The day after our souvenir-buying spree, we decided to take a taxi to the furthest-from-Cusco of one of four ruins. It was only 9-11 kilometres away (depending who you ask). Surely we could walk back (one day of feeling good, and I get grand ideas).
Now, taxis in Peru can be irritating as all get-out, but when you want one, man, it’s there. Our first encounter with honking taxis was in Nasca, which doesn’t get anywhere as many tourists as Cusco. We couldn’t figure out WHY the taxis in Nasca were honking all the freaking time! Once we were in Cusco, we realized that every time a taxi sees a potential fare, they honk. The potential fare could be a person trying to flag them down (except I don’t think you ever have to flag down a taxi in Cusco, as they have such an eagle-eye on their surroundings), or a person walking down the street that may or may not look like a tourist. We learned to drown out the sound of the honking taxis. When we needed a taxi to drive us to Tambomachay, the honking suddenly didn’t seem so bad!
M.L. "giving perspective" by doing one of his goofy poses at Tambomachay, an ancient Inca ceremonial bath site.The fountains still running with water. They were beautiful.
We climbed the hills across from the ceremonial baths. Way behind me, in the distance, you can glimpse the second ruin we visited this day, Puca Pucara. (No worries if you can't see it, a closer shot is coming).While on the hill in the above photo, we noticed a cave above the ruins across the way. So of course M.L. had to climb up there, too. While trying to find the cave, we passed (or rather we were passed by) an old woman herding her cattle and donkeys. You can glimpse her hat just above the rear of the cow or steer or whatever it is. Something with horns.
We walked to Puca Pucara from Tambomachay. It was maybe 5 minutes away. "Easy-Peasy!" we thought. "No problem walking all the way back to Cusco." Of course, the little gasps of breath from being at 11,000 feet were already getting to us. But, other than a few tour vans, we saw—for once!—no taxis. Our taxi had left to find another fare after dropping us off at Tambomachay.
Puca Pucara (aka Pukapukara) is a small fortress that was probably used to store supplies or maybe as a guard post. No one really knows. It’s a nice spot to hang around awhile. However, then we had to walk (so our guidebook told us) 90 – 120 minutes to the next site closest to Cusco, Q’Enko. We tried to walk! We walked through a small village, but the altitude was wearing on us (and our wimpiness, I’m sure!). We made a pact that if a taxi drove by honking at us, we would stop him. And so we did! We hopped a taxi and caught a ride to what we thought was the entrance to the Q’Enko ruin. The sign said Q’Enko. But, basically, we were dropped off in the middle of nowhere. We walked and walked and walked. Asked some directions off some musicians that had just popped out of their own taxi. They thought we were looking for something else entirely, or possibly they were just having fun at our expense. Finally, we realized we were on a dirt road amidst fields with nothing vaguely resembling an Incan site, except, lo and behold, there was a guy lounging against the fence beside a dozen horses. With our limited Spanish, we managed to get out of him that we had basically walked in the wrong direction. So we returned the way we’d come (after tipping the horse guy for his directions), waved to the guy who’d given us the wrong directions, then eventually found the back way into the Q’Enko ruins.
The Q’Enko ruins are a bunch of huge rocks that might have been used for ritual ceremonies and/or sacrifices. The big huge rocks create an interior “cave.” You can climb around inside the caves and imagine where blood might have flowed if your throat was cut in sacrifice.
Steve is one of the "caves" created by the huge rocks at Q'Enko.
After Q’Enko, we walked to Sacsayhuamán, a positively HUGE set of ruins that is still being excavated near Cusco. It was quite amazing. Sacsayhuamán is pronounced sort of like “saxywoman,” so a few times you’ll hear the joke “sexy woman.”
Peruvian children sliding down granite hills at Sacsayhuamán.An massive site! A military fortress or religious temple? No one really knows. Apparently, it took nearly 100 years to build.The zigzag shape of the walls reminded us of a huge snake.That's ONE rock. We're all lovey-dovey to show the size perspective (okay, for other reasons, too).Because Steve is instatiably curious, he just HAD to stick his camera into one of the carved drains in the huge rock walls. So you're not looking at the inside of an elephant's trunk or someone's intestines, I assure you.Steve at Sacsayhuamán.
