Machu Pichu, November 4, 2012

"In one of the most spectacular settings on earth, the great Inca ruler Pachacuti built a royal retreat and scared center known as Machu Pichu. Commenced in the middle of the fiftheen century, it was used by Pachacuti and his roayl family, who continued to improve the site until the empire was destroyed by the Spaniards,... who never visited this site."
(Ruth Wright, The Machu Pichu Guidebook)

There are two ways to get to Machu Pichu:  the original method, by foot, or the modern method, by train.  The Inca Trail is not just one trail,

but a network of ancient roads, getting goods and people from one tambo, or way station, to another.  The trails cross each other from Lake Titicaca to Machu Pichu and north, all through the Sacred Valley, and over the mountains to the Colca Canyon and down to the coast.  We met other travelers who had chosen to hike the Trail from Cusco to Machu Pichu.  We understand it's a beautiful, uphill, four-day hike.  Stuart and I took a bus from Urubamba to Ollantaytambo, where we luckily were able to buy train tickets for later that day. 
pictures:  Stuart on the Trail, at the gate to Ollantaytambo;  hat vendors at the Ollantaytambo ticket office.  


   














The tickets for non-nationals are much higher priced than the tickets for nationals, and yet it's still far too much money for most Peruvians.  Our tickets, round trip, were over $200US.  Most Peruvians we met had never seen Machu Pichu, or any of the other wonders of their own country.  We had very comfortable seats for the 2 1/2 hour trip from Ollantaytambo to Aquas Calientes.  We traveled from the high desert, along the river, up to the tropical forest with orchids hanging from tropical zone trees, beyond to the high mountains. The train trip was beautiful!  The train tracks to Machu Pichu, beyond Aquas Calientes, were destroyed in an earthquake in 2001 (2000?), a road was built and buses were brought in to ferry tourists the last five miles.  Walking from Aquas Calientes is still an option!

In Aquas Calientes, we found a room in the Hostel los Caminantes, the Walkers.  Shared bath, cheap.  We then found the bus station, to buy  tickets to ride the bus the last 5 miles up the mountain tomorrow.  We were on the 5:30am bus, light in the sky, but the sun hadn't appeared yet. 

The first view of Machu Pichu, driving up the mountain, made us gasp.  No chatter on the bus, just awe.  Once inside the ticket gate, our first view was from the Guardhouse, overlooking most of the complex.

Stuart and I spent most of the day exploring what would take weeks to see.  first hiking to the Bridge to the Sun, then coming back to the terraces above the Temple and houses.  We watched the light change as the sun came over the mountain.

The Incans were incredible engineers, building foundations far more complex than modern methods.  The beauty of the rock walls is legendary, perfect joinery without tools other than sand, other rocks and bronze.  The baths are as complex as the foundations, fresh water running continuously through a series of pools, as thoughtfully designed as any fancy house today.

We were fortunate to have a perfect sky, and several hours before the day-tripping crowds arrived on the 10:30 train to explore.  It would take months to see it all, I'm lucky to have had one day in this spectacular place.


     Sunrise, above Machu Pichu.

















karen, at the Main Gate, the end or beginning of the Inca Trail to Machu Pichu.

Moray and Salinas

                Just outside of the crossroad village of Urubamba are two Incan curiosities:  Moray and Salinas.  We caught a bus  to an intersection about 10 miles out of town, got off the bus and hired a taxi to take us another 8 miles to Moray.  Think of Moray as the Agricultural Extension Service of the Incans.  These three depressions close to each other in the high desert are thought to be experimental plant labs.  Researchers have found crop seeds on the terraces dating to the fifteenth century.  Makes sense to me:  each terrace is in a different micro climate, the amount of sun differs from one side of the circle to the other side, the amount of water from run-off differs on each level. 

Again, the engineering is marvelous.  The steps are cantilevered in the terrace walls, and each level is more than head-high.  The day we were there was stormy, normal for that time of year.  Where Stuart is standing would have been planted with potatoes, corn, quinoa, fruits or other vegetables.


































The taxi driver drove us through the dry pastures past many small herds of sheep, about 15 miles, to the tiny village of Salinas.  Another Incan engineering curiosity.  Salinas, a form of the word for salt, is a mile-long series of salt pools, fed by a spring higher up the mountain.  There were hundreds of salt pools!  Each one is managed by a family who's roots trace several centuries in this area.  They collectively mine and sell the salt from these pools, passing along ownership that reads like a well-detailed family tree.  The paths between the pools are as much as foot thick with salt accumulation, not more than a foot-print wide.  The pools vary in depth from a few inches to more than 2 feet deep.  We were there on a holiday, we saw only one pool being worked.  Two women, both barefoot, were raking and bagging the salt from their family pool. 

