins in all
of the famous photos of Machu Picchu.
The regulations for climbing Wayna Picchu are
almost as cumbersome as trekking the Inca Trail. By the time our guide finished explaining
everything, I was convinced that Wayna Picchu would
be the most challenging mountain I’d ever climbed. That’s not because of the distance, or the
elevation gain, or the altitude, or the trail conditions. Rather, it was simply due to all the hoops
we’d have to jump through to be allowed up there.
Officials
only allow 400 hikers per day on Wayna Picchu. 200 are allowed up at 7am, and the remainder go at 10am.
However, all of the tickets for Wayna Picchu
are given out when the Machu Picchu gates open at 6am. They go fast, so we knew we had to be there
at 6 to be sure of getting a permit.
There are two ways to get to Machu Picchu from Agua Calientes. The first requires a 1 – 1 1/2 hour hike up a
steep trail (actually mostly steps) from the bottom of the canyon (a 1500’
climb). The other option is to take the
bus. The buses start leaving Agua Calientes at 5:30.
Christy
was still weak from her illness and wasn’t real keen on hiking up. I’m sure she could’ve made it, but she
probably wouldn’t have had much energy left for Wayna
Picchu and exploring Machu Picchu. To be
sure of getting a permit, we needed to be on one of the first buses the next
morning. Our guide told us that the line
would start forming before 4am!
This
seemed pretty extreme, but we were still grumpy about missing out on trekking
the Inca Trail. We were determined to salvage
our visit to Machu Picchu. Missing out
on Wayna Picchu simply was unacceptable. We concluded our business and headed to our
room, setting our alarm for 3:30.
THE LOST CITY OF THE INCAS
“I’m
having an MRI next week to find out if I’m claustrophobic.”
- Steven Wright
We
were up at 3:30 the next morning, and in the hotel
lobby a few minutes later. That’s when
things started going downhill. The front
door was locked, and there was no apparent way to open it. The only emergency exit would’ve required
throwing a large object through a window.
We eventually tracked down an employee, but she couldn’t find the
key. After a few minutes of this, she
summoned what must’ve been the maintenance man from somewhere in the back. He shuffled around for a few minutes before
reappearing with a huge butcher knife.
This was not encouraging.
I
was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic at this point. I mean, what would happen if there was a
fire?
All
attempts to escape the hotel were thwarted.
Finally somebody arrived FROM OUTSIDE and
unlocked the door. How is it possible
that the only person with a key wasn’t even in the building? I nearly trampled him I was so ready to get
out of there.
Overall,
the Hostal Pachacutec was
decent. I would give it 3 stars, except
I have to subtract a ˝ star for the lack of emergency exits and a ˝ star for
having to crawl over the toilet to get into the shower issue. Actually, 2 stars might be generous. Let’s make it 1 and ˝.
We
walked a few blocks down to the bus station.
We arrived a few minutes before 4am and found about 10 people in
line. Good deal. We sat down on the sidewalk in the late night
chill and waited. As we sat, we watched
as more and more people arrived. By 5 am
the line wrapped around the block.
There’s no telling how far it extended.
At this point I began to feel like I was back in the 80’s waiting to buy
concert tickets. I had my fingers
crossed that we’d get front row seats!
The
later arrivals were shocked by the line.
Apparently they didn’t have a guide tell them to get in line by
4am. A few walked up to the front of the
line before they seemed to realize that there WAS a line. Hey buddy, nothing to see here. Move on, no cutsies.
We
saw quite a few others pass by on their way to the trail up to Machu
Picchu. Part of me wished I was joining
them. Hiking up sounded a lot more
appealing than sitting there on the sidewalk in the chilly pre-dawn air. The good news was that we knew we were on the
first bus outta there.
We
left town at 5:30 and made the long ride up steep switchbacks. The road was narrow, and I was almost glad it
was too dark to see just how close we were to the edge of the cliff! We arrived a few minutes before 6 and found a
big line already forming in front of the main entrance. This was startling. Apparently lots of folks had walked up from
Agua Calientes.
There is also a hotel adjacent to the ruins. Guests at that hotel have only a short stroll
over to the gates.
