Monday, October 11
It has been a busy five days. Cusco is a vibrant little city. They have there share of beggars in the tourist area, but mostly they are old women and men. The Peruvians ignore them, so we do also. Before I forget, I want to thank Eileen for the wonderfully-warm scarf. It tucks away easily when not needed, but I have worn it almost every day. Yes, it is chilly here; no, down right cold. And Cathy, I wear your socks to bed most nights and today I wore them with my sandals as my other socks were in the laundry.
At 11,150 feet, Cusco is never really warm. When the sun comes out, it is easy to get burned as you don’t realize its power. I always wear sun block and today I wore a turtle neck, my warm sweater, and my jacket, as well as wool socks, long johns and my light nylon pants. Of course, the scarf finished the outfit. I was cozy.
On Thursday, we had a quiet day and arranged for a trip to the Sacred Valley Friday. We ate in a pizza place. Here they called the kitchen la cuyeria or “the place we cook cuy!“ The guide on our trip said that they love their pets so much that they eat them.
As we walked home from supper, the town was hopping. Peter pointed out that it reminded him of San Cristobel in Chiapas. It really does. About every second block in the center of town has a park and a fountain. Part of the excitement was that tomorrow is a national holiday they informally call Sailor’s Day.
The tiny streets in Cusco are very convoluted. To get the travel agent to book our tour, we spent more than five minutes going back and forth on one-way streets. We were not paying the fair, but the return trip cost 2.50 soles - about a dollar. As it turned out, it was an excellent tour.
The guide was a middle-aged Cuscano whose first language is Quechua. He spoke very good English and Spanish. We stopped at the ruins at Pisac, Urubamba, Ollantaytambo, and Cinero. Because of the travel agent we used, we had the swankiest restaurant in Urubamba for our included lunch. It really was upscale, so I used this for my main meal of the day.
The ruins were each different in there way, but each required lots of climbing. It was an informative and good exercise day. The ancient Peruvians were very smart as they built on the hills and used the fertile valley floor for agriculture. Maybe the Canadians should have thought of this when building, especially in the Fraser Valley.
Of course they had other reasons like; security from their enemies, security in the case of earthquakes (they built right on top and their houses moved with the tremor), and religious as they wanted to be closer to their gods.
The Urubamba River is quite substantial in this area. It snakes for 4700 km. through South American and joins into the Amazon. It is one of the longest rivers in the world. One thing that was pointed out to us was the capes worn by the indigenous women before and in the Spanish depiction of religious women symbolically was representing the shape of the mountains which were considered sacred by the original people. I can see why because they are surrounded by huge, almost vertically-sided mountains.
Saturday, October 9, we were picked-up at 6:30 a.m. for the trip to Agua Calientes/ Machu Picchu. I have my fourth meal of the stuffed potato for breakfast in the train station. Peter picks-up a couple of buns and coffee from the inevitable street vendors outside the station. Although many people appear to have been separated from their families, by the time the train pulls out, we are all organized and sitting together. Our seatmates are a lady from Lima who works (runs?) a travel agency and her 20 something son who is in his last year of law at university. Their English is very good. We get the name of a good cebiche restaurant in Miraflores for when we return to Lima. The boy has never been to Machu Picchu and is taking advantage of the long weekend, and still being a student, to see it. They are heading back to Cusco tonight. We will wander Agua Calientes today, and go up on the bus tomorrow. The train ride is supposed to be spectacular, but we saw most of the area yesterday. One very interesting building technique they used for the train travelling down the valley (which is very narrow and quite steep) is they stop parallel to a lower track, back up on a rail that descends, then go forward on the lower rail. It would be difficult with longer trains, but these excursion trains have only four cars.
At one point we stopped to let off the adventuresome people who were doing the four-day Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. They do see other ruins along the way, they go through spectacular scenery, but they carry nothing but themselves or small day-packs and use walking sticks. As we watched them coming off the trail the next day to a foggy, overcast Machu Picchu, most were not smiling, some had downright “what the hell did I do that for” expressions, and the porters were the only ones carrying anything of substance. We spoke with one guy who is in the British Army and really fit, and he said the second day (the hell day by all accounts) he was simply taking two steps forward and then leaning on his sticks for support while he caught his breath and pushed himself through the next two steps. Thanks Lach for telling us that this would not be a good idea for us.
