Choquequirao. Sábado 13 de octubre – martes 16 de
octubre
My next adventure is a hike to
Choquequirao, the remains of another Inca city high in the mountains. Choquequirao means 'Cradle of Gold' in Quechua. It is in
the valley of the Rio Apurimac, the next river valley west of the Rio Urubamba
where Machu Picchu is found and the site is about 60 km as the crow flies
southwest of Machu Picchu. It is believed to be much larger than Machu Picchu
but is currently only 40% uncovered, and given the difficulty of access, it
will be a long time before it is fully uncovered. There will not be the same
camera-crazed hordes here. I opt again for an organized trek. The cost is only
$190 US for 4 days for a guide, meals, mules to carry camping gear and food,
cook, and van transport to the nearest
town, Cachora, where we will start. I had tried to find a 5-day trek but
did not find one. Four days of really difficult hiking does not leave much time
to appreciate the site. Anyway, I know I am in shape as I have been running
uphill and downhill 40 min daily at Cusco’s altitude of 3200-3500 m.
I book with a tour company which has a lot of signs in Hebrew. There are
many parts of Peru and Bolivia, (as well as India so I am told) where there are
an astounding number of Israelis. It appears that the thing to do after 3 years
of military service is to go traveling. And while I have met some great
Israelis in my travels, the most common stereotype is Americanish: loud,
arrogant, demanding.
I wait for a pick-up at 5-5:30 AM. The guide, Eliseban comes by at about
5:15 and he and
I walk the 5 minutes to the main square where we are to meet the others. The night before I was the only one at the meeting place, and the numbers of who is going keep changing. I realize here that several operators are pooling clients and hiring a guide, who organizes the rest: since all of the participants I meet here have booked with different agencies. Most of the guides I have dealt with are very capable and bright people doing a complicated job extremely well and Eliseban is no exception. He is about 30, and has taught Spanish to Quechua children, worked in Europe on cruise ships, and guided for a number of years. His MO is to always be positive and encouraging. At times on this trip, his analyses appear to border on the delusional but it is hard to argue with success: i.e. the trip went well.
I walk the 5 minutes to the main square where we are to meet the others. The night before I was the only one at the meeting place, and the numbers of who is going keep changing. I realize here that several operators are pooling clients and hiring a guide, who organizes the rest: since all of the participants I meet here have booked with different agencies. Most of the guides I have dealt with are very capable and bright people doing a complicated job extremely well and Eliseban is no exception. He is about 30, and has taught Spanish to Quechua children, worked in Europe on cruise ships, and guided for a number of years. His MO is to always be positive and encouraging. At times on this trip, his analyses appear to border on the delusional but it is hard to argue with success: i.e. the trip went well.
When everyone gets together, there is a French couple, Manuel and
Anne-Lise, high school PhysEd teachers in their late 20s. Anne-Lise is also a
dancer. They are traveling for 5 months. There is also an English couple, Nigel
and Alix, professionals in their late 60s (Nigel)and late 50s (Alix). They live
in the country and are used to hard work but they are not in shape for this and
I ask them more than once before we leave if
they know how difficult this will be. They do but what I do not realize
until later is that they do have a way out. It is possible to rent an extra
mule for part or all of the trip to carry a person. They are aware of this.
We arrive at Cachora at 10 AM at the house of Mariano (the arriero or
mule driver). Gabriel, the young and quiet cook, helps Eliseban to pack the
supplies. I offer to help but they do not want help. Meanwhile, the 5 of us get
to know each other and a pattern is set up. I speak French with Manu and
Anne-Lise, English with Nigel and Alix, and Spanish with Eliseban. For the
first day or so, I keep mixing up languages. For instance, I will try to speak
French, and it is mostly Spanish that comes out of my mouth. After a day or so,
I get them straight. An early lunch is prepared and we are off at about 11:30
while Gabriel and Mariano pack the mules and then catch up to us. It is only
on the last two days that I start hiking
at their pace, sometimes ahead of them, sometimes behind. They go very fast.
(At some point in the trip, Mariano tells me his age: 63. His weather-beaten
face suggests early 60s, but he is a handsome man, and holy crap is he in
shape!!)
