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Published: September 28th 2007
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Pisac
A lady selling natural dyes Cusco - Pisac - Urubamba - Ollantaytambo - Agua Calientes (Machu Picchu) - Cuscu
We arrived in Cuzco the with same intentions as the thousands of other travelers who visit there, to see the Sacred Valley and visit the famous and mysterious site of Machu Picchu. Cusco was susprising; chock a block with trendy cafes, resturants, bars and the usual artisian fare.... no doubt due to the many visitors it receives day in, day out. We soon discovered that it wasn´t going to be cheap getting to and from machu picchu directly. So being wary of overpriced travel agents and budget conscious, over a plate of the local fave (roast guinea pig) we divised an economical travel route through the Sacred Valley. Early the next day we left town and headed to Pisac. The Tourist informaiton office informed us there would be no problems with purchasing tickets for the ruin in Pisac itself. We searched high and low for the ticket office, but to no avail and the locals then informed us that we needed to have bought it back in cusco. However, the local taxi driver´s believed that there was no need for us to return to cusco..... if you
Pisac
Looking at weaving done by women living in the hills get up early enough and beat the guards who only patrol one entrance of the site we shouldn´t need a ticket. So that´s what we did; we awoke before sunrise and hopped in a cab, which sped to the front entrance, and sure enough no guard. There stood before us several km´s of skillfully constructed buildings made from stone cut to various sizes, gloriously forming the left overs of a once great and mighty Inca citadel, with a ceremonial center, working water channels, temples and a military area. All perched atop a steep mountain, with terraces of 15ft high stretching for 100 or so mtrs down the mountain side. We roamed in amazment with the ruin to ourselves. I searched for anything the archeologists might have missed. Nothing.. I think it´s only fair to say, this doesn´t really look like a standard ruin.. it looks almost new, perfectly put back together by very determined archeologists. The hours passed quickly, so we made our way back the long way home along a winding Inca trail down the hill, thinking we would be avoiding the entrance gate. However, on the way out we encounted a second ticket office that we hadn´t been
Pisac
Eating the giant corn known as ´choclo´ (this is also what they make their local alcohol out of as well!) told about and a curious guard (who, after all, could have sold us a ticket!) asked to see our tickets. Narelle the fast thinker replied "Ruins? What ruins.. we were only out for a walk." We collected our belongings and made for the next town of Urubamba. We found cheap but comfortable accomodation, and want in search of their local ruin. Not so impressive.... it was seen within minutes and we decided upon beer concidering the Valley was lower in altitude! It was there at a local milkbar selling beer that we met one of many friendly locals. With an invitation to dance, Narelle and I headed to his family´s house for a coldie, a boogie and a chance to practice spanish over dinner ( the best roast chicken ever!!). The party didn´t stop there. When we arrived back to our accomodation, out front, below our window was a noisy street party for what we assume was a saints day(?). We only went down to watch but ended up dancing the night away, swinging between the little kids taking turns to dance with us and sleasy couples wanting to take us home to do a bit of swinging later. I
Pisac
The local kids from the hills dress in traditional clothing and ask to have their photo taken for money though it rude to refuse, so drank a lot of the local brew of fermented maize.. mmmm. We awoke late the next day and filled up on coffee and breaky and made for another site, that of the the Salinas (salt pools). Stacked accross the mountain side lie 1000´s of pools of salt drying in the hot sun. The Incas started these years back and it has since been carried on and extended upon by the locals. The next town in the Valley, Ollantaytambo. Following the advice of the 83 year old owner of a decent cafe and local community project, we again found our way into the local ruins free of charge. Although this time it involved the skillful avoiding of the roaming guards. That down and another town ticked off the list we made for the final town of Agua Calientes ...... the home of the main event, Machu Picchu. Given no choice, tourists are forced to catch the expensive train there. But we took the cheapest option and left in the night. We arrived late and woke at 4am to try to be some of the first to arrive at the gate to catch the sun rise.
However, this is a bit of a myth as you can´t actually enter the site until 6.00, when the sun has already risen. We weren´t the first, but in the first few hundred to arrive. The gate opened and following the advice of another traveler, we made our way through the maze of stones and terreces and waited until 7am for another gate to open, this one for Huayna Picchu. High ubove M.P stands some more amazing old ruins and a great view of M.P. We climbed the steep stone stairway to the top for the amazing view over the Valley and surrounds. We sat and waited amongst the clouds, waiting for them to clear..... It didn´t happen and hunger crept in.... it had been a very hard climb (a sign at the gate had read" only for people of reasionable fitness"). So we made for the ruins below. M. P was only discovered by an American in 1911, although the locals had been quietly enjoying it for years before. It now looks more like a country club with its manicured lawns, kiosk and token llama. The bus up was expensive enough so we walked back to town down more
steep stone steps, taking little over an hour. Exhausted, we ate and napped in the afternoon. The next morning, due to our cheap train tickets, we had to leave at 5.30.....we nearly missed the train due to the alarm not alarming us..... but we made it due to Narelle´s natural ability to save the day! Once back in Cuzco we collected our big bags and booked in for the 18hour journey to Lima. Our maniac bus driver felt it necessary to go foot to the pedal. We spent more time overtaking in the other lane than driving in our own and apparently there´s no such thing as a blind spot to be wary of, not even around corners. The white nuckle ride ended safely and on time in Lima, although we were feeling a little motion sick. Paul(author) and Narelle(copy editor)
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