The view from the top was beautifully white, and even on this gray day was blindingly bright.  It took us one hour to hike through the pools, and out at the end of the valley.  We continued hiking for another couple of hours, back out to the highway, where we waited a very short time for a bus back to Urubamba.

We planned our route to Machu Pichu to begin with time in the Sacred Valley, to get a little understanding of the history of the Incans.  Today, we passed young children, maybe 5 years old in the high valley, in charge of the family sheep. We saw houses and other buildings that looked to be as old as the rocks, walked through a village that was locked from the road by the Urubamba River, accessible only by a foot bridge.  We walked past a house being built using lumber, pretty rare here.  The lumber being cut with a chainsaw.  There was no electricity, but gas is available.  Most structures are either stone or cement, two materials that are cheap and available.

Tomorrow, we'll travel by bus to Ollantaytambo, and buy a train ticket to Aquas Calientes, and then buy another bus ticket for the final 5 miles to Machu Pichu.

Home sweet home in Peru

So many pictures!  Here are a few of some of the best places we laid our heads at night...

Urubamba.  The Pear Trees Hostal.  Our Quechua-speaking host is a retired chemist, who is now gardening without the aid of chemicals.  Beautiful garden!  Great outdoor oven, where he cooked cuy, guinea pig, for us.

Our hostel in Aquas Calientes, right beside the train tracks.  Yep, it was noisy!  Ollantaytambo, where we caught the train to Aquas Calientes, the tiny town just before Machu Pichu...  the street of steps up to the Bright Hostel in Cusco...the view from our rooftop on the Island of Taquile in Lake Titicaca...the view from our rooftop in Arequipa, of  El Misti (the volcano) and sunset behind the biggest cathedral in the country...a very cold sunset in Colca Canyon...the oasis of Huacachina, from the top of a Very Big Sand Dune.  Our hostel is in the foreground of the buildings....our hostel in Paracas...

                         

Spuds and more

          As food goes, potatoes have figured prominently in the story of many nations.  I think of the Irish, and the devastating potato famine; the panic-driven temporary name change to Freedom Fries in the USA; and sweet potatoes in many other cultures.  Much of Peru's food begins and ends with the lowly tuber.  Potatoes are from Peru, and there are literally hundreds of varieties, some say as many as 3000.  Some are grown only on a family farm, where they trace the beginnings back several centuries.  Those are the potatoes that will never be tasted by people outside of the village or maybe even the family.  Like other crops, there are varieties that grow only at certain elevations and temperatures.

In the markets, we saw the dozen or more varieties of commercially grown potatoes, in colors and shapes that made me stare.  Purple, bright yellow, large, small, oddly shaped, even dried.  Sometimes, I saw women in the markets furiously peeling, chopping or grating potatoes, bagging them for sale.  Convenience foods!  In the restaurants, we ordered dishes such as ocopa - potatoes in a spicy peanut sauce; papa huancaina - potatoes bathed in a creamy cheesy sauce; causa - an architectural potato salad stuffed with all kinds of things; papa rellenos - a mashed potato stuffed with ground beef and deep fried.  The order of ceviche in a restaurant always came with a pretty, deep orange potato, that was sweet but not like the sweet potatoes I know.  We tried them all, and loved every bite.  Fortunately, we could also eat other foods.  Some people are so poor they eat potatoes three meals a day.

In the markets, we saw lots of other beautiful vegetables and fruits.  We bought fruits to taste, asking for the name, but not always getting it correct when we repeated it!  The giant pumpkins/squash were the most eye-catching, because of their size.  They were often sold in slices, cooking one of those whole, giant squash would be the definition of eternity!

The fruit we really liked the best was called pepina, with the texture of a peach and the flavor sort of like that of an apple.  The lucuma, which we never visually identified, was delicious in a milk shake and I detected the flavor of it in a couple of stews, too.

Peru is a country for foodies, with specialties such as cuy (roasted guinea pig) and potato dishes dreamed up by artists, chinese chifa (stir-fried rice dishes) and seafood in every imaginable preparation.  Chicharron (deep fried pork), chicha ( a sweet drink made from purple corn), estofado de res (beef stew), and sopa criollo.  And, conchas, a specific large-kernaled yellow corn that is soaked and cooked in a dry skillet until it puffs.  Not at all like popcorn, but served with ceviche and other dishes, and often as a nibble before the meal is served.

