Thru Peru

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April 18th to 29th 2006

For the first time anywhere far flung in the world (you can't count my overdue visit to long lost cousins in Toronto), I have travelled a road I've been down before, albeit in the opposite direction. Crossing the border in to Peru seemed strangley familiar. Strange because I had only longed to do that crossing and hadn't actually made it those few years before. Still, it felt good and so did the fact that my moby started working again (sad I know). All through Brazil and Bolivia I either couldn't charge it or, when I could, I didn't get reception. So much for the global-roaming sim card! And so much for accepting your lot as a world traveller, living without all the comforts and conveniences of home- I was so happy I could text again!

Arrived in Cuzco feeling at home, knowing where I was and what to do- a weird sensation in South America, I can tell you. The perfect place to chill out, enjoy my birthday and watch the footy for the first time in ages (the less said about that the better now, considering I'd timed my visit perfectly to coincide with the cup semis at home).

My 38th came and went in a blur (yes, a fairly drink-enduced one) and, considering it was the first one I've ever spent away from those I love, it was a great craic. My seriously family orientated background had me convinced I was going to struggle with being away from home. However, my three older sisters were substituted temporarily by five women that made my day. Due to the presents, card and photos (which very unsympathetically mocked the tragic, anti-fruit affliction that some unfortunate souls like myself suffer from) but, more so because of the friendship and genuine affection these guys displayed towards someone they hardly knew, I felt closer to my family than I could ever have hoped for. Thank you all; Pru, Sue, Lotta, Camilla and Betsy, you're different class...........
Diabolical behaviour sometimes but, still, different class!

I have an affection for Cuzco that stems from my time there during the Machu Picchu charity trek I did in 2003. That was my first real travel experience and was nothing short of life-changing, considering what I'd been through in previous year or so. At every turn I recognised a cafe, a bar, a hotel or even just the street and had flashbacks of friends and great times. The de ja vue (spell check- I don't do languages.....obviously!) increased when I caught the train to Aguas Calientes at the base of Machu Picchu. I had decided to return to the world UNESCO site and do the place justice as I had been ever-so-slightly hungover the last time I visited. I wanted to make my peace with this wonder of the world by being on the first bus up in the morning and by spending the whole day there. However, I was dumbstruck when I arrived.

Machu Picchu, no, all of Peru, nay, the world has sold out!! I have lost my faith in Human nature completely. There is now a MacDonald's at the entrance to the ruins, selling, you guessed it.... Big Mac-hu's. AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!! unbelievebly, it doesn't stop there. advertising has become big business for the descendants of the Incas. Space has been sold at various areas around the site to a multitude of multi-national companies, seemingly by tacit association. Everywhere you look there are signs and slogans brandishing company logos, of which the following were my personal favourites; "The group of the King" (former palace buildings) sponsored by, yep, Burger King. "The Tower" (an observatory so, quite clever this one) in association with STARbucks (get it?). "The Nest of the Condor" by Nestle. The two main agricultural zones (the terracing you see in the photos) with who else but, Tony the (Kelloggs- cereals link, yeh?) Tiger bouncing across them as a fifteeen foot cardboard cut-out. Sacreligiously, "The Sacred Plaza" now has, painted on it's grassy lawns (with football pitch line-marking equipment) a 70 metre long logo for John Deere Tractors which have, as part of the deal, replaced the resident Llamas as the principle means for control of the sward!

But, by far the worst to my mind is "Intipunku" (The Portal of the Sun). After four days of slogging over high mountain passes and clambering through cloud-forest jungle on The Inka trail, you arrive at this awe-inspiring ridge from whence you gain your first tantalising glimpse of Machu Picchu far below. Or at least, you used to. Now the view is obscured by a twenty metre square, bright orange billboard. Three foot high, neon light letters that are never turned off and illuminate the now, starless, night sky (due to the light pollution they cause) spell out the timeless legend; "America's favourite juice welcomes you to the Sunny-D Gate"........... Oh, and Cuy (that's roasted Giunea Pig) tastes really good too!

