Yes, Machu Picchu is amazing
My first morning in the little town of Aguas Calientes I got up early, took a few photos of the town waking up and hopped on a bus up to Machu Picchu.
The bus was the easy option. I could have walked. I considered walking. Once we got to the base of the mountain though... yeah, I'm glad I took the bus. Here's a photo I took from the top so you can see the road.
Bit steep. Also quite a long way for someone with my level of
At first, I thought about following the path up towards the Sun Gate, where the Inca Trail enters the site. I decided against it after I got stuck behind the slowest walking people ever and instead wandered into the lower part of the site.
The mountain in the back is Huaynapicchu and if you have the right ticket you can go up it. I didn't and I didn't really fancy hauling my legs up it either. Actually, coming down would probably have been more painful - my right knee's been playing silly buggers on downhills the last week or two. Mmm, crunchy.
Anyhoo, Machu Picchu reallly is as amazing as I expected. Sure, I know a lot of the site has been restored, but there's so much there. Only 2500 tickets are available for each day, so on such a huge site it's easy to find a quiet spot where you can pretend you're the only person there.
This is the Templo del Condor - the boulders supposedly represent the wings and the large flat stone on the ground is the head. Like a genius, I didn't go with a guide, so I picked up most of my info from eavesdropping on other people.
I even remembered to take a photo of Harold.
I spent the whole morning there. I would happily have spent longer, but I accidentally wandered out of the exit. That turned out to be a good thing because just as I was debating trying to get back in, the heavens opened, so I joined the queue for the bus instead.
After a wiggly windy ride back down the mountain, I... what did I do? Umm... time to consult the journal.
Oh, of course, I went for pizza. And lemonade, because I discovered the Peruvians have good lemonade. Also, the WiFi at my hostel in Aguas Calientes was atrocious so I planned on filching it at the restaurant instead.
After stuffing myself with delicious pizza and discovering that I'd managed to sunburn my scalp (note to self: buy a sunhat), I headed back to my room where I spent the rest of the day squeeing over how awesome Machu Picchu had been, reading and trying to do some planning for National Novel Writing Month, which is coming up in November. It was lovely to have a room to myself to just relax for a while.
Are there jaguars round here?
On my final day in Aguas Calientes I enjoyed a beautiful morning reading, another trip to a restaurant to steal WiFi and then a gorgeous, if rather warm stroll along the river back to the gate to the Machu Picchu road.
This time though, I was in search of the Manuel Chavez Ballon Museum, which is basically the museum of Machu Picchu. It's tucked down a little track just at the base of the mountain. Easy to miss.
Great little museum though. I'll admit that, for some reason, I was expecting it to be a bit dated, but it was very modern and well laid out. Really, I should have gone here first before I saw the sight because it would have made it easier to interpret what I saw.
Some really interesting artefacts, including these little llama/alpacas which may have been offerings of a sort.
Mostly, they made me smile. Also, this, which is a massive stone mortar probably used in rituals as a mirror - just fill it with water.
I couldn't help but think of Galadriel's mirror in The Lord of the Rings when I read the description. Woo, magical things.
It's only a tiny place, but worth spending an hour or so reading all the info boards - there's so much information about the site.
On leaving I managed to completely freak myself out because I first saw an agouti. These are cute little rodent things. I did a bit of cooing over the little bugger and then remembered that I was walking alone through what was effectively jungle. Thank you for reminding me of that, agouti. Admittedly only the very edge of the jungle, but there's scary things in jungles.
Of course, I then heard a noise. To my freaking out brain it sounded an awful lot like a roar. And my freaking out brain went "ARGH! JAGUAR!".
Fortunately my rational brain overruled that. I'm not sure how. But I'm pretty sure I would have been warned if there were jaguars in the area.
I did see some other wildlife on my way back to the town though. First, another agouti, and this time I got a photo.
Then, a blue bird of some sort. I had to take the photo from across the river with my camera zoomed a long way, so it's not the best shot ever.
If anyone can tell me what it is, I'd be very happy.
And then I spent another evening reading and writing and generally enjoying the luxury of having a single room.
Hummingbirds are fast
On the Monday morning, I made my sleepy way through an equally sleep Aguas Calientes to get my train back up the valley to the little town of Ollantaytambo.
