Machu Picchu!

Early mornings come fast. We had eaten and were out the door by 5:20. Hilariously, we hopped on a bus then literally crossed the street and switched busses; it beats me why we couldn’t just walk there.

The trek to Machu Picchu is a long one. The second bus took us through a bunch of little towns on winding roads, swerving and honking at every car, dog, person, tree, etc., that stood in his way. Being the bus, he had the right of way because he was the largest; at least that is how it works in Peru. I almost got sick. I was sleeping for most of it (the honking kept jolting me awake), but I would wake up sick to my stomach and hope that I wouldn’t have to up chuck. I hadn’t completely ruled out that something I ate yesterday might have been making me sick, which worried me more than just a one-time, motion sickness deal. After a couple more naps on the condensation-soaked window, my stomach had found its strength.

Erin and I were train buddies.

The bus took us to the train station. The train was way more fancy than I had anticipated. We were sitting together, around tables with seats facing each other. As the ride started, we were given a breakfast snack, a lovely surprise. The train ride was about two hours, winding through the Sacred Valley. Houses lined the trail, both currently occupied and haven’t-been-occupied-for-several-centuries. Our tour guide would point out some ruins and have stories every now and then, but he seemed ornery and was more annoying to listen to than interesting.

The train stopped in a beautiful little town at the base of the mountain where Machu Picchu resides. Stores line the streets selling the same junk that I had just looked through the night before, although not everything was open when we got there. With out much time to peruse, we got on another bus that would finally take us to the wonder of the Incans.

The bus followed a trail of switchbacks, but I did not get sick this time probably because the bus ride was only a half of an hour. At the top, there ia a small receiving community; we passed to the other side and there she waited: historic Machu Picchu.

Before you can get to the city, you have to hike up a short trail. Cliff, who is 67 I think, was powering up the hike like he was our age. At the top, the iconic view of the city greeted us. It really is beautiful. After some long-winded explanations of our options, a group of us b-lined it to the hut to hike Huayna Picchu, the mountain than cascades above the ruins.

The problems are that we were not timely in our arrival, they require tickets to hike it (for which hadn’t been planned for some reason), we are gringos, and they only allow 400 people to hike it per day. We almost got in; they let us through the gate, but made us go back out when they found out how unprepared we were.

We semi-disappointedly toured some of the rest of the city, only after trying a couple of more angles to get through. The coolest part of Machu Picchu is that you are right in it all. There are no ropes. There are no guards. You get to hike to almost every part and see and touch it. We decided to hike to the sun gate, which is the opposite direction of Huayna. We started up the trail when it started raining. Dave said in the four other times he had been here, it hasn’t rained. In fact, it rarely rains at all, so we were lucky enough to catch the day when it rains. We stopped under some branches and talked for a bit, but Natalie and Aniko decided to go all the way. Dave, Cooper, Tyler, Nate, and myself turned around after the rain let up, saw a couple more sights on the way down, then hopped on the bus back down. The girls took Tyler’s backpack, which had his bus ticket in it, so he and Nate waited for the girls to come back down while Dave, Cooper, and I got in line for the bus.

Our final view as we left

The ride down was more scary than the ride up. The bus driver hardly tapped the brake pedal, so our heavy bus was driving down a muddy road lined with slick rocks at crazy speeds with other busses trying to make it up the hill. I though it was fun; the drivers down here must know what they are doing. We made it safely down and found somewhere to have lunch. The restaurant offered us free chips and guacamole and 10% off our bill, so we decided to eat there (not that other places would have offered us the same, they have before). 

All three of us ordered lomo saltado, which is a beef stir fry kind of thing with rice and fries. It is a national meal, so everyone has to try it when they come down. It was delicious, especially coupled with a cold glass of Inka Kola.

We met up with the rest walking through the markets in the village. Nothing they had there was any different then every other market I had been to, so I didn’t purchase anything. The train station was packed full of people headed back to Cuzco or to other places in the Sacred Valley. The trip back was about a half hour longer than the way down because we stopped in the middle of nowhere and had a fashion show. The train stewards showed us their alpaca clothes then came around and asked if we wanted to purchase them. They also had a guy who was dressed in a rainbow suit with a jaguar mask and fake hair dance in the aisles.  Aniko was sitting in the aisle, and when he got in her face, she freaked out. And because she freaked out the first time, he did it over and over. Everybody was laughing except Aniko, who probably would have punched the guy had he got in her face one more time. Finally, she traded seats with somebody and got out of his way.

The train took several hours; then we reboarded a bus to take us to our hotel.  The ride was a half hour longer because we were headed back up hill. I tried to sleep the whole way, but it was on and off. We finally made it back and retired to our rooms, well I did. Everybody else went out for dinner, but I was not hungry, nor did I really want to go out the rest of the night. I stayed in and did some laundry in the sink, which I should have been doing the whole time. Tomorrow, we get to sleep in, which is such a blessed idea.