Peru Travel Teachings No. 3: Como llegar a Machu Picchu por la ruta mas barato

15 12 2009
Machu Picchu, Machu Picchu travel, Peru travel

Machu Picchu, the classic view

Machu Picchu; a splendid sight nestled in a lush section of the Peruvian Andes, one of many examples of the ingenuity of Inca architecture and how it blends spectacularly with the surrounding environment.

This particular example of Inca Architecture is considered by many to be the best way to examine the remarkable history of pre-Colombian civilisation in South America. The Inca empire first emerged around 150 years before the arrival of Europeans in the Americas, the last of a long line of pre-Colombian civilisations that had developed in Peru for 5,000 years.

Machu Picchu, Machu Picchu travel, Inca architecture

Many sections of the ruins reflect the surrounding mountains; they are almost always dotted with several people.

Machu Picchu now receives as many as 2,500 visitors a day, showing how immensely popular the site has become, and reflecting its dominance – at least in terms of tourism – over any other pre-Colombian ruin in Peru and the Americas (perhaps only rivaled by Maya ruins in the Yucatan). The massive profitability of such a site has indeed been recognised; travel to Machu Picchu is controlled and regulated by ensuring that it remains difficult to reach, and thus ensuring that travellers have little option but to pay a premium price to get there.

As a result, the only ways of currently getting to the ruins are: by walking the world famous Inca Trail; by means of a train journey from Cusco or the Sacred Valley to the small town of Aguas Calientes (situated in the valley beneath the ruins and built almost exclusively for this purpose); or by walking on one of the alternative trails that have been opened in recent years, namely Lares and Salkantay.

Unfortunately for skint backpackers, even the most economic of these routes is expensive; the train from Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley can cost between $60 and $500 return, while the train from Cusco can be even more than that. The Inca Trail costs a minimum of $400 for those who organise to go with guides from Cuzco, while the alternative trails can also reach into hundreds of dollars per person.

Luckily for those who cant fork out even $60 (that buys alot of beer in Peru), there is another way to get to the foot of Machu Picchu: it is possible to walk along the train track from the Hydro Electric Power Plant on the other side of the valley from Aguas Calientes. The aptly named hidroeléctrica de Machu Picchu can be reached from a small town called Santa Teresa, which is on the opposite side of Machu Picchu from Aguas Calientes (see link to map below). The walk from the power plant takes about 2 to 3 hours, plus another 1 and a half hours to climb the steep hill to Machu Picchu.

In August, we went to Machu Picchu by this option following a 2 day jungle boat adventure near Quillabamba. This beautifully situated jungle town is relatively nearby to Santa Teresa, and it meant we didn’t have to travel all the way back to the Sacred Valley just to return again by train. And we were pleased to find it was relatively straightforward to walk, despite this not being the preferred route of the vast majority of those who travel to Machu Picchu, and even less popular amongst those who want to profit from them. Walking along the rails can be a bit hard on the feet without proper boots, and there is a precarious bridge to cross, but it is a nice walk and you can even see the ruins up above on the ridge.

Machu Picchu, Machu Picchu travel, Peru travel guide

My second time at Machu Picchu, looking thrilled

Below is a step by step guide to avoid letting your hard earned cash end up in the hands of those entities who currently have a monopoly over the train routes to Machu Picchu, along with several 5 star hotels in Cusco and Lima, and one right next to the ruins themselves.

How to get to Machu Picchu from Cusco via Santa Teresa

1. Go to Cusco and find your way to the “Terminal de carro a Quillabamba” – or the bus terminal for Quillabamba – this is easiest by taxi (3 soles minimum)

2. Take a bus to Santa María, which is on the road between Cusco and Quillabamba, about 4 hours from Cusco. This is a spectacular journey, through Ollantaytambo and then climing past the Nevado Veronica in the Cordilleras Urubamba, all in comfortable transport. Note that this road can sometimes be troublesome during rainy season (15 soles)

3. Take a combi (mini-bus) from Santa María to Santa Teresa, another breathtaking journey (6 soles min.)

4. Stay overnight in Santa Teresa, a pleasant town with some nice restaurants (hostal 10 soles min.)

Santa Teresa, Machu Picchu travel, Peru travel

The amazing journey from Santa María to Santa Teresa

 

5a. Choose this option to arrive at Machu Picchu at around 10am

i. Get up early (6am) and take a combi to the nearby hydro electric plant (3 soles)

ii. Walk from the Hydro Electric Plant, along the train track, to the entrance at the foot of Machu Picchu

iii. Climb to Machu Picchu to arrive for around 10am.

