Machupicchu: The Journey to the Top and Back Home

Sara described the easy steps to get to Aguas Calietes, which was so thrilling it needed its own post. It was the kind of adventure when the truths are actually more exciting than lies. The journey to the top of Machupicchu is no different. Truly a breathtaking adventure.

First, some background info.
One: Machupicchu is not only the name of the famous site of the Incans "lost city" but also the name of the mountain on which it rests. "Machu" means "old." Huaynapicchu is the name of the mountain above Machupicchu and "Huayna" means "young."
Two: The "lost city" was never actually lost. When Hiram Bingham, a Yale professor, rediscovered the site in 1911, he found two families living there. What happened to these two families after excavation of the site, I have no idea. Even though the site is only 80K from Cusco, the Incan capital, it was never dicovered by the Spanish, and that is what makes it famous. There is a whole Incan city undefiled by Spanish hands! (When the Spanish discovered an Incan site they always destroyed any sign of paganism and stole the stones to build their own cathedrals and palaces, thus placing themselves above any local tradition and forcing Catholicism upon any survivors.)
Three: There are only two ways to get to the top of Machupicchu; take a bus for 21 soles or walk up a steep, twisting stone stairway. If Huaynapicchu is on your list, like it was ours, you must leave early in the morning to be sure you are one of the first to arrive because only 400 people are allowed to make the climb each day. Only half of the 400 are allowed to make the climb at 10am (once the clouds have cleared) which is the time our group was aiming for. So to get to Huaynapicchu you must leave at about 4am (before the buses start running) and take the stiff uphill climb to Machupicchu, and if you happen to go in April before the mass hordes of tourist arrive, you may be hiking in the rain, up slippery stone stairs, but you will be rewarded with amazing sites. We have photos to come to show what the ruins look likearound 6am when the site opens. (An interesting side note- early in the morning, the average age of visitors to Machupicchu was probably around 27. Later in the day, after the busses let off loads of retired Americans and Europeans, the average age was probably around 57-60, and these old people said multiple times "everyone here sure does look tired..." )

Why we were tired:
We (I) really wanted to see Huaynapicchu, so our group left our hostal at 4am with a few food rations and some water, I had some expired yogurt that was actually quite tasty. We started climbing up a zigzaging stoneway that periodically crossed the road made for the not-so-fit tourist who would arrive latter in the day. About three minutes into the hike it started to rain. After about an hour and half we made it to the top of the mountain greeted by a few other trekkers and a huge luxury buffet that sold 90 sole lunches (no thanks). Sara and I entered the park as visitors 188 and 189 , and were granted our 10am ticket into Huaynapicchu. At this point we had a nice view of the inside of a cloud with a visibilty of about 20 feet. We walked around lost for a while, taking lots of cloudy photos and eavesdropping on guides until about 9.30 when the clouds rolled out and we made our way to the entrance of Huaynapicchu. At the entrance is a sign that says this hike is only for the fit. Not five minutes after the start of our hike to Huaynapicchu (the mountain that rises above MP) we were greeted by return hikers, breating hard and sweating a lot with disgruntaled looks on their faces. They were upset because there was nothing but the interior view on a cloud greeting them at the top of HP. We set off at a slow pace stuck behing an older couple, but soon broke free and within 30 minutes (for me) were granted with pristine views of MP below. It was a stiff climb to the top and we have some pictures that might make some parents squeemish (ahem...Mitzi (we can include a parental warning)). The climb included some ladder climbing, tunneling, cliff-hopping, and lots of stair climbing, some of which were just rocks jutting out from a wall with a 1000m drop below. The climb down was a breeze as that gravity did much of the work.

