Peru - Machu Picchu


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South America » Peru » Cusco » Machu Picchu
May 22nd 2007
Published: May 22nd 2007
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We stocked up on food, rented hiking poles, and left Cuzco briskly, at 6:00 am. We had a private transportation to Mollepata, the starting point for our 6-day hike around Salkantay, at 6,200 m the 3rd highest mountain in Peru, and later joining the classical Inca trail leading to Machu Picchu. Strangely, our tour agency arranged a mid-size bus for just the two of us. Even more strangely, we had 4 locals accompanying us on the first part of the trip - a guide, a cook, an assistant cook, and a horseman - and 4 horses to carry our luggage and food, all of this just for two tourists! While quite uneasy at first with the luxury (the cook even warmed water for us three times per day so we could comfortably wash ourselves before every meal!), we slowly came to appreciate it as we hiked in the high altitude and often woke up with freezing temperatures at night. Our guide Joseph was young, a 25-year old recent University graduate, but very friendly, and spoke hardly any English so we had a chance to practice Spanish with him. The cooks were absolutely amazing. Apparently, every February when the trail closes for maintenance all guides and cooks take cooking, history, and biology classes in Cuzco. It showed. Muchas gracias senores!

The walk and the setting were absolutely spectacular. I would highly recommend this trip to anybody; definitely beats the regular 4-day Inca Trail. Anyone who met me on this trip knows that I am obsessed with taking pictures of the flowers, rocks, and most of all berries. Laura would tell you that we had many picture breaks here. I was in heaven. Snow-capped mountains, cold water streams rushing in the valleys, blooming orchids, lupens, cactus, nature only occasionally interrupted by a sheep farm or stone formations built by people as wind breakers or walls to keep sheep together at night. For the first 2 days, we have not met a single tourist. Let me say that I had few spiritual moments here as I rested on ancient walls, looking at mountain peaks wrapped in fog levitating above the valley…

The first night we camped at a valley 4,000 m in altitude overlooking the sacred Salkantay mountain. The altitude showed. I can only speculate that hadn’t Laura had a boyfriend in the US our sleeping bags would have been joined that night. It was that freezing cold!!! I woke up at 4 am, broke the ice off the stream to wash my face, and waited for the sunrise, sipping on a coca tea prepared by the horseman who had already been up getting the horses ready for the day. Here I should also mention that not only Laura brought me the best chocolates ever (thank you very much!), she also smuggled the latest two issues of the Economist through the border. After 4 months of information deprivation, these two issues were the most treasured items I had in my backpack (well may be right behind the diarrhea medication), following me everywhere even on a bathroom break in the woods. I never would have imagined quite how much I would miss reading this magazine and talking about the latest issue over a breakfast or dinner at French Meadow Bakery in Minneapolis. (If my friend Rex is reading this he knows what I am talking about.) As the sun came up, I finished reading the special report on international banking and just started the report on Tony Blair and his legacy as the horseman brought me another cup of coca tea and told me the breakfast was ready. Can you imagine a better morning?

The climb on the second day was hard. We ascended over 1,000 vertical meters in just 2 hours, crossing over an overpass at 5,000 m above the sea level. Here I learned that chewing coca leaves really helps! Having stuffed my left cheek with these green leaves, I hardly felt any hunger or tiredness. No matter what anybody will tell you, this stuff is good. The leaves contain 13 active alkaloids (cocaine has only one of these), it is extremely rich in calcium (that’s why the locals have so white teeth!), it can be used to predict future (if you are a shaman), and it is hardly addictive (that’s what the dealers say). No wonder it was the most sacred plant of the Incas and it is still used in ceremonial practices.

The third day we descended into a lush forest. Here I finally found the berries that I had been bugging our guide about. Imagine a cross between a blackberry, raspberry, and black currant. Tasty! (For the real goodies, however, go to Torres del Paine in Patagonia.) In the evening we pitched the tents on a terrace overlooking the valley and a small village, and said goodbye to our cooks and the horsemen. From here on no horses were allowed and so our group of human porters grew to 10. Here we also met our future travel companions who were doing the regular 4-day Inca Trail: an American couple and an Iranian Canadian. It felt different to have so many people around. Every day, 500 people are allowed on the Inca Trail, and looking around our campsite it was obvious that we pretty much filled the limit.