5b. Choose this option to arrive at Machu Picchu at around 5.30am (for those who want to arrive early and climb Huanya Picchu (the mountain in the background)).

i. Spend the morning in Santa Teresa (there are delightful volcanic hot springs)

ii. Take a combi to the Hydro Electric Plant around 3pm (3 soles)

iii. Walk along the train tracks to Aguas Calientes, arrive 5 or 6pm

iv. Stay overnight in Aguas Calientes (20 soles min.)

v. Get up at 4am and climb to Machu Picchu, arrive 5.30am ahead of the first bus load of people.

A few more pointers for those who want to do this:

  • You should buy your entrance ticket to Machu Picchu beforehand ($20 for students, $40 for Adults), this can be done in either Cusco or in Aguas Calientes after you walk there.
  • Aim to walk back to Santa Teresa at about 3 or 4pm, before it gets dark. That should give lots of time to explore the ruins.
  • If you walk form the Hydro Plant and climb to Machu Picchu on the same morning (option 5a.), it can be tiring, and will perhaps leave you quite exhausted for exploring the ruins.
  • Any of the combi rides can be made by Taxi; if you are traveling with a group this can also be an economical option, costing perhaps a few soles extra per person.
  • Believe it or not, a train runs along the train track from the hydro plant as well, but there are only 2 leaving a day; one leaves at 8am in the morning and is reserved for Peruvian nationals only (5 soles), the other leaves about 4 in the afternoon and costs $15 one way, for any nationality. Tickets can be bought from the office in Santa Teresa on the day of travel.
  • I would have drawn a map, but Andean Travel Web have already made a very pretty one. This linked page also has more useful information about travel to Machu Picchu via Santa Teresa, while the rest of the Andean Travel Web site has excellent and comprehensive independent travel tips for across Peru.
  • All this info is current to August 2009
  • Watch out for trains when walking

Thats it, I learned the cheapest way to arrive at Machu Picchu, for about 37 soles from Cusco (13 dollars, or even less, one way including the hostal in Santa Teresa). Stingy bastard huh? Well at least my money is in the hands of local transport companies.

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Peru Travel Teachings No 2: El acceso a Internet es un privilegio

9 11 2009

In Santa Teresa, on an alternative route to Machu Picchu, my friend Mark and I stopped for the night before heading to the famous Inca citadel the next morning. Mark became thoroughly aggravated when we couldn’t access the Internet, despite the fact that there was a Cabina de Internet in the small town.

Well at least “Cabina de Internet” was how this burnt-out room full of PC’s had been advertised. When we finally got to a computer, it was unable to access our Hotmail accounts, let alone any web page at all. The guy in charge of the place was reluctant to give us another computer to try, given that all of his friends were busy trying to play World of Warcraft, Max Payne and other such games on the available machines. (On reflection, we realised that this was probably the reason the connection was so slow.)

As Mark stormed away in a rager, understandably ruffled by the guy’s lack of concern for his communication with home, I realised that I had become accustomed to public internet access here being totally shoddy and unreliable in the current absence of my own annoyance.

Internet connections in this part of South America are, for the most part, sporadic. The vast majority of people in Bolivia and Peru can get access through one of the many Cabinas de Internet; which usually come in the form of street-side stores that are full of PCs with a connection. For Cabinas de Internet per capita, Peru is one of the leading countries in the world.

Like the one in Santa Teresa, the connections can be woeful. During travel in Peru in Bolivia and living in Lima, I have uniformly had trouble accessing the internet through cabinas, with regular problems such as a painfully slow connection, websites and programs not working, and even power cuts taking their toll on some occasions.

I have learned that it is probably best not to expect too much when visiting a cabina; this way, when the internet does work, I take my internet time much less for granted, and realise just what a privilege this actually is. And apart from anything else the cost of using the internet is minimal when compared to expensive public access in the UK; perhaps not so minimal for those who need every last céntimo just to eat.