Despite
the crowd, we were definitely well within the first 400 people. We got in line, and a few minutes later an
employee came by with two stamps in his hand.
He asked each person there, “7 or 10?”
We had to start at 7am, as our guided tour of Machu Picchu was scheduled
to start at 10:30.
The
gates eventually opened, and we all began slowly shuffling forward. I hummed the theme to “It’s a Small World”
under my breath until Christy elbowed me in the ribs. Finally we passed through the gates and into
Machu Picchu, the Lost City of the Incas.
Machu Picchu is world-famous, and for good reason. There are many theories surrounding the
purpose of Machu Picchu. One of the most
prevalent is that it was an estate for the Inca Emperor Pachacuti. It was built in the 15th century,
but was abandoned about a hundred years later following the arrival of the
Spanish conquistadors. However, the
conquistadors never discovered Machu Picchu.
Because of this, The Lost City avoided the destruction that the invaders
wrought at most other important Inca sites in South America. As a result, the site remains relatively
intact to this day (the negative impacts of tourism aside).
The
Lost City wasn’t truly “lost”, in that sense that the locals knew about
it. But the outside world knew nothing
of it until it was “discovered” by the American historian Hiram Bingham in
1911. Bingham spent several years
conducting excavations at the site. Still,
it remained relatively obscure until modern times. In 1983 UNESCO declared it a world heritage
site. In recent years it has become one
of the most famous tourist destinations in the world.
The
day had begun to brighten, but heavy fog limited our view to the immediate
surroundings. This wasn’t all bad
though. At each turn, massive stonework
emerged from the gloom. Walking through
Machu Picchu at dawn was eerie, but fascinating. Ancient stone towers crumbled around us as we
wandered through narrow, twisting passages.
I
used a map of the ruins to lead us towards Wayna
Picchu. Before long, we arrived at a
small meadow at the foot of an ancient temple.
There were llamas grazing here, and I didn’t let the lack of a tripod or
adequate light stop me from attempting some photographs. After that brief diversion we pressed on,
eager to summit the mountain that forms Machu Picchu’s famous backdrop.
We
passed the Ceremonial Rock and arrived at the Wayna
Picchu control station at 6:40. There we
joined the growing herd of hikers waiting to start up the mountain. I have a couple of regrets from our day at
Machu Picchu. One is that we didn’t take
more time exploring the ruins first thing that morning. The ruins were far more exhilarating then,
before the sun came up and the hordes arrived.
Instead, we spent 30 minutes hanging out. The guards didn’t let anyone through the gate
until right at 7. Even then, everyone
passing through had to sign a register.
We decided to let the young ones go first, knowing we’d be moving slowly
thanks to our illnesses. Because of
this, it was every bit of 7:15 before we finally got on the trail.
The
climb to Wayna Picchu started out downhill. A brief climb past a minor peak led to
another descent. This seemed like an odd
way to climb a mountain, but I shouldn’t have worried. After that second descent into a gap, it was
all uphill. We began the climb of Wayna Picchu proper, working our way up switchbacks and
ancient stone stairways. The climb was
steep, but not unreasonable. Several
stretches had cables bolted to the mountainside for added safety, but they
really weren’t necessary. This hike has
a reputation for being hazardous, but for the most part I found it to be
perfectly safe. The only exception was
the steep, slippery descent from the summit, but that was still to come.
The
climb was a grind, and we took a lot of short breaks on our ascent. This was humbling, as other hikers galloped
past us. Still, we had a long day ahead
of us, and we needed to pace ourselves.
Luckily, the fog began to slowly break up as we climbed. At each switchback more of the surrounding
mountains came into view. The sea of fog
ebbed and flowed, revealing a sheer canyon wall at one moment, and obscuring a
rugged peak the next. These teasing
views gave us plenty of excuses to take our time as we worked our way up the
mountain.
On
our way up we passed a junction with the loop trail that leads to the Temple of
the Moon. That trail starts at the
summit and returns to this point by a separate route that passes a couple of
additional ruins. Because our guided
tour was scheduled for 10:30, we didn’t have time to add this to our hike. Missing out on it was my other major regret
of the day. In hindsight, I would trade
the guided tour for the Temple of the Moon without hesitation.
