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Published: January 16th 2010
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Day 3 started with another early wake-up call at 5am. The porters were frantically trying to dry the last of the wet clothes from the day before over their gas camping stoves. It was much appreciated to wake-up to dry jackets and pants. Luckily, there was no rain (yet) that morning, so we backtracked a bit to see one of the Inca sites we had visited the day before in the rain. It was definitely worth visiting again, as it was an amazing site, with amazing views of the Andes. After heading back to camp around 6:30am, we sat down to breakfast and embarked on what Raul called the “easy day” as it was “Inca flat” (some uphills, some downhills, but nothing as major as Day 2). We only trekked for about 5 hours in the morning and had the afternoon to relax at camp and visit some of the best Inca sites (in Raul’s opinion). Luckily, the rain held off and the sun actually came up in the afternoon, just in time for a heated Australia vs Peru soccer match. That evening, we said goodbye to our porters, and the Aussies actually convinced all 14 porters to participate in the
helmet voting that night. Raul explained the idea to the porters and asked them to pick who they didn’t like the most out of the group. The penalty for getting the most votes was of course, wearing the helmet the next day, as well as doing a dance for everyone that night. To everyone’s surprise (I’m sure), I got the most votes and had the pleasure of dancing for everyone and wearing the helmet to Machu Picchu the next day. I have 3 theories for why this happened:
1) The porters misunderstood the instructions and were picking the person they liked the best (highly likely, as most of them speak Quechua, an ancient Inca dialect, not similar to Spanish)
2) They really wanted me to dance
3) I somehow disrespected them - perhaps they resented having to dry my pants and jacket
We headed to bed shortly after the festivities, as the wake-up call was for 3am the next morning to head to Machu Picchu.
Day 4 - the grand finale, Machu Picchu! Our early wake-up call paid off, as we were the first group at the check-point that morning. The check-point opens at 5:30am, to prevent groups from trekking
in the dark on the high mountain path. Our first chance to see Machu Picchu was from the sun gate, high above the Machu Picchu site itself. Unfortunately, when we arrived, Machu Picchu was socked in with fog, as it often is at this time of year, so we had to wait another 45mins until we actually trekked into the site to get our first glimpses. Luckily, most of the fog had lifted by the time we got there and the view was phenomenal. Machu Picchu truly is a village built on top of a mountain, the skill and diligence it must have taken to build the site is truly awe-inspiring. Raul gave us a tour of the most important areas of Machu Picchu for about 2 hours, amongst the thousands of other visitors and tour groups. Most of the other visitors had taken the bus up to Machu Picchu, so we felt superior as we trekked 4 days to get there. After our tour, we had time to explore on our own. We met in the town of Augas Calientes, about a 30min bus ride down into the valley, for one last lunch with our group. From there we
took a train and a bus back to Cusco and bid the group farewell.
Megan and I had a bust evening lined up; we had arranged a night bus to Copacabana, Bolivia. The tour agency we booked with told us our tickets would be ready at the bus counter at the bus station. Not too surprising, when we showed up to inquire about our tickets, the woman at the counter said they did not have our tickets and that the bus company did not go to Copacabana, only Puno (on the Peruvian side of lake Titicaca, where we were meant to change busses). We tried to communicate in our poor Spanish that we had arranged with a tour company. This Peruvian man overheard our struggles and helped us call the tour company (it was 11pm) and sort out the situation. We thought he worked for the bus company, but he seemed to disappear shortly after, so it appears he was just a good samaritan, helping out some lost “gringos” (Spanish slang for foreigners). After sitting and waiting for another 20mins, as the man had instructed us, and listening to this annoying woman shouting “Puno! Puno! Puno!” constantly, trying to sell
bus tickets , a woman showed up with our tickets and explained that they had mistakenly been sent to the tour office instead of the bus station. So we were finally sorted out and on our way to Bolivia.
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