Inca Jungle Trail and Machu Picchu
martes 25 de setiembre – sábado 29 de
setiembre
The next morning, I wait outside my hostal at 5:55. I have not slept a
wink. This seems to be happening to me regularly: lots on my mind at times and
also there is not much of a routine (insomnia seems common among travelers).
While waiting I meet one of the orphans, now grown up who was raised by the
Dutch woman. I get picked up at 6:30. In
the car, there is one other passenger, an American from Arizona in his mid 20s
named Zach. He has given himself a 6 week vacation in South America before
starting grad school; part as a volunteer, the other part just traveling. I ask the driver how many more there are to
pick up. He says none. There will be only the two of us. I was looking forward
to a group but I also see the advantages of such a small group, of which there
are several.
We have signed up for what is known as the ‘Inca Jungle Trail’, one of
the alternate hiking routes to Machu Picchu, other than the traditional high mountain ‘Inca
Trail’. This latter is now so popular that it is limited to 500 people a day.
That is a zoo by anyone’s description and an expensive one at that and I was
not interested. There are a number of other much less congested (and cheaper)
routes. Our route, starts around the same place, a couple hours’ drive from
Cusco, and takes advantage of a high pass along the road: the first day is a
3-4 hour downhill mountain bike along the road and off of it to the town of
Santa Marta. Beyond that are two days of hiking, much of it on an ancient Inca trail (obvious because it is a mountain trail
built up out of rocks in a style unlike anything made recently) to get to the
destination of Aguas Calientes, the town below Machu Picchu (which is Quechua
for Old Mountain). The hike is mostly along the valley walls of the Rio
Urubamba valley (Valle Sagrada) but climbs up very high at places and comes
down again. This is cloud forest, although there are people that live in these
slopes and farm small plots in them, so it is not wilderness, but it is
relatively uninhabited.
We go to the Tour Operator’s house. Lorenzo, a man in his 40s, is there
to greet us. He is obviously proud of his operation. We are led into a long
room with dining tables, all windowed on one side overlooking a wooded area. It
is obvious he has added this on recently and the room is simple but very
welcoming. We are having breakfast here:
a buffet with yogurt, cereal,
milk, juice, good strong coffee, bread, cheese, ham. It is the best breakfast I
have had in a long time.
After breakfast, we meet our guide for the next three and a half days, a
bright, lively, local named Wilian, in his mid ‘20s. When we get to the top of
a mountain pass and start suiting up in protective gear, another group of about 15 arrive. This is one
of the advantages of being two: we are off much faster (about 10:45). Also,
after Wilian sees that we are both competent on bikes, we start to take some
shortcuts across country. This is another advantage of being a small group.
Halfway down, it begins to rain and after that it rains most of the time. At
the next stop we put on rain jackets and keep going. At about 1:45, we arrive
at a pre-arranged restaurant close to town, having gone from freezing cold
weather to hot, humid conditions, from bare rock to banana trees. I am sweating
heavily and we remove all our protective gear as well as hats, rain gear, and
sweaters. We are close to the river and there are a lot of black flies. Zach,
who is wearing shorts, gets bitten quite a bit before he can get some repellent
on. We have a lunch consisting of an excellent soup (most meals seem to start
with soup which is invariably home made and excellent), followed by chicken,
rice and cassava. After, we find our (basic) hostal in Santa Marta. There is
the possibility of a short, white water rafting trip from here on the Rio Urubamba.
Zach goes while I want to get some sleep, which I do. When he gets back, Zach
says that he has really enjoyed the rafting but has legs even more bitten and
his feet are swelling with an allergic reaction.
The next day we get up early, have breakfast at the hostal and are off.
It is sunny again. There are many plants that Wilian knows, having spent a lot
of time with his grandmother in this area. He shows us what he knows which is
fascinating. We also see a various species of termites with trails going up the
trees as well as many ant species. Wilian invites us to taste the termites,
which I do but really they do not have a lot of taste. There are several
species of cicada in the area which are flying around actively and are really
noisy. Wilian also points out the emergence holes where the nymphs have emerged
from the ground to moult to the adults and we see a lot of moulted skins on the
trees. They are surreal insects and as big as a hummingbird. We catch a few and
I argue with Wilian about their gender. Wilian is right though: the bigger ones
are males as evidenced by their singing. I guess they need the extra abdominal
space for a resonance chamber.
Wilian and Zach on ancient rock
steps along the valley wall of the RIo Urubamba
We pass through several homesteads as we follow the mountain trail. In
one, we look at some very simple equipment for cleaning coffee berries. In
another which is set up for tourists hiking through, there are examples of many
different wild and domesticated plants that are used regularly. There is a tiny
kind of very hot pepper with an obscene name (which I forget). There are cacao beans which have been roasted
and we are invited to chew a couple: very tasty although bitter.
