A Trek to Some Machu-re Pe-ruins

Post 3/3!  Pull up a chair and get comfy — it’s a long one.  We’re actually in Chile now after spending the better part of a month in Bolivia, but here’s the wrap-up on Peru.  I apologize for my tardiness, but I’ve been too busy sightseeing / apartment hunting / having fun to concern myself with blogging. 😛

Last you knew, we had just gotten into Cusco from the desert.  After arriving, we made our way to our hostel, which we had booked online.  Unfortunately, we booked pretty last-minute, so our options were limited.  We ended up going with an unrated hostel on Booking.com — something we never do, for good reason. Here are a few shots of our accommodations.

Our sheets had cigarette burns and other people’s hair, there was graffiti in the closet, and there was one outlet, conveniently place right above the sink.

Not surprisingly, we didn’t spend much time in our room.  Instead, we took to the streets to admire the architecture, handicrafts, and food markets.

It’s like when people shave stuff into their heads. Only this is a mountain.

Our hostel was close to the San Pedro market, which was one of the best markets we’d seen in South America.

Peruvian beanies? Check.

Cheeses… but they only have a few varieties. Basically fresh cheese (queso fresco) and salty fresh cheese.

Bags of coca leaves to gnom on or make tea from.

Fish eggs.

Giant wooden spoons.

Every kind of flower imaginable [from the region of course].

Necklaces, bracelets, keychains, and other handicrafts.

Tons of “exotic” (by North American standards) fruits.

Meats.

Warnings to misbehaving llamas and/or Interbank agents — not really sure.

Berries.

Pig parts.

Colored pencils.

Confetti.

Frogs, skinned or not skinned, your choice.

Spices.

Along the streets indigenous folk sold their produce, goods, and wares.

There are tons of vendors selling hard-boiled quail eggs! Super yummy.

Wheelbarrows are the preferred method of transportation.

We found Peruvian artwork to be sometimes base and vulgar…

…but their llamas always stayed classy.

 We took a free walking tour of the city, which was actually really fun and informative.

Ever-classy llamas with earrings.

A street.  Does anyone read these captions?

A road that apparently leads directly to Machu Picchu… (not sure about this one)

One of Cusco’s main attractions. En serio.

One of the most interesting things we learned on the tour is that Peruvian dogs sleep 22+ hours per day.

As you may recall, we’d been looking to try cuy.  Apparently they are so named because of the sound they make.  “Cuy cuy cuy!”

These guys probably weren’t making “cuy” noises anymore. 😦

Our new friend Karina was also keen on trying some highland guinea pig.  Since we didn’t really want a whole cuy to ourselves, it seemed like the perfect time to go out and try one together.

We ordered cuy al horno, guinea pig baked in traditional Andean fashion.  It was pretty much how you might expect a rodent eating experience to be; the meat was greasy and strong-flavored, the skin was tough and chewy, and the whole while we got to stare at a pair of incisors and little burnt ears.  Turns out guinea pigs are a) really expensive, b) really bony, and c) not really meaty, making for a dish you probably wouldn’t order again.  The stuffed peppers and potatoes that came with it were much more palatable.

Here are some before and after photos of our experience.

Before:

And after:

The next day we were to embark on a five day hike to Machu Picchu via the Salkantay Trail.  We chose the 45-mile Salkantay Trek because the traditional Inca Trail to Machu Picchu required booking dates months in advance — something our day-to-day travelling didn’t allow for.  Additionally, the Salkantay Trail was supposed to have some unparalleled scenery through pastureland, glacial ranges, and rainforest.  Unfortunately, we were right in the middle of rainy season, and everyone we spoke to told us to expect nonstop downpours.  Judging by the rain we had been getting in Cusco, it was going to be a wet hike.

We decided to buy some heavy ponchos (in hindsight an exceptional decision) and went out for some last-minute snack shopping for the days ahead.

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A Trek to Machu Picchu

Slightly-flawed graphic summary of the hike.

DAY 1:

We awoke at 3:30am the first morning to catch a bus to the town of Mollepata, the starting point for the trek.  Unfortunately, all did not start without a hitch; presumably from the food we had the day prior, Kate was sick… really sick.

After her prayers for the bus to get in a minor crash so we could return to Cusco with full refunds went unanswered, we arrived at Mollepata, where we had breakfast and began the day’s eight hours of hiking.

The group, right before we began.

The first day was entirely uphill — not the most fun type of hiking, but the views kept us happy!

Kate started feeling better after lunch.  By this point, we had started making new friends — Peruvian, Brazilian, Swiss, German, Australian, and canine friends 🙂

About six hours into the hike we caught our first glimpse of our accommodations.  You can see the [teeny] blue tarp shelter under which we pitched our tents at the base of the mountain in the photo below.  Hungry and tired with souring weather, we were eager to get to the first camp.