You can catch great views of Cusco from the hills around these ruins. There’s also a giant white statue of Christ a fair hike away. I just could not handle another uphill hike at 11,000 – 12,000 feet above sea level, so we hired a pretty beat-up looking taxi with a young driver to take us to the Christo Blanco, then wait there while we had a look, then drive us back to Cusco.
If you’re old enough to have ever watched an epsiode of The Streets of San Francisco, that’s what our drive back to Cusco felt like, a car chase through those streets! Especially once we reached the city. Because we’d asked him to drive us to the Plaza de Armas. To do that, he had to drive down narrow, steep streets, dodging tourists and vendors. But we survived. This was the last night we spent in Cusco. A well-deserved “rest,” if you can call it that, after all our hiking at Machu Picchu.
We were finished the 3rd leg of our 4-leg trip. Next stop, Lake Titicaca near Puno!
Our train trip from Aguas Calientes back to Cusco was uneventful. It took a few stops and transfers to accommodate route changes as a result of the 2010 flooding, but we made it back to our tour hotel for one final night without incident. Unless you count my health. Everything came to a head that rest day back in Cusco, and I’m sure the return to an 11,000 foot altitude didn’t help. I basically laid in bed for the rest of the day. I do believe we emerged at some point to visit the bar and get some snacks there. I had a little pizza that was pretty tasty, but My Liege had an awesome spicy beef appetizer. Oh, yeah, sure, the first time he orders beef and I don’t it’s amazing. I wanted to eat all of his appetizer and let him have my pizza, but he didn’t go for it.
The next morning we changed hotels. I was a little nervous about the switch, because we’d been in 5-star hotels since first arriving in Cusco, and all through the Sacred Valley and Aguas Calientes, and because those hotels came with the tour we’d booked I could blame any dissatisfaction on the tour company. Not so easy to do when you’ve scoured the Internet and hotel review sites and booked the hotel yourself. And we were dropping down to three stars. Well, I tell you, it was a fantabulous change. We stayed at the Hotel Rumi Punku on an obscure street with a difficult-to-pronounce name. The street was nothing to write home about. Narrow, with construction or more probably renovations going on across the road. In Cusco, when they’re renovating or simply don’t want you to see what’s going on on the other side of the street, they cover the building in question with huge sheets of corrugated tin. So, a narrow street, and the door to our hotel was quite literally a hole in the wall. But! A hole in a wall that still had original Inca stonework. And, like most “a hole in the wall” places in Cusco, the entrance opened up into a beautiful little hotel with multiple courtyards, a very pleasant staff, and a decent breakfast.
The Hotel Rumi Punki. Three stars, but I far preferred it to the 5 star hotel we'd just come from. It didn't have a restaurant (although breakfast is served), but restaurants abound in the area, and for the difference in price, the savings we incurred, it was definitely a worthwhile move. When I booked, I went "all out" and asked for a king-sized bed. We had a fantastic, new-looking bathroom that never lacked for hot water.
Our room was very quiet, but we did have some noise. Like what sounded like very loud firecrackers going off early in the morning. It was nearing the end of May, and some festival or another was rapidly approaching. Wake up, wake up! We didn’t mind.
We had two free days in Cusco where we intended to just relax and do some touring on our own. The first thing we did was an Inca Stone Walking Tour. We had a map (without a listed route, we just flew by the seat of our pants) and our Frommer’s Peru (recommended), and off we went. We discovered this one amazing street filled with Inca walls. M.L got in trouble for nearly touching one of the stones! We realized a little policeman was stationed across the narrow street solely to blow his whistle at people like my dh.
After the whistle-blowing, M.L. behaved. We saw many amazing rocks in this wall. All tight Inca construction with Spanish buildings on top. The conquistadors recognized good foundations when they saw them. No reason to destroy the Inca foundations, just the Inca buildings.
Before heading out on our walking tour, we scoured laundries around the Hotel Rumi Punku and negotiated a fantastic rate from a pleasant young woman who delivered our laundry back to us exactly when she said she would (well, we had to pick it up from her). Laundry facilities abound in Cusco. You just have to do some exploring and decide if you want your stuff handwashed and hung to dry, or you prefer machines. We wanted machines. We liked our girl so much that we stopped her from negotiating her price down, down, down and I think we even gave her a sucker (we’d discovered these cherry suckers with gum in the middle called Globbopops, and we consumed them by the bagful. They really helped with the after-effects of my health issues, which were rapidly slowing, I’m pleased to report).