We
resumed the climb, which became steeper towards the top. A bit below the summit we reached some ruins,
which were being excavated during our visit.
Now the breaking fog was revealing more distant peaks, as well as the
deep crevice of the canyon below. Now
each step seemed to bring a more breathtaking view. If we had arrived later in the day, we
would’ve seen Machu Picchu in all its glory as soon as we arrived. This way was far more dramatic. It was as if nature was performing a strip
tease, leading ever onwards.
We
climbed again, and passed through a natural tunnel in the rocks. A quick scramble up a ladder brought us to
the base of the summit. From there, we
scrambled up boulders to the top of the peak.
The experience was amazing despite the crowds. What would normally be a 360 degree view was
limited by a wall of fog. Still, the
show went on. The clouds obscuring the
ruins below slowly began to scatter.
Finally, Machu Picchu emerged from the murk. The revelation was breathtaking. I’ve seen many photos of the Lost City, but
none of them compared with this.
We
relaxed on the summit for a while. Wayna Picchu was a very difficult place to leave. We’d overcome a lot of hurdles to get
there. Still, the rest of Machu Picchu
beckoned. We didn’t want to miss out on
our guided tour. Christy headed down
first, knowing that I’d catch up to her.
I loitered for another 15 minutes or so, unable to pull myself
away. I waited until the last possible
moment before following.
I
hurried down, at least until I reached the top of the first staircase. The stairs were extremely steep, almost like
a ladder. Each step was barely wide
enough for my foot and coated in the slickest mud I’ve ever experienced. Ironically, there wasn’t a single safety
cable along this stretch of trail! I
worked my way down cautiously. By the
time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was concerned about reaching the main
gate by 10:30. I went into overdrive,
weaving my way through hikers and tourists descending at a more rational
pace.
I
passed Christy in the gap at the base of the peak. I continued my frantic pace though, as I
wanted to check out the short side trail to a minor sub-peak below Wayna Picchu. I reached
the side path after climbing out of the gap and hurried out to the end. From there, I was treated to a fine view of
the ruins in one direction and Wayna Picchu in the
other. I enjoyed that for about 60
seconds before dashing back to the main trail to chase down Christy once
again. I dodged hordes of hikers in the
10am group heading up the mountain before I found her at the Control
Station. We walked back through the
ruins at a more leisurely pace, and returned to the main gate at 10:25. This gave us a chance to use the bathroom,
which cost 1 Sol. We also took the opportunity
to store a backpack full of warm clothing for another 5 soles. By the time we accomplished all of that, it
was time to join our tour.
We
eventually found our group amid the hordes of tourists mingling near the
entrance. There we discovered that our
English-speaking guide was a no-show.
Our group, which was probably too big to begin with, was merged with
another. Once that got straightened out
we departed, eager to see the sights of Machu Picchu.
Our
herd moved out at the same time as a half a dozen others. Everyone headed in the same direction, too,
as the guided tours all seem to follow the same itinerary. We drifted along in the crowd, trying to keep
an eye on where our guide was. We rubbed
elbows with fellow travelers, but not in a good way. We did our best to keep from getting trampled
as we plodded along. As we walked, we
were subjected to more foreign languages than I’d ever heard before. In essence, our guide tour of The Lost City
had all of the charm of wandering around the Miami airport. And to think, we could’ve been enjoying The
Temple of Moon more or less by ourselves.
The
tour started with a climb up to The Watch House. The Watch House is a three-sided building overlooking
the city and the Inca Trail, which was the original route to Machu Picchu. From there, we enjoyed the classic postcard
view of the ruins and Wayna Picchu. Then we headed over to the Main Gate and
entered the city proper. We passed above
the terraced agricultural sector and visited the Sun Temple, the Temple of
Three Windows, an astronomical observatory, and The Sacred Rock. We then wandered through the residential
section, which includes a series of homes with thatched roofs and Inca
Baths.
I
wish I could provide more details about the content of the tour. Unfortunately, I missed a lot of it due to
the size of our group. One highlight of
the tour was seeing “Jacob” from the TV show lost:
I’m
not sure what he was doing at Machu Picchu, but frankly, it makes me a little
nervous.