We arrive at a very high place along the trail where there is a flat
area off the trail to sit. Wilian pulls out a bag of dried coca leaves and some
ashes of burned coca leaves). He goes over the method of praying with coca
leaves (in threes) held in the hand and then offers us some coca leaves to
chew, and hold in our cheek with a pinch of the ashes (lime the chemical,
baking soda, eggshell ashes all have the same effect) for up to a couple of
hours which I do. After this, both Zach and I separately wander along a side
trail to a lookout point overlooking the rio hundreds of meters below us. It is
an awe-inspiring location. I could sit there for a very long time but we do
have to move on. Over the next couple of hours, I absolutely feel a mild
euphoria and an increased level of energy. If easily available, I would chew
these leaves often. The effect is impressive.
Wilian making offering to Pacha Mama (Spirit of Mother Nature) before we
chew coca leaves
In the afternoon, we stop briefly
at another homestead. We cannot help but note the 25 or so guinea pigs running
loose on the dirt kitchen floor. Apparently this is where rural people keep
their guinea pigs which are primarily
eaten at festivals.This is not the last time I see cuy (the Spanish name)
running loose in a house. Finally we arrive in Santa Teresa at the hot springs
just outside of town. These hot springs are extremely clean, unlike the ones in
Lares. While soaking I chat with people from all over. An Irish couple I talk to
have feet and hands badly swollen from
black fly bites. Everyone I talk to seems to be in a pretty upbeat mood. It has
been a beautiful day for hiking. We walk into the town of Santa Teresa. The
town was formerly sited along the river. About ten or so years ago, after a
very heavy rain, a mudslide wiped out the entire town. The town has been
completely rebuilt on higher and safer ground (a Dutch Christian charity has
helped out with this and their logo is all over the place).
Roasted cacao seeds (also called beans or nibs) which we ate and were very good.
We have an excellent supper in a local restaurant and have a couple of
beers with it. I buy a poncho in an open air market for some extra rain
protection as my rain jacket leaks and the rainy season (in summer) is coming.
There is the possibility of using a series of zip lines (just ‘cause) the next
morning but it will mean taking vans further down the valley and missing a part
of the hike. Zach opts for it and I do not want to miss any of the hike and I
find zip lines gimmicky anyway. There are other tour groups here (about 30 people
in all) and I think only about 5 of us choose to continue the hike and avoid
the Zip.
That evening, I learn about another Andean custom from Wilian, one that
I will see time and again. People will often share a drink (chicha or other alcoholic drink mostly) from the
same glass. Before drinking, they will often pour a bit on the ground to share
with Pacha Mama, Mother Nature or the Spirit of the Land.
In the morning, after breakfast, Wilian and I continue the hike. I meet
up with a British couple who have spent the night with food poisoning. I give
them some of my diarrhea pills and wish them luck. We pass a huge construction
site along the Urubamba for a new water diversion of massive scale for
electricity generation, all being built within mountain tunnels. This is
apparently much bigger than the current
generating station in a neighbouring mountain. The new project is apparently
for selling electricity to Argentina or Chile. So much for this being a Sacred
Valley. We eventually arrive at the
beginning of the Machu Picchu protected area which is also the end of the road.
From here there is only access by train or by foot (the latter is our
method). Here we all wait for the others
including Zach who have been zip-lining. While waiting I purchase a huge avocado
and begin to pull it apart with my bare hands as I have no knife with me. It is
very good. I also pull out the sweet bean pods that Wilian and I collected from
a tree (wild) that we passed in the morning. I eat some and pass the rest out
to other hikers. Once the others arrive (by van) we continue on further. The
three of us head down to the river and hike along it and end up collecting a
large number of wild tomatoes growing in the gravel flats. When we get to the
lunch stop, we give the tomatoes to the waiter and they are incorporated into
our lunch. It seems a bit of a waste to me, as they are better eaten raw.
By late afternoon, we pass the gate that is at the bottom of the stairs
that climb to Machu Picchu. Half an hour later we arrive in Aguas Calientes,
after hiking by and 600 m below Machu Picchu. It is a strange town: no vehicles
except buses that go up the mountain road to Machu Picchu. There are train
tracks through the main street of the town. It is clear that it is a tourist
town and that there are a lot of tourists here. There is a festival that
evening but it doesn’t get going til 10 and we will be getting up very
early. After a supper and a walk-about
where we purchase some food for breakfast and lunch, we head to our rooms. Zach
and I are sharing one room and agree too get up at 4 am so that we can hike up
the 600 m of elevation on the stone stairs. Wilian has some things to figure
out and says that he will meet us up top outside the entrance gate around 6 AM.
In the morning in the dark, we leave at 4:30 and are at the gate at the
bottom at 4:55 with 200 other people in the dark. The gate opens at 5:00 and we
head up once through the gate and having shown our entrance tickets. It is like
a race up the stairs which is crazy as I know few people can keep up this pace.
I know that I cannot and will have to slow down soon. I am sucking in air as
fast I can: a sure sign that I am going too fast. Sure enough we soon see lots
of people stopping to catch their breath. I do not need to stop but I tell Zach
that we need to slow down a bit, and do. He apparently could keep up this pace.
There are two dogs that go zipping by us up the stairs. The trail/stairs keep
crossing the mountain road that buses go up to take people up to the site. At
one of the crossings, one of the dogs stops to chase a bus before returning to
the stairs. Later we see the dogs just below the entrance flaked out, dead to
the world.