We stumbled upon this celebration in the Plaza de Armas. When the cause exists, they'll take one of their statues out of a church and parade it around. We had no clue why they were doing this today, but it was fun to watch.
For some reason, this marching band in the parade felt compelled to spray shaving cream on the crowd.
My camera card had filled up, so I went and sat on a park bench to change it while M.L. hung around the parade. I sat on a bench with room for three people, but an old woman working her worry beads was already there. I assumed when I sat it would just be her and me. Within minutes, an elderly gentleman showed up. I thought he was with her. But when he sat down, he began talking to me. In Spanish. We did pretty good, considering M.L. had the phrasebook and I was just getting by on the few words I’d learned our, so far, 2.5 weeks there. I learned the man’s name was Ernesto and that he lived in the mountains and had come to Cusco for whatever celebration was occurring or would occur soon. Later, I introduced him to M.L., who felt bereft that we didn’t get a picture of me with this friendly old guy. But I’d rather have the conversation than the picture. It was the highlight of my day.
Two main churches are on the Plaza de Armas. Shops and restaurants circle the square as well. I don't think I ever got a shot of the big cathedral we toured together, but I walked through this church on my own while M.L. rested in the square. I love the dark clouds hovering in the background. I told M.L. it was the ghosts of the Conquistadors.
You could climb the bell tower and wave out at the crowds. M.L. told me he would watch for me. So there I am, waving and waving and waving, while he's chatting up a Spanish woman sitting with him on his bench! I was nearly ready to climb back down when he finally saw me and snapped a few piccies. Men!After a day of shopping for souvenirs, I was becoming more and more accustomed to "Peruvian Disneyland," so I did something I swore I would not do. I paid to have my picture taken with these two girls and the sweet little lambs. They said I could pay whatever I felt was right, but after I paid them, they immediately asked for more! It was all smiles and chuckles. Of course they want to get as much as they can. This is their job, walking around asking tourists if they want their picture taken. The least I could do was oblige once!
Machu Picchu deserves two full days of pictures and anecdotes. I went skinny on the anecdotes on Monday because, really, the pictures say it all. But today I’ll introduce you to…Cindiana Jones! That’s what I felt like exploring the Inca sanctuary/citadel that was once considered the “Lost City of the Incas.” (Today, other less-accessible sites are more likely to claim the title). We had a full day at Machu Picchu, and we intended to make the most of it. Like I mentioned in a previous post, we had dreams of arriving at Machu Picchu early enough to make it into one of the two groups (200 people each at 7 a.m. and 10 a.m.) to climb Huayna Pichhu, the mountain in the background of the most famous of Machu Picchu photos (like mine—see back to this post). (Well, I guess I can’t claim my pictures are famous, but the view is!) We spoke to our guide about it the night before (which was torrential-downpourish). He pretty much talked us out of it, in that it became very evident very quickly that he did not want to meet us at 4 a.m. and get a taxi or whatever to the gates to wait in line and claim our spots to climb Huayna Picchu. He told us that the “sunrise” that everyone always wants to see at Machu Picchu didn’t occur until 7 a.m. anyway. The sun rose long before 7 a.m., but not in the specific area to which he referred. Oh, well, it was cloudy anyway. But not rainy. We couldn’t figure out why the GAP representative (the tour company we used) who met us in Lima before we flew to Cuzco told us to let our guide know we wanted to climb the mountain and he would make it happen told us that—and then he didn’t. Initially, we weren’t very impressed with him because of that. He made up for it by providing us with an excellent tour of Machu Picchu. And considering how exhausted I was (not being in the best health at this point) after eight hours of climbing all over the terraces, I can’t imagine how worn out I would have become climbing Huayna Picchu. But a part of me will always be a little disappointed that our guide did not present the opportunity to us, especially after we asked.
Yes, I’m whining. I couldn’t climb Huayna Picchu, so I snapped my zoom lens onto my camera and shot this close-up instead:
Yes, that could have been me huffing and puffing my way up the mountain. But it wasn't. Instead, I made do with other explorations.