In the case of private connections, I’ve just been disconnected from the Internet since Sunday morning, essentially because the friend’s connection I had planned to use to write this blog was rigged off of another line. For people who can’t afford the high costs of the service providers, riggings are the most convenient form of home Internet access. I am currently sipping on an espresso to access this privelage.

In Peru, up until recently, private connections had been monopolised by company Teléfonica. This monopoly was handed on a plate by now incarcerated ex-president Fujimori to a Spanish company Teléfonica.  During his burst of privatisation in the early 90’s, his government sold off what was previously a nationally owned enterprise, through ENTEL Peru and Compañía Nacional de Teléfonos, for around two hundred million dollars. This was despite Fujimori stating in his campaign that he would do no such thing.

Teléfonica’s dominance has remained strong and has continued into the Internet age; it is rare to find a connection not provided by the company. This means they can keep the price of private connections high, and that cabinas remain by far the most affordable form of Internet use.

Even in some cases when people seek a legal Internet connection from Teléfonica, their service can be very inefficient. It took 18 months for them to respond to the friend whose connection I was using, never visiting said person’s home to install the line even after repeated phone calls. And in the end, it was actually a Teléfonica employee to whom they turned to rig the line, paying a one-off sum for unlimited internet access.

The competition is starting to get its act together, thankfully, as Teléfonica’s contract with the government has run out; maybe this will spur them to providing a better service.

Luckily for me, my work has provided me with an internet connection the entire time; quite simply, they have the plata to do so. Not wanting to spend the entire day on the computer, though (a previous concern of mine), I’ve never bothered with a private Internet connection, partly tempered by the fact that my humble Laptop has all but died.

Through my experience outside of the workplace I have learned that Internet access is absolutely a privilege. Of course, it should be a right; hopefully it wont hinder future blog posting….





Peru Travel Teachings No 1: Español

7 11 2009

After 16 months of sweat and hard graft, yesterday was my last day at work, prompting a partially obligatory leaving party, in which there was ample supply of Pisco, a popular Peruvian grape brandy best enjoyed with ginger ale, granadine, lime and ice, or in the renowned Pisco Sour cocktail, which is Pisco blended with ice, lime, syrup and topped with cinnamon. Quite delicious, and the pride of Peruvians, who have actually outlawed any other drink by the name of Pisco to enter the country in an attempt to stop the Chilean version creeping north, an ongoing and bitter dispute between the pair of old rivals: no sh*t.

I’m digressing. During the despidida (farewell party), I became aware just how far my Spanish has come in my time here, when I was asked to make an impromtu speech by heckling work companions, mostly Spanish speakers. I managed to thank everyone for the oppertunity, for how great they’d all been to me, talked about how much i’d learned and how much I had enjoyed my time in Peru, and i think everyone understood. Not bad for a gringo.

My Spanish now is probably about a hundred times better than the non-existent version I spoke when I first got here, but i would need to be a thousand times better to call myself fluent. It is a massive language, and words regularly pop up that I have never needed to use before, while the conjugation of more complex grammar is still very difficult.

Immersion definitely helps; it was certainly much easier to learn when i was living in a house full of Spanish speakers, and had no choice but to pick up words to communicate, while learning became a bit more difficult when I moved into a house of Australians.  And having a Peruvian girlfriend in the meantime has definitely helped me to keep the Spanish up, although her English is so good that Spanish sometimes needs to be sidelined.

There was a brief period when I was doing internal communication for my company, which needed to be in both English and Spanish, and so this helped me to pick up some written grammar.  The same position required me to correspond with job applicants who, can you believe, hadnt even bothered to learn English? And I even gave the odd job interview in Spanish, though my role was usually reduced to asking the applicant what sports they practiced.

Now i have the confidence to hold my own in a conversation, book a bus ticket and even order a pizza, but i still have problems with my accent and listening, because people speak very quickly and use alot of slang words. But then I had that problem in Aberdeen sometimes, too.

To master a language is a gradual process, built upon over several years. I have probably been too impatient at times when I havent understood something, and have learned that even in my lifetime I will perhaps never be perfect at Spanish, presuming of course that perfection is possible in any language. And I have to bear in mind i didnt even take a class.