Our
tour finished up around 1pm. We headed
out to the main gate to use the restroom and have a light lunch (food is not
allowed inside the ruins). Afterwards,
Christy was worn out, but we still had a few hours at our disposal. Christy had a nap in a sunny meadow while I
made my best effort to see the rest of Machu Picchu.
I
considered hiking up Machupicchu Mountain, but that
is a longer hike that would’ve taken the rest of the afternoon. Our guide from the previous evening had
discouraged it, too. Instead, I decided
to hike part of the Inca Trail. I had
missed out on hiking into Machu Picchu through the Sun Gate on the Inca Trail,
but there wasn’t anything to stop me from going the other direction. I climbed back up to The Watch House and
passed a pair of llamas grazing in a meadow.
After a few obligatory photos I followed the Inca Trail on a gradual
climb towards a pass on the flank of Machupicchu
Mountain.
The
trail exhibited remarkable construction, consisting of precisely placed
stonework. As I hiked, I enjoyed
frequent views back the way I came. The
ruins of Machu Picchu unfolded below me, while Wayna
Picchu towered beyond. Although the day
had been mostly cloudy, the sun took this opportunity to break through. A single broad sunbeam illuminated the ruins,
making them glow in the surrounding gloom.
It was a magical moment, but brief.
Before long the clouds closed back in.
Minutes later, thunder echoed off the surrounding peaks. I thought a storm was brewing, but the storm
passed without further excitement.
I
picked up the pace and continued up to Intipunku, the
Sun Gate. There were a few other hikers
here and along the trail, but overall this hike provided a welcome respite from
the crowds. I lingered at the Sun Gate
for a few minutes enjoying the views.
However, I knew that if I hustled I’d have enough time to squeeze in one
last hike. I hurried back down the Inca
Trail, eager to visit the Inca Bridge before our day ended.
I
passed the llama meadow and contoured around the flank of Machupicchu
Mountain. I picked up the trail to the
Inca Bridge, which is one of several original routes in and out of Machu
Picchu. This one is largely obsolete
these days though, as the Inca Bridge is no longer passable. The trail is a stone causeway built into the
side of a massive cliff, and the bridge is merely a handful of logs spanning a
deep chasm. It looks like something out
of an Indiana Jones movie, but you can’t get close to it. A tourist fell off the bridge several years
ago, and the authorities closed the trail leading up to it. This was a little disappointing, as the
steep, mossy path clinging to the cliff on the far side looked fascinating. To be honest though, I wouldn’t have mustered
up the courage to cross that bridge if it had been open. It looked terrifying.
I
spent a few minutes there before heading back.
On my return I took in more views down the canyon. Unfortunately there is massive hydroelectric
power plant there. The view of it really
clashed with my surroundings. More
interesting was running into several llamas heading up the trail towards the
bridge. This was a bit awkward, as the
trail is narrow. I got out of their way,
but they were still close enough to touch.
Thankfully they didn’t spit at me as they passed by. As they headed up the trail, I couldn’t help
but wonder exactly where they were going.
I
reached a grassy hillside overlooking the ruins and Wayna
Picchu. I relaxed there for a few
minutes to enjoy that classic view one last time. Then I headed down to the main gate, where
Christy was waiting for me. Machu Picchu
closes at 5, but we headed out at 4:30 as we didn’t want to miss out on the
last buses heading down the mountain.
Christy had enjoyed her relaxing afternoon, but I was glad I had
explored as much as I had. It was nice
to get away from the crowds for a couple of hours. Overall, the hikes to the Sun Gate and the
Inca Bridge were some of the biggest highlights of an eventful day. In fact, they were overshadowed only by Wayna Picchu, which was one of the biggest highlights of
the whole trip.
The
bus ride down was $7 each, which was rather pricey considering we only traveled
about 2 miles. Christy definitely wasn’t
interested in walking down though, and I didn’t blame her. Back in Agua Calientes
I walked up to the Hostal Pachacutec
and picked up our luggage. Unfortunately
we’d been forced to book separate hotel rooms, as our original hotel was full
when we tried to add a second night on short notice. I dragged everything down to the El Presidente and met Christy there. This was a nicer hotel, and we were given a
great room overlooking the river. We
opened all the windows and slept great that night listening to the constant
roar of the whitewater below.
