Hola Familia y Amigos y Feliz Ano Nuevo!
In the spirit of our sense of adventure, Maggie and I signed us up months ago to forgo taking the train all the way to Machu Picchu and, instead, hike the Inka Express Trail, a smaller version of the full four day hike whose ascents and descents cover 26 miles and elevations range between 6,000 and 13,700 feet. Ours, a mere six hours, six miles and 6,000-8,900 feet. Four of the six of us made this trek, all of us boarding the 7:40 a.m. Peru Rail train in Ollantaytambo, traveling along the Vilcanota (Willkanuta, in Quechuan) River, the downstream portion of the Urubamba, exiting the Valle Sagrado (Sacred Valley), riding on narrow gauge tracks, looking out of the sky light windows of our train car at snow-capped peaks. Chugging along, our guide pointed out the entrance to the full Inka trail at one point, and after an hour’s travel, the train started slowing, signaling our proximity to the middle of nowhere, KM 104, where we would jump with our backpacks and poles, down onto the gravel path adjacent to the tracks, standing two feet from the train as it slowly picked up speed, leaving us to our adventure while the other two in our party traveled on to Machu Picchu. It was only 50 feet to the entrance of the trail, where we ‘checked’ in and applied generous portions of mosquito repellent as they swarmed all around us. I had borrowed a set of hiking poles from my physical therapist, recovering from a groin injury in all our Austrian Alps descents. Graciously, I gave Maggie one of them and we set out around 9:15 a.m., lagging behind Kurt, Phil and Ruben, our fearless leaders!
Our guide, Ruben, had prepared us well as to the terrain, ascents and timing, with the first hour being the hardest, and an altitude gain of 1,700 feet in the first three hours, over stone ‘stairs’, sharp rocks, tree roots, along a single passage path with magnificent views of the river, railroad tracks, and valley below. Being winded a lot in the beginning, we would pause after a steep incline, catching our breath on promontories at bends in the path, absorbing these breathtaking views, looking back at the narrow sinuous ribbon of dirt and rocks we had travelled up to this point, making it easier to accept the effort, seeing what had been accomplished. We caught up with our stalwarts after our first hour, at a thatched respite, sitting on large smooth granite rocks, positioned on both sides of the trail that cut through the middle of this covered stopover, digging into our backpacks for nourishment and hydration from our heavy water supply, mingling with a group of German hikers, the only others we saw on this tramp. Maggie and I cut our stop short to head out, knowing they would catch and pass us at some point, just not right away!
This next leg went much easier after our short respite, my groin seemingly OK and having adjusted to the altitude and the pace. At many turns, we would be met by fresh breezes, pause for a panoramic moment, noting that this lush landscape and beauty were greater than what we had imagined for the hike. At these moments we knew we would not embarrass ourselves to our friends and be hauled out on burros or llamas. After two hours we reached a set of waterfalls, where we sat and lunched before climbing through the Winaywayna ruins at 8,700 feet, built into a steep hillside, consisting of the vestiges of housing complexes connected by staircase structures, with tiers of grass being grazed upon by a small congregation of llamas. Once we were espied, we noted one llama’s disdain for us by turning his rear end our way, a couple of tiers up the hillside and expelling his excrement our way. We had an interesting time trying to get around them, as Ruben had fallen behind and we did not know any ‘llama etiquette’. What do you do if one were to charge? Do you stand your ground? Do you run? Stare them down? How do you get past one who’s chewing up the grass, his body blocking the four foot wide passage to the next set of stairs? Nudge him and risk getting bumped down to the next tier? Use negotiating skills? Sweet pleading? When Ruben arrived on the scene he got a good laugh. Seems the worst fallout would have been being spit on. Once we were steeled with this invaluable information, we proceeded to walk up the stairs, often side-by-side with a friendly llama (video attached above) or sandwiched above and behind by one.
True to Ruben’s preview of this trek, the next two hours were at a pretty stable elevation, allowing for great progress timewise, being able to stop and snap pictures of the orchids, begonias, tree limbs sporting wispy, light green moss drifting with the breezes. There still were rocks and short-lived steep descents and ascents, nothing like the long continual ascent at the beginning. The river continued to be in view, as was a hydroelectric dam 2,000 feet below, seemingly out of place in this setting. At one point we were able to look back and witness the ruins, which looked miniscule in retrospect, a measure of how far we had come since lunch. We intersected with the full four day hikers’ campgrounds as we neared the Sun Gate (Inti Punku) at 8,900 feet, the point at which we would walk through, gaining a view of Machu Picchu some 900 feet below and half a mile away. But first, we were met with a wall of stones, at such an angle, and twenty feet high, that we gave our poles to Ruben and scaled this final barrier on all fours. Passing through the gate, we saw Kurt and Phil, sitting on stones, basking in the sun, pondering the view, all of us finally back together, sitting in wonder with a sense of accomplishment. Leaving our aerie, we spent 30 minutes walking down to the bus that would take us into the town of Aguas Calientes and our accommodations at the Inkaterra Machu Picchu Pueblo, amazingly situated on beautiful and well-kempt grounds with lush foliage, cobblestoned pathways, with glacial waters streaming alongside. Joining back up with Marilyn and Joanie, we were presented with ‘Welcome’ beverages in the guise of Pisco Sours. Following this was a dinner, where we shared a bottle of wine from our room that had been awaiting our arrival (again, the ‘matrimonial’ theme had followed us here with a note hung on the bottle). We toasted our 40 years of wedded bliss as well as the sum total of 127 years between all of us couples!