That first day we hike down out of Cachora, which is at 3000 m, a pretty
little town where we see cattle and pigs, as well as mules and horses being
herded through town. Then we begin to climb back up along a well beaten stony
trail. On the way, we see the inevitable Australian eucalyptus trees. I take a
small dead one and cut myself a walking
staff. With all the steep downhills, I know it will come in handy. Soon though it is very dry and we do not see
any more trees. Only cactus and some drought adapted shrubs. There is a kind of
agave cactus which is flowering. While the cactus itself is big- up to 2 m
tall- the flower stalks are about 6 m tall, maybe more, looking like young trees
with white flowers at the apex. After a
couple of hours travel, we arrive at the edge of the Rio Apurimac valley. Here
we have a beautiful view down down into the valley which flows to the
northwest. Looking down the valley in that direction and up the other side, the
distant form of Choquequirao can be made out. We can also see in the distance
snow-covered Pumasillo (6250 m) and Salcantay (6271 m). Further away is
snow-covered Ausangate which is slightly higher, and I do not believe it has
ever been successfully climbed. Local legend has it that this is due to the
Apu’s, the mountain gods, that do not want people up there.
Adjusting the load on one of the mules. When they do this, the arrieros
always blindfold. They tell me it is because the mules are smart and if they
see what is coming, they will fight. I believe it is more that a blind-folded
animal is always more vulnerable and therefore is more docile.
We are paying for using their campsite, and for showers, which have
water piped in (via gravity) from a nearby stream, which they also use to
irrigate their crops. A cold shower feels great after the hike, and we find
that the tents have been set up for us. I am not sure I would want to get used
to any of this but it is a nice change. I buy a bottle of warm coke from the
little canteen they have set up. When Anne-Lise goes to buy one too I suggest
that she run it under the tap which is leaking heavily anyway. She does and in
10 minutes has some reasonably cold Coke. I wish I had thought of that earlier.
There are other people here too. There is a small Japanese guided group; a
European family: two parents and two young adult children on their own; also an
older English doctor working in Lima and her brother who is visiting her, also
with guide.
Eliseban is sitting with the paisan whose homestead we are at and I sit
with them. He brings out a jug of chichi
and a glass. Eliseban fills the glass, pours some on the ground (for Pacha
Mama) and then drinks a cup. Refills from the jug and offers it to me. It has a
pleasant slightly sweet, fermented fruity, taste. At some point, Anne-Lise is
describing her bout of Salmonella poisoning the week before which resulted in a
doctor’s visit, some tests and antibiotics. Eliseban insists it could not have
happened in Peru, must have been in Bolivia.
We have supper and after I fill everyone’s water containers using my
water filter. It is the plastic bottles that bother me. The temperature cools
after night falls and we are in the black of a unpolluted night. Unfortunately
there are clouds but there are still some stars visible. I can see Orion
clearly as well as Jupiter so I know this is not totally alien terrain. We go
to bed and it is warm enough that I do not need the sleeping bag. Sleep does
not come and one of the reasons is in the adjacent tent. Nigel is a loud snorer
and not many people sleep well that night (except Nigel).
The next morning we are up at 4:30, eat breakfast at 5, and head out at
5:45, both to beat the heat and because it will be a long day. We are supposed to get a wake up call with a
cup of coca tea. When Gabriel comes to my tent and asks if I want some, I say
‘por favor’ by which I mean yes, and I do not know how he interprets it, but I
do not get any. I talk to Nigel about moving his and Alix’s tent away from the
rest and he is good natured about it. For the next two nights, the 10 m or so
of separation gives us all a break (except for Alix).
We are starting at 1900 m, have to climb down to 1400, and then up to
our campsite at 2900 at another homestead. From there, we have to climb down
and up another 200 m or so to Choquequirao, do a lot of climbing at the site,
and then repeat the 200 m down and up to our campsite. It will be a long day.
