An early view of Machu Picchu, to the left and down is the hydro-electric plant.
Perhaps a different view of the surroundings.
And yet, another angle, a perspective from height & distance.
We had to return to our apartment in Cusco before Friday night; therefore, it would be our last day with
the group. On the following day, they were off zip lining and to the hot springs while we would be in Machu Picchu.
As we had only been together for a short while, we felt comfortable that there would not be an emotional and
tearful parting—we are pleased we were able to keep the stiff upper lip. Who are we kidding? Actually, we enjoyed
most of the group except those that were fitter and stronger than us. Seriously, Fritzy and Robert, the Dutch couple,
were very good company and added to the trek.
We left the campground in the village and made two crossings of the river and a waterfall, all a little dangerous
should one not be experienced on slippery and odd placed rocks. The route was a little over 10 miles on a typical
level Peru trail—a.k.a. up and down the whole way. The countryside was very attractive but without exceptional
features although we were able to pick strawberries along the trail. Once again, we passed through small villages
as well as tiny ones, too. The funny thing is that in each, one can purchase candy and drinks at the local shed
and occasionally a tee-shirt. For one soles, one can visit the bathroom, too. As in most places, there are two
types of facilities: The first group is a man-made hole in the ground, a commode when fortunate and, when very
fortunate, to find it clean and, when exceptionally fortunate, that it flushes. In the alternative, there is
the natural toilet that works well for men—womenfolk are not as lucky. Enough said on this topic which is
of course, vital.
Is it possible to catch the elusive butterfly of love?
You woke us at 4am. Now you want a handout? You sure have chutzpah. A village en route to La Playa.
A unique part of the world.
'My bags are packed, I'm ready to go, don't know when I'll be back again...'
We had our last lunch, as opposed to supper, in La Plata which was quite a hive of activity, before terminating
the trek in Santa Theresa. We were then herded into a car to catch a train at the town of Hydro-electric, an
impressive plant. It was a rush to make the train, coincidentally, Peru Railways. There’s an awful lot of
formality around here. We’ve seen it before including both our homelands. Governments provide employment
opportunities to its citizens, also known as ‘featherbedding’. Wherever one goes, the passport is essential.
To catch a train from one town to another, we needed official documents. In Machu Picchu, we showed our ticket
and passport at the bottom gate, hiked up 1,400 feet and showed both documents again. We had to display a ticket
to climb Machu Picchu Mountain at the first entrance, present both ticket and passport at the gated entrance
to the mountain as well as filling in the visitor’s book with details including mother’s maiden name and personal
position regarding gay marriage—well almost. Airplane travel hasn’t got anywhere near as strict as this.
However, give it time and it will. Fortunately, we never had to take our boots off, lucky for them.
Talking of boots, on Tuesday evening, Fritzy asked us how she could dry her boots after the heavy rain. We replied
that our boots had not been dry since before the storm in Cusco the previous Sunday morning.
At the hydro-electric plant, we stopped to fill in the visitor’s book. “We left our passports in the car,” we mentioned
to the driver. In front of the two security personnel sitting behind the desk, as bored as can be,
he replied, “No problem. Make up any number.” We felt we were playing ‘Think of a number’.
The sequence of 'shots' below were over a period of about ten minutes.
Smoke and mirrors, an old Inca illusion.
Is it starting to clear?
We do believe it is lifting
Yes, indeed! Looks like its going to be a wonderful day.
'Presto'. Clouds almost gone. Jen a little wet, a little tired but a lot elated.
The train arrived in Aguas Calientes, a quaint town that sits below the famous ruins. The hotel manager, Rudolph,
led us to a room—the trek goes upscale for the last night. After a discussion of his personal history, he showed
us how the hot water faucet (tap) worked. This exercise also occurred at our apartment in Cusco. We don’t know
whether we look particularly stupid or it's a local custom. We would prefer no comments, please...okay, but
only one per reader. By the way, there’s another custom in Peru worth mentioning. It’s more than suggested that
one not flush toilet paper. We will leave it to the imagination as to what should be done with the discarded tissues.
We hope you're not eating while reading.
After mastering the complicated technique of turning on the faucets, our beloved editor sent us out to find
an ATM. Our cash resources had dwindled after gratuities expended at the close of Trek One. Unfortunately, Jenni
was feeling rather ill and needed to conserve energy. We returned over an hour later, forty minutes late—we got
lost taking a short-cut through the market, a shopper's paradise. Rumor has it that no one has ever been lost in
this town before. We met our new guide, David, and team-two, another mixed couple, Christina, a German and Stephane,
a Frenchman. In theory, one might not see a match. However, they were a charming couple although a bit on the
young side, 35 and 28. 'Where have all our contemporaries gone?' Guides are a big deal in this part of the world.
We much prefer to go it alone but David provided us an interesting perspective of the history of the Inca ruins.
Soaked, tired, a little ill but would not swop the experience for anything...Why,what you offering?
Looking down at Huana Picchu from the 'Old Mountain'. Note the trail steps near the top.
Another favorite of ours, actually love this scene.
The hotel room did not have an alarm clock. Requiring a 4-o’clock wake time, the pressure was building to get a
good night’s sleep but wake automatically. You might notice we're keeping odd hours on hike-about. Rudolph
said he would wake us. You can imagine how light our sleep was, worrying about being on time and not knowing the
reliability of the personnel in the land of ‘manana’. Nevertheless, we were up well before the manager knocked on
our door at 4:20am. Tea and coffee followed and we headed for the bottom gate at Machu Picchu in the dark and
of course, the rain. Hey, are we having fun yet.
To be continued…
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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