After an uneventful train journey, broken only by the arrival of my free tea and packet of Inka Corn (it's basically a giant variety of sweetcorn, dried. Tastes a bit like popcorn... sort of), I arrived in Ollantaytambo, which I'm going to call Ollanta from now on, because it's quicker to type and that's what the locals call it.
My hostel was a good 20 minute walk along the river and I was kind of hungry, so guess what? I went for pizza. Again. That is indeed 4 days on the trot that I had pizza. In my defence, I wanted to try alpaca but the restaurant was apparently fresh out of alpaca. Enormous pizza and lemonade ensued instead.
When I did finally make it to the hostel, I really couldn't be bothered to do much. There was a tiny balcony attached to my room, with some nice views of the river.
And while I was out there, I spotted a couple of hummingbirds in the garden. I've never seen wild hummingbirds before and I was fascinated. Unfortunately, the damn things are so fast, this is the only photo I got of them.
I promise, there is a hummingbird in that photo. It shows up as a green smudge. Sort of. That's how fast these things are.
And then all the lounging happened. To be honest, I was enjoying not rushing around like I had at times in the US during the previous leg. It was lovely knowing that I didn't have to panic about cramming everything in.
Sun+altitude=ouch
Another reasonably early start on Tuesday as I headed off to the Inca ritual site in Ollanta. While commonly called a fortress, for the Incas the terraces and structures on the hillside were almost certainly purely ritual in nature.
I bumped into a London-based Belgian and Italian just inside the entrance and they invited me to join them to split the cost of a guide, which was cool - I was looking forward to having more information than I had done at Machu Picchu. Ollanta's temple complex did not disappoint.
The terraces are huge and with the increase in altitude from Aguas Calientes, I definitely felt it after we climbed up to the Templo del Sol. First, we passed the wall of ten niches, which would have been used to place offerings to the many spirits respected by the Inca.
Then we visited the temple itself. The huge slabs of stone are held together with interlocking joints. It's thought this makes them more able to withstand Peru's earthquakes than if the masons had used clay or some other material. Some of the stones are believed to weigh over 100 tonnes.
The temple, as with the rest of the Inca areas of the site, was never completed. There are various theories, most involving conflict and all dated in the final years of the Incan Empire - the Inca civil war between Huascar and Atahuallpa, the arrival of the Spanish and the final retreat of Manco Inca to Vilcabamba.
The site is also home to some pre-Incan constructions, predominantly of the Huari culture, which occupied the area almost immediately prior to the Incan conquest. These structures are more defensive in nature and the niches in this wall, while similar to the Incan Wall of Ten Niches, would have been used for storage.
Perhaps most impressive out of the whole site though are the still functioning fountains. These are part of the Incan site and have a ritual purpose to do with purification. This is the Princess Fountain.
The carving is in the shape of the Chakana - the Andean Cross - a motif which appears across this and other Inca sites.
At this point, my camera pulled a big fat nope on me. Apparently I'd taken far too many pictures and the battery died. Fortunately, I'd managed to make my way arouund the entire site by then, so I hurried back to the hostel to recharge. At which point I also discovered that I'd got sunburnt.
Yeah. I was so focussed on the history and beauty of the ruins that I'd forgotten that a) the sun is stronger at higher altitudes and b) subsequently forgotten to reapply my sun cream. This resulted in a nicely ouchy back and additional ouch to my already singed scalp. Well done, me.
While my camera was charging, I finally gave in to curiosity and grabbed a cup of free coca tea from the kitchen. Tastes a bit like green tea and I'd been informed by other guests that it wasn't a bad idea to start drinking it before you got up to an altitude where you started getting altitude sickness symptoms.
Eh, I figured, I was going to be in Cusco again the following day and I didn't fancy another day of breathlessness. Might be worth a try.
Camera recharged, I headed back into the town centre, where I grabbed a late lunch at Hearts Cafe near the main square. This place supports local communities with school and medical supplies. It also had an alpaca burger on the menu. So, of course, I had to try it. Alpaca is yummy.
After late lunch, I took a stroll in search of some of Ollanta's smaller ruins. First, I located Punku Punku, which is part of a possible defensive wall. There was a traffic policeman there, who called me over while I was taking photos.
Oh shit, I think, does he think I'm taking photos of him? Is he going to tell me off or something? Shit shit shit.