When we get down to the river, we find out the story of the missing
bridge. Apparently a flood swept it away (it was a large suspension bridge, 100
m across over a big rapids) last year. Instead there is now a cable strung
across with a cable car that you pull yourself across with. It does the trick, and we go across two at a
time. I am feeling great this morning in spite of the lack of sleep, and I head
off at a fast pace, leaving the others behind. Meanwhile, the arriero and
Gabriel are unloading the mules to send the gear across. Another arriero, who
lives on the other side (and at whose homestead we will camp tonight), is
waiting with mules on the other side to take the gear up the mountainside and
then back down tomorrow. There is no other
way as the mules cannot cross on the cable car.
I catch up to the Japanese: two
women and a man, early 30s and a female guide. They have started out from the
campsite a half hour earlier than us, and they maintain this pattern every day.
I walk with the guide for a bit. Her name is Juanna and she is so completely
covered up with sun hat, scarf, long sleeves, that I at first think she must be
a tourist. She has to wait for one of the women in her charge and I hike on
ahead. Soon after, she puts one of the women on a mule as she is struggling too
much. She ends up staying on the mule for most of the rest of the trek. . I
maintain a pace that is fast as I can go without hyperventilating, without
needing to stop to catch my breath. This works fine until the sun is out. By
about 8, the sun is out of the shade of the mountain and it is starting to get
really hot and I end up making a couple of stops to cool off, relax in the shade. I hike for a
while with the one of the Japanese who speaks Spanish. It turns out that she has
been working in the Japanese embassy in Lima for seven years doing research and
she is about to return to Japan. Her name is Nami, and she and I hike together
for a while. The others work with her but have only been in Lima for a year
(only??). I eventually decide to wait
for the French couple. At one point I
find a small scorpion on the trail. It appears to have two anti-predator
strategies: approach aggressively with claws out and stinger at the ready, and
then if that does not work, flatten itself out and play dead. I coax it off the
trail after taking a couple of photos. (I am a tourist after all.)
I hike with Manu and Anne-Lise for a while: Anne-Lise is finding the
heat is getting to her and she is having to slow down. After a while, I catch up to Nami and we
finish the hike together. Juanna and the other Japanese woman on the mule are
waiting and cheer us on. It is now about 11 AM, a little over 5 hours of hiking
for me.
Manuel, Anne-Lise, Nami and me after climbing down 300 m of vertical to
the Rio Apurimca and up the other side for another 1500 m of vertical, all by
11 AM. We still have a long up and down hike to the Ruins and then back (in the
dark).
There are many large agricultural terraces on the slopes on the side we
came from, and on the other side as well, only these latter lower down have
llama designs in semi-precious stones. But we do not have time to visit there.
Eliseban takes the three of us (Nigel and Alix have not got here yet) up to the
main site on the ridge. There are large areas which were warehouses for food
and supplies, and other areas which are thought to be where mummies were
readied. Unfortunately, the three of us are too tired to concentrate too much
on the details which Eliseban seems really keen to give us.
The
central portion of Choquequirao
The site
as we saw it on our approach
After the ‘lesson’ is over, I head up to a large flat open area which is
higher up, but in the direction that the ridge heads down into the valley
below. It is clearly the place, surrounded by a low wall and almost a hectare
in area, where all major ceremonies take place. The Earth drops away from here
in three directions and the wind whistles in my ears. After a little, I see
that there is a trail going down through some scrubby dense trees to a big
drop-off where the ridge changes direction heading more northerly. There are
more buildings down there including two priests’ houses, and another set of
very small dwellings (height-wise). The use of the latter is unclear. As I
follow the trail down toward the priests’ houses, I scare a snake, and hear it
begin to move through the dry leaves. Normally, I would be on it within a
second, but the trail is right below where the snake is and if I am close it
will be at head height: not a good place to be if it is poisonous, so I leap
forward to higher ground and turn to see it: gone!
Time is running out and the sun is getting close to setting. But I want
to see the view from the big drop. I get there and the wind is really powerful
from there. I love places like this, just wishing that I could, like the
condors, just step off….
By the time I get back up to the ceremonial area, everyone has either
left or is about to. Eliseban signals me to come down and he heads off. Manu
and Anne-Lise have my daypack which I had left up in the ceremonial area. We
start hiking back fast as the sun is setting. Halfway back it is totally dark.