Well, whad'ya expect, I missed April fool's day!! I've been away for a while and it was time for a wind-up!!

My real return to Machu Picchu was much stranger than the fiction above. I did catch the first bus up and was one of the first to enter the ruins. For reasons I'll explain later, I headed straight for the path for Huayna Picchu (the higher of the three mountains you see in the background of all the postcard shots of Machu Picchu). I was there at ten past six. Trouble is, they don't open the route until seven and despite the offer of an admittedley small bribe the official on the gate was adamant that that was when I would start my climb. So, I had a little wander around, as you do when visiting a wonder of the world and begun my ascent on time (actually, I was a few minutes early, a fact I was quite happy with given the earlier altercation). What I wasn't happy with was my performance.

I'd vowed to make ammends for upsetting Pachamama (Mother Earth) by only exploring the site for a couple of hours on my previous visit. Plus, I had been envious of some of my friends on that trek that had viewed machu Picchu from Huayna Picchu. So, do the killing of two birds with the proverbial, I thought. Appease the nature gods of the Incas and quash some good old fashoined feelings of innapropriate jealousy at the same time. What I nearly ended up doing, was killing myself!! The guide books say something like; "Although some parts of the path are steep, it is an easy to moderate hike to the summit of Huaynu Picchu if you take a steady pace." I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because I had an entirely different and much more dangerous experience to the one I was expecting thanks to the guide book writers. Ok, admittedley, there were a lot of contributory factors to this;

Primarily, the weather was awful. Visability was poor as clouds kept drifting across the densely vegetated peaks. The wind , although fairly moderate did keep blowing my Poncho up in front of me, again, impedeing vision somewhat. But, the clincher was the rain. In between the showers, it poured. Ropes, intended to aid the climber turned in to greased poles and the now slippery, smooth steps of the path were nothing short of miniture waterfalls. Treachorous is an understatement. Secondly, I under estimated how unfit I was. I would love to blame my fatigue on altitude but, that would be a false claim. My legs got heavy very quickly. I struggled to cope with the weight of my pack (although it wasn't really heavy at all) and, more so, with the way it affected my balance. I had to keep my coat on under the Poncho because I had no-where else to put it which increased the heat and strain factors enormously. But, mainly, I was breathing heavy, gasping for air. That'll be the smoking for you!! Self inflicted, no sympathy for you, I thought, and carried on, ever upward.

Nearly a fatal mistake. No kidding, I nearly lost it. I stopped for a rest, turned to look back at Machu picchu and my legs went (wobbled violently, that is for those of you new to Ian-speak). The path I had just ascended and the scenery far below and beyond it seemd to rush up at me. I put out my left hand and felt for the cliff face, thankfully, finding it. As quickly as my aching quads and straining calves would let me, I sat down, sliding my hand down the rain soaked rock face for guidance. Ok, what the hell was that, I thought. I'd never experienced anything like it. I knew it was weird and potentially very dangerous given my location but, after a couple of minutes to collect my thoughts, with true Carmichael stubborness I got up and carried on.

See, that's the trouble with stuborness- it means you find it difficult to be taught a lesson. Fine when you're sitting in a class room learning. So what, you fail an exam or get a bad grade. Fail to listen to the teacher on a one foot wide, slippery rock path, halfway up a mountain and you die- simple as that.

So, when the same thing happened again a few minutes later, I sat and thought about it for a while. At first it didn't help because, unless you'e a contortionist, you have to sit looking down the mountain. Not the view you want when you've just had you're first Vertigo attack (if that's what it was- I wouldn't know, I've never had anything like it before and I sincerely hope I don't again). For a while, it all got a bit dark up there. Considering I'd just had two decidedly dodgy moments coming up the path, I was seriously starting to doubt my chances of making it back down it. I knew full well that it was going to be a lot more dangerous descending than it had been climbing. I was reciting positive affirmations over and over. I closed my eyes and tried to meditate to clear my mind. When I opened them again, I looked down and saw two people on the path, at a low pass far below. I wondered if they could see me sitting up there, pondering my fate, the only one brave/stupid (delete as you feel appropriate) enough to be on the mountain in such fine weather. Sitting there in the in the pouring rain, in my bright blue, plastic poncho it crossed my mind how funny I must look- hunched on the rocks, water dripping off my nose, too scared to move. I wished to myself that someone could have taken a photo of me crouched there in my misery. I remember thinking well, if they did, and I do cop it on the way down, at least it would be a great last picture. Laughing out loud, I got myself up and got my soggy butt down the mountain.... very, very slowly.
I don't know quite what to make of the whole experience and, suprisingly, I'm happy with what I did manage to achieve that morning- particularly the staying alive bit. I think I'll just put it down to Pachamama having a wee game with me to get even for me not showing enough respect in the past. Lesson learned.

