Taken from the Train
Between Ollantaytambo and Aguas Caliente
March 10, 2009: Ollantaytambo to Machu Picchu
Dear Grandma,
This morning, our group left Ollantaytambo in a flurry of activity. After breakfast – sweet potatoes, hot dogs, soupy eggs, elderberry jam, and coca tea – our tour guide had to get 29 people and all of their luggage to the train station. That’s right: luggage. It seems that most people were afraid of leaving their belongings back in Cusco, so the hotel porter had to load up all of these heavy bags in a bicycle-like contraption to haul it down the street. Later in the day, this would be even worse as some of the group left the train to hike on the Inca Trail – and the rest of us were stuck with their baggage.
Americans. Sometimes, we have no common sense.
To summarize: Rush to the station. Grab the tickets. Pull out the passports. Load up the Vistadome. Head through the Sacred Valley. Ignore the announcements and hang out the window to take pictures of the breathtaking views. Lose a few people to the Inca Trail. Arrive in Aguas Caliente, wade through the market, and arrive at the Santuario Hotel.
Machu Picchu
Yeah, we climbed up pretty high for this shot
After a short break at the hotel, our group headed to the bus terminal to go up the mountain to Machu Picchu. I was a hostage to the will of the tour guide, seeing how he had all of the bus tickets and the entry tickets to the park (total cost per person ~ $60). Fortunately, P. saved the day, securing our tickets, and springing me from the group tour. While everyone else was following our tour guide into Machu Picchu, we were enjoying a $33 meal at the hotel just seconds from the entrance to the park. Lima bean salad, curry rice, trout, bread – why is the bread so amazing everywhere except the United States? I think this was the first meal in days were we didn’t have to eat French fries and rice together.
Eventually, we wandered into the park. Actually, we climbed into the park. Yeah, we are idiots. Although there is a nice, easy entrance (3 steps up), we managed to get lost and ended up climbing almost to the top of the park. I’m sure that at some point we were crawling around on illegal stairs, we were that lost.
Let’s just say that it was an Indiana Jones kind of day.
After getting almost to the House of the Guardians, we headed down towards the Temple of the Three Windows where we (inadvertently) caught up with the tour group. That’s right: we ate an entire lunch, climbed way up into the ruins, and still ended up back with the group. Maybe they were moving slow. After all, ‘Lucy’ was hauling around a big black bag of goodies. [Note: This was after our guide told us to leave everything at the hotel except for a raincoat, sunscreen, and a bottle of water.] P. has skills though; she managed to keep us from merging back into the group. Instead, we found an outcrop and sat around for a while, watching the llamas (say: yah-mas) play in the courtyard.
Quizzical Critter
In the courtyard at Machu Picchu
I have to say this: You know how most places don’t live up to the hype? How you get all worked up about going someplace, only to find the reality to be a bit anticlimactic? Well, this is not true of Machu Picchu. This place was beyond my wildest imaginings. You really can’t understand the magnitude of the place until you’ve been there. I mean, I can’t even think about the amount of manpower it took to build this place.
So, we sat there, watching the llamas climb the stairs, watching the clouds swirl around the mountains, watching the tourists march by, and getting bit by some weird little Peruvian equivalent of a chigger. [Note: You should see my legs. I shaved over them when I got home and now I have a bloody mess on my calves. Ouchie!]
Meditation time aside, P and I went our separate ways for a while. I made my way to the back of the site, finding the Ceremonial Rock near the entrance to Waynapicchu. And then, my map reading skills went haywire and I ended up getting a bit lost in the industrial sector of the ruins. Every time I thought I had a path back to the main courtyard, I ended up in one of three places: facing a llama with a mouthful of grass, standing on the ledge of a cliff, or staring out the window of a room in the ruins. At one point, I ended up trapped on a stairway by a tour group that didn’t want to move. Overall, it was pretty fun … and then I came to the staircase that reminded me that I’m not too fond of heights. Those Incan people must have had teensy, tiny feet because my size 8 Doc Martins were pretty long for the stones!
Viscacha, near the Temple of the Condor
At least, a Flickr person said it was a viscacha.
Me? I thought it was a chinchilla.
When we did meet back up, P and I headed down to the Temple of the Condor where we saw the cute little guy above. Now, we thought it was a chinchilla, but I have since been corrected. Apparently, it is a viscacha. [Oh well.] Then we went back to the Temple of the Three Windows because P wanted to wait for her family to return from their seven hour hike on the Inca Trail. We kept staring up at the Guard House, waving at the wrong people. I’m sure they thought they were crazy, especially the one guy who I ended up next to on the bus back to Aguas Caliente!
M and the kids finally finished their hike, but the guards wouldn’t let them into Machu Picchu proper. M was a little more ingenious than the rest of the group, dodging the guards to get down to us, but eventually they caught up with him and we all had to head for the exit. Go figure, eh? You hike four miles in seven hours (that’s how strenuous it is) to get to the place, but then you’re not even allowed to look around!
Later that evening: Back at the hotel, irony rang supreme. Even though we were in Aguas Caliente, the hotel’s supply of hot water was spotty at best. Plus, the shower leaked so much that I had to roll up my pants’ legs just to take a piss. My poor roommate tried to squeegee the gray water down the drain in the middle of the room, but she wasn’t very successful.
I could talk more about the evening, but really, it was predictable. More fries and rice, this time with salty chicken that hardly anyone ate. Someone thought she lost her purse, only to find it hanging on the back of her chair. The hotel had wonderful Pisco sours which helped me to sleep despite the sour muscles in my ass and thighs. One couple had a funny little tiff about a bottle of water which was so similar to the spats that The Coach and I have when we’re on vacation that I almost laughed out loud.
More later,
Disenchanted