I lend my headlamp to Nigel and continue on ahead in the dark, trying to stay
ahead where the others lights will not destroy my night vision. It is a great
hike but we are all exhausted especially Nigel and Alix who really have had no
time to rest.
Supper is a potato and corn soup and then rice and a thin fried steak
with cassava and potato and carrot. The drinks are chichi morada: a sweetened
drink made with boiled purple corn (kind of like purple koolaid) and hot water
to make tea, instant coffee or hot chocolate with. I end up eating a lot of
Nigel and Alix’s food as they are too exhausted to eat. I am starving. Nigel is
amazed at how tough the meat is, I am just grateful to have some meat. We have
also had some interesting breakfasts. They have included eggs and bread or
pancakes. Breakfast drinks besides hot water
for tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, one morning is boiled and squashed
lima beans in water with powdered milks. Another morning it is very watery
oatmeal with powdered milk. These are typical Andean breakfast fare, and they
are good to get us going in the morning.
I count up all the people that I
know who were at the site today including those we saw who were camped at a
closer campground: 18 people. A far cry from the thousands per day at Machu
Picchu. Pretty quiet times at Choquequirao, and definitely my best experience
of an Inca ruins. Of course, part of it is just that I appreciate things more
when I have to work hard for them. I tell Eliseban that ‘it was definitely
worth the trouble’. He laughs and I realize that what I have said is closer to
‘it was definitely worth the penis’. Oh
well….
We sleep in in the morning til 6 AM. Juanna and the Japanese are camped
next to us and they are getting ready to leave while we head into breakfast.
Meals are prepared and we are eating in a small square building made of adobe
bricks with a thatched roof. Between us and the roof are horizontal thin poles
forming a ceiling. Through the cracks we
can see that dried corn from the last harvest is stored there. Eliseban slept
in here last night after the hut he started the night in started leaking (it
rained during the night). He obviously did not get much sleep as he is still
sleeping as we are starting to eat breakfast. His eyes are very red, and it
turns out that he lost his sunglasses and the sun was getting to him. Today we
have to get all the way back down to the river and halfway up the other side to
a higher campground than where we camped the first night. I am still wondering
who is going to make it.
As we are getting ready, a ragged group of young Europeans (20ish)
arrive. I hear them ask the woman who lives here if they could have some
breakfast. She agrees but the little she asks for is too much and they bargain
with her. I do not know how it turns out but I find this pretty pathetic,
considering how little the people here have.
The temperature is already hot as we make our way down and down. I get
across with the French couple, we take a break there in the shade and then
start climbing. I speed on ahead and do not stop until I get to the first camp,
the one we stayed at on the first night, which on takes 45 sweltering minutes.
It is now 11. Manu and Anne-Lise arrive 20 minutes later and we take cold
showers, rest in the shade and wait. Gabriel arrives soon after and tells us
that we are going to stay here for the night instead of going up to the next
campsite later in the afternoon when the air cools a bit. Manu and Anne-Lise
have a bus to catch tomorrow afternoon and are worried about it. Meanwhile
Gabriel is making lunch in the bamboo enclosures for that purchase, and all of
a sudden big flames come out of the enclosure. I head over to see what I can
do, but he has been able to throw water on it and the bamboo is blackened but
there is no serious damage. We cook with a propane stove fueled by a large
propane tank. Gabriel does not say much but he probably just waited too long to
light after opening the valve.
I talk to an American I passed on the trail who was carrying a heavy
rucksack. Kirk is an American journalist who works for NY Times and has taken
two weeks off to hike to Machu Picchu (it can be reached via Choququirao) on his
own. He is about my age. He has had to turn back because his hiking boots have
fallen apart (they are currently held together with duct tape). He is going to
work a deal with the local paisan (I forget his name) to get his rucksack a
ride on a mule the next day to lighten the strain on his foot gear.
