The Sacred Valley captivates and enthralls


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South America » Peru
March 9th 2012
Published: June 16th 2017
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Inca agricultural research stationInca agricultural research stationInca agricultural research station

Each terrace gained them 15 degrees Celsius, so they could experiment with what crops would grow at which altitudes.
Geo: -13.2646, -72.2658

Taking off on this day long tour with our spanish speaking driver Hector, the intent was to grab an English guide at each archaeological site we visited.

Wrong. The whole day was in Spanish, but it was delightful. You know how much we loved Machu Picchu, but as we wander through this culture, we're finding MP was only one mind boggling site among many. MP is the poster child of an entrancing history, and rightly so, but it alone cannot tell the tale.

Questions like, what can you grow at this altitude? How do you water it? What should the soil consist of?

Hidden deep in country accessed only by muddy roads not fit for 4x4's lies a most unique sight that can supply part of the answer.

It's famous for it's amphitheater like appearance made up of several terraces maybe 12-15 feet deep and descending into the earth 300 feet.

It's an Inca agricultural research station and each descending terrace gained them 15 degrees Celsius. Here they experimented with which crops grew best at which altitudes and watered it all with irrigation systems that would make any hydrologist proud.

It's believed they grew more than 250 plant species here, and there are
Stone steps embedded in terrace wallsStone steps embedded in terrace wallsStone steps embedded in terrace walls

See the stone steps? They're made of stones wider than those used for the terrace so they stick out forming a staircase.
four of them.

Circles, I mean.

Standing over these circles it became apparent how committed the Inca were to Pachamama (mother earth). They worshiped her and because they did, they didn't contaminate the water or the earth.

The hundreds of irrigation canals that ran through their communities were clean enough to drink out of when the Inca ran things--they were respectful stewards.

As we slipped and slogged our way back towards the highway we turned off on another spur, across a great expanse of fields and down into a narrow canyon where thousands of man made catch basins hold the salty water from a small creek bubbling out of the ground.

No matter the season, this faithful little fountain delivers it's treasure in unwavering regularity.

Never more, never less, but even so, in this rainy season it's impossible to make salt. Best months are they dry ones, but it's still an engaging site. Each of these small basins belongs to a different family--together they've formed this co-op like arrangement where the pots are tended and harvested.

Our narrow muddy road hasn't gotten any wider as we climb back up out of the canyon and we're relieved when we reach the top safely.

Up on
And what is this???And what is this???And what is this???

Salt pots, each one owned by a different family. Thousands of these pots line the canyon wall.
the flat we come upon a shepherdess in charge of several families' goats. Baby lambs jump and play like they're laughing out loud beside oblivious mothers plodding along in dirty grey sameness, but for the red slash on a few heads.

What's the red for? I ask. It's to distinguish one families' goats from another. Cool--that works.

Our shepherdess looks either disgusted with her career choice or maybe with our intrusion, as her mud caked feet carry her off until she and her bleating flock become specks on the horizon.

Next we came to an ancient adobe village called Chinchero--the mythical birthplace of the rainbow--who knew???

As we went immediately to the overlook to be kidnapped by grinning and spinning indigenous women, we really can't tell you much about this country resort of Inca kings.

But we can attest to the fact that their centuries old agricultural terraces are still in use. I mean, why not? all the hard work was done 700 years ago.

We're standing at the viewpoint when someone comes up behind Bob and slips their arm through his. What's going on here? he says to himself as he turns around. And there stands the most charming smile he's seen all trip. She's going to try to sell me something! Bob determines.

But you know, she didn't.

She stands there clutching onto Bob visiting with Hector about the best place in town to lunch when I start asking her about her spinning because she's continuing to make this beautifully even thread the whole time shes talking with us. Her eyes crinkle in a sparkly laugh as she tells us she can carry the baby, spin and kiss her husband all at the same time.

The woman has won us over!

The she invites us to her studio? workshop? to see how yarn is spun and dyed, using all natural plant sources. Still latched onto Bob, she helps him up the steps as we both follow. At the top we find a several indigenous women in a wide flat market area with kiosks and scattered benches.

Bob's a little embarrassed to be the only man among a dozen gathering women and tries to slink off, but she wrangles him into her lair and these most charming women begin a captivating demonstration.

