No Regrets!

As we got closer to Machu Picchu, the scenery got more and more majestic. I could tell by the cone-shaped, fuzzy green mountains, the orange moss-covered cliffs, and the vines draped over the river from the trees that we were going to see something special.

The train stopped at Aguas Calientes, the small town that pretty much exists only as a base for Machu Picchu day trips. We got our paperwork, finances, and schedule sorted out so that we could maximize our time up at Machu Picchu. On our way out, the receptionist at our hotel said the only four English words I think she knew:

“Yes, tripods are OK.”

The bus up to Machu Picchu went up the mountain through about 47 switchbacks. You get very high very quickly.

Waiting in line, people pushed and cut into an obviously single file line, the same way they’ve been doing when getting off any one of our flights this trip. How is pushing and shoving acceptable in any culture? There are easily more tourists here than anywhere else in Peru.

As I handed over my ticket for entry, the lady says I can’t take in my tripod. More than aggravated. Once inside, I would find people with large backpacks and walking sticks, both of which were explicitly forbidden at Machu Picchu. I even saw a woman with a tripod. Can we have a meeting about this?

Machu Picchu truly is pretty amazing. It’s actually one of those places that looks exactly the way you see it in photos. There is that famous shot from the top with Wayna Picchu (the name of the imposing mountain in the background) and the Machu Picchu ruins sprawled out in front of it. The fast-moving clouds constantly change the mood of the place. The things I didn’t expect were the llamas openly gracing on the terraces, the ferocious, swirling winds throwing dust in my face, and the swarms of midges trying to fly into my eyes, nose, and mouth.

Josh and I, each with our differing aerobic capacities, agreed to walk around on our own. Nice to wander around a place like that. When you start to explore, you begin to see the place in more unusual and interesting ways. Getting that unique perspective is one of the things that makes visiting famous places so interesting.

Machu Picchu is an amazing place today because it’s one of the few places the Spaniards didn’t discover and destroy when they were wiping out the Incas. Unfortunately, tourists HAVE found it and have surely been tearing it up since its discovery in 1911. Guys blow their whistles at you if you climb on the ruins, but that’s not enough. People are walking, touching, bumping, chipping, collecting, picking up rocks to use as a tripod because they weren’t allowed to bring one in… It’s only a matter of time before the place falls apart. I envision a time in the near future where a raised wooden walkway through the ruins is the only way to see Machu Picchu.

Last bus out of Machu Picchu was at 5:30pm, so you can’t really hang out until the sun sets.

Tomorrow, I wake up BEFORE the crack of dawn (again) to climb Wayna Picchu. Machu Picchu is open to everyone, but the hike to Wayna Picchu is only open to a limited number of people each day, so you have to get up early if you want to do it. No regrets, right?

No.

I’ve tried couple of Internet cafes, and I can’t seem to find one that has a connection stable enough for me to upload photos. Which is a shame because I have some good ones.

When I’m able to upload photos again, I’ll add them into my old posts.

Got my wake-up call at 4:45am this morning. Heard it pouring down rain outside. I had read in my travel guide that the rocks on the climb up Wayna Picchu are dangerously slippery when they’re wet, so in my semi-groggy state of mind, I figured that they probably closed it for the day. In that state of half-sleep, I also dreamed that I went to the front desk to ask about it, and they confirmed that it was closed. Fell back asleep.

Woke up again at 6am. Realized that the front desk also told me that they allow tripods in Machu Picchu and that perhaps they really don’t know anything. Also realized that I did not actually go down there and ask them anything. Concludedf that maybe they did NOT close Wayna Picchu down for the day, and that if I missed it, I would really regret not doing it. Threw on some clothes, ran to the bus station, went up to Machu Picchu, ran to the Wayna Picchu checkpoint, waiting in line for 30 minutes, and got one of the last available tickets do the hike. Very relieved.

I had a few hours to kill before my time slot to climb Wayna Picchu, so I took another stroll around Machu Picchu. Thick fog blanketed the ruins, and mist fell from the sky. It’s amazing how mystical the place looked, especially when the fog broke and revealed the ruins underneath. And it’s amazing how different everything was from the day before. A completely different experience. Of course, when it start to rain, the most brightly colored, photograph-destroying panchos go on sale at all the local souvenir shops. They should do photographers a favor and sell only brown and gray ones.