Around 1 PM the others arrive: Alix is riding a mule (she was starting
to faint with the heat), Nigel looks like he is on another planet (a very hot
one) and Eliseban is also looking weary. After everyone has rested and eaten, I
ask ALix and Nigel how they feel about continuing to the higher campsite giving
us a shorter day tomorrow. They are all for it. So I convince Eliseban that we
should move on.
At one point, I am chatting with Juanna, the female guide. For some
reason, she asks me how old I think she is. Dangerous territory. She is
attractive but her face is weathered enough to put her in her late 30s, but her
face is all I have seen. To be safe, I guess 33. She is only 28, and I feel
bad. I hate answering that question.
At 4:15 we leave. Another group has left just before us and apparently
came upon a poisonous snake on the road. By the time I get there it has been
dispatched and flung away. I am not in agreement but I do understand…. sort of.
As we come around a bend a loaded mule is heading our way. It stops not wanting
to come too close (they tend to be very timid). We try to move over to one side
to give it room but at that point another group comes up going in the opposite
direction (towards us). The mule is spooked and heads off the trail and DOWN
the slope, which is EXTREMELY steep. I figure we are going to lose this mule,
which turns out to be one of ours. The mule does not fall, but climbs down a
bit and then stops to munch on some leaves. Then he comes back up behind
us after the other group has passed.
Mariano, our arriero, arrives just then with the other mules and he get s the
errant mule turned around. I follow the mule train and keep up with them, leaving
a space to let the dust settle after they pass. As I come over the last hill,
the Japanese (who left in the afternoon a half an hour before us) wave to me
from the campsite several hundred meters ahead. I get to the upper campsite in
only 45 minutes. After dropping my gear, I head back to a stream and waterfall
and take a quick refreshing bath.
That evening, we hear lots and lots of thunder, get an inspiring light
show, and get rained on for an hour or so while we are eating and then again
later when we go to bed. Time is spent putting up tarps over our eating areas,
and then later shoring up the tents, which have been put up in a hurry and some
of which are leaking.
The last day we are up at 4, and things happen very fast. I remember
arriving at the top of the valley with Kirk, and then I wait for 2 hours for
the rest of the crew to arrive. Theweather is warm but not like yesterday. It
is a windy spot, and I watch pretty much everyone arrive and continue on. Our
group finishes the hike by 11:30 or so, back in Cachora, stopping only to wonder
at a new born colt that appears to be in trouble and whose owner does not want
to talk about it.
We are back on the other side of the valley. There are three snow-capped
peaks in the distance. On the ridge (not in shadow) directly below the one on
the right is Choquequirao. (You can see it if you zoom in on that area.)
After lunch, our group and Kirk, and a couple of others got in a van for
the 3 hour drive back to Cusco. The driver appears to be practicing for a
Formula One race, as he is going full out on the switchbacks, crossing the
median line in some pretty iffy places. I had not had to use motion sickness
pills in a long time but I was sitting right at the back and I knew I was soon
going to have another look at my lunch. There was a pill in my pack which was
at my feet: I was sure because it had
fallen out of the pack earlier in the day and Alix had given it back to me. My
only question is whether having to look down and concentrate is going to cause
me to vomit or whether I could manage it. I decide to try, am successful, and
within minutes of taking the pill, I feel normal again, although the pill has
had no effect on the driver. Shortly thereafter, he has to swerve out of the
way of a car coming off a one-lane bridge that we are about to enter. Manu,
sitting right behind him, shouts: Señor, no quiero morir hoy! (I do not want to
die today). The driver does not say anything but his driving becomes almost
reasonable, and we can all relax. Merci, Manu!
Manu and Anne-Lise are dropped off part way where they can pick up a
ride to Aguas Calientes, we say our goodbyes, and then to Alix and Nigel in
Cusco. I still can not believe that they accomplished what they did. The
English of course are known for being stubborn! I had told Kirk about the
hostal I was staying in and he decides to come with me and get a room there
too. Only thing is, the sisters, Raquel and MaryLou, are nowhere about. While
waiting, between Kirk and I, we check with all of the neighbours and other neighbouring
hostals. No luck finding anything out or getting alternate accomodations.
MaryLou shows up 45 minutes later and we get our rooms, showers, and a change. What a great trip!
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