Moi in the quarry. Machu Picchu wasn't finished when the Spanish conquistadors showed up, so these huge boulders are still waiting to get carved into more amazing structures.There are llamas all over Machu Picchu. If you have llamas, you don't need lawnmowers. The llamas ARE the lawnmowers.Our guide told us there were plenty of places we could hike to at Machu Picchu instead of Huayna Picchu. One hike was to the reconstruction of the Inca Bridge. That's what Pte. Inca means. "Inca Bridge."I slapped on my zoom lens again so I could take close-ups. I took this picture on the trail to the Inca Bridge. You can see the reconstructed wooden bridge built off a sheer cliff face. I swear it was like over 1000 feet down if you fell. And I'm afraid of heights! Before our guide left us to mosey around Machu Picchu on our own, he assured me that the path to the Inca Bridge lookout point had "walls." Uh huh. Um, yeah.
If you google Inca Bridge, you’ll find that there are two types of such structures, one being a rope bridge and the other, as shown above, being a trunk bridge. This bridge was another route into Machu Picchu. Why not just continue the path, you ask? Why leave a gap for a bridge? Because, if you have a trunk (as in tree trunks) bridge, you can easily destroy it. Comes in handy when your enemies are chasing you.
Before we could walk the path to the Inca Bridge look-out (there was a wimpy wood gate preventing you from going any further. IOW, no one actually gets to walk on the bridge anymore), we had to sign a guestbook of sorts. Why do you think that is? We were assured that “tourists never fall off the cliff.” Yet you need to sign the book before you continue on (unless the guy at the desk isn’t there; then you might not realize you need to sign the book). You sign when you enter the path and you sign when you successfully emerge again. If you don’t “sign out,” what does that mean? Are you camping on the narrow path? Have you Cindiana-Jonesed your way across the bridge? Or have you taken a tumble down a 1900-foot cliff? (I just googled the height). I’ll let YOU decide.
Yeah, that wall really extends all the way to the look-out point for the Inca Bridge! Um, not. We reached a very scary portion of the path (for the height-impaired, at any rate.) There I was, paralyzed by fear while the dh went forth without me. The path narrows right after the point where he took this picture. I swear, it couldn't have been more than eighteen inches wide. With no wall! Although there was a cable of sorts hooked into the curved rock that you could hang onto to get around the corner.
So there I stood while other people passed me by. Moments passed. Moments and minutes and more moments passed. Finally, M.L. returned. “Cindy, you just gotta see this!” Something to that effect emerged from his mouth. Lucky for him, I had already decided that I had to conquer my fear. I finally conquered my fear of roller coasters that flip you upside-down while chaperoning Youngest Son’s band trip to Disneyland years ago. I could do this! So when M.L. returned, I agreed. I would do it. But no way could I have done it without his help.
He took my daypack from me, wearing his on his back and mine on his front. Then he went ahead of me and held my right hand with his left while I gripped the rope-cable thingy with my left hand and stared at the cliff the rope-cable thingy was stuck into with my left eye. My right eye was closed, because there was zero wall at that point and if I had ANY chance of seeing how far up I was, I knew I’d get vertigo and destroy myself.
But I made it! Cindiana Jones!
Evidence that I made it. Rosy-cheeked evidence, LOL. The red cheeks are from physical exertion and sheer fear! I always get very red cheeks from exercise, and M.L. and I had been hiking around for a fair while.
Someone else took the above picture. No way was I attempting self-portraiture with only that little fence to protect us from falling onto/entering the rest of the path to the bridge.
Can you see how skinny the path is beyond the look-out point? Those Incas were crazy!
A close-up of the reconstructed bridge. I'm pretty sure M.L. would have tried it if he were allowed. He's crazy that way. I'm not!
On the way back, M.L. still carried both daypacks and went in front of me again. This time he held onto my left hand while I gripped the rope-cable thingy with my right. My LEFT eye was closed (the eye closest to the drop-off cliff) while my right eye was firmly glued to the rock the rope-cable thingy was sunk into.
While climbing around the less frequently visited parts of the ruins, M.L. discovered this amazing animal. He'd never seen anything like it. I wasn't with him when he found it, but he insisted I had to go back with him. We kept approaching this strange creature, part rabbit, part squirrel, getting closer and closer while M.L. took pictures. Another tourist, an American, was as enthralled as we were. He took tons of pictures, too. Later, we discovered the animal isn't a rarity, after all. It's a chinchilla!
On our way out of Machu Picchu for the day, M.L. "encouraged" me to pet a llama. By this point, we'd walked around the ruins completely at least twice, leaving the gates to eat lunch and visit the bathroom (you had to pay for toilet paper), and then entering again. We fell asleep that night utterly exhausted.