Two hours and some creek crossings later, we made it.  After some snacks, dinner, and hot chocolate, we admired the view and bedded down for the night.

Incan monument at the top of a ridge.

It was cold that night.  Really cold.

DAY 2:

We woke at 5am the next morning to the sound of pouring rain.  Groggy and sore, the camp cook served us coca tea in our tents (“this five-star service, my friend”) as we reluctantly suited up for the nine hours of hiking ahead.  After an excellent breakfast, we picked up our bags, donned our ponchos, and were on our way.

Because this was the rainy season and we were told not to hold our breath for a clear view of Mt. Salkantay, we were excited when the weather cleared.

We stopped for a quick snack…

…but then we saw the fog.  It became a race to the top of the pass before the clouds reached us.

Unfortunately, we didn’t make it.

At this point well over 4000m ASL, it became frigid without the warmth of the sun.

Thankfully, the steep trail took us up and over the clouds, letting us gawk at scenery that pictures just can’t do justice.

The last few hundred meters of vertical was spent navigating some of the most interesting terrain any of us had ever seen.

A few of us were even fortunate enough to see an Andean Condor soaring wild over the cordillera!  (You’ll remember these ugly ducklings from Ecuador.)

When we finally did get to the pass, our view of Salkantay was obstructed by clouds.  It seemed that we weren’t so lucky after all, and that the guides’ predictions were right — even though we were a stone’s throw away from the mountain, we weren’t going to see it.

While we rested, though, the weather improved, and eventually we caught a glimpse of the elusive giant that only a handful of people have ever been able to summit.  (Read more about “Savage Mountain” here.)

After a few photos, it was time to start our descent down the other side of the range to make next camp before dark.

We quickly descended into the next valley, where snow turned into mud then marsh.

No longer above the clouds, we again put on our ponchos to protect ourselves from the driving rains.

As daylight began to fade, we made it to our second campsite.  While we were freezing the night before, this camp was at a much lower elevation, at the beginning of the rain forest.  After eating dinner in shorts and t-shirts, we conversed, relaxed our feet, and turned in early for some much-needed sleep.

DAY 3:

The third day only required five hours of hiking, so we got to sleep in a bit. (By sleep in I mean we didn’t have to wake up while it was still dark outside.)  Much to the relief of our legs, the trail was mostly flat with some shallow downhill sections.

Most of the time we followed the river.

Until we had to cross it.

An entirely not-that-safe river-crossing machine.

Eventually we found ourselves at a pueblo called La Playa.  There, we all loaded into a private bus for a short ride to the small town of Santa Teresa, where we’d be spending our third night.

In the middle of nowhere, Santa Teresa actually had quite a bit to offer.  The first thing we did when we got to camp was drop off our stuff and make our way to the Cocalmayo thermal baths.

Located along the Urubamba River (the “Sacred River”, the one we’d be following all the way to Machu Picchu), the thermal baths were about as nice as could be.  Three pools of different temperatures, showers fed by hot springs, natural rock bottoms… if you had all the money in the world I’m not sure you could construct better ones.*

*My opinion may or may not have been biased by the fact that a warm bath tending to aching muscles after three solid days of hiking felt really, really good.

Photo cred to Tuany Mancini!

After spending a couple hours soaking to the core, we returned to camp refreshed and ready for dinner and a bonfire.  Although there were some language barriers between the native Spanish, English, German, and Portuguese speakers, we were all by this point getting to be friends.  And what do friends do?

Drink together, apparently.

Enabled by the liquor store forty feet away, we drank…

…drank…

…and drank some more.

We danced, sang Spanish songs, and made our best attempts at learning some Portuguese and German.

But as is the case with all good things, the bonfire eventually came to an end.

DAY 4:

The fourth morning was rough.  Not a soul made it to breakfast on time that day.  In retrospect, drinking heavily the night before a full day of physical exertion was probably not the best decision we could have made.

Kate and I had signed up for the optional zip-lining on Day Four, so we were committed to doing that.  As you can see in the photo below, Kate was pumped.

You can really see the excitement in her eyes…

I myself was actually pretty excited/scared.  This was my first zip-lining experience, and although I frankly felt pretty awful, I was looking forward to it.

As they hooked Kate up to the line, my inner engineer went into inspection mode.  “Those anchors look pretty solid…” “How’s the stitching on the harness belay loop?” “I wonder how much cyclic loading those connector bolts have seen…” “Are the trolleys adequately lubricated?” “Is that corrosion I see?!”

Before I knew it I was halfway across a canyon.  With nothing but 200 feet of air between me and the forest floor below, my thoughts evolved from varied to singular: “Holy ****, Holy ****, HOLY ****.”