So: immersion + girlfriend + work responsibilities + daily use in practice = I have become proficient in Spanish (at least thats what the CV says).

A FEW SITES THAT HAVE HELPED ME ALONG THE WAY

http://www.spaleon.com/index.php

http://dictionary.reverso.net/spanish-english/





Ok, this took me a while to get round to writing, what can I say, I work all day and I don’t want to spend my evenings and weekends staring at computer screens. Nevertheless…

18 09 2008

“World renowned for breathtaking architecture and scenery, Machu Picchu is a must see for any visitor to Peru. Found by Europeans almost 400 years after the fall of the Incas, its seclusion and serenity are both humbling and thought provoking. Every corner of these beautiful ruins is filled with intrigue and intelligence, and it fits in perfectly with the mist of the towering green peaks that surround…”

I wrote these words weeks before I’d seen Machu Picchu. As a web content developer for a travel agency in Peru, I am being given money to write itineraries that sell travel packages, and the vast majority of these itineraries include the Inca Citadel. It is by far the most visited tourist spot in the country – if not the continent – and it is the selling point for almost every person who books a holiday to Peru – if not the continent.

So, being a visitor here and everything, I was itching to see whether I agreed with myself or not. Moreover, my friend Ed was soon to leave the country, so together we thought we should maybe check it out. I soon talked with my boss to ensure that it was ok to take a couple of days off work for the venture. He agreed that Cusco and MP (working itinerary abbreviation) might be a good place for someone who was doing an internship based in Peruvian tourism to visit. Cue two weeks of anxious waiting, daydreaming, attempted planning, trawling travel websites and learning the Spanish for “I’m going to Cusco, I can’t f**king wait”.

Cusco

Cusco

We finally blasted through the Lima haze early in the morning on the 21st August 2008 (yes it takes me that long to write a blog).

Andean peaks soon became close enough to touch. Poking from the clouds like icebergs, stretching northwards as far as I could see, iced with snow yet dark with mystery. I looked down at the ground below: apart from the odd winding road and village hugging the mountainside, the remote wilderness of Peru’s hinterlands became apparent.

For snacks, LAN Peru served cake, bad coffee and a little chocolate …

Nestled high in this vast mountain range – the worlds longest – is the city of Cusco. It was founded hundreds of years ago by the Inca’s as the capital of their far-reaching Andean empire. Although elements of this culture still remain, its character has since been shaped by the events of the Spanish conquest and its subsequent existence as an economically sidelined colonial town. Ironically, in recent years, the surge in the tourist industry surrounding Machu Picchu has caused Cusco to resurface as Peru’s second most important economic centre next to Lima.

Our plane had to lose very little altitude to land: the city stands at an astonishing 10,800 feet. It swept around the edge of the hills to find a favourable approach, and descended into the bowl shaped valley onto a runway directly in the middle of the city.

Within seconds of landing Simon starts taking pictures

Within seconds of landing Simon starts taking pictures

From the moment we stepped into the airport, the tourist heart of the city became noticeable. The small airport was crammed with tour agencies offering either hotels or trips to Machu Picchu. We promptly avoided this melee, and walked far away from the airport to find a taxi that wasn’t going to charge us a gringo tax. A quick spot of bartering soon found us heading to the Plaza de Armas, the city’s Main Square.

A Cathedral on the Plaza de Armas that the Spanish built

Fresh air and sunshine – two things of which Lima has deprived me – were abundant in Cusco. This made me very happy. I felt had finally got to see what I had come to Peru for. Cusco has the feel of a Mediterranean town with terracotta rooftops and winding alleyways; trendy cafés and beautiful restaurants. There is a certain amount of peacefulness that it captures but this is offset by an almost haunting rememberence of its brutal history.

View from hostel

View from hostel

Spanish cathedral built on Inca walls

Spanish cathedral built on Inca walls

Gringos

Gringos

We spent our first day ambling around the city, visiting a few cafés and museums and admiring both the Spanish and Inca architecture. Of utmost priority were organising tickets Machu Picchu, not as easy a task as it may seem. Travel to Machu Picchu is difficult, and not always available in the high season. Moreover it is expensive. The train track is monopolised by a single operator – the aptly named ‘PeruRail’. We had to visit the train station in person, avoiding all of the people trying to give us deals. Eventually, we managed to arrange return tickets from a town called Ollantaytambo which sits half way between Cusco and Machu Picchu. We would have to make our way there on our own, and we were pleased to be going off the beaten tourist trail to do so.