At the station in Agua Calientes, we saw a girl with a poster from our hostel, but our names were not on the board. Peter asked her if she was from our place, and she nodded at us to wait behind her. After four of five minutes, the others had not arrived, so she strided uphill with us in tow. It was only two to three minutes to the hostel. We had an en suite and a window, our two requirements, and the place was spotless. There was breakfast included beginning at 4:30 a.m. We spent the rest of the day wandering around town and getting our tickets for the bus and the site entry. What we are saving on food, we are spending on tickets as everything has increased in price since we researched them.
We toured the town for a dinner place and found a reasonable place with an adobe oven. I had baked trout, the local specialty, and it was done to perfection. Peter has spaghetti which he said was fine. We got to bed early as we figured tomorrow will be a tiring day.
Sunday, Machu Picchu day! Luckily, Peter awake early as the alarm was set for the p.m. When we struggled downstairs, all the lights were off. It turns out, the girl who is supposed to make breakfast didn’t show up. The main lady quickly made us coffee, freshly-squeezed orange juice, scrambled eggs, and buns she had to go out to get as we ate. We left our backpacks at the hostel, and wandered down to the bus in misty-rain. Not a good omen. The buses leave about every three minutes, so we did not have to wait long. Now, the trip up the fourteen or fifteen switch-backs and curvy single lane road that follows the contours of the mountain is just a little hairy. Ruth would be advised to close her eyes and not even to peak! Of course, you have the option of walking the steps up, but that would probably be a two-hour adventure. I thought of Tig and Pat and wondered if there is a Machu Picchu grind! The line-up to get in was long, but moved quickly. We got our tickets stamped to go up Huayna Picchu, but took a wrong turn and ended up going in the opposite direction up the trail that the hikers use to come into the site. Of course, it didn’t help that you could not see Huayna Picchu because of the low-flying clouds. We walked about twenty minutes or so, and were told by a guide there was a gate about forty minutes to one hour away - all up hill. To heck with that. We made our way back to a sign that pointed to the tour direction and began to explore the site. As we had learned the day before, the cities were always constructed with an agricultural zone, a housing zone, and a religious zone. At Machu Picchu today, they use llamas to cut the grass. They are very efficient grazers. Of course, in the Inca and before time, the terraces were planted with mostly potatoes. They had a way of freezing them so they lasted many (sometimes fifteen) years, and when boiled to eat, it only took three or four minutes to cook them. They had huge storage areas where they kept food for the years when the harvest was bad.
In the residential zone, the residents had a fresh-water system that actually came right into the homes. The water was also stores in reservoirs. Even today, you can see how the channels distributed the water - especially on a rainy day like we had.
The stone work in the religious zone is of a much higher standard than the others. The base stones of the buildings are huge, smoothed, and fit together without any space between. There is an area where there are boulders which were being worked on when the Incas abandoned Machu Picchu. I looked at the total of the city (between three and five thousand people lived here), and it is obvious the place was started before the Incas invaded the area. They were here for less than 100 years. There is no way so much development could have occurred in that length of time. I bought a book today about the history of the ancient kingdoms, so I hope to learn more.
The day itself began foggy, then became sunny enough that I folded up my pants, then became downright ugly. You will have to image Peter and I hunkered-down under an ancient rock in the carving area, each sitting on a small rock, eating lunch. It was raining too hard to ask anyone to take a picture. By the time we made our way to the Huayna Picchu entrance, we decided it would be foolhardy to actually attempt the climb. Sometimes you simply must put common sense before desire.
Yes, you can’t visit Peru without seeing Machu Picchu, but the spiritual side of the place is totally lost in the hoards of people scampering all over the place. It is definitely a cash cow for a country which needs the infusion of money outside of Lima.
The trip down on the bus surpassed the assent. The rain had slickened the road. I took consolation in the fact that busses going over the edge would be bad for publicity and costly to replace.
The train trip back only takes you to Ollantaytambo, so there is a two-hour taxi drive to Cusco. My seat mate said that he had paid for a taxi and if there was room we were welcome to join him. His taxi never showed up, so we shared one back. Two hours in the dark in a nail-biting, pass-anywhere trip. We arrived safely, so I guess I shouldn’t criticize. We fell into bed exhausted and did not set the alarm for this morning.
We got the laundry done and had a lazy day. I am going to miss the warm, snugly bed here at La Rosal. We have thin sheets, then two wool blankets as thick as the best quality Hudson Bays, then a thick, puffy quilt. Once you are within this cocoon, it is heaven. We are up early and off to Puno and the floating island tomorrow.