We woke up with the sunrise and headed up to the Dead Woman’s path, some 1,200 meters higher than our camp site the previous night. The ascent was brutal but, empowered by coca leaves and chocolate, I speeded up to pass the crowds. I managed to shake most people off and the last half of the climb I was running uphill pretty much just with the porters. I completely forgot about hunger or thirst and not until we reached the highest point did I realize that I had failed to stop at the lunch place. Ouch! The porters convinced me that it was not worth waiting for the others since after all they (the porters) had all the food with them and so we again run together, now downhill, until we reached the next campsite. When the rest of the group arrived in early afternoon, they were not very happy. I felt terrible about making them skip the lunch! It seemed as if Laura was not going to speak with me from then on, but later she warmed up as we had a great meal and I explained that it was the porters who made me rush downhill. (I think it was really the coca.)

Besides berries, I had also been looking for lagunas to swim in, and so when the guide told me that there were two of them up the mountain close to our campsite, I was all ready to go. Unfortunately, the mountain police did not let us go, as it was getting late. Disappointed, I took my Economist, the camera, and headed uphill following the Inca Trail that we were going to do the next day. I did not regret. Sitting on the walls of an old fort, I ate just another chocolate bar (Michal from my earlier Patagonian travels can confirm that I can eat a lot of this stuff - over kilo in less than a week.), read an article on Polish twin brothers (the President and Prime minister) and trade imbalance between the US and China, and with the sun setting behind the mountains I headed back to the campsite.

The next day offered what I consider one of my favorite parts of the trail. We started tough, climbing into an overpass, but later descended into a deep valley, essentially a rainforest, abundant with flowers, mosses, and dense tree and bush vegetation. At the bottom of the valley, just as we passed a sizeable Inca fort, the original Inca Trail started (the previous part was rebuilt in 1996). After a lunch we headed uphill again, being awarded amazing views of the Wayana Picchu mountain and the Aquas Calientes valley. The descent to the next campsite was brutal but beautiful as we passed through the jungle and an incredible maze of man-made terraces to finally arrive at our final campsite. I was later told that we had descended over 3,000 stone stairs. I was staired-out.

The last day we left before sunrise, following a line of flashlights ahead of us, impatiently awaiting the view of Machu Picchu. After a 2-hour easy walk we finally arrived to the pass and the view opened up. At first I was quite disappointed; I had expected something more spectacular. However, as the sun came up and lit the ruins and as we descended even further, the setting appeared much more dramatic. Machu Picchu was definitely worth the trip, with an amazing stonework and the city seamlessly blending with the mountain (most of the stones were mined right here), but frankly, I enjoyed the track itself even more. What accentuated the experience here (a definite must if you get as far as to Machu Picchu) was the hike to Wayna Picchu, the famous magnetic and spiritual mountain overlooking the ruins. Not only you get an incredible and quite different view of the site, the climb itself is amazing. Most of the ascent follows a series of stone stairs and steps cut in the rock, often wide enough just for one person - not for those with acute fear of heights! To add another cherry on the tort, Laura and I extended the trip even further, winding our way through the cloud forest down to the Temple of the Moon. I again took bunch of flower photos and by the time we were back at the ruins it was already mid afternoon. Without a lunch and having had a breakfast at 4 am, I was quite exhausted and ready to leave the ruins. I knew that the hotel where we were staying was to be very nice, but it turned out that Laura had booked the nicest hotel in town. It was awesome (and spoiling). The hotel even had a private orchid garden (the largest in Peru), sauna, yoga gym, and a fireplace in the rooms. We both felt that this was little over the top but after 6 days without a shower (just cold rivers) and sleeping under the tent, we certainly enjoyed the extra luxury.

Next afternoon we took a train back to Cuzco, a journey that was an experience on its own. Not the train, not the scenery, but the people in it! It seemed as if the tourists never took a train before. The cameras were just flashing left and right. Later, there was a short dance performance by one of the conductors dressed in traditional cloth and a face mask. To top this out, we later had a fashion show right there, on the train! Couple hours into our trip the music suddenly changed from traditional Peruvian pipes to a techno style mix and the show started. Two young (and semi-attractive) train conductors (male and female) kept taking turns in changing into various alpaca-wool creations and dancing in the isle. The crowd went ecstatic. We arrived to Cuzco at night, had a quick dinner, and happily went to bed.

The highlight of the next morning was the visit of the exhibit of photos by Martin Chambi, a famous Peruvian photographer who took some of the first photos of Machu Picchu. (For those heading to Cuzco - the exhibit is in the Scotia Bank just off the Avenida del Sol and it is definitely worth it). Unfortunately they did not have any postcards for purchase. After the exhibit, some souvenir shopping and at noon a very sad goodbye to Laura who was heading back home…

Again solo on the trip. Where is Nick, the brave Scotsman, my past travel companion??? It turned out that I was not going to be alone for long. I met Nick the very same evening, as he just finished his trip to Machu Piccu and arrived to Cuzco the night before. We seem to be inseparable😊



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