It is fair to say that both of us were quite overwhelmed by the altitude difference, and our ambitious trekking throughout the city made us tired very quickly. My bones and muscles ached and my head, though not particularly sore, felt like it could explode with the pressure at any given moment. But adrenaline kept us going, along with the odd delicious coffee and a spot of Coca tea. The latter beverage is made from the same plant as a certain white powdered narcotic of which consumption would probably land me in a Peruvian jail – not, I might add, on my to do list.

***

After a literally sleepless night – caused in part by altitude, another part by our choice of noisy backpacker hostel, and a final part by tequila – we spent the morning exploring more of Cusco’s offerings. Sacsayhuaman – or ‘sexy woman’ as it is more affectionately known, although as a historian of the Inca empire I should point out that this is somewhat disrespectful to its graceful Quechan etymological roots – is a fortress outside of Cusco. Its gigantic blocks, slotted masterfully together, stand imperiously and impressively over the city. They are arranged in a zig-zag shape to represent the teeth of a puma, Cusco, naturally, being that very puma.

"Sexy Woman"

Nearby, we caught a glimpse of the routine ‘cristo la redentor’ statue (you might have heard of him, he’s quite well known) which was erected at a higher spot than Sacsayhuaman. This was a symbol to remind people of HIS superiority over anything the Incas ever did, and thus the Spanish superiority over indigenous peoples. Swords and disease certainly helped to prove this theory correct.

Man stands in Cusco with arms held out

Man stands in Cusco with arms held out

An afternoon in the chic and arty San Blas district was followed by our departure from Cusco by bus. Our journey to the fabled Machu Picchu had begun … ahem, it’s real, sorry.

Our bus travelled over a high plateau as we approached the Sacred Valley. The scenery was spectacular. I gazed out at the sun setting over the ubiquitous Andes; into the sleepy villages constructed from burning red mud; at the yellow maize swaying in the wind; at the Inca terracing that still runs along the contours of hills. Away from Cusco poverty became much more apparent. Many buildings lay in a state of dilapidation and villages seemed ghostly and empty. Some of the roads too were in a poor condition of which I shall not describe so that my mother does not fear for my safety.

View from bus window

We eventually winded down the side of the Sacred valley into a town called Urubamba, where we planned to catch a ‘combi’ for the next part of our journey up the valley to Ollantaytambo.

This stretch was far from comfortable. As I explained in my first post, combis are not built for tall people, and I was consequently crammed in the back of a sardine tin packed with Quechan speaking Andeans. They seemed less than impressed with my botched attempt at ‘Castillano Espanol’ and the conversation that had sprung from the novelty of the length of my legs soon became non-existent. My legs themselves almost followed the same path after half an hour of being jammed against the back of a chair. The view I’m sure remained beautiful though with my head buried in the ceiling I simply could not appreciate it.

In Ollantaytambo things took a familiar turn back to the touristy. My legs sprang out onto a plaza with overpriced restaurants that were not of particularly good quality. We headed down to the train station, decked with vendors of all sorts of generic Andean goods sweets and soft drinks.

None of the tourism in the world could have prepared us for Aguas Calientes. This town exists for the sole purpose of providing people with a place to sleep before they hit MP in the morning. This breeds the least authentic and most commercial tat that you could ever imagine.

Within moments of stepping off of the train our fears of not being able to find a hostal were quickly destroyed: “Hostal!”; “Hostal senor.”; “Quiere una hotel esta noche?”; “Senor, you need a room, yes?”; “Senor why don’t you stay in my hostal?”; “por favor” “solo treinte soles senor”; “My hotel have private bathroom, hot water… te gustes?”; “Tengo bueno hospedaje para usted ahora…”

The sound of the rabble died away as we walked with a guy who had had a suitable pitch. Of course by this point, having secured the sale, he became our best friend, and was chattering excitedly about his hostal that had opened just two weeks ago. He was a young guy, and I respected him for trying to make an honest buck, but it seemed so out of place that our conversation, just like this entire town, would not have existed if it were not for tourist money.

