Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu: Part 2

Part Two: Machu Picchu

It’s a rite of passage for any traveller to Peru. You must go to Machu Picchu whether you want to or not. The challenge is to do it without getting trampled and then buried under a pile of cameras.

It all starts at Aguas Calientes. 99% of Machu Picchu (the name means "old mountain" in Quechua) pilgrims arrive on the tourist train from Cuzco, the rest walk in (Inca Trail people walk straight into Machu Picchu, everyone else walks through Aguas). Once in Aguas Calientes, the choice is to take the tourist bus up to the gate, or again, hike up. Being pseudo-purists, we figured we should hike up before dawn and therefore realize some sort of advantage over the masses arriving by the bus load. Problema: the first buses in the morning arrive at pretty much exactly the same time the hikers do. So there we were, hot, sweaty, and exhausted after the 300-m climb, in line at the gate with every other showered and fresh-as-a-daisy tourist sporting their finest khaki safari-travelling outfits.

Despite the humanity, once inside, Machu Picchu lives up to the hype. It is a marvel unlike any other. Even the most anti-gong-show person (i.e., me) cannot help but be impressed with an ancient stone city balancing on a sharply defined ridgetop deep in the middle of the most rugged and impressive mountain terrain imaginable.

Unearthed in 1911 by an American explorer named Hiram Bingham, it remained unknown and camouflaged in jungle foliage throughout the entirety of the 500-year Spanish invasion and occupation of South America. In other words, the Spanish never found it. It therefore escaped the default ransacking and pillaging bestowed on other Inca sites. It is this small and somewhat random fact that makes it what it is. It is simply one of the best (if not the best) and most preserved examples of Inca civilization on the planet. Being perched on a high ridge in the insanely mountainous jungles of interior Peru give it the “WOW!! ” factor.

The more you read about it, the more you learn that no one really knows why it was built and what it was used for. The Incas didn’t have a written form of language, and given that the Spanish didn’t know about it, there is no historical documentation of the city. Theories are plentiful, with the leading recent theory appearing to be that the city was a summer palace for one of the Incas (the word Inka is Quechua for “ruler”, meaning that the ruler or emperor of the empire was the “Inca”). Others say that it was probably an important administrative, religious, and political center. Regardless of its purpose or use, no one disputes its significance. It was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983.

One of the most striking features that no one misses, is the intricate stone work. Incas were masters of stone architecture. Stone walls, buildings, and roads were built and fit together without mortar in a way that would be impressive even if done today with modern equipment and power tools. Like the statues of Easter Island, how exactly humans without modern tools and equipment were able to cut and lay individual stones weighing several tons, each fitted precisely to the next so that not even a knife blade can be inserted in between the joints, is unknown. Again theories are plentiful, but no one knows for sure.

Another big feature of Inca architecture is that nothing is random. Everything seems to be aligned with the stars, the heavens, cardinal directions, the winter solstice, the summer solstice, and every other pagan symbol of importance. Around every corner we turned there was a tour-guide explaining in infinite detail to a group of camera-ready tourists how this wall, or this stone, or this corner was somehow aligned with the universe.  They were also big sacrificers, as in human. The stone alters where such events took place, along with other religious ceremonies, are also prominently placed. Apparently a lot of blood was spilled to please the gods back in the day.

After a good look around the place, we took yet another hike up to the top of Cerro Machu Picchu  – a peak overlooking the city and the rest of the world. While we had reservations about the exhausting nature of such an activity (another 600 m climb), it was a fantastic experience. First it is only climbed by a small number of people, since most hikers opt for the opposite peak Huayna Picchu (the iconic peak in the background of every picture you have ever seen of Machu Picchu, including ours). Huayna Picchu however, has also succumbed to the permit system and requires advanced planning and reservations which we didn't have. We therefore opted for the higher and more difficult peak requiring no advanced planning of any kind J

While views along the climb are outrageously stunning and reveal the insanely vertical nature of the terrain (unbelievably rugged), the cooliest thing about the route is that it follows an original Inca road. Cerro Machu Picchu was used by the Inca as a lookout and therefore a permanent and well-built Inca road leads to the summit. It’s obvious to anyone that the Inca were serious about their endeavours and built things to last forever. Provided the Spanish don’t invade again, that trail will be there forever. Very cool.

So back to Aguas by mid-afternoon for a well-deserved cerveza, and of course, more pizza followed by happy-hour drinkie-poos. We said good-bye to the area the next day and opted for the tourist train back to Cuzco (we could have hiked out...but enough is enough). While outrageously expensive (by local standards), the train was exceptionally relaxing and enjoyable. It was fun to be brushing shoulders with the rich tourists for a couple of hours. The route back is through the “Sacred Valley of the Incas”, which made for good perspective and views.
All in all, a highly successful mission. Machu Picchu: done.