Since much of our time in MP was filled with clouds, I made Sara walk the whole thing with me again so I could get better pictures. Another fact I should mention is MP does not have a bathroom on site...you have to walk quite a ways to find it through the maze-like architecture of MP. By the time we climbed down and walked around MP again it was near 2pm. We had been up since 4. 10 hours without a bathroom. I made Sara climb to the hut of the caretaker (where people can get the famous postcard photo) and afterwards she had to sprint to find the bathroom. She made it, but just barely because there was a bus in the way, getting ready to take the lazies down the mountain.

I stayed a bit longer in the ruins getting some photos then met Sara, Rhi and Paria outside the ruins. (This is when the new group was arriving, and made the comments about us looking really tired.) We choose to take the trail back down and avoid the 21 sole ride down the mountain. As we were marching down, some sprinting Peruvians passed us shouting that they were Incans. I believe they could beat the busses down the side of the mountain.

The next couple hours were filled with rest, as we had to wake up early the next day to start our hike back home. The trek home was (thankfully) all-in-all uneventfull because it was daylight. We could see a trail that ran along the train tracks as well as foot bridges that crossed the most dangerous parts of our journey. We then took an alternate route back where we crossed the remains of a landslide and arrived at the cable car in just four hours of walking. We passed some of my favorite trees along the way, including coffee trees (ít´s too bad I didn´t have any peppermint creamer with me), coca trees, and avacado trees. The large landslide we had climbed over the first day had been cleared and the river was a lot lower.

This was an adventure of a lifetime that I will probably never forget. It was exhausting, spiritual, and rewarding.

Due to my amazing photography skills, we are going to make a separate post filled with photos that will blow your mind. Stay tuned.

Machu Picchu: The Journey to Aguas Calientes

We´re splitting up the giant post...here´s the first part....

You can read the "plan" for our trip sin guia (without a guide) in the last post. Our main goal for Wednesday: Travel with Charlie, Rhi, and Paria (three other travelers we met at our hostel in Cusco) and arrive in Aguas Calientes and buy our Machu Picchu entrance tickets before the office closed, reportedly at 10 p.m.

Wednesday Charlie, Matthew and I caught a taxi to what turned out to be the wrong bus terminal (apparently, there are three in Cusco). After a confusing hour, we ended up at the other terminal and met Rhi, who told us to run because the bus was about to leave and was waiting on us. Finally, we were on the road, at the very back of the bus, for a 5+ hour trip to Santa Maria. Matthew was all very excited about the scenery (see photo above), while I was excited about trying to sleep and trying not to get sick from the motion/bumps.

When we finally made it, we crowded into a car for about 2 more hours of riding along the mountain side. We passed many exhausted walkers, some of whom looked toward the car longingly. One girl was panting and told us that we were "so f-ing lucky" that we weren´t walking, as her friend asked our driver for directions. We continued around the curves, exiting at one point to walk over a muddy area that the car wouldn´t make it through with all our weight (and hoping the driver wouldn´t reverse and drive away with all our stuff), stopping at one point so the driver could cover his engine with plastic to protect it from the water we had to drive through (see photo above, we´re about to drive through that river), and stopping at another to pick up a man who got in the trunk. The driver had agreed to take us to Santa Teresa, however stopped short, along with many other parked vehicles, and told us that´s as far as he went. We were confused, and asked if he was sure, but eventually got out, paid, and started walking.

We had only been on the road for a few minutes before seeing a huge crowd of people, a bulldozer, and a landslide. Great. Luckily, we had to wait only a few more minutes before it was cleared enough to cross to the other side! There was a van whose driver was eager to take passengers the rest of the way to Santa Teresa, so we piled in. Thinking we had to walk the rest of the way to Aguas Calientes, we exited and asked which way, and the driver told us he would take us farther for a little more money. Worried about time, we all were ready for the ride. The driver took us as far as the cable-car river crossing.

Dusk was encroaching and we hurried down to the cable car, laughed at what we were doing, snapped a few photos, and crossed the river. I was happy for the two guys on each side of the river who did the heavy pulling for us. The rest of the journey was up to us, walking walking walking.