That night, for the first time in Peru, we received a charge for tax on the bill at a restaurant. After double checking the menu to see if this had been stated, we queried the waitress. After she reassured us that tax was normal, we reassured her that, in Lima, where we had lived for several weeks, that added taxes were not in fact a normal charge in her country.

“Tip.” she promptly revealed, “It’s a tip!”

“But, [Ed explained in Spanish [at least I think he did…]] surely, that’s our choice to make?”

She looked perplexed so I cut to the chase: “Machu Picchu?”

“Yes. Yes. Machu Picchu. It’s because it’s Machu Picchu.”

“Machu Picchu tax,” I replied. “Claro.”

***

We awoke at half past three the next morning, determined to beat the first buses to the front gate. The walk from Aguas Calientes to MP takes approximately an hour and a half, but comprises a hefty climb through a forested path. Since arriving in Cusco I had managed a paltry four hours of sleep in two nights. This mattered very little and we approached the task ahead with relish.

In pitch darkness we climbed a trail that clings loosely to the road built for buses. We passed a few early punters who shared our bus avoidance ideal but our conversations were minimal and we marched on alone. I was pretty exhausted as we traipsed up the jungle path but adrenaline kept this in check: In a matter of hours we would see Machu Picchu.

So many times I had been told how fantastic this place was. I had read every travel guide for work and a thousand more websites; every description ringing the same message but yet holding its own unique take. The history books I had perused to write for my dissertation reverberated this message. There are Inca ruins across the Andes, from southern Columbia to Northern Chile, but Machu Picchu was the one that every visitor had to see. It was one of the first photographs that captured my imagination and made me want to come to South America.

As sunlight slowly began to creep into the sky, so too did the mist: an unremitting mist that clung to the surrounding jungle. It began to dampen my spirit a little as I had hoped we would see the full glory of the site blazing in the full light of the object worshipped by the Incas. (The sun)

How they had managed it I don’t know, but we arrived at the entrance to find dozens of people ahead of us. I think they might have been Inca trailers. We waited until 6pm for the doors to open, it was imperative for us to make it in first as only a limited amount of people can climb Huanya Picchu – the mountain in the background of the picture every day. So the gates opened and we marched straight through the ruins of Machu Picchu to where the entrance for the mountain trail was. I could not take very much in, partly because of tiredness and partly because of the mist which hung around the ghostly buildings that we could just make out.

After another hour long queue our fatigue was given another test: an hour’s climb up a near vertical path to the top of Huanya Picchu. This mountain towers behind Macchu Picchu and features in many of the most famous pictures of the ruins. It hosts its own set of beautiful ruins perched on the edge of the mountaintop. Although still disheartened by the mist that blocked our view, it swooped around the ruins with an eerie silence that created the most amazing atmosphere. The agricultural terracing was a marvel: made parallel with accurate precision and appearing like large steps down even the steepest of slopes, curving naturally at the edges as though they had simply been sculpted straight from the rock.

Climbing Huana Picchu

Climbing Huanya Picchu

Appreciating Huanya Picchu

Appreciating Huanya Picchu

Huanya Picchu in mist

Huanya Picchu in mist with people

I cant remember if it was because we were pretty tired after so much climbing and very little sleep or whether we were so impressed with the ruins that we decided to stay at the top for a little while. No matter, it turned out to be a good decision. Glancing down the mountain we began to see the mist starting to sweep away at some points. This became stronger and stronger and we could see the Urubamba river deep in the valley below.

Wave after wave of mist began to clear. More and more we could see through, into the surrounding hills caked with forest. Glimpses of the base of the valley which was far below. And then lines and lines of people in multi coloured coats, walking along the walls of Machu Picchu. The hexagonal shape of cleared jungle, marking the boundary of the preserved area of the Inca Citadel, stood out vividly from the landscape. The maze of walls  that were Machu Picchu looked perplexing from so high up. This is truly a genious piece of urban planning.