Once I'd recovered from my near death trip up the rocky slopes of Huaynu Picchu, I spent the rest of the day exploring the lost but, found city. The day just kept getting weirder, though. I was lining up a shot of "The Reflection Pools" in an obsevatory room in the lower residential area when a tour group ambled in to the room and through my line of sight. The last of the group lingered in my intended photo frame, oblivious to the situation as she vacantly surveyed the room. I was just about to politely ask her to "get out of the bloody way" when I realised it was Lotta that I'd been traveling with since La Paz! A small coincidence maybe, considering our itinaries but, the next one was far from minor. I walked up a flight of stairs and down a corridor in search of a certain room. Realising I'd taken a wrong turn, I back-tracked. At the top of the stairs I'd just come up was a Peruvian guy with his back to me. I quietly muttered "permisso" and he looked up as he moved aside to let me pass. I recognised him instantly but still had to stutter out his name and get him to confirm it before I could truly belive it. It was Pavel, the lead guide from the trek three years previous! Considering the size of the place, the time that had lapsed since I'd seen him last and the morning I'd had, it was no surprise I reacted with profound shock. We swapped mail addresses, had a good chat and a (very manly) hug before saying goodbye (until I saw him again at a cafe later the same day)!

What with almost dying, bumping into Lotta and Pavel and all the memories from my last visit, it was a pretty profound day all round at Machu Picchu. But, I think that's the same for everyone that visits the site. It's a special place. Some call it magical, some mystical and most, like myself, get a spiritual feeling when losing yourself amongst the ancient stones of the ruins. There is so much conjecture about what Machu Picchu's purpose was and you do wonder why it's there sometimes. But, when you have experienced the energy of this particular Inca site you take away with you your own ideas and impressions of why. I certainly came away from the place with strong impressions of a day I won't forget in a hurry. And, although I was exhausted, I was glad to have achieved most of what I set out to do, particularly, appeasing Pachamama. I think I paid her enough respect this time round and, although she did her best to frighten the living daylights out of me, she did let me live in the end....... Fair do's!

Oh! And it's ok to mention football again now, The Blues just won the league this morning (arf past, poxy six kick off, my time) by stuffing Ferguson's floosies 3-0. Happy Birthday to me!- just over a week late but, I'll take it anyway. Now all we need is Scotland to win the world cup! ;-)

This might be the last blog for a while as all I'm doing from here (now in Lima on what's now known as "League Champions day" or, more boringly, April 29th) is traveling up to Quito in Ecuador to meet Sarah on the 6th May. And I'm not writing to you lot about what we do in our first two weeks together since early February!!!!!!!

So, until I do something interesting after Sarah's gone home, keep well and keep in touch.

Hasta luego mis amigos, Ian

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Photos

Reseviour Blogs
The girls cross the border in to Peru

The World's Most dangerous Photo
Machu Picchu from Huayna Picchu

Doing Earth Mother justice
A much better shot and in better weather too!

Looking Concerned!!
"What IS she doing with my camera? I hope she's lined the shot up nicely" - obviously not but, my face is a picture anyway!

Comments

[Linda Lindsay]

well done!
Ian, Your blogs are amazing! Keep writing, I feel like I'm there. I think you should write a book on your travels.....new career perhaps? Glad to hear you survived your trek, stay safe! Your Fave Canadian Cousin, Linda