Out of everywhere we went in Peru, Machu Picchu is the one spot I would consider visiting again. Not because I didn’t enjoy the other places, like Nasca and Huancayo and Lake Titicaca, but because it’s a lot easier to get to than the 3 others. Well, I could be convinced to take the train to Huancayo again. However, other train rides occur in other parts of South America, like the Devil’s Nose in Ecuador, so I probably wouldn’t duplicate the train to Huancayo again. The only thing that would bother me about returning to Machu Picchu is that I don’t know if seeing the ruins a second time would have the same effect as the first. But if we were traveling with friends and they insisted we make that one stop again with them, I could be convinced. It was that beautiful and surreal.
Finally, I’m back to posting about Peru! My apologies to those who were following my anecdotes and pictures only to get left hanging as soon as My Liege and I reached Machu Picchu. If you need a refresher, here’s a link to my last post on the subject. If you’d like to follow our travels from the beginning, check out the sidebar and then scroll dowwwwwwn, way dowwwwwwwwwwn (and I’ll call Rusty—sorry, Canadian childhood reference) to “Categories” and then click on “Peru 2010.” That will take you to the Archives for all the Peru posts. Or be lazy and click this link to get to the first Peru post.
For a quick primer on Machu Picchu, check out Wikipedia. I have so many piccies, I’m concentrating on those.
Above, an overview of the terraces and residential sections (minus roofs). See those triangle-shaped peaks? Thatched roofs went on top.One of the coolest things about Machu Picchu is the fog that rolls and wisps around the site, literally almost like a live thing. It took my breath away. You can see it here just starting to creep in on the right.The fog reminded me of a cat. Slinking in, then slinking out again. It moved fast!
The clouds and mist swooping over the panoramic view of Huayna Picchu, the biggest peak on the Machu Picchu site.See what I mean? It was just surreal. One minute there, the next gone again.The view from inside a bedroom for a very important person. I think it was for a princess, when she visited the sanctuary. Her bed was carved out of rock, and this was the view that greeted her when she woke in the morning. Steve on the right by the "crappy" Inca wall, and our guide, Wilmington, on the left by the "good" Inca wall. Why such perfect construction on the left and not-as-stellar construction on the right? Because nobility and royalty either lived in the rooms walled in on the left, or the buildings were used for ceremonial purposes. The wall on the right was either "just" a wall or a wall for a building without ceremonial or religious purposes. In Machu Piccu, wall construction = status.More excellent Inca construction, and an example of the thatched roofs (not an original roof, of course!)In the mood for a little human sacrifice? Step inside!Close-up of wall construction shown in previous photo. Isn't that crazy?
I’ve struggled with bouts of insomnia since my early twenties while I was at university. It’s not unusual in my family. Two sisters and my mom suffer from it. I think my grandmother suffered, too. After awhile, you get used to it. I learned over the years that my insomnia is usually hormone-related. And now that I’m, um, approaching a certain stage in life, it’s getting worse. Whereas before I could generally predict when I’d have insomnia, now it’s a bit trickier.
In the spring, I mentioned my lack of sleep to my M.D. He gave me a prescription that, quite against his intentions, made me stay awake even more than normal—I just felt this weird brain buzz while I was awake. So I went on my merry (sometimes not-so-merry) sleep deprived way, bought a face mask for my trip to Peru with My Liege and ordered some most excellent ear plugs off the Internet (sometimes the dh, um, mildly snores). In Peru I was so exhausted from hiking and jet lag that I didn’t have much trouble sleeping, but when I came home the problem began again. I went back to my doctor. He prescribed something different. I asked if I could take just half a pill instead of a full one if I wanted. He said, “By all means.” My idea was to take as little of the sleeping aid as possible.
So I tried out the new pill. Half a pill. It worked well! No staying awake all night with a weird brain buzz. Now, some nights, I take a whole pill, other nights half a pill, other nights no pill at all. But I’ve discovered I simply can not do without the ear plugs. I’m such a light sleeper that I need “de-sensitization,” is the only way I can describe it. The sleep mask can also help in this regard, especially when the moon is shining through the blinds or it’s a time of year when the sun rises far too early (my dh always rises far too early—5:30 a.m. is a late start for him).