Three cables and a few kilometers later, it was done.  I made it.

After zip-lining it was back to hiking.  We took a van from the cables to the Central Machupicchu hydroelectric dam.  There, the road ends, and the only way to Aguas Calientes (the closest town to Machu Picchu) is by foot or train.

Bananas!

Kate in her turtle poncho after lunch.

The next three hours was spent walking along the tracks.

Sometimes the weather was good, and sometimes it wasn’t.

Because the railroad ties were not evenly spaced and were anchored in full-fledged stones, walking was more of a chore than you might think.

The bridge literally had holes large enough to fall through. It was so rusted and pitted it’s a wonder it can still support trains.

Although we were usually staring at the tracks, it wasn’t necessarily boring.

Believe it or not you can actually see Machu Picchu in this picture.

In the early evening we arrived at Aguas Calientes.  Built for tourists, the town was the most expensive we had seen in South America.

Our guides took the group out for one last dinner together, advising us not to have too much to drink before the early morning.

Tired and well-sated, we hit the hay early in preparation for the long last day.

DAY 5:

The day we were to finally see Machu Picchu started early for me.  See that tasty-looking trout in the photo above?  Turns out it wasn’t cooked all the way through.  Let’s just say I started the hike that morning thoroughly dehydrated and without a wink of sleep.

We started hiking around 4:30am, trying to get to the top before sunrise.  We could’ve taken a bus from Aguas Calientes, but where was the spirit in that?  We’d already hiked four days to get here; we couldn’t take a shortcut now.  (Okay, I admit, I thought about it after the night I had.)

Waiting for the control point to open.

Supposedly there are 3,000 stairs from the river to Machu Picchu’s entrance;  I was in no mood to count, and Kate stopped caring after the 500th, so who knows.  What I can tell you is that it was cold, wet, and full of biting insects.  I was feeling awful, and thought about giving up and dying right there on the spot.  While everyone else made it to the top in an hour, eager to see one of the Seven Wonders of the World, I arrived half an hour after drenched in sweat, just wanting the day to be over.

Didn’t make it to the top in time for sunrise, but I didn’t really care.

The view walking up the 3,000 +/- ??? stairs.

Thankfully, a quick trip to the bathroom expelling fluid from three orifices simultaneously (I’ll leave it to you to guess which ones) left me feeling much better.

It was finally time to see what we came for.

The ruins did not disappoint.  Here’s a shot of the first view we had of famed Machu Picchu.

We spent the next two hours walking the ruins with our guide, who provided some historical background and interesting tidbits about the site.

A real drinking water fountain.

After our tour, we decided to check out the Inca Bridge.  In order to get there, we had to walk to the top of Machu Picchu and down into the next valley.

No, I’m not getting fat, it’s a poncho in my jacket pocket.  I swear.

Aussie sanga with our friend Jono.

Backside of Machu Picchu with a view of the janky bridge we crossed the day prior.

The view from the top of Machu Picchu was pretty spectacular.

(See that mountain behind the ruins, shrouded in clouds?  That’s Huayna Picchu, prounounced “why-ahna pee-choo”.  I’ll talk about that in a bit.)

After a half-hour or so of hiking, we came across the Inca Bridge.  By no means an easy feat of construction, it wasn’t quite the engineering marvel we had envisioned.

The bridge evoked varied reactions.

If nothing else, the view from the vantage point was nice.

I’ve always wanted to take a “This is my Nature Valley” photo…

Remember Huayna Picchu?  Well, it was time to hike to the top of it.  There is a daily limit of 400 visitors to the mountain — 200 in the morning, and 200 in the afternoon (you have to get passes ahead of time, which we did in Cusco).  There’s a window in which you have to enter and exit, so we hastily made our way back to the ruins to avoid missing out.

Along the way we found two very soft rodents.

Can you find them?

It’s not very clear in the photos, but Huayna Picchu is separated from Machu Picchu by a saddleback ridge.  That means you have to go down in elevation before you start climbing.  I still wasn’t feeling so great, so we took a pretty slow pace up the mountain.

Pulling ourselves up the stupidly-sized stairs.

At points it was ridiculously steep.  If you took a tumble here, you were falling a loooooong way.

It didn’t take long before Jon and I started to complain.  It was hot, the stairs were huge, the mountain was steep and we couldn’t for the life of us figure out why they hadn’t just put a tram in yet.  Kate aptly renamed the mountain “Whiny Picchu”.

Lots of stairs and some tunnels later, we found ourselves at the top with a seriously good view.

“Looking back at it now, it probably wasn’t the best decision to wear a white shirt for five days of hiking.”

There was a sense of accomplishment when you looked down and saw the raging Urubamba River more than a half-kilometer below you, knowing you started on the other side of it that morning.