What was described in our travel book as a two-hour walk took almost five, due to the combination of a detour took because of another land slide, the dark (and my weak flashlight), a consistent rain, and our path, which consisted primarily of train tracks. Although it seemed like we were part of the Amazing Race, trying to get to Aguas Calientes before 10, competing with a group of Japanese travelers who also hoped to arrive in time to buy tickets, I was relieved to be accompanied by the other walkers. We  figured out the path together, and one man even lent Matthew his headlamp when Matthew´s flashlight died. It was a long walk highlighted with events like my walking into a big piece of metal and scraping my leg and crossing over a rushing river via a railroad bridge (see how scary it is even during the day...and notice that foot bridge to the left we somehow missed in the dark). However, no serious injuries (my leg is ok) and we arrived exhausted, of course after the office was closed. I paid 15 soles for pringles, juice, and gatorade at the first shop we saw, we found a hostel and crashed for the night. Enough adventure to last a little while, and this was just what we had to do to get to Aguas Calientes.

An Accidental Party

I am sacrificing my turn to write about Machu Picchu to write about our holy week. (We are leaving for Machu Pichhu on Wednesday, doing a 7 hour hike, followed by a 2 hour hike, staying in Machu Picchu pueblo, then hiking another 2 hours arriving in Michu Picchu at 5am....if all goes well, we have descided not to take a guide, its kinda like a treasure hunt and it shouldn´t be that hard...I have a compass) Now on to the story.

Ahhh Semana Santa, a fine week with a miraculous ending.

We started the week in Cusco watching the procession of Senór de los Temblores. Then, enjoyed the 12-dish lunch on Good Friday. On Easter, after having missed mass because we were sleeping at 2am (when mass was) and because we never heard the bells ring (The church here rings the bells when mass is to begin, which is all fine except we do not always know when mass is.) we decided to hike up a very large hill that has a church as its crown. We started walking and about halfway up we heard the church bells from the cathedral below, but we continued our march uphill. As we got a bit closer we started hearing music and the sounds of merry people. We were then greeted by a big gang of people who were playing music and drinking, a lot. After walking around the church a bit, I was offered some beer and accepted. Then I was offered another 675ml bottle, and accepted, then I was given another...then Sara and I were dancing to a song about some gringos. Sara was offered some Chicha (fermented corn beer which is a beverage made by the Incans). It taste like a fruit beer.

I have never spoken so much Spanish in my life. We were asked all kinds of questions, like where we are from, what our jobs where, and eventually we were asked to become private English teachers and were invited to the house of the host. We danced down the mountain side (led by the musicians), paraded with a band to the town center and back to a large house where 60+ crates of beer (12 bottles in each), another band, and a marvelous meal awaited us.

 

Sara was then asked to dance about 50 times and I got a tour of the house and learned how they make bread, which is a separate story all together. Basically it was an Easter experience like I have never had before. One which did not include any eggs or a rabbit and ended with kids at school today asking if I drank yesterday. I said "NO, now do your work."

photos added April 11

Edit

Just to let you know... there´s a new photo on the "Itinerary" post...check out this bread and try not to be too jealous.
Happy Easter Weekend,
Sara

12 Plates

¡Estoy llena! ("I am full!")
This morning as I walked to the kitchen to make breakfast, our landlady invited Matthew and me to lunch at her house to celebrate Semana Santa (Holy Week). I graciously accepted, as it´s nice to be included in things here and I wasn´t exactly looking forward to going back to the restaurant that served tongue Wednesday.

After accepting the invitation, I bought Quaker (pronounced  "quacker" here) from her to attempt to master what so many other women here can make into a delicious brakfast. Yesterday was a bust, resulting in whitish water with floating cinnamon flakes. Not my best work, but today´s attempt resulted in nearly 4 cups of deliciousness to accompany the famous Oropesa bread and tea. I filled up on breakfast, took an icy shower, and tried to become presentable for whatever this lunch involved...I could hear lots of people downstairs and, as usual, didn´t know what we were getting into.