After
checking in we took showers (which didn’t require climbing over the toilet to
get to). Then we headed out for a
celebratory dinner. We each had an
actual appetite for the first time in nearly a week and wanted to take
advantage of it. We headed over to Chez Maggie
and got a table on the sidewalk. We had
just ordered pizza and beer when we saw Jeff, Nicky, Luz, and Bonnie coming our
way. They had just returned from Machu
Picchu also, though we hadn’t seen them up there during the day. They joined us for a dinner, and we enjoyed a
wonderful evening with them.
Enjoying
our first cerveza in a couple of weeks inspired me to
write a song. I call it “The Gringo
Anthem”. It’s sung to the tune of “Exodus”
by Bob Marley. It goes like this:
“Cerveza!
“Donde es
el Bano?”
In
the original song, you replace “Exodus” with “Cerveza”
and “Movement of the people” with “Donde es el Bano?”
Ok,
so it needs a little work.
I’m
glad we finally got to see Machu Picchu, but I’m not sure if I’d do it
again. Christy already wants to return
to Peru to have another shot at the Inca Trail.
For me though, I’m just not sure it’s worth the cost and the
hassle. If I do go back, I’ll definitely
want to hike Wayna Picchu again. Next time though, I’m skipping the guided
tour and spending the whole day on the peak!
WHERE’S MY STUFF?
“That's
all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn't have so much
stuff, you wouldn't need a house. You could just walk around all the time.
A house
is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. You can see that when you're taking
off in an airplane. You look down, you see everybody's
got a little pile of stuff. All the little piles of stuff.
And when you leave your house, you gotta lock it up.
Wouldn't want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff. They always take
the good stuff. They never bother with that crap you're saving. All they want
is the shiny stuff. That's what your house is, a place to keep your stuff while
you go out and get...more stuff!
Sometimes
you leave your house to go on vacation. And you gotta
take some of your stuff with you. Gotta take about two big suitcases full of stuff, when you go on
vacation. You gotta take a smaller version of
your house. It's the second version of your stuff. And you're gonna fly all the way to Honolulu. Gonna
go across the continent, across half an ocean to Honolulu. You get down to the
hotel room in Honolulu and you open up your suitcase and you put away all your
stuff. "Here's a place here, put a little bit of stuff there, put some
stuff here, put some stuff--you put your stuff there, I'll put some
stuff--here's another place for stuff, look at this, I'll put some stuff
here..." And even though you're far away from home, you start to get used
to it, you start to feel okay, because after all, you do have some of your
stuff with you. That's when your friend calls up from Maui, and says,
"Hey, why don'tchya come over to Maui for the
weekend and spend a couple of nights over here."
Oh, no! Now what do I pack? Right, you've gotta pack
an even SMALLER version of your stuff. The third version of
your house. Just enough stuff to take to Maui for a coupla
days. You get over to Maui--I mean you're really getting extended now, when you
think about it. You got stuff ALL the way back on the mainland, you got stuff
on another island, you got stuff on this island. I
mean, supply lines are getting longer and harder to maintain. You get over to
your friend's house on Maui and he gives you a little place to sleep, a little
bed right next to his windowsill or something. You put your stuff up there. You got your
Visine, you got your nail clippers, and you put everything up. It takes about
an hour and a half, but after a while you finally feel okay, say, "All
right, I got my nail clippers, I must be okay." That's when your friend
says, "Aaaaay, I think tonight we'll go over the
other side of the island, visit a pal of mine and maybe stay over."
Aww, no.
NOW what do you pack? Right--you gotta pack an even
SMALLER version of your stuff. The fourth version of your
house. Only the stuff you know you're gonna
need. Money, keys, comb, wallet, lighter, hanky, pen, smokes,
rubbers and change. Well, only the stuff you HOPE you're gonna need.”
-
George
Carlin
We
overslept the next morning. It’s likely
that two pitchers of beer was a bit too much for people with challenged
digestive systems. Our tardiness caused
us to miss out on the free hotel breakfast.
We still had appetites though, and thought we might find something
better in town. We checked out, but
stored most of our luggage at the hotel, as our train wasn’t scheduled to
depart until that afternoon. Then we
roamed town in search of an IHOP. We
didn’t find one. In fact, we had trouble
finding a restaurant with a breakfast menu.