It has been a busy five days. Cusco is a vibrant little city. They have there share of beggars in the tourist area, but mostly they are old women and men. The Peruvians ignore them, so we do also. Before I forget, I want to thank Eileen for the wonderfully-warm scarf. It tucks away easily when not needed, but I have worn it almost every day. Yes, it is chilly here; no, down right cold. And Cathy, I wear your socks to bed most nights and today I wore them with my sandals as my other socks were in the laundry.
At 11,150 feet, Cusco is never really warm. When the sun comes out, it is easy to get burned as you don’t realize its power. I always wear sun block and today I wore a turtle neck, my warm sweater, and my jacket, as well as wool socks, long johns and my light nylon pants. Of course, the scarf finished the outfit. I was cozy.
On Thursday, we had a quiet day and arranged for a trip to the Sacred Valley Friday. We ate in a pizza place. Here they called the kitchen la cuyeria or “the place we cook cuy!“ The guide on our trip said that they love their pets so much that they eat them.
As we walked home from supper, the town was hopping. Peter pointed out that it reminded him of San Cristobel in Chiapas. It really does. About every second block in the center of town has a park and a fountain. Part of the excitement was that tomorrow is a national holiday they informally call Sailor’s Day.
The tiny streets in Cusco are very convoluted. To get the travel agent to book our tour, we spent more than five minutes going back and forth on one-way streets. We were not paying the fair, but the return trip cost 2.50 soles - about a dollar. As it turned out, it was an excellent tour.
The guide was a middle-aged Cuscano whose first language is Quechua. He spoke very good English and Spanish. We stopped at the ruins at Pisac, Urubamba, Ollantaytambo, and Cinero. Because of the travel agent we used, we had the swankiest restaurant in Urubamba for our included lunch. It really was upscale, so I used this for my main meal of the day.
The ruins were each different in there way, but each required lots of climbing. It was an informative and good exercise day. The ancient Peruvians were very smart as they built on the hills and used the fertile valley floor for agriculture. Maybe the Canadians should have thought of this when building, especially in the Fraser Valley.
Of course they had other reasons like; security from their enemies, security in the case of earthquakes (they built right on top and their houses moved with the tremor), and religious as they wanted to be closer to their gods.
The Urubamba River is quite substantial in this area. It snakes for 4700 km. through South American and joins into the Amazon. It is one of the longest rivers in the world. One thing that was pointed out to us was the capes worn by the indigenous women before and in the Spanish depiction of religious women symbolically was representing the shape of the mountains which were considered sacred by the original people. I can see why because they are surrounded by huge, almost vertically-sided mountains.
Saturday, October 9, we were picked-up at 6:30 a.m. for the trip to Agua Calientes/ Machu Picchu. I have my fourth meal of the stuffed potato for breakfast in the train station. Peter picks-up a couple of buns and coffee from the inevitable street vendors outside the station. Although many people appear to have been separated from their families, by the time the train pulls out, we are all organized and sitting together. Our seatmates are a lady from Lima who works (runs?) a travel agency and her 20 something son who is in his last year of law at university. Their English is very good. We get the name of a good cebiche restaurant in Miraflores for when we return to Lima. The boy has never been to Machu Picchu and is taking advantage of the long weekend, and still being a student, to see it. They are heading back to Cusco tonight. We will wander Agua Calientes today, and go up on the bus tomorrow. The train ride is supposed to be spectacular, but we saw most of the area yesterday. One very interesting building technique they used for the train travelling down the valley (which is very narrow and quite steep) is they stop parallel to a lower track, back up on a rail that descends, then go forward on the lower rail. It would be difficult with longer trains, but these excursion trains have only four cars.
At one point we stopped to let off the adventuresome people who were doing the four-day Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. They do see other ruins along the way, they go through spectacular scenery, but they carry nothing but themselves or small day-packs and use walking sticks. As we watched them coming off the trail the next day to a foggy, overcast Machu Picchu, most were not smiling, some had downright “what the hell did I do that for” expressions, and the porters were the only ones carrying anything of substance. We spoke with one guy who is in the British Army and really fit, and he said the second day (the hell day by all accounts) he was simply taking two steps forward and then leaning on his sticks for support while he caught his breath and pushed himself through the next two steps. Thanks Lach for telling us that this would not be a good idea for us.