Hola! I say, dreading his response. Instead, he smiles, introduces himself as Mauricio and asks my name. OK, this I can handle. I introduce myself and tell him I don't speak much Spanish. He proceeds to rattle off something in Spanish out of which I catch the words Punku Punku and not a lot else. I figure he's telling me about the wall. I smile and nod and tell him thank you for the information. I can at least say that in Spanish.
Well done, me. Almost conversation in Spanish? Check. Not getting arrested? Check.
I said goodbye to friendly Mauricio the Policeman and headed back into the town. Specifically, I was in search of the oldest part of town. Ollanta can lay claim to being one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the Americas, because the old part of town has been occupied since Inca times. And indeed, some of the houses also date back that far, in part at least.
The stone lintels and trapezoidal shape of the doors give away the Inca construction here. I think this area of Ollanta is probably the prettiest.
Oh, and that's not to mention the drainage and irrigation system, probably also Inca in origin. I even managed to get one of those fancy water-blurring shots. Clever me.
Not bad for one day.
I'm going to die...
I had planned on spending the morning exploring a bit more of Ollanta. However, while I have become a bit more relaxed about travel arrangements since I set off on this trip, I am still paranoid about getting places at reasonable times. As a result, I ended up heading back to Cusco a bit earlier than planned and not seeing any more of Ollanta.I did have a reason to be a bit cautious about making it back to Cusco at a sensible time - the only ways back from Ollanta were a local bus (terrifying), a taxi (as a solo female... not taking the risk, or a colectivo, which is effectively a shared taxi, usually a minibus.
I planned on getting a colectivo and had been told that they usually left from near the station just after the trains got in from Machu Picchu. Great, only I couldn't find a timetable for the trains and believe me, I looked hard because I didn't fancy getting stuck in Ollanta, forced to choose another transport option.
So instead I wussed out and went down to the station at about 10am. After all, my train had got in around that time, so I figured there was a good chance of the same happening again. To my utter delight, a colectivo was already loading up when I got down there and I piled in with a group of Spanish tourists.
I'd been told that the drivers usually waited until the minibus was full before leaving, but my guy was clearly impatient, because he set off with the bus half full - me, the Spaniards, an Asian girl who didn't say a word the entire trip, a couple of Aussies and 2 local ladies.
After rattling over Ollanta's narrow, cobbled streets, we were soon haring down the Sacred Valley's winding roads. I found myself on more than one occasion clinging to the seat for grim death as the driver threw the bus around hairpin bends and insisted on overtaking pretty much anyone he ended up behind. Even the massive lorries that were definitely blocking his view of the road ahead.
As we approached Cusco, I started feeling the altitude. This was unpleasant, but not as unpleasant as the sudden realisation that I didn't know where my hostel was - I had an address, but no map or directions. As soon as the driver dumped us off in Plaza de San Fransisco, I trundled off in the direction of Plaza de Armas - the main square. At least, I hoped I was going the right way, because I had a vague recollection of seeing a Starbucks there and if Peruvian Starbucks was anything like Starbucks anywhere else, it would have WiFi and I could find my hostel.
Fortunately, my sense of direction is pretty good, so I found the square and its Starbucks easily. A massive cup of hot chocolate and gloriously good WiFi later, I set off back the way I came, having discovered that if I'd just backtracked along the colectivo's route for 5 minutes, I would have found the hostel.
I definitely felt the altitude then. There's only a very slight hill up to the hostel, but I nearly passed out while I was checking in. Urgh. After a few minutes recovering, I set off again, back across the Plaza de Armas and up the hill to the hostel I'd stayed at on my first arrival in Cusco last week and where my big bag was being stored.
Bag retrieved, I tramped off again, cursing the altitude and my unhappy lungs. On the way back to the new hostel, I stopped in at one of the hundreds of agencies in the town centre and booked a trip for the next day.
How I didn't pass out when I finally arrived back at the new hostel, I do not know. I might have spent quite a long time sprawled on the bed going "urghhhhhh" until I managed to engage in conversation with a couple of my fellow guests. Woo, I can be social even when I feel shitty. Getting good at this.
You're sure it's not alien?
Fortunately, I was feeling better the following morning and after stuffing my face with the hostel's free breakfast and downing a cup of coca tea, I headed out on a bus trip.First stop, the salt ponds known as Salineras.
There are over 4000 of these ponds across this hillside, all fed by the same, single spring. Each pond is owned by a local family and the area has been worked for salt since pre-Inca times.