So now, back in our Cuzco base, we’re taking a few days to regroup, repack, and contemplate reality. Next mission: cycling up the altiplano to Lake Titicaca and onto Bolivia! But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. More on that soon. Adios.

 

 

 

Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu: Part 1

OK, a lot of ground to cover here. I’m going to split the past week up into two parts: the Salkantay and then Machu Picchu.

Part One: Salkantay Trek

There are no roads to Machu Picchu. That leaves 3 ways to get there (in the remote case you don’t know what Machu Picchu is, perhaps read part two first): (1) take the tourist train, (2) walk the 4-day Inca Trail, or (3) walk in via another trail. We wanted to walk in. The classic “Inca Trail” however, as touched on previously, has evolved into a gringo Mecca that must be booked months/years in advance, and must be done under the auspices of an expensive guiding outfit (i.e., no independent travel). With no reservations or desire for a guided package tour, that left us with option 3: walk in via another trail.

Interestingly, and relatively unknown, is that the classic “Inca Trail” is only one trail that leads to Machu Picchu. Admittedly, it’s probably the most direct and most aesthetic in terms of following a route the Inca used. But, others exist, including a route travelling through the Salkantay Pass southwest of Machu Picchu. The bonus of such “other routes” is that they are unregulated and do not require any permits, reservations, or guiding companies. And so it was, a natural choice for us to do the Salkantay.

Our original plan was to be fully self-sufficient and haul all our camping gear and food for the 5-day hike. But we were presented with an offer we couldn’t refuse. For a reasonable fee, we were offered rustic accommodation and food at each overnight location along the way. All organized by one extended family based out of Mollepata, the start of the route. That meant we could forgo the burden and logistics of carrying camping gear and food for 5 days, and included the added bonus of living and eating with local families. The result was a guesthouse to guesthouse trek very much like trekking in Nepal.

The route started out BIG, as in big mountain scenery. The Andes up close and personal. First night was a place called Soraypampa – pampa  is a Quechua (an indigenous language of the Andes, and was the language of the Incas) word meaning grassy plain. We slept in a “cabin” in the huge meadow (or should I say pampa) at the base of a monstrous 5910-m peak – Nevado Tucarhuay (nevado = snow-capped mountain). Flor, our Peruvian host, kept the tea and crackers flowing, which was good because at 3900 m, it was a chilly star-filled night. Amy slept like a log in the down sleeping bag she brought. I slept like a log underneath 6 or so woollen horse blankets, each weighing more than sack of bricks.

The next day was the crux and the highlight of the route: Salkantay Pass. Topping out at just over 4600 m, we won the weather lottery again, and had spectacular views of the 6264-m Nevado Salkantay. Although, the word “view” doesn’t do justice. The glaciated southwest face of Salkantay towers over you and is in your face all day. It's as if you could stick your tongue out and lick it. Rated as one of the top-25 hikes in the world by National Geographic Adventure magazine, it did not disappoint. We both agreed it was one of the best days of hiking either of us had ever experienced.

From Salkantay Pass it was down down down (and accompanied by 3 puppies that were also enjoying the route with us). Being at a tropical latitude (the equator skims northern Peru), going down means fast and furious changes in vegetation and ecology. Basically going from alpine rock and ice to tropical jungle in a day.  It also means going from down jackets to shorts and tank tops. The next overnight was the funky village of Chuallay, perched on a bench surrounded by the vertical walls of the Andes. Entertained by our hosts’ snotty-nosed toddlers, we enjoyed having a comfy bed and fresh trout for dinner.

The next couple days were an interesting (sometimes more than others) mix of hiking and collectivos (the local public transport system consisting primarily of Toyota Corolla station wagons getting absolutely hammered on roads that can be perfectly described as similar to bad logging roads). Collectivos are an ingenious system whereby the driver simply waits until the vehicle is full, or he figures there are enough passengers to make the trip worthwhile, then fires it up and away you go – usually for next to nothing in terms of fares.  

After a nice hike and descent along the Rio Santa Teresa and followed by a short collectivo ride, we ended up at the town of Santa Teresa, just west of Machu Picchu. The town itself is unremarkable, but is home to what could be the best public hot springs we have ever been to. After a few showerless days, the hot springs were a real treat, if for nothing else than to sooth the dozens of bug bites we had accumulated on our bodies at these jungle elevations.