I guess the restaurants in Agua Calientes
don’t really focus on breakfast since most people eat at their hotels, or leave
early in the morning for the ruins.
We
finally found a place and scoped out the menu.
Ultimately we ordered an omelet, hashbrowns,
and chocolate pancakes to share. It
turns out that there was a bit of miscommunication with what we were trying to
order. The omelet was what we expected. However, the hashbrowns
turned out to be a big plate of French fries, and the chocolate pancakes ended
up being a giant chocolate cake. Hey
mom, are you getting this? We ate
chocolate cake for breakfast!
After
breakfast Christy went shopping while I took a walk. I headed back down the railroad tracks
towards Mandor, but stopped at the gardens a short
distance beyond town. There I paid about
$3 for a guided tour.
My
guide didn’t speak much English. In
fact, one of the few words he knew was “orchid”. The gardens had 15-20 native orchids blooming. During the rainy season there are many more in bloom.
The flowers I saw ranged from bizarre to beautiful, but everything was
fascinating. According to the pamphlet I
picked up, they have something there that is very similar to a Yellow Ladyslipper.
Unfortunately it was out of season and not blooming.
I
headed back to town and met Christy. Then
we headed up to Agua Calientes’ namesake hot springs. We paid about $3 to get in, plus a bit of
change to rent a locker to store some of our stuff. With that accomplished, we headed down to the
pools. The hot springs are developed,
meaning that bathing there is similar to hanging out in a heated swimming
pool. We found an appealing spot and
eased in. The view from there of the
cloud forest around us was great, and the horrid plague of flies we’d walked through
on the way in had disappeared The Bob
Marley on the stereo was pleasant, and easily qualified as the most enjoyable
music of the trip. Despite this, I
couldn’t seem to relax. After a few
minutes, I realized why. My stuff was
scattered across most of the western hemisphere.
At
that point, the only item in my direct possession was the shorts I was
wearing. My watch, glasses, locker key,
and towel were nearby, on one of the pool chairs. Some of my valuables, including my camera and
wallet, were stashed in the locker.
Meanwhile, my backpack, boots, and some clothing were in storage back at
the El Presidente.
Most of the rest of the luggage we’d brought to Peru was back at the
hotel in Cuzco. Except
for the duffel bag full of food and camping gear that was in storage at the
South American Explorers Clubhouse in Lima. Otherwise, the rest of our worldly
possessions were allegedly back at our house in North
Carolina (except for those items that the dog had eaten or the house sitter had
stolen while we were gone).
So,
I was feeling pretty strung out. Kind of
like a dog that had buried so many bones he could no longer remember where all
of them were.
I
was actually relieved when we left. We
walked back down to town and had a simple lunch at Govinda. Then we returned to the hotel to pick up our
luggage. From there, we walked back to
the train station, where we ran into the Brown’s again. They were on their way back to Cuzco as well.
We
had a pleasant train ride back to Ollantaytambo. We met some fellow travelers, including a
woman from New Zealand and a couple from Boston. The couple from Boston had just completed the
Inca Trail, which they described as “hard”.
In a truly bizarre coincidence, we discovered that the guy from Boston
had created several of the sculptures that grace the campus of Appalachian
State University, my alma mater.
We
disembarked in Ollantaytambo and found a guide
waiting with a sign with our name. He
led us to a bus that took us back to Cuzco.
Once in Cuzco we returned to the Hostal
Pension Alemana.
Later that night,, we met the Browns for a
final dinner at Pachapapa, on the Plaza de Armas. This meal was
the best we had in Cuzco. Of course, the
fact that we actually had something of an appetite must’ve made the food taste
better.
We
went to bed shortly after dinner, as we had another early flight the next
morning. On Friday we’d fly back to
Lima, where we would spend the afternoon.
That evening, we’d take an overnight bus to Huaraz. That city would be our base of operations for
the remainder of our trip. Huaraz is located in the Cordillera Blanca, the highest
mountain range in Peru and one of the highest in the world (in fact, it’s
second only to the Himalayas). After 2
weeks in Peru, we were ready for the mountains!
Back to Peru
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