There is no reason for a tourist with a few soles in her pocket to go hungry in this country.  Provecho!

Lima Pictures

The 1900 Hostel, in central Lima.  The beautiful old mansion housed several businesses on the street level, our hostel on the second floor, and multiple families living in very small spaces behind the central courtyard.   













Papas huancaina:  boiled potatoes with a very tasty cheese/pepper sauce.  It was very slightly spicy, a dish we saw everywhere.



















Ceviche.  Served everywhere, always with slivers or red onion, a tasty sweet potato (no, not like any sweet potato I've ever tasted), and huge, boiled corn kernals.  I had cevich many times during the 5 weeks, and it was always delicious!










The poor Madre Patricia, the symbolic mother of Peru, with the llama on her head.  According to Lonly Planet, she was commissioned in Spain with instructions to put a crown of flames on her head.  Unfortunately, the word for flames is llama.  San Martin is the liberator of Peru, the namesake of the plaza.  It is a pretty plaza, particularly at night, when all the grand, white buildings surrounding it are lighted, including the stately Gran Hotel Bolivar.  We looked inside, but surely could not afford to stay there!









   







 In the HUGE park surrounding the modern art museum, which was directly across the street from our hostel, we discovered Michael Jackson alive and well, and performing for awe-struck fans.  He has learned so speak spanish in the past few years, too.  He, and the crowd, was fun to watch, and the exhibit at the art museum was interesting and well done.









After we tore ourselves away from Michael, we walked a few more blocks to the Park of Illuminated Fountains.  It is so over-the-top, even jaded, cool people were pointing and laughing.  We arrived at the park just before dark, and watched as the magic changed with the lights.  Some fountains were elegant, some were whimsical, and many were interactive, including this one.  The labrinth had everyone's attention:  the water jetted from the walkways, creating labrinth-like paths.  At random, the water jets changed position, creating new paths and catching people by surprise.  The tunnel of love fountain was another popular place.  We spent several hours here, had a late supper of ceviche and Cusquena beers on the way back to the hostel.









Stuart, in front of one of the few casonas, old mansions, that are still standing.  Truly grand old house, many of which have been destroyed over the years by the frequent earthquakes.  The elaborate Moorish-style carvings above Stuart were to protect the rich women from being seen, while they watched the happenings on the street.

The Sacred Valley

The bus to Urubamba, a colectivo because it collects passengers as it goes, was ridiculously cheap:8 soles for the 2 hour trip. About $8US for both of our tickets. We drove over more mountains, past small villages and miles of terraced fields. We saw lots of sheep, one tractor, and ox pulling a single plow through the rocky brown soil. Urubamba is a crossroad village, Pisaq in one direction, in the other direction Ollantaytambo and Machu Pichu beyond that. We chose to spend a few days in Urubamba because of it's slightly lower elevation and access to some Inca history we want to study. It's a small town, pop.2700. It was lower, but still more than a mile above sealevel. We asked for directions and were pointed up the hill to the hostel Los Perales. The Pear Trees. It was an enchanted garden! A wild mess of paths through vegetables and flowers and fruit trees of all kinds. Our host spoke Quechua first, Spanish second, and a few words of English. A retired chemist, he was gardening without the use of chemistry.

We spent four delightful nights here, coming "home" after a day full of exploring, to sit in the garden with a warm beer and my paper journal. No internet in the village, but much to see: women leading llamas, dressed in bright colored skirts and tall hats. I soon learned to identify their home village by the hat.
Yu
Pisaq is an hour south in the valley, home of a truly awesome citadel built in the mid-1400's. It's second in importance and grandness to Machu Pichu, and more is known about it because it's not only older, but was lived in longer than Machu Pichu. The extensive terracing covers all the hillsides surrounding the residential areas, the military areas, and the sacred temple buildings on the top of the mountains. We took a bus to the village, and then a taxi to the ruins which completely dominate the skyline above Plaza in the small village. We planned to hike down, following one of the two paths back to the village.

The Incans chose the site for this City with good thought. The hilltop is surrounded on three sides by either rivers or a river gorge, and commands a view of the valley in two directions. We hired Roosevelt to give us a tour. He pointed out things we would have missed, and explained the architecture and told us a little more of the history than we had read. In turn, we paid his small fee, and gave him a few words of english he can use with other tourists.