So, Sunday night I went to see Eat, Pray, Love with Claudia, her mom and sister, and a bunch of other women. Enjoyed the movie immensely. Although I thought the Julia Roberts character was a little slow in learning her lessons. I guess you could say I’m not much of a searcher, so I lose patience with searchers. When I came home, I was nicely worn out and thinking about dropping off at 9:30. Then My Liege retired early, and I got suckered into watching my recordings of Mad Men and Rubicon. I knew then I might be in trouble. If I’m tired at 9:30 p.m., the worst thing I can do is not listen to my body but instead watch TV until 11:45 p.m. But I couldn’t resist Mad Men, and so I set myself up for a bad sleep night.
I figured, hormonally, it was a night for an entire sleeping pill. So I got ready for bed, put in my ear plugs, and swallowed that little white capsule of mercy. And did not sleep a wink. Then I realized it was an ear plugs + entire pill + sleep mask night. But I could not find my sleep mask! My Liege was snoring softly beside me at this point. He’s a very deep sleeper. It’s not wise to wake him up, because he might mistake you for a Great War sniper and strangle you. I keep my sleep mask with my ear plugs in the top drawer of my night stand, which also holds the “top level” of my To Be Read pile. So there I am rummaging about in the drawer, getting up and going to the en suite in case I’d left the sleep mask in there, stressing about taking another 1/2 a pill to make up for lack of sleep mask, and realizing TV + my hormones = dangerous mix. I did succumb to another 1/2 pill, which I’ve never done before. But I was getting desperate! I hate taking “extra,” because then all I can think of until I fall asleep is Michael Jackson and his “milk” or Heath Ledger. You know how these things go. The pills weren’t working, which meant I NEEDED MY DAMN SLEEP MASK. I NEEDED MY DAMN SLEEP MASK NOW!!!
I realized I must have knocked the sleep mask off my head and under the bed the last time I used it. But I rummaged through the holes in our headboard to the floor beneath the bed and could not find the mask! I rummaged, all in the dead of dark, in my night stand drawer, took out every pair in my huge collection of ear plugs and placed them on the floor, took out all the books in the night stand and placed THEM on the floor—all to no avail. Meanwhile, My Liege continued snoring softly, oblivious.
At this point, I realized I had no choice. I had to find a flashlight. So I crept into the kitchen, found my tiny flashlight, realized the kids had left the lights on in the basement and didn’t lock the door, which had come partway open, leaving us vulnerable to thieves and killer bees (see? there was a reason for my insomnia!), so I closed and locked it. Checked the mini-flashlight to make sure it worked, flashed on the beam, then covered it with my hand while I crept back into the bedroom. I would not wake My Liege! Not I!
I did not trip on the ear plug collection, crafty of the tiptoeing was I. I got on my knees and shone the beam under the bed. THERE IT WAS! My sleep mask. Of course, in the middle of the floor thankfully against the wall beneath the king-sized bed. I could not believe that I was rummaging around like this with a flashlight and still my husband slept soundly. I could have robbed him blind (but tiptoe outside the bedroom window, and he’s up in a snap—I didn’t wake him because he trusts me implicitly, awwwww). I couldn’t reach the sleep mask by stretching under the bed, so I had to get back onto the mattress and flash the light down behind the headboard…right beside my husband. THERE IT WAS!! My sleep mask! I stretched and stretched and stretched—and then I reached it. Huge sigh of relief.
It’s only a crappy little travel sleep mask I bought on the spur of the moment for Peru. But as soon as I put it on (well, it was 2 a.m. by this point), the sleeping pills kicked in and I sacked out until 7:30 a.m., 90 minutes past my usual wake up these days.
Now it’s 8:15 p.m. Monday night, and I’ve learned my lesson. I’m posting this blog, HOPING that writing it hasn’t spun my brain into overdrive again like watching Mad Men and Rubicon did, and I’m hightailing it to bed.
Aguas Calientes is also known as Machu Picchu Pueblo, which basically means “town of Machu Picchu.” On Day 13 of our travels, we woke at our hotel in the Sacred Valley eager to get to the train that would take us to Machu Picchu. We had decided against hiking the Inca Trail. We’d actually decided this a year earlier while researching our trip. You can’t just decide to hike the Inca Trail on the spur of the moment, because it’s not something you can do on your own. You need to go on an organized tour, and only a certain number of people are allowed to begin the trek each day. Also, hiking the Inca Trail takes 3-5 days. That would have consumed a big chunk out of our 3 weeks. We most definitely would have been forced to chuck one of the four legs of our trip. I asked the DH during planning, and he didn’t seem to care about doing the trek. I cared. I didn’t want to do it! We were in a bad car accident 19 years ago this summer, and I’ve suffered neck and back and hip problems since. Honestly, I recovered from the car accident long ago. I didn’t have therapy of any kind for a solid year. But then I started writing consistently…and of course I aged (it’s a curse). I presently go to massage therapy every other week so I can do things like paint the deck and run with the dog and work at a computer. I couldn’t imagine hiking the Inca trail without my very own personal massage therapist!