The weather started to threaten rain, so we headed down.

Stairs or ladder?  You decide.

By this time around 4pm, the park was mostly empty, with hardly a tourist in sight.

Whiny Picchu in the background.

One of the things I marveled at most was how well the rocks fit together.  I can’t even begin to imagine how long it took to meticulously modify and fit each piece together.  But it did pay off; Machu Picchu has endured countless earthquakes, and remains strong as ever.

Temple of the Condor, complete with a reservoir to collect blood from llama sacrifices.

A very large bug. No camera trickery here!

Kate’s favorite part was the abundance of llamas.

We had seen a few fighting and charging one another earlier, so Kate was a bit timid when there was one on the path out of the ruins.

“Touch me again, biped…”

The scenery kinda reminded me of LotR, so I named this guy Leg-o-less.

We said goodbye to Machu Picchu and headed back down the mountain to Aguas Calientes.  Tired and starving, we managed to find a Mexican restaurant where we got alpaca meat burritos!

Because there is a constant flow of tourists through the city, customer service is pretty horrendous.  I guess people will continue to come to see Machu Picchu, so there isn’t the attitude of “hey, write a review or tell your friends about this place!”  Almost every restaurant charges a 10% “service tax” on top of everything, which you might consider as a mandatory tip.  This place tried to tack on a 36% “tax”.  Not 10%, not 15%, not even a ballsy 25%.  36%.  Jon and I were pretty furious, and went to leave TripAdvisor reviews only to see that it was already ranked 45/50 in Restaurants.  If I didn’t have a train to catch, I was going to sit outside their restaurant and tell everyone who went to sit down what thieves they were.  I’m getting angry just writing about this.  Grrrrr…

But a train to catch we did have, so we said our goodbyes to our new friends and caught the PeruRail back to Ollantaytambo, where we caught a bus back to Cusco.

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Back in Cusco

After a morning spent sleeping in, we popped blisters, got massages, and found an Indian food buffet.

I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful all of those things were.

The next day, we slept in again.  Oh now nice it was!  After that, Kate treated me to a Peruvian cooking class, a Christmas present she got me while in Lima.

In addition to quinoa soup and stuffed rocoto peppers, we learned how to make a proper pisco sour and made chocolate-covered indigenous fruits for dessert. 🙂

That night we bid Cusco adieu and took an overnight bus.  We arrived the next morning to [what is often called] the highest navigable lake in the world: none other than Lake Titicaca, whose namesake so many of us found funny for so long.  (Obviously at 23 I’m mature and it’s not funny anymore.)

We were in the town of Puno, known for its proximity to the floating reed islands that the Uros people call home.  We took a boat out to the floating islands, which took about 20 minutes.

Sporting my new Peruvian beanie.

All the while, our guide emphasized that the lake was actually pronounced “Titty…Caca.  No Titicaca.”  This was because Titicaca apparently means “Rock Puma”, so to say “Rockpuma” would be just plain wrong.

See the puma?!  Yea, me neither.

The reed plains were remarkably expansive, providing an effectively limitless resource for the Uros people.

They used the reeds for everything.  Building foundations, houses, boats… they even ate the stuff.

The island chief demonstrating how the artificial islands were made, one cube at a time, just like Minecraft.

Tasted like bland celery.

Swans are also possible with reeds.

Given that this lake is located 3,800m ASL, it gets COLD.  Don’t let the sunshine and blue skies fool you.  We got so cold at one point we had to borrow indigenous garb to stop the shivering.

The algae obviously has no problem with the cold.

Eventually it was time to get back on the road.  Puno apparently isn’t really a good place to stay; you’re much better off on the Bolivian side of the border in Copacabana.  We were taking a hop-on, hop-off bus service from Cusco to La Paz, so we didn’t have to worry about finding another bus on the other side of the crossing — all we had to do was get our stamps.

The road from Puno to Copacabana was a pretty one!

As an American citizen, this proved easier said than done.  Because of reciprocity practices, Bolivia requires Americans to have visas to enter the country.  While Kate worked the system and used her Australian passport to get in headache-free, I had to provide application forms, proof of funds, an itinerary, a copy of my passport, and $55 USD in crisp, new bills (no marks! no tears! no creases!).  Some of the documents required weren’t even listed on the embassy website, so I had to acquire them at a copy shop across the street.  Three lines and the better part of an hour later, I finally got my stamp and visa.  (The immigration official pocketed my change, but I wasn’t about to say anything.)  Walking out of the immigration office victorious, everyone cheered for the lone American and we were on our way.

And with that, our Peruvian travels were over!

I promise it won’t take so long to write the next one.  Expect to see the rest of Lake Titicaca and a little bit of La Paz in the next post!  🙂

Love,
Kate & Jared