Continuing the charge, the final approach day started with another short collectivo ride followed by a surprisingly beautiful hike along the train tracks to the town of Aguas Calientes – the final destination and launch pad for a visit to Machu Picchu. Aguas Calientes – population 1000, elevation 2040 m – is a bizarre place sitting at the base of the mountain upon which Machu Picchu is perched. As mentioned, it is only accessible by train, or on foot. It’s only reason for existence is to play host to the zillions of tourists making the pilgrimage to Machu Picchu. The best comparison would be Banff, with a developing-world theme. Pizza and 4-for-1 pisco sours rule the streets.

And so ended our pilgrimage. We had arrived, relatively unscathed, at the launch pad with nothing left to do but eat pizza, enjoy the happy hour deals, and get ready for our 4-am wake-up call to hike up the steps to Machu Picchu.

 

 

 

Cuzco!

Well that was easy. 8 am flight out of Piura, bingo bango, enjoying life in Cuzco by 1 pm. If truth be told, there’s a bit of stress over the logistics of getting all our gear packed up and onto a plane (or even a bus). We’re not set up for bus and/or air travel. Too many individual pieces. And, of course, it’s a huge gamble with the bikes, which were brought to the airport, “as is”, as in no external packaging of any kind (we wouldn’t even know where to start looking for a bike box). It’s always a toss-up what the official airline rules are for bikes, and then even more of a gamble how the person at the check-in counter is going to react. All it would take is the guy to say “must be in a box” and it’s game over. But, the gods were with us, and the guy calmly asked us to bring the bikes through and hand them off to the baggage guys. In a hilarious 3-stooges parody the baggage guys were pretty baffled and had a good ole’ fashioned 3rd-world conference on how best to deal with them, but in the end, they just picked them up and the next time we saw them was on the baggage carousel in Cuzco. All at no extra charge! Air Canada: are you taking notes?

So Cuzco, elevation 3326 m, population 350,000: wow, yet another beautiful colonial city surrounded by the Andes. We weren’t expecting much, and simply looked at Cuzco as our base for planning our trek to Machu Picchu. But upon arrival we were awestruck, again, by the magnificence and grandeur of it all. You simply can’t have enough pictures of churches in this part of the world. Definitely a ground-zero gringolandia with more camera-touting tourists than you can shake a stick at, and complete with Starbucks, McDonalds, and KFC. But somehow they have managed to hold onto the look and feel of the place, and have just enough indigenous women selling goods on the street to keep it real.

Cuzco was the original capital of the Inca empire, which prior to the Spanish invasion in the early 1500s, extended from Ecuador to Chile, making it the biggest empire in the Americas. Cuzco’s fate was however, doomed to the same fate as every other Inca city. The Spanish took it, killed anyone who stood in their way, stole everything of value, tore down what they didn’t want, and rebuilt it in their image. Et voila, another fabulous colonial city built upon Inca ruins. Beautiful, yet sad.

As alluded to, Cuzco is ground zero for tourists interested in Peru and is the main launching pad for organizing a mission to the infamous Machu Picchu. One of the biggest activities here is just chillin’ and waiting out the recommended 3 or 4 days of acclimatizing. At 3300 m, anyone arriving from sea level (i.e., on a plane) needs to give their body time to adjust to the elevation, lest a bout of AMS, aka acute mountain sickness, aka altitude sickness, could ruin the trip, if not their life. As a chronic AMS guy myself with a history of a near-death AMS episode, I’m not taking any chances. It’s actually a great excuse not to do anything physical, and just relax. Amy, on the other hand, appears to be fine with the elevation and is doing her best to walk down every cobbled alleyway in town.

Speaking of altitude, the time-honoured natural remedy for AMS in this part of the world is the consumption of coca tea, which is tea made from the leaves of the coca shrub (or just chewing on the leaves). It’s everywhere, everyone partakes, and there’s a big pile of it at our hostel for anyone to dig into. Funny story. I’m kind of a “when in Rome” guy, so I’m thinking “great, I’ll just drink coca tea all day long”. Interestingly, after some google research, we learn that it’s not really “tea”, as in the innocuous herbal brews we are used to. Coca leaves are in fact the raw ingredient for cocaine. Tea made from the leaves, while generally considered harmless (but illegal in many countries like the U.S. and Canada), contains the coca alkaloid that makes cocaine what it is. The big difference obviously is that the tea contains a relatively milliscule amount. But, it’s not nothing, and the general rule of thumb is to treat coca tea like coffee. i.e., don’t drink 15 cups of it before bed time, which is generally what I was doing. I was wondering why my heart was racing as I crawled into bed and then I stared at the ceiling all night (I thought it was the altitude). So now, in addition to the AMS, I have to wean myself off the coca addiction!  J

Lounging around the hostel for a few days has also allowed us to catch up on a few housekeeping items like dealing with two flats and a broken spoke. That Patagonia windbreaker that got shredded on my wipeout back in Ecuador has been at the bottom of my pannier waiting for just the right little old lady with a sewing machine to appear. Yesterday, for the outrageous price of $2, I had the jacket stitched back together and Amy couldn’t even tell where the fix was. Nice.