Following Salineras, we headed through the little village of Maras, where many of the salt pond families are from, and on up a rough road to the amazing Inca site of Moray.
The concentric terraces that make up this site (and there's 3 sets of them, only 1 restored), are aligned with respect to sun and wind in such a way that the temperature difference between the highest and lowest terraces can reach 15C. The lowest, most sheltered terrace can reach 38C. Considering that Moray is at around 3800m above sea level, that's a pretty impressive temperature.
The theory goes that the Incas built this site as an agricultural research station. Their empire stretched across several climatic zones and they could have brought crops from all of those regions to Moray and seen how they grew in different conditions just by growing them on different terraces. They could even have attempted to adapt them to slightly different temperatures by growing them on successive terraces over the years.
Personally, I reckon this is the inspiration for the alien spaceship site featured in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull...
The site also has some ritual significance, due to the Incan world view and is dedicated to Pachamama, the Earth Mother who the Incas believed provided them with the earth's bounties.
From Moray, we drove back along the road to Cusco, stopping in the small town of Chinchero where there's a cooperative of local ladies who weave beautiful Quechua inspired items. First, we were given a cup of coca tea. Much appreciated, given that Chinchero is at even higher altitude than Cusco.
Then the ladies demonstrated some of the natural dyes they use to colour the wool. I was amazed at how many colours you can get from cochineal - the classic beetle derived dye which is usually red. It can also be purple, a more orange-red and with the addition of sea salt, a much brighter orange.
Following the dye demonstration, the ladies showed us how they weaving the coloured wool into beautiful cloths.
I definitely debated buying something from them, but I wasn't going to be pressured into it. In the end I left with nothing. There was nothing in the shop area that really jumped out to me and while I like to support local projects, I won't buy things just because it feels nice. I need to actually want it.
On return to the hostel, my roommates invited me to join them in the bar. I've barely drunk since I left the UK - a couple of ciders in Canada and a couple of glasses of free wine at hostels. But I had wanted to try out Pisco Sour, which is something of a Peruvian national drink.
It's delicious. I was a bit bemused when the barman added an egg white to the mix, but it was yummy. There was a pisco demonstration in the bar that night as well, so I nabbed a free shot of Machu Picchu, which is a pisco based cocktail.
Orange juice, grenadine, pisco, mint liquer. Yum.
Mmm, mojito
To my complete surprise, I woke up the next morning with no hangover. Although, I never used to suffer much from spirits. This was great, because I headed out on a free walking tour from the hostel in the morning, led by friendly local Freddy.I'm glad I'd been on the coca tea again at breakfast, because the first bit of our tour involved walking up Calle Amargura, which is one steep hill. It has steps, which I generally find make hills even tougher.
From there we walked up to the church of San Cristobal, which has some excellent views out across the city.
It is also built on top of an old Inca religious site, a tactic of the Spanish to win the locals over. At the back of the square is a wall belonging to another Inca site - this one possibly an old palace. Apparently descendents of Incan royalty still live there.
From San Cristobal we headed towards San Blas, stopping along the way for Freddy to tell us that his family are descended from the last Spanish-appointed governor of the region, the governor being descended from Incan royalty. Freddy is very proud of this. I think it's pretty cool.
There are some very cool looking little passages in this area of Cusco. This is Calle Siete Diabolos - the street of seven devils.
There's also a Calle Siete Angelitos nearby in the San Blas area - seven angels. San Blas itself is considered the artistic district.
We finished the tour just off the Plaza de Armas, with its huge cathedral.
I walked back to the hostel with a Chilean guy who wanted to practise his English. That made for an interesting conversation as we both tried speaking English and Spanish to make ourselves understood. He told me my Spanish pronunciation is pretty good, which is nice. If only I spoke more of the language.
Back at the hostel, I spent the afternoon booking a flight from Chile to Australia and sorting out my visa for Australia. Apparently the Aussie visa site is super clever and can send through grant notification emails before you get the email to say the application is pending. Time travel, clearly. At least it's sorted.
And then, because I was feeling remarkably social again, I had a mojito with one of my roommates. I forgot how much I love mojitos.
All in all, my first week in Peru has gone pretty well. I've successfully negotiated the language barrier, seen a whole load of amazing Inca sites and rediscovered my social drinking side. Next week I'm heading even higher into the Andes to Puno, which sits next to Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. I might go on a homestay on one of the islands.
Better not count on the islanders speaking English...
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