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Published: August 18th 2010
martes, 8 de junio The reason we went back to Puno (for all the Sherlocks questioning why we would go back to a place deemed good enough for just an afternoon the first time) was that we wanted to catch the Inka Express bus to Cuzco. It's a guided tour via some of the more interesting Inca spots and helps break a 7-8 hour journey by adding in education. Well worth the fortune we shelled on it. The bus left early in the morning so we arrived at the bus station as the sun arose, only to find the bus wasn't there. Just us and 3 Chinese girls with Hello Kitty and Cookie Monster luggage did little to ease our fears that the bus might not show and we would miss out on Machu Picchu. Turned out Inka Express had informed the French Exchange tour of the delay but not where the 5p courtesy wasn't cost effective.
The reason for the delay - strikes in Cuzco. Vehicles at a halt, vehicles attacked with stones. Gotta love South Americans and their commitment to chaos.
A full-grown beard and a humorous incident involving a bag of live chickens in the luggage
hold of a bus (one escaped) later and we set off. Firstly through Juliaca without stopping - our third time in under a week - where our guide claimed the locals were the smartest people on Earth. A bold claim.
"They can copy anything," he said. "You want a pair of Mikes, Abibas or Bumas you get here."
Seems like a smart person would get a job and buy a real pair.
"You see these houses without rooves?" he continues. "In Juliaca finishing a building means taxes, so people build 3/4 houses."
Seems like a smart person would get a job and not get wet when it rains.
It's all about perspective.
The tour took us to four places, 3 significant to the Incas and the other not so much. We stopped off in a museum that banned photos of all the interesting bits (statues of Gods that eat people), a significant high-point (can't remember why) and an old Inca village with what remained of a huge temple and parts of the original Inca trail which is apparently thousands of miles long and not just the 40km we plan to walk.
The other stop-off was a church.
Built by the Spaniards who effectively destroyed most of the buildings we have come here to tourorise. It's known as the South American Sistine Chapel, the art on the walls pailing in comparison to the back wall completely covered in gold. Don't even ask the cost - whatever it is it curdles the stomach to think of the charity it could have been spent on. And we had to pay to get in - f***ing cheek of it.
Upshot of the day, we arrived on the outskirts of Cuzco 2 hours later than planned, got into an unmarked cab (we're definitely dead) and had to get out miles from the hotel because the road had been torn up. So late we missed our Inca trail briefing. We'll just pack sandals and a toothbrush then huh?
miercoles, 9 de junio At 'what the f*** time do you call this?' o'clock we received our briefing. Pack no more than 6kg less 2.5kg for sleeping bag and mat. Not much for 5 days, underwear can be worn inside out right? Apparently it's gonna get cold enough to knock your toes off with a hammer too so the heavy clothing is a
Guinea pigs
They eat them over here, so this is the livestock.must. Fine. Commando.
Into the bus we got, our group of 15 seems friendly enough. Today the Inca trail does not begin but a pre-season friendly with the Sacred Valley. Firstly to Ccaccoccollo, more c than the coast of India, for GAP Adventures to justify its premium with evidence of its community contribution. I have always been sceptical of commercial entities trying to parade themselves as holier than thou when mostly the charity they partake comes from the consumer and not the final profit line but that's for another diary. IT'S ALL JUST MARKETING!!!
Rant aside the project provides the women of the area with alpacas to be used in the wool making business. Alpaca wool commands a high price ; 40 soles for 2 balls you'd expect them to come from a famous alpaca, or at least one that's done some television. GAP's 20 million buses passing through implore you not to tip for taking photos (so as not to encourage begging), the locals must hate it. A little bit of the soul stolen and not even some rice to show for it. All the women of the community help each other make this a viable lifestyle
so we can't complain too much.
A brief stop at a mirador overlooking the Sacred Valley (so named for its fertile land) helped slow the onset of car sickness.
The education packed day continued with a trip to Pisaq, the largest Inca town in the Sacred Valley. This way via the mountainous highway with a boulder on it large enough to affect the tides. No lie it took an entire side of the road. The town itself was built into the hills for protection, as all the good civilisations do, with hunormous graded steps used for farming the land. You know that evolution of man picture? That's how long it would have taken to make. Aside from the town 10,000 holes in the mountain existed as tombs. Once full of gold, now it's empty like a drug user's mum's jewelry box.
Lunch was unnecessarily extravagant but good. Apparently it's to ensure that no-one embarks on the 40km trail with the sh*ts.
Via a mass-produced souvenir market where Rivelino (the guide) bantered about it "helping the economy" we headed to Ollantaytambo. Another mountain town with its stepped landscape, this particular place was more significant as a place
of worship and gateway to the Empire (hence first line of defence). Getting all the rocks up here must have caused a million hernias. Or "what the hell is this big, black lump sticking out of my stomach?" as it translates in Quechuan.
It's early but already we sense some resentment towards the Spanish from Rivelino RAMOS. The destroyers of his ancestry. He's fighting a losing battle with me championing the incredibility of the Incas. Europeans had guns and boats. That's better right? In any case, he's alive so his ancestors didn't die. Just like your parents or grandparents in WWII.
At Ollantaytambo we bedded after a get to know you drink. In Bjorn and Chris' case, two of the Norweigans on the trip, case, several. In one beer's time, Bjorn had had 3 cocktails (including one lethal one with about 20 shots in it), a beer, a hot chocolate and a gallon of petrol. He barely noticed. Those two and us two found an English bar selling Samuel Smith beers. Cashback!
Saw a place called Sanctuario de Huanca today. I always found my room plenty enough sanctuary.
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