Amy’s favourite pro about hostels is the use of a kitchen so we can make our own food. Well, OK, so Amy can make our food (I’m the sous-chef and bow to her gastronomic skills). Last night we managed to gather up Amy’s favourite ingredients (basil, garlic, onions, tomatoes) and made a delicious blue-cheese pasta. Along with a not-too-bad 5-dollar bottle of Peruvian malbec (Peru makes wine...who would have thunk), it was fantastico. Although a wonderful dinner overlooking the Plaza de Armas the night before was pretty stellar, and prompted Amy to declare that Cuzco is her favourite city so far.

OK, so what’s next? As mentioned, this has been our launch pad for our mission to Machu Picchu. Our plan at this point is to do the Salkantay Trek – a 5-day unguided mountain trek to Machu Picchu. The classic multi-day approach, aka “The Inca Trail”, has morphed into a gringo gong show requiring permits, guiding companies, and reservations at least 4 months in advance (which we don’t have obviously). The Salkantay Trek, on the other hand, gets you to Machu Picchu and has no permit/guiding/reservation requirements. Way more our style. So that’s the plan. We leave tomorrow. Look for the trip report in about a week from now. Chao.

 

 

Piura

It’s always fascinating to be in the middle of nowhere and make it all work in places off the gringo highway. Yesterday we rolled into Piura, northern Peru’s hub city. The five days of riding to get here gave us a good taste of what riding through the desert to Lima and beyond (2000+ kms) would be like. It actually appears to get much more desolate and remote as the road goes south. So ya, five days is good J

The riding is actually quite good. The dry desert air is fresh, the pavement is good, visibility is unlimited, and the temps are quite reasonable at mid to high 20’s. With a nice breeze blowing it can be downright pleasant. The biggest challenge is the mental fatigue of slogging along a seemingly endless road, with little to nothing breaking it up. With virtually no towns or other human activity along the way, rest stops become random spots on the side of the highway where Amy finds a nice rock to sit on. Remembering to carry enough water (and Oreo cookies!) becomes a life-threatening consideration. With no stops of interest on the horizon, the whole thing just takes on too much of an eco-challenge theme, and not enough of a fun travelling theme.

Peru so far has been great though. It’s fascinating to experience the incremental changes that come from riding a bike another 50 or 100 kms down the road each day. Coming from Columbia, Ecuador appeared a little bit rougher and a little bit more run-down. Coming from Ecuador, Peru seems a little bit rougher and a little bit more run-down. Basically there’s less pavement (i.e., more dirt), more disintegrating buildings (that bombed-out building look), and the vehicles have taken on a more smash-up derby look. Interestingly, for some reason there are a lot of old-school volkswagon bugs around. ??

Peru definitely has better food. The best so far. Coming from Ecuador, the land of plain white rice, it has been a gastronomical fiesta for us. Yesterday, coming into town hot and hungry, we were blown out of our seats by our plates of arroz con pollo (rice with chicken). We were of course thinking we were in for the usual survivalist pile of white rice and hunk of chicken. But no! What met our table was a delicious plate of mixed curry rice with roasted chicken and a side of papas a la huancaina (potatoes with a creamy cheese and egg yolk sauce). We couldn’t believe how tasty, and unexpected, it was. It made our day. It’s amazing how important the little things are. Although as any traveller knows, food is no small thing!

So Piura. Actually a very nice city from what we can tell. With the usual picturesque and serene el centro square (Plaza de Armas here in Peru), and a scattering of colonial buildings mixed with shops and cafes, it has a fairly modern feel to it. And, we saw our first signs of Christmas with the downtown dressed up in Feliz Navidad (Merry Christmas) decorations. A bit weird since Christmas is the furthest thing from our minds as we eat ice cream and look for shade.

Our mission for today is to ready ourselves for air travel. We fly to Cuzco tomorrow.  Readying ourselves means converting 11 pieces of cycle touring luggage into 2 checked bags and 2 carry-ons (not to mention the bikes). Not an easy feat. But we have a system involving taping panniers together that should work. We hope. If all goes according to plan, we should be in Cuzco tomorrow afternoon. More on that soon. Hasta luego.