So it was well worth the climb, and we spent a while gazing from our high perch. After our descent, the rest of the day was spent exploring the intricacies: the temples; the altars; the houses; the storerooms; the sacrifice areas. World renowned for breathtaking architecture and scenery, Machu Picchu is a must see for any visitor to Peru. Found by Europeans almost 400 years after the fall of the Incas, its seclusion and serenity are both humbling and thought provoking. Every corner of these beautiful ruins is filled with intrigue and intelligence, and it does fit in perfectly with the mist of the towering green peaks that surround. What more can I say?

Temple of Three Windows

Temple of Three Windows

Huanya Picchu from below

Huanya Picchu from below

The famous view

The famous view

The famous view

The famous ... haircut

Except for about the people. People, People, People, People. French, German, United States of American, Argentinian. Everywhere. At one stage I could not climb a flight of steps because there was a continuous flow of people coming down it. I wish I had a sol for every Che Guevara T-shirt I saw. But this is all only because it is so beautiful. In conjunction with those bastard tourist agencies who try to make a quick buck by selling it as a one-off package.

Anyway, one new world wonder out of the way, six to go. And many many more Inca and pre-Inca ruins, except quiet, isolated, still covered by foliage, barely touched and not commercial. This makes me happy.

After a day of winding around as much of the ruins we could see, we ran back down the path towards Aguas Calientes in about a third of the time it had taken us to climb that morning. A quick beer at a bar and it was time to head back to Ollantaytambo by train. I had no trouble sleeping that night.

***

The next day we awoke at our idealiclly located hostel in Ollantaytambo. The sun shone through trees into the garden courtyard as the noise of a river trickled in the background. We climbed early to the ruins that looked like they were built like giant lego blocks and towered around the town. It was easy to notice the peace and quiet compared to frantic MP.

Hostal in Ollantaytambo

Hostal in Ollantaytambo

Lego Blocks

Lego Blocks

We spent the day cruising down the Sacred valley in taxis and buses. We made a quick stop at Urabamba where we visited a pottery workshop with excellent modern designs that try to capture all of the pre-Colombian styles in one.

We went onwards down the valley towards Pisac which host a massive market on Sundays. Ed used the opportunity to pick up a few last souvenirs to take back home. The market suffers slightly from displaying the same generic Andean goods that you can find anywhere in the country> one person we met described it like a Scooby-Doo cartoon, going past the same background again and again. But there is enough quantity to find some really good quality goods, which Ed managed to do.

Pisaq

Pisaq market

Unfortunately one day was not enough time to explore the Sacred Valley. There were several other ruins that we did not have time to see. The towns, though still close to MP, had managed to shake off some of the tourist attire and were much more laid back and relaxing to spend time. Luckily for me, I have time to go back, and I certainly intend to do so.

On our last night in Cusco I was given a friendly reminder of life at home. We popped into an Irish bar for a quick pint of good old English (!?) Ale to celebrate the success of our trip – a commodity hard to come by in Lima, especially on tap. Before I knew it we were downing several more at the insistence of a Liverpudlian high school physics teacher. He had just been on a tour of Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands, finishing off with Cusco and Machu Picchu. I can swear at one point in that pub it felt like I was back in Scotland, at a bar with a nice pint of beer: the décor and banter probably helped this to happen. We visited a few more bars and a restaurant, Ed ate alpaca, I ate trucha, we drank more beer. I had a hangover. Brits abroad…

Plus the next morning I had to fly to Lima, acclimatise to low altitude, and go straight back to work. I almost fell asleep at my desk.

So, the question you’ve all been waiting for, what did I learn? Well, to tell you the truth, I have just spent four months harping on about how brilliant the Incas were at everything in my dissertation, so inevitably a lot of this was clarified by seeing mmasterful architecture that had survived five centuries and a European conquest. Sadly, money and tourism has deteriorated the entire region. Machu Picchu, beautiful and intelligent to every end, is a theme park.

Apart from this four day extravaganza life in Peru has remained pretty much the same. Delicious food at every corner, good times with good friends, an expanding vocabulary of Spanish and also beer. I tried fresh mojito which was damned good and also conchas parmesano, which is like the most delicious oysters grilled with, you guessed it, parmesan cheese.

I’m going to Arequipa tonight, which is why I had to finish this post now. Fourteen hours on a bus in Latin America should be fun. Don’t worry about the hijackers mum 😀

Caio