Machu Picchu!
This adventure began right on the tail of the last one (Ecuador). After returning to my home in Barranquilla at 1:30 a.m. on April 16th, I headed back to the airport at 9:00 a.m. to fly back over Ecuador to Lima. There, after meeting up with my friend Andrea and her mom, cousin, and aunt, and a brief (3 hour) night in Lima, we made the short flight to Cusco. At about 14,000 feet above sea level, it’s generally recommended to spend two to three days acclimating to the altitude before embarking on the demanding trek to Machu Picchu. Since we only had about 18 hours, we drank our share of coca leaf tea to ward off adverse effects. The following morning “las chicas” (our team of 5 girls) and our guide Felipe set out for our “Inka Jungle Trek.” Day 1 involved driving through a few villages and higher up into the Andes mountains. There, in the blustery cold and rain, we took off on mountain bikes down a curvy highway. As we descended, the weather improved drastically: the rain let up, the sun came out, and the clouds cleared away. After a descent of 50 kilometers, we took another short van ride to the town of Santa Maria. After a dinner of delicious
lomo saltado (sautéed beef strips with rice) we settled into our hostel for the night. On Day 2, we hiked the equivalent of a half marathon. We finished the 10-hour hiking day with tired legs and blistered feet, but the trip was beautiful. Part of it was along a historic Inka trail, which went up and down alongside the Urubamba river. Throughout the course of the day, we saw banana trees, coffee plants, pineapple bushes; we ate bananas picked right off the tree and tasted
cuy (roasted guinea pig). Day 3 involved a great adventure: zip-lining 500 feet above the ground! Securely harnessed in, of course, we stepped off the cliff a total of 6 times, flying over the valley and river at a thrilling 65 (can’t remember if it was miles or kilometers!) per hour. Afterwards, on our way to our lunch spot, we encountered a
derrumbe (landslide) and had to wait about half an hour for a path to be cleared. As we climbed over the rocky makeshift path, it was a good idea to look neither up (crossing our fingers that no more rocks would come tumbling down) nor down (to the steep drop-off immediately to our left). After lunch, our group divided in half (some took the train to Aguas Calientes, the next village, and the rest of us walked). In Aguas Calientes (literally “hot water” where, to our relief, they have hot showers), we made preparations for the following day (bought bus and entrance tickets to Machu Picchu, etc.). At 4 a.m. on Day 4, we waited in line for the bus, since only the first 400 people to enter the Machu Picchu park would be granted a pass to climb Waynapicchu, the highest peak. At 6:15 we arrived at Machu Picchu and succeeded in receiving the pass. At this point, the mountain on which we stood was covered by clouds; we could only see a few yards ahead of us, and the picture-perfect view was completely obscured. Felipe, our guide, gave us an orientation of Machu Picchu—explaining the history, pointing out the important buildings and recounting their purposes. After a challenging hour-long climb, we reached the peak of Waynapicchu. Though the view was still rather cloudy, it was an amazing feeling to be so high, surrounded by stunning mountains. Finally, by about 11 a.m., the clouds cleared, revealing the stunning beauty of Machu Picchu. Pictures may be impressive, but there are really no words or pictures to describe the breathtaking beauty of this site. For as long as I can remember (or at least since I’ve studied Spanish/Latin America), visiting Machu Picchu has been a dream of mine. I’m so thankful to have had the opportunity to see it come true!
(Las Chicas biking down the Andes mountainside)
(Coca leaves--NOT cocaine. Yuck.)
The following day, in Cusco once again, Andrea and I explored the city (“the belly button of the world,” as the Inkas called it). We wandered up and down the streets, where colonial Spanish buildings are added onto Inka stone foundations. Being Good Friday, we encountered a procession taking place in the plaza.
That night, we boarded a bus for Puno, a city in southern Peru that lies on the shores of Lake Titicaca (the highest navigable lake in the world, shared by Peru and Bolivia). Arriving at 4:30 a.m., we crashed at a hostel for a few hours before venturing out into the city. We joined a tour group to visit some pre-Inka ruins called Sillustani, a group of stone burial towers overlooking a beautiful lagoon. The following day, we went down to the dock where we paid for a day tour of Lake Titicaca’s islands. Rather than going through a tour agency, we bought the passage on a local boat. There were a few other gringos on the boat, but most passengers were Quechua-speaking inhabitants of Taquile island, returning home with heavy sacks of food and pockets, skirts, and hats full of coca leaves (they chewed the stuff as if it were candy)! We first stopped to see the Uros islands, which are floating reed islands inhabited by Aymara people. A couple hours later we arrived at Taquile, which is a steep, hilly island with houses and farms scattered across it. At the top of the hill were a plaza and some restaurants (where we were served fresh trout caught right from the lake). It was Easter Sunday, and we arrived in time to see the locals leaving the Catholic chapel, crossing the plaza, and performing a thanksgiving ceremony to Pachamama, or Mother Earth. It was interesting to see the incorporation of indigenous beliefs with the Catholic religion—to the community, participating in both didn’t seem to be a conflict.
(Umayo lagoon from the Sillustani ruins)
(an Aymara woman on the Uros reed island)
(From Taquile Island in Lake Titicaca)
After another night bus ride, a long layover in Lima, and a night in the Bogota airport, I arrived in Barranquilla, rather tired to be starting the work week—but the price was certainly worth it for such an unforgettable adventure!