At the station in Agua Calientes, we saw a girl with a poster from our hostel, but our names were not on the board. Peter asked her if she was from our place, and she nodded at us to wait behind her. After four of five minutes, the others had not arrived, so she strided uphill with us in tow. It was only two to three minutes to the hostel. We had an en suite and a window, our two requirements, and the place was spotless. There was breakfast included beginning at 4:30 a.m. We spent the rest of the day wandering around town and getting our tickets for the bus and the site entry. What we are saving on food, we are spending on tickets as everything has increased in price since we researched them.
We toured the town for a dinner place and found a reasonable place with an adobe oven. I had baked trout, the local specialty, and it was done to perfection. Peter has spaghetti which he said was fine. We got to bed early as we figured tomorrow will be a tiring day.
Sunday, Machu Picchu day! Luckily, Peter awake early as the alarm was set for the p.m. When we struggled downstairs, all the lights were off. It turns out, the girl who is supposed to make breakfast didn’t show up. The main lady quickly made us coffee, freshly-squeezed orange juice, scrambled eggs, and buns she had to go out to get as we ate. We left our backpacks at the hostel, and wandered down to the bus in misty-rain. Not a good omen. The buses leave about every three minutes, so we did not have to wait long. Now, the trip up the fourteen or fifteen switch-backs and curvy single lane road that follows the contours of the mountain is just a little hairy. Ruth would be advised to close her eyes and not even to peak! Of course, you have the option of walking the steps up, but that would probably be a two-hour adventure. I thought of Tig and Pat and wondered if there is a Machu Picchu grind! The line-up to get in was long, but moved quickly. We got our tickets stamped to go up Huayna Picchu, but took a wrong turn and ended up going in the opposite direction up the trail that the hikers use to come into the site. Of course, it didn’t help that you could not see Huayna Picchu because of the low-flying clouds. We walked about twenty minutes or so, and were told by a guide there was a gate about forty minutes to one hour away - all up hill. To heck with that. We made our way back to a sign that pointed to the tour direction and began to explore the site. As we had learned the day before, the cities were always constructed with an agricultural zone, a housing zone, and a religious zone. At Machu Picchu today, they use llamas to cut the grass. They are very efficient grazers. Of course, in the Inca and before time, the terraces were planted with mostly potatoes. They had a way of freezing them so they lasted many (sometimes fifteen) years, and when boiled to eat, it only took three or four minutes to cook them. They had huge storage areas where they kept food for the years when the harvest was bad.
In the residential zone, the residents had a fresh-water system that actually came right into the homes. The water was also stores in reservoirs. Even today, you can see how the channels distributed the water - especially on a rainy day like we had.
The stone work in the religious zone is of a much higher standard than the others. The base stones of the buildings are huge, smoothed, and fit together without any space between. There is an area where there are boulders which were being worked on when the Incas abandoned Machu Picchu. I looked at the total of the city (between three and five thousand people lived here), and it is obvious the place was started before the Incas invaded the area. They were here for less than 100 years. There is no way so much development could have occurred in that length of time. I bought a book today about the history of the ancient kingdoms, so I hope to learn more.
The day itself began foggy, then became sunny enough that I folded up my pants, then became downright ugly. You will have to image Peter and I hunkered-down under an ancient rock in the carving area, each sitting on a small rock, eating lunch. It was raining too hard to ask anyone to take a picture. By the time we made our way to the Huayna Picchu entrance, we decided it would be foolhardy to actually attempt the climb. Sometimes you simply must put common sense before desire.
Yes, you can’t visit Peru without seeing Machu Picchu, but the spiritual side of the place is totally lost in the hoards of people scampering all over the place. It is definitely a cash cow for a country which needs the infusion of money outside of Lima.
The trip down on the bus surpassed the assent. The rain had slickened the road. I took consolation in the fact that busses going over the edge would be bad for publicity and costly to replace.
The train trip back only takes you to Ollantaytambo, so there is a two-hour taxi drive to Cusco. My seat mate said that he had paid for a taxi and if there was room we were welcome to join him. His taxi never showed up, so we shared one back. Two hours in the dark in a nail-biting, pass-anywhere trip. We arrived safely, so I guess I shouldn’t criticize. We fell into bed exhausted and did not set the alarm for this morning.
We got the laundry done and had a lazy day. I am going to miss the warm, snugly bed here at La Rosal. We have thin sheets, then two wool blankets as thick as the best quality Hudson Bays, then a thick, puffy quilt. Once you are within this cocoon, it is heaven. We are up early and off to Puno and the floating island tomorrow.
Sounds like an epic memorable "two days in one" kind of day. Any cyclists?
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