Pre-car accident, I would have done it. However, I was younger than 30 pre-car accident, too. I like to think that pre-40 I would have wanted to hike the trail, too. But who am I kidding? I’m not an athlete! And I thought that people carried their own packs on the trail. They don’t. Peruvian porters carry the tents and food, etc. The porters set up camp and cook for you. The trekkers carry their cameras or whatever else they want in small day packs. Typicaly, in Canada, this is not one’s idea of “hiking” a trail. Or so we liked to tell ourselves whenever we overheard others congratulating themselves on making the trek. Oh, yeah, carry your own stuff instead of making some little Peruvian guy do it and THEN we’ll talk. (Yeah, I know, sour grapes, because I’m decrepit).
We met many people in Peru who had hiked the Inca Trail, including a couple in their 60s. Cusco is at about 11,000 feet elevation. However, Machu Picchu is at about 8000 feet elevation. The trek goes up and down, up and down, and then you finally emerge with (if you want) a dawn view of Machu Picchu. However, watching the sun rise over Machu Picchu can also be tricky…because there are so many clouds drifting around the sanctuary. More on that in a bit.
The train to Machu Picchu takes about 90 minutes. The train crawls! It crawls because the scenery is so spectacular. It’s hard to take good scenery pictures out a train window, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
Because of the floods earlier this year, the train to Machu Picchu started further up the line than normal (they were still repairing the rails). At one time, it ran out of Cusco. In the mid-Seventies, my parents took the train from Cusco to Aguas Calientes. But now it’s faster to bus tourists to the train start point.
We were picked up at our hotel and driven to a shuttle bus in the new part 0f Ollantaytambo. The shuttle bus took us to the train station. From there, we caught the train.
The river that flooded early in the year, view from the train station. When our train was ready, we walked down to where you can see folks walking on the road. This was also where you could watch the porters and trekkers start out on their Inca Trail treks.Looking out the window of our train. Repairs from flood damage were still occurring. We saw many stretches of broken tracks before we boarded the train as well.One of the many ruins we passed during the train ride to Aguas Calientes. Honestly, there are so many, it's feels like they're in some people's back yards.
We reached Aguas Calientes without incident (no surprise floods!) and settled into our hotel, the very delightful Inkaterra Hotel. This place was like something out of Swiss Family Robinson. It was gorgeous. We had a very private room, the grounds were expansive, with a good restaurant (meals included, but not drinks), and birds and flora and fauna abounded. Honestly, we could not have afforded to stay at the Inkaterra if not for our tour, which included 5-star hotels (better price through a tour). Every other hotel we stayed in on this tour—in Lima, Cusco, and the Sacred Valley—was part of the Casa Andina Private Collection chain. That chain was…okay. The hotels themselves were very, very nice. But our rooms were the, um, bottom of the scale, shall we say, for 5-star hotels. I wouldn’t call the rooms themselves anything special. Except for at the Inkaterra. It was like a little piece of paradise to return to after a long day of walking around Machu Picchu (we did 8 hours of nearly solid walking).
Our room at the Inkaterra hotel in Aguas Calientes. I slept well that night!
We had no idea that meals were included in the hotel cost when we arrived, so that was a pleasant surprise. As I’ve mentioned, drinks aren’t included, and if you’re a big drinker, you gotta watch out. Because when you check out of the Inkaterra, they tack on a hefty “donation” for the upkeep of the birds (which, honestly, could fly away if they wanted) and flora and fauna. The “donation” is a percentage of whatever you spent on booze and wine. The “donation” is voluntary, but you don’t know that if you don’t ask. If you receive your bill and are the type to just pay it without reading the fine print, you might think there’s no way out of this rather hefty surcharge. There is. You can choose not to donate…and feel like a cheapskate. We chose not to donate, because we had been leaving very nice tips and didn’t realize tipping wasn’t expected. We donated to our waiters instead of the birds and flora and fauna. I know, we’re bad.