The next day we claimed our independence, mandating to Ruben that we wanted more time to ourselves, hence, only three hours in the morning for Machu Picchu (MP), which turned out to be quite enough, especially with the madding crowd of tourists and their selfie sticks everywhere, representing cultures from around the world, with a couple of younger Japanese dressed in their traditional dress, leaving ankles and legs exposed to the insidious biting of the sand flies and mosquitos. After our winding multiple S-curve bus ride back up to MP, Ruben sat us down to provide a historical overview of this site, once thought to be a royal ‘vacation’ spot, now believed to have been a mausoleum, set in a saddle between Machu Picchu Mountain and Huayna Mountain. When occupied, it accommodated 400 souls comprised of noblemen, their families and servants. He set us straight on the surrounding cliffs being of granite, not limestone as we had thought, bearing hordes of bromeliads, a food coveted by the Spectacled Bear (Andean Short-Faced Bear), something never seen by us. What we did see here was a lone Peruvian Mountain Viscacha, looking like a Chinchilla with its long tail, big ears and cuddliness, sitting on a stone behind a rope which cordoned off one area, cutely daring us to cross the line.
Ruben’s history included more information about the rise of Pachacutec, a 17 year old warrior, chosen to rule the Incas from 1438-1471 (35% of their 100 year existence) after leading a rout over their archenemy, the Chanka (lowland dwellers), who had attacked them. One interesting sharing surrounded the question on ownership of this magnificent UNESCO site, the Peruvian government? A local Peruvian family whose deed of sale from 100 years ago would suggest it’s theirs? It’s always about the money! One can only imagine the income from this site with a million tourists annually. On a lighter note, relative to Quechuan pronunciation, we had a pretty good laugh with Ruben explaining that in Quechuan, MP is Machu Pikcu (old person, or old peak). If pronounced like “pitchu” it means old penis.
Our MP wandering included a sacrificial altar, the Templo del Sol, with four stairs signifying the four seasons, windows carved out of the stone in this semi-circular building to align with the solstices, then proceeding up several flights of stairs to the Inti Watana (Huatana, in Quechuan), which translates to ‘tied to the sun’, the sun dial aligned with the sun’s position during Winter Solstice. Our last stop at MP was the Espejos de Agua (water mirrors), a sculpture carved out from the rock bottom of the sun temple, forming two 18”diameter pools, the ‘Eyes of Pachamama’ (mother earth), one representing day, the other night.
Taking the bus back down around 1:15 p.m., we were regaled with someone at the back playing their Peruvian flute, its soft sounds soothing our tired, hot, bug-bitten selves. We had time back in Aguas Calientes to do some shopping for our peeps back in Seattle, spending some time off the cobblestoned corner of Avenue Pachacutec & Calle Capac Yupan Qui, at the Inkawasi Café, sipping on cappuccinos on the stoop outside the front door, being regaled by the musicians across the street, playing mandolin and flutes. The indoor market was a relief from the intense heat, where we purchased Peruvian-themed hot pads for Maggie’s VFBC, (Vigilante Food Book Club), members and others. We boarded the 3:20 p.m. train back to Cusco, switching to a van at Ollantaytambo to make a 7:00 p.m. arrival time, thanks to Ruben and his looking out for us. This drive was a whole lot safer than the last one!!! Back at Casa San Blas on plan, we took our free dinner at Pacha Papa’s which we took as compensation for our ‘pain and suffering’ for the night of terror on our pilgrimage from Puerto Maldonado.
Our last morning in Cusco had us vanning it to the airport to catch a 90 minute flight to Lima, being whisked to our day rooms at the Casa Andina Private Collection Mira Flores and then on to our 1:00 p.m. pre-arranged lunch at Astrid y Gaston, #14 on the list of the World’s top 50 restaurants for 2015. We had made reservations while still at home, knowing that it could be a reward for jungle sacrifices, multiple bug bites, etc. It was well worth it! We chose the five course Dinner A, with wine pairings, which included presentations like Cebiche, comprised of cabrilla fish, sea urchin, rocoto and corn leche de tigre and Andean beef with beets soaked in vodka, all courses topped off with Lucuma, a purple corn puffed pastry dessert with raspberries and served with a special coffee (Cahamarca) served cold. Our guide showed up two hours after delivering us to Astrid’s, for a tour around Lima, which turned out to be the lowlight of the whole two weeks. The traffic was grid-locked, the air quality very poor, enhanced by the dismal and grey weather. After two hours, we asked to be taken back to the day rooms, not having visited any of the touristy sites on the agenda. No real loss, though, considering all we had experienced prior to Lima: the beauty of all the flora and fauna, the imparting of Peruvian history, the various ruins and the vignettes of daily life along the roads and rivers. Prior to our midnight flight to Mexico, Maggie and I reflected back on the whole Peruvian experience, including disposing of toilet paper in containers next to the toilets, a hard habit to develop and hard to break once we got home. We complimented each other on our excellent strategy to end this trip with a week on Zihuatanejo’s Playa la Ropa beach as a part of our recovery and reentry, nursing the scores of bug bites which were being scratched to the point of bleeding.
So, that’s it for this adventure. Until next time,
Hasta Luego y Feliz Ano Nuevo,
Stan & Maggie