Hiking and hot water

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Geo: -13.1628, -72.5158

"Will someone please tell the cockerel that it's not light yet?" Were pretty much to he first words that everyone uttered using being roused at 4am, the insistent crowing going right through until our meeting time of 9am, a wonderful long lie-in pretty much destroyed by the fabulous fowl. However, after a simple breakfast, we were ready for our long day's activities to begin. Our first stop, after ambling through the narrow cobbled streets, almost deserted at this time of the morning, our only company a stooped woman in traditional dress who was hauling a huge bundle of grasses on her gnarled back. Huge blocks of stone marked the entrance to the Inca house we were here to visit - one leaning doorway the entrance to the home housing 5 different families. On hearing this, I expected the living conditions to be cramped, but we stepped out into s wide courtyard with several sturdy thatched buildings leading off it. We stepped out of the early morning heat into the pleasant cool of the home - a single room with simple beds along the back wall. In Inca families, the home is only used for sleeping and other "private" matters with most of the work being done outside in the communal courtyard. Running around at our feet, munching on the grass that had just been delivered were about thirty mewling, squeaking, scurrying Guinea pigs - not domestic pets, but ready to be killed and eaten. Cute as they were, playing tug of war with one another, creating Lady and the Tramp moments with the long blades of grass, I couldn't help but wonder how they would taste. On looking into one of the baskets at the side of the room, it was clear to see what they would look like when prepared- two shiny, skinless rodents lay on a curled pile of rope, trussed up ready for cooking,

Above the fireplace, the skulls of the ancestors gazed unblinking down upon us while three dried llama foetuses hung from the wall above our heads. Both of these were designed, like the bunch of coca leaves and herbs hanging above the doorframe, to keep away the spirits and to honour the ancestors. Hanging in the centre of the room were huge sheaves of dried rainbow trout, salted llama and grasses, safely preserved and stored in the natural air conditioning created by the holes in each wall. A ladder lead to the the second floor, where the children would sleep, and where further food could be stored away.

Leaving the Inca house behind, we continued back out into the streets, our next activity the steep, long hike to the granaries at Pinkulluna up runs, perched on a ledge high above the town. Long, wide steps lured us into a false sense of security at the bottom of the climb, but we soon found ourselves following a sharp incline as the buildings dropped away below us. Twenty minuets in, the path itself had begun to disappear, and we needed to use hands and feet to scramble across the edge of the cliff face, hauling ourselves up on boulders to continue. Eventually, after a long,mharry climb, we reached the top and were rewarded with exceptional views of the ruined city of Ollantaytambo directly opposite us, and the quaint town square and squat buildings below. The sun was blazing in the sky as we gazed down in the people at ground level, meandering around the pretty town. Mountains surrounded us and the tranquility of the site allowed us to sit and gaze out at the stunning scenery before us.

Our treacherous climb down, gripping onto the rocks with all of our strength, took longer than the incline, our knees protesting all the way, our calf muscles screaming. Little did we know, but this was a test by our leader to see if we had the required fitness and stamina for the climb to the Sun Gate at Machu Picchu tomorrow. Fortunately, we all passed and would be able to see the ruins from a bird's eye view. On reaching the bottom, we were greeted by a small group of grinning local children, all dressed in beautiful woven garments who serenaded us with a traditional Peruvian as we hobbled down the street, our destination one of the upper terraces of the bars overlooking the square, and the rugged mountains that provided the backdrop, for lunch, where we sat and watched the world go by.

Following our lunch with a view for the second day in a row, it was time to board our train, so we navigated the narrow streets once more and headed to the train station, where we were ecstatic to board a panoramic carriage, windows to both sides and all along the ceiling, allowing us uninterrupted views of what was sure to be spectacular vistas on our 90 mite journey to Aguas Calientes, the jumping off point for Machu Picchu. As soon as the train began to rattle out of he station, we knew we were not going to be disappointed. The carriages carves their way through rocky faces which towered above us, the panoramic windows asking it seem as though they were inside the carriages with us. As we snaked along, following the course of the river to our right, we were treated to sheer cliffs to one side, dense vegetation blanketing the base of the craggy peaks to the other. As we passed through a small town, a collective gasp echoed around the carriage as the snow capped peak of the Inca's sacred mountain came into view, smoke rising from its face, shrouding its jagged top in a thick white cloak that gave it a deserved mysticism.

We were almost disappointed to pull into the small town of Aguas Calientes, despite the promises it offered for the following day, so beautiful had the train journey been. The purpose built town named for the hot springs that supply it was set in a stunning green valley with water rushing under a series of iron bridges. The main square is an eclectic mix of old and new, technicolor fountains illuminated in front of Inca style buildings and relics. We left the main square and began to climb tie steep streets towards our hotel. Ten mutes later, we were still ascending, with no sign of the top of the hill. After our morning's hike, we were exhausted and desperately looking forward to the much anticipated hot springs of the town's moniker. Eventually, we arrived at our hotel and a quick change saw us ready to enter the thermal pools. However, the entrance was deceptive - there was a further long staircase to climb before we could soothe our aching muscles in the restorative waters.

Finally we were able to enter the complex - a series of purpose built pools, the water pumped in from the spring below at varying temperatures. The pools were packed with locals, enjoying the minerals provided by the waters. Entering each of the pools, the distinctive eggy smell of sulphur greeting us, we were unsure of how deep they were with each one have a different water level in it. One thing they all had in common, however, was the stony floor made up of thousands of pieces of vacancies pebbles, lifiting them out of the water, each one shimmered in the fading light, a different colour and pattern on each one. Surrounded by lush green mountains, Relaxing in the steaming water, the air temperature began to drop as we soothed away the aches of the day. Once we had had enough, we scurried back through the streets to our hotel, our towels soaking and providing little protection from the cold air. Hot showers awaited us, followed by an early dinner and we were in bed and asleep by 8.30pm ready for a sunrise start to the bucket-list ticker tomorrow.

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Comments

[Ali]

Issys been telling everyone about the roasted guinea pigs! Xx