To be honest, we gave the hotel a little extra. But not the 25% or whatever it was they tacked onto your bar bill.
I’m sure you can find your own Trip Tip! in there somewhere. I don’t have to spell it out for you, do I? Oh, all right.
Trip Tip! Read the fine print. Ask for translation of the fine print if necessary. Go ahead and feel like a cheapskate if you’re not comfortable with the fine print. It’s okay!
After a very nice lunch, we rested and then walked into Aguas Calientes. It started to rain. It rained and rained. It rained like Oregon-coast rain. Yes, we were in the rain forest. It was pretty hard to miss. We were told that the rain was “unusual” for the time of year (3rd week of May). We did get a teensy depressed that our visit to Machu Picchu the following morning would be marred by rain. We borrowed umbrellas from the hotel and went to bed telling ourselves that at least we could check out the amazing Inca drainage systems (except we’d already checked them out at Ollantaytambo).
We had a meeting at around 7 in the evening with our guide. We told him we wanted to go to Machu Picchu early, so we could watch the sunrise. He assured us that the sun rise didn’t occur until 7 a.m., and besides, the first bus to Machu Picchu didn’t leave until 6 a.m. Truth be told, you can watch the sun rise earlier over Machu Picchu (just not in the specific location to which our guide was referring), but you had to be standing in line at the gates at something like 4 a.m. for the privilege. If you wanted to hike Huayna Picchu, the famous peak you’ll see in the photos below, you also had to line up at 4 a.m. When my parents visited Machu Picchu in the mid-Seventies, you didn’t have to get up at 4 a.m. and you didn’t have to stand in line. That’s because you were one of a handful of people there. Now, in high season (which was just coming up, luckily we missed it), there’s something like 3000 tourists a day. Peruvian Disneyland!
The road the 6:30 a.m. bus traveled to get us to the gates of Machu Picchu. You can walk the road at 4 a.m. if you're a keener. That way, you can get in the line to climb Huayna Picchu. Only two groups of people are allowed to climb Huayna Picchu each day. The first group of 200 starts the hike at 7 a.m. and the second group of 200 starts at 10:00 a.m.
By the time we arrived at the gates to Machu Picchu (where you could show your passport and get a stamp, which made it feel even more like Peruvian Disneyland, but who cares?), the two groups had already been filled. We were a bit surprised to learn this…even though I’d been told by friends and had read about it. We’d hoped to be part of the 10 a.m. group allowed to hike Huayna Picchu and felt that our guide had fed us a bit of erroneous information, because his idea of “sunrise” and OUR idea of “sunrise” (i.e. it’s dark and then the sun rises) were two different things. HIS idea of sunrise was the sun had already arisen but hadn’t risen over a specific point at Machu Picchu. At first we figured the guy just didn’t want to get up at 4 a.m. to accompany us. In retrospect, he didn’t want to walk up that road that we traveled by bus! And I can’t say that I blame him.
But guess what? It wasn’t raining! It had started raining two or three days before we arrived in Aguas Calientes. We didn’t have a hot day at Machu Picchu, but we didn’t have a rainy, either. Considering we thoroughly explored the place for 8 hours with a very short lunch break (we had the guide for 2 hours and the rest we did on our own), we had the perfect weather. And the clouds were covering the guide’s version of the “sunrise,” anyway. So there. Even if we’d hiked up to the gates at 4 a.m., there was no sun to watch rise!
The "postcard" view of Machu Picchu. The peak in the background is Huayna Picchu. Considering I was just beginning to recover from my health issues, it's probably a very good thing I didn't get to the gates early enough to line up to climb it! As it was, we had to climb tons of steps to get to this point.Here's another of Steve, just because he's cute.
Another way to ensure you’re at Machu Picchu early is to stay at the Machu Picchu Sanctuary Lodge. It’s right outside the gates. It’s VERY expensive, and, honestly, with the number of tourists hanging around outside the Lodge (at the gates) all day long, I’m not sure how pleasant your stay would be. I’ve since talked to another writer who did stay at the Sanctuary Lodge specifically so she and her husband could watch the sun rise over Machu Picchu. But! The clouds covered the sun.
I’d stay at the Inkaterra and take the bus up the winding road again in a Peruvian minute.
Tons of pictures! But this post is way too long. We’ll get back to it next week. Adios!