I stopped to eavesdrop on a couple of tour groups. I learned that there are 28 llamas at Machu Picchu, and that they belong to the guys who cut the grass.

While taking some shots, I started chatting with an Australian guy named Greg. He is traveling around the world in eight months and is a photography beginner, so we had lots to talk about. He was only visiting for a few hours and was disappointed with all the fog. I told him to be patient. Just then, the fog lifted and revealed the ruins in all their magnificence. We walked around for a bit more before parting ways so I could do my hike up Wayna Picchu.

It looks imposing in photos, but I think it’s an illusion. Wayna Picchu stands 1181 feet above Machu Picchu. The easy-to-follow trail gets you up there pretty quick, and the rock steps all the way to the top are indeed slippery when wet. With no railings and sheer drops off the side of Wayna Picchu, one slip and you’re dead. I wonder how many people fall off each year.

After about an hour of grueling stair-climbing, I made it to the top. There were a few other people up there, all fighting for a bit of space on angled granite boulders. It was tricky (and scary) finagling myself around them to find my own space to sit and relax. The top of Wayna Picchu has to be one of the best places in the world to catch your breath. The view, with blankets of fog rolling over Machu Picchu below, was incredible.

The hike down was much quicker but jarring on the legs. By the time I got to the bottom, I was completely, absolutely, 100% exhausted. What a finish to this trip!

I met up with Josh, took a few final pictures at Machu Picchu, and then headed to the station to catch the train back to Cusco. Last-minute souvenir shopping went longer than expected, and we almost missed the train.

On the way back, we took the classier “Vistadome” train. With the upgrade, you get larger windows, a fashion show featuring overpriced alpaca shawls and sweaters modeled the train’s attendants, and a guy who looks like a child molester waving his arms around and running up and down the aisles, making scary noises and asking people to rub the floppy alpaca dangling from his waist.

We sat with a very sweet Israeli couple. The husband wore himself out speaking to us in English, but he made a good effort and managed to keep us engaged for the entire four-hour ride. They extended an open invitation for us to stay with them should we ever go to Israel.

After getting back to Cusco, Josh and I ran out to take a few last photos of the main square and then visited Bembo’s, a Peruvian fast food chain advertised as having the best burgers around by Aritza back in Lima. Decent, but we were both a little disappointed. Just don’t think you can find a good burger outside of America.

Tomorrow, we return home. And in the nick of time. Word around here is that a transit strike is starting tomorrow at 7am. No taxis, buses, or trains for who knows how long. Strikes in general suck, but it was nice of them to schedule it. If we can just get to the airport before the strike, we are literally home-free.

Taxi happened to be waiting outside our hostel at 5:30am. No problem.

Zipped off to the airport, where we checked in and were taken to an office behind the ticket counter to open up and unpack our bags. I guess we were picked randomly. Nice to actually see some security for a change.

A “coincidental” weather delay occurred at the same time as the strike was beginning, even though it was barely sprinkling outside. We sat in the Lima airport for a while stressing that we might miss our connections and be stuck for the night in El Salvador, but everything worked out and we are on our way home.

Josh is ready to be home. He’s been antsy for a few days now. And I’m tired, too. It’s been a very full 11 days. I saw a lot of amazing things and got a helluva lot of exercise, the most I’ve had in years. I’m tired, dirty, sunburnt, and covered with midge welts. Maybe feral enough to go to a soccer game at Matute.

Off to board the last flight home…

Been home a few days now, and I feel good. I’ve rested, showered, shaved, and my bug bites are shrinking. I am looking human again. And after climbing mountains in the thin Peruvian air, I feel like I’m ready to run a marathon.

Peru was a great time. Amazing sights, nice people. The pace we kept was exhausting, but we got through it. Careful planning, coordinating, compromising, and a decent amount of serendipity has meant that Josh and I saw and did even more than we had planned, which is exactly how you want to come out of any vacation.

As a travel companion, Josh was pretty flexible, practical, and efficient. The good thing about traveling with a fellow photographer is that there was finally someone to take pictures of me!

I’ve spent the last few days working on pictures, and I’ve gone back and sprinkled a few into my old posts. I have so many more to post. It’s pretty time-consuming, but I’ll get it done.

If everything falls into place, I’ll be doing this again from Thailand in a couple of months…

Thanks for keeping up… No regrets!

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