We arrived and started talking (or trying to speak in Spanish...) about the Holy Week traditions here and differences in the celebrations in Peru and the U.S. I told about missing the Temblores procession in Oropesa because we went to the one in Cusco, and also said I had never heard about the 12 Plate meal, in honor of the 12 apostles. I thought we had missed it last night while we were in Cusco, but little did I know that was what we were celebrating at lunch! How exciting!

Originally, I thought that a 12 plate meal meant a buffett-style dinner, with 12 different dishes. I knew about half were sweets/desserts, and the rest were salads, rice, and the like. I was horribly, horribly wrong. We were about to be served a 12-COURSE meal! I felt pretty good through the first five, but after dish number six, I was feeling nervous. Luckily, we didn´t go on and just left it at a six-course meal with the seventh (a cookie) to go.

Here´s the menu:
1. Cream of Corn Soup
2. Potato (?) Soup
3. Some sort of seafood soup, including crunchy fish eggs
4. Fried trout, salad, potato
5. Peaches in juice
6. Arroz con leche (sweet rice made with milk and cinnamon)
7. Empanada (cookie pictured above)

We washed everything down with Inka Kola. Apparently there was another "segundo" ("main dish" like number 4) planned, but everyone basically gave up. I went back upstairs and took a two hour nap to recover. Like Thanksgiving, but not really at all.

Photo added April 3

Solo un chiste (only a joke)

Yesterday was April fools day...and I could not resist the chance to share a bit of my humor.

Everything in the message is true, but Sara did not hurt her ankle in any way and I am not knitting, though I do want to learn for the sake of knowing how to make a hat. The textile arts here are phenomenal.

Our house is lovely. I really enjoy the inside/outside aspects of the architecture here. Though the shower window is a bit low for me, it is also small, so no problems there. And taking a shower requires lots of psyching up because the water is so cold. Most of the time I get myself psyched up to take a shower, get ready, take a deep breath and think...I don´t really smell that bad...I can wait till the morning.

So thought I would let everyone know, everything is A-ok in Peru. You can breathe a little easier now.

Matthew

What a Day

Being April fool´s, I thought I would do an April Fool´s post, but then I thought I am currently living a life where anything is possible and how can you make up a post on a life where anything can happen at any given moment. For example, right now I am sitting at a computer surrounded by 9 other computer users and I am wearing my pajamas with a Chullo. I am wearing pajamas because it has been raining for the last 3 days and Sara and I went to Cusco and came back soaked (after having been offered cocain and some other drugs several times).

I could also tell stories about how all the sidewalks are on different levels and sometime have gapeing holes in them and in the rain its three times as bad to walk on because the stones are slippery. Sara and I were walking along such a sidewalk with holes, Sara in her not so sturdy Toms shoes, and Sara slipped in a hole hurting her ankle fairly badly, I hope she is doing better by Tuesday because that is the day we leave for our jungle trek to Machu Picchu (we have been confirmed!!) I do not think she will have to put her travelers insurance to use, but she is now soaking her foot in hot water.

Our living situation is interesting as well. We live above a shop in a small rural town. We are renting a room and the only way to get to the room is to walk along an outdoor balcony, then into our room. We also have access to another room that has been converted into a kitchen and a bathroom that has a sink a toilet and a shower head on the wall but no physical shower. We just shower right in front of the toilet. There is a window in the bathroom as well which I, being taller than the average Peruvian, have to be mindfull of when I walk by so I do not glimpse anyone inside. 

Other news, I have started knitting a hat and my artistic skills are flowing, I am pretty good. Wheather or not it will hold water, I do not know.

Now I must return home to drink some Coca tea and eat some coca chocolates. It helps me cope with all the rain.

So you see, it is hard to pick out what is real and what could be just a figment of my imagination.