Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley

Machu Picchu
Originally uploaded by eliahusevenseven.

It´s not easy to sleep the night before any great event, and even harder when it´s an event you´ve been looking forward to for longer than you can remember. I´d like to add here that it gets even harder to sleep when you are in a strange bed with loud music thumping through the walls and a strange smell in your nose, but above all, the excitement of visiting Machu Picchu kept me up most of the night.

Jojo and I left Qusqo on saturday morning on a tour bus to the sacred valley. It was a slightly rocky start, with a false boarding of one bus and a quick shuttling to another, and then a false report of a second bus change that never happened. But off to the sacred valley we went, a bit against our original plans, but the fates were guiding us, and we accepted our tour bus fate.

It turned out better than we thought though. Our guide was very knowledgable, spoke very clear and slow spanish so I could understand. We sat in the front right next to the guide and he was accesible for my swarm of questions. We visited Pisaq first, a town and agricultural center atop a small ridge in a beautiful valley. Snow capped peaks lined the horizon. Jojo and I asked our guide if we could go off ahead and meet them at the next spot for explanation. He understood our desire and our advante: we´d been living at nearly 4,000 meters for 3 months straight, and playing futbol and capoeira, so the high altitude that affects most tourists was actually a low altitude that is a relief to us! We took off hiking at a ¨Debbie and Rolf¨ pace (you´ll have to read my earlier posts on hiking with my aunt and uncle Debbie and Rolf to fully understand this reference, but they both walk at one speed - fast) and explored the ruins in a combination of solo wonderment and well guided information.

Next stop was lunch where we had the customary free Pisco Sour and a beer in the sun of the sacred valley floor at a road side resturant. There was a donkey eating hay behind the building. After lunch we fell asleep in the sun pouring through the windows of our bus, and on the occasions I did open my eyes I found our guide joining us in this welcome siesta. We awoke to our next stop, Ollantantambo, another series of incredible terraces with temples on top.

The terraces are between rocky outcroppings, covered with cactus and moss, and a steep stair ascends to the top of the ridge where giant (3 by 4 by 1 meter thick) stones are perfectly aligned and arranged to make temples to the sun, moon, and nature (Pachamama). We returned to the bus with our group to get our bags and belongings, this was to be our last stop with them for from Ollantantambo we were to travel to Aguas Calientes by train.

Aguas Calientes is a small town growing as fast as it can be poured into forms and covered with
brick and stucco, at the foot of the park of Machu Picchu. If you are going to Machu Picchu, this is where you stay, eat, and hopefully relax in the thermal springs the town is so aptly named for. We waited in Ollantantambo for three hours for our train and enjoyed a nice dinner in the fading light of day of the ruins above. By the time we were to go meet our train we both had a nice buz from the local beer and good spirits in the valley. Jojo had the good intuition to call a hostel and make reservations in this meantime, and we emptied the contents of her digital camera´s memory card to a cd. While waiting in line for the train we met a Peruvian couple from Lima who are both artists, also traveling to Machu Picchu, in fact there is an incredible multitude of people from all over the globe, speaking every language immaginable at this station, and on the train, as well as a totally unnecessary crush of bodies in the scramble to and from the train.

The train ride was quiet and mellow, with the thickening dark outside, we were unable to stare in awe at the incredible contryside, and instead read in peace for the hour and a half to Aguas Calientes. I had acquired a book at a cafe we had breakfast at that day, The Dispossesed by Ursala LeGuin, a local Portland Sci-Fi author who is absolutly incredible, and read in fascination the entire way. We arrived in Aguas Calientes at 9:30 and found our way to the central square and our hostel just off the square. I was innitially dissastisfied with the room and price (50 Soles/night, about $17) and instead of settling in for the night, and a short one at that, set off to see if I couldn´t find a more suitable room for the next night. I was wrong on all accounts. Thank you Jojo for being such a wonderful and intuitive person. I love you.

I was out walking the night looking around and instead of finding a cheap perfect room found the Peruvian couple from earlier. They couldn´t find a room for less than $30 per night, and they were locals!! I walked with them to help them find a room, and in case they couldn´t to guide them to our hostel in hopes they would get a room there for less. Eventually they did find a room for 30 Soles, but no hot water. They walked with me to the square and we arranged to meet the next mornign at 5 AM to hike up the Machu Picchu together. I returned to our hostel to apologize and bestow Jojo with compliments. When I got there Jojo was still up and told me our hotel host was about to return to ask us if we wanted a guide for the next day. We decided to take him up on the offer and I went with the host to meet the guide outside.

I didn´t like the guide innitially and he added to our information slightly when I asked him how long it would take to hike to the park. We´d received various answers to this question and as usual in South America there are almost no signs, and very little willingness to tell you anymore than you absolutly have to know. Some of the answers to this question were ¨An hour and a half, no less¨, ¨An hour to an hour and forty five minutes¨, and from our guide ¨An hour and forty five mintues.¨ I explained how we´d been living in La Paz and this didn´t seem to faze him, but every time Jojo and I heard an answer like this we´d exchange looks with a raised eyebrow or two and confer silently that we could do it in one hour flat. I arranged to meet our guide at 6:45 AM outside the entrance the next morning, now only 7 hours and 45 minutes away.

Shortly thereafter the couple from Lima saw me and motioned me over covertly to a bench in the square. I joined them and they told me conspiratorily that they´d met another Peruvian who´d told them of an alternate route into the park that bypassed the entrance and therefore the fee! They insisted we meet at 4:30 am at the same bench and hike in this way... discomfort settled in along with confusion, strange but common bedfellows indeed. How would I meet the guide outside the entrance if we´d already sneaked in? Was this right to do? The admission is a pretty high $25 but doesn´t that money go to preserving and restoring the park? Or is it a jacked up number to fund the economy of Peru that is now in the hands of a former ruler that was once exiled! I returned to our room to sleep but by now I was confused as well as excited and sleep seemed unlikely and a long way off.

Once inside and in bed I told Jojo of my encounters and plans with the guide. We discussed in growing discomfort and confusion the ethical issues and excitment we now shared. Along with these substantial sleep inhibitors a loud thumping bass music seemed to be growing along the walls and ceilings of our room. A strange smell and an uncomfortable bed added to these factors and unable to come to a conclusion as to what to do tomorrow, tomorrow came and sleep slipped in and out of our night like a fly in a peaceful scene.

I decide that instead of deciding I would let fate take the reins and eventually drifted into and out of dreams of unknown peaks and clouds obscuring fantastic views...