We arrive at the top about 40th at 5:45, (took us 40 minutes,
guide books say 1 to 1.5 hours so we made good time). However we have to wait
for the gate opening at 6 and for Wilian. By the time we are organized with
some additional people it is closer to 7. I decide to go with a different guide
so that I can practice my Spanish. It is OK, but personally I would get more
out of it by just doing this on my own. There is a lot to see and take in at
the site. We are shown the Temple of the Sun, the Spiritual Temple which has
little alcoves that you can blow into and create some very powerful sounds
from. There is a stone Compass, a Sun Dial, Granaries, and many things I had no
more powers of concentration to witness. The site is powerfully impressive and
is overwhelming. The site was being finished about the time that the Spanish
were on their campaign of conquest (which included raping, killing, pillaging,
and looting). The Incas left the site, covered up the trails in, and so not
only did the Spanish never discover it, but the Incas never used it.
Machu Picchu
('Old mountain' in the Quechua language)
I find that tourists and the habit of snapping photos of themselves with
every icon possible in the background a little annoying as well as quite silly.
Here at Machu Picchu, it reaches its zenith. I am not sure what need it serves,
but it sure gets in the way of experiencing anything, as in a way do tour
guides.
After the tours, Zach and I meet up and hike up the biggest mountain
next to Machu Picchu which is Cerro Machu Picchu, another 800 m up. There are
Inca stairs here too and it takes us an hour to climb up. On the way, I talk to
a number of people who have come here from Lima. It seems it is a Peruvian
custom to have your photo taken with strangers so I agree to have my photo
taken at several spots on the way up with several different people. At the top,
we have lunch and enjoy the view with about 20 other people. Machu Picchu is
way down below us. Another highlight for me is the small lizard Zach spots at
the top and a bigger one we spot on the way down. There are some llamas on the
site to keep the grass under control which we pass on the way up to and down
from the peak . We have both had about
enough. We head for the stairs down. Only 10 or 15 stairs from the top there is
a lady and her little daughter selling cold drinks including bottled water for
5 soles ($1.60). Those few steps above, the same bottled water is going for 20
soles! The next morning, a little dazed from it all, I head back by train to
Ollantaytambo and then bus to Cusco. Zach and Wilian headed back the previous evening.
Machu Picchu
viewed from high up on Cerro Machu Picchu
In Cusco, I change hostals to one Zach had used. It was cheaper and
nicer according to him. It works out, and it is nice. It is a new hostal run by
two sisters, one married and a social worker;
the other not, and is an Anthropology grad student. The student, whose
name is Raquel, is very talkative and interesting and so we talk a lot and she
helps me with my Spanish. I learn a lot
about the area and Peru from her over the time I stay at their place (on and
off). The one thing tricky about this hostal is that to get to it you need to
walk down the Calle Recoleta. This street is very narrow and it has room for a
one person wide sidewalk on one side. It is also very busy because of road work
being done on other nearby streets. It is dangerous to walk on at times.
Crossing paths with someone means that one of you has to step out into the street. There is a laundry on
this street and when it rains, the laundry puts a big piece of sheet steel in
front of their open door to keep water from splashing in the door (they are on
the side with no sidewalk. When a large bus comes down it, being on the
sidewalk is not enough to be safe. You have to watch out for the rear view
mirrors. I call it the
Calle de la Muerte.
Calle Recoleta in Cusco. In the
old city, all the streets are cobbled; most are not this narrow.
That night I meet Monica (the massage therapist and university student)
again and go out for supper with her, and spend some time helping her with her
English. While I am in Cusco, I end up spending a fair bit of time with several
young women who are selling handicrafts. It is a good way to find out more
about their lives, practice my Spanish and help them with their English. In a
tourist town, speaking English is a big advantage.
I have three days to get ready
for another trip, this time to the Amazon for 8 days. An organized tour is the
only way to get into Manu National Park, a very carefully regulated pristine
wilderness area in the Amazon. On these days, I plan my next couple of
excursions, visit the main Mercado (San Pedro), buy some produce and have a
couple of meals there (including Ceviche, a Peruvian specialty which is lightly
pickled fish), go to a weaving demonstration, and to an orientation meeting for
the Amazon trip (why was I the only one there?). I also
visit the Chocolate Museum (which I have already described).
The last two nights I buy vegetables and raw homemade cheese in the
Mercado San Pedro and cook up a cheese vegetable stew at the hostal (where there
is a kitchen available). I buy peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic, carrots,
peas, beans, and several kinds of potatoes. One kind of potato that I buy is
pale with red streaks and very small, yet very good. I later learn that it is a
lisa papa or olluco, and is not even in the deadly nightshade family (potatoes,
tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant). Another kind of papa is white and stored
dried. While I have been assured by several Peruvians that they are good and
that the problem is my cooking, these potatoes are not starchy and taste to me
like yucca (cassava) which is probably the only vegetable I do not like
(although I still eat them). (It is not called yucca for nothing.)
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