From the bowls set before us of leaves, ground seeds, flower pods and various minerals we can see the world of natural dyes is fascinatingly complex. She demonstrates with a couple of pots of boiling water off the fire. Into one she pours green leaves--they look a lot like laurel, and into another a deep red powder.

Then dips in her skein of fresh spun yarn.

Explaining how the different colors are made she shows us these tiny chalk colored bugs that live on cactus--they roll up in a ball when she touches them. With her finger squashes them until they spurt and her whole palm turns bright fuchsia.

Next comes the singing! The ladies stand spinning and singing, swaying to the beat of this favorite song as their eyes twinkle and we're caught up in this genuine outpouring of spirit.

These gals know how to market their wares! But never once to they ask us to buy anything--of course we do because we want so badly to bring home this feeling--this warm, happy, included feeling they've fostered through their outpouring of enthusiasm and friendliness.

They're not done with us though. Next she lovingly wraps us in the clothing of the highlands, grabs my camera and makes like a nat geo photographer to give us the ultimate take-away.

We'll never look at those pictures without
Natural soap--great sudsNatural soap--great sudsNatural soap--great suds

She takes a stick about 4" around and cut on the diagonal and shreds in into a bowl, adds water and whips up a natural soap they use to clean the wool. It's free, it doesn't leave a chemical smell and it doesn't contaminate the environment.
remembering that overwhelmingly warm feeling of friendship shared, the spontaneous spark that forever after marks this moment as the most unique of the entire trip.

Saved for last on this outstanding day of outstanding experiences are the ruins of Pisac. Set on a mountaintop high above a patch work valley of fields and streams, and rimmed by vast circling terracing sits a sun temple to rival anything at Machu Picchu. Below it on the terraces lies a neighborhood laid out in the shape of a condor--see the head and beak on the left and the wide wings arched backwards. This is where the farmer families lived who tended the terraces.

Now that's city planning! Course, it's not unique to Pisac. After all, Cusco was built in the shape of a puma.

Above the sun temple lie more ruins mostly unexcavated, and in the rocky craigs and overhangs are found ancient burial sites, many looted.

We picked up a guide on the mountain who claimed to have some English and he and I began a climb. By now Bob and Hector had returned to the warmth of the car as the ubiquitous afternoon wind was starting strong.

Up a path almost wide enough for two we climbed --sometimes steps carved from solid rock --sometimes stones carefully laid in interconnecting puzzles. He kept me on the mountain side as I guess it's poor form to loose your tourist down the side of the cliff. But eventually we made it to the Inca tunnel, an area they mined for rock left by a meteor--very tough rock they could make tools of for shaping stones in temples and homes, as they had no iron.

The climb was exhilarating! I felt on top of the world as I peered over the side and took my pictures. This must be what it feels like to be a bird up here where your only accompaniment is the wind driven condor.

Sitting before the fire that evening our hostess brought us fresh chocolate coconut pecan cake, as she could see we didn't have the energy to go out for dinner.

What a lovely place to stay. Be sure to include Samanapaq in your stay at Ollantaytambo--it's the perfect base for exploring the Sacred Valley and better hosts simply cannot be found.



Additional photos below
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Natural dyes also used as natural makeupNatural dyes also used as natural makeup
Natural dyes also used as natural makeup

This little girl was adorable and was learning how to spin just like her mother.
Bug dye on top, salt added turns it orangeBug dye on top, salt added turns it orange
Bug dye on top, salt added turns it orange

She demonstrates how adding a spoonful of salt can change the color of the dye.
Potatoes!Potatoes!
Potatoes!

Peru has 2,000 different types of potatoes. These look more like flowers for the market.
See the condor?See the condor?
See the condor?

The beak on the left--wings spreading out to the right. This community is laid out in the shape of a condor.
Indigenous mother and sonIndigenous mother and son
Indigenous mother and son

As we emerged from the Inca tunnel, this mother and son came up behind us. They live 10km back in the hills and this kid has to walk to and from school--20km every day up and down this mountain. I was so proud of her for sending her son to school.
Stairsteps leading to Inca tunnelStairsteps leading to Inca tunnel
Stairsteps leading to Inca tunnel

You notice the straight drop off? Yes, I did too.


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