The beautiful hike down took more than an hour, I can't imagine hiking up! We had lunch at one of the empanda restaurants, watching while the young man cooked our lunch in the big, handmade clay, wood-fired oven. The cuy 'palace' was in the corner, the furry critters chattering in the pen. We think of them as pets, but they are a special dinner in the Sacred Valley area, and in Lima.

Cusco or Cuzco

The view of the Andes Mountains from the plane was gorgeous, unlike any mountains I've ever seen. We arrived in Cusco late afternoon. The difference between Lima and Cusco was as dramatic as the view of the mountains. Quiet, calm traffic, blueblue sky and very tiny streets. The taxi took us into the old section of town, where we had chosen a hostel listed in Lonely Planet. We hiked up a narrow, steep, cobblestone alley to the Hostel Bright. We got a room with bath, a treat! The THREE wool blankets on the be were a warning. Cusco, or Cuzco, is more than 3000 meters above sealevel, and we both have a wee head ache. Reason number 2 to move onto Urubamba tomorrow. I wanted to see the Inca story in some sort of order, and starting in the Sacred Valley not only puts the history in order, but gives us time to acclimate because most of the Sacred Valley is lower. We were lucky enough to stumble on Restaurant Marcela Batata for dinner. Wes started with my first Pisco sour drink:a grape brandy mixed with lemon juice, sugar and egg white. Delicious! The bar snack was potatoes fried crisp, served with a delicious garlic sauce. We moved onto potatoes croquantes, served with three different sauces. Yes, of course I took a photo, but photos will have to wait until i get home...too complicado to add them now. Then, we ordered papas rellenos: mashed potatoes stffed with beef and vegetables. Delicious! And, all beautifully presented. We finished our breathless evening on the rooftop, to see the lights of the city, climbing up the miuntainsides all around.

Nighty night. More Inca adventure tomorrow

Chinatown and catacombs

The Hostel 1900 is an old mansion, built with concrete and stone. Typical construction materials for both the time and place. The style is typically Spanish, too, with a central courtyard. There is nothing to absorb sound. Ohboy, every sound bounces around like a rubber ball. But, it's clean, good location, and cheap.

There is a big, beautiful park filled with fountains. Huge, over-the-top water features. With colored lights, and music. We walked several blocks along the busy avenue, bought tickets before dark, and watched the changes in the fountains as the sunlight faded and the lights came on. The park was built in the early 1900's, a gift to the city. It was fun to watch the people playing in the water, teasing themselves with the really big fountains that you could run in and out of. It was a nice spring night, a little cool, but nice. My favorite fountain was the Labrinth. No fountain, but water shooting up to form the "paths" in a typical labrinth-like way. The water changed patterns, however, catching people by surprise, and trapping them in a path, until the water changed patterns again.

Chinatown in Lima? Si! We walked through the small streets, smelling the food looking in the shops. Mostly restaurants, but meat markets and other small stores. We had lunch with Chinese businessmen, the only tourists in the place. It was very tasty, and we asked for a caja para llevar, a to-go box for our leftovers. Dinner will be at the hostel, with cheap beer.

The San Francisco Catacombs was not on my list, but we went anyway. I'm glad we did. The Convent is now in a newer (late 1700's) building, the catacombs beneath the original church. We had to take the tour, given by a Very Serious Woman, who had memorized the script, in English. We were the only native English speakers in the small group, most of the others were European. When the original catabombs were discovered in 1932, the archaologists moved the bones, and made collections of them. Leg bones in this pile, arm bones in another, and so on. Big, deep brick bins of bones. The library was far more interesting, the spanish woodwork was very grand. The monks had two huge books they used during services. The books were almost as tall as me, and sat in front of their fancy chairs in the chapel...one book for many monks to read from a distance.

The food in Lima is good, so far. One meal of ceviche was delicious: a healthy serving of ceviche mixto (different fish), with a piece of lacy seaweed garnish, a piece of sweet potato, and a pile of puffed corn kernals. The ceviche was slightly picante. The puffed corn was curious. Of course I asked how it was prepared! The kernals are soaked in water, then you put them in a hot pot, with the lid on. They sort of puff up and pop open. Not at all like popcorn, more like nuts. There are many different kinds of corn, and I'll try them all!

On to the Sacred Valley, by plane, over the Andes Mountains tomorrow. We'll spend the night in Cuzco, and move on to Urubamba in order to see the Sacred Valley in order of the history, and to get used to the high altitude.

Foggy Lima

Hemingway was right: this is "the saddest, gray city". I do disagree about the sad part, but the gray description at least this time of year, is accurate. The fog hangs over the city like a blanket. So why did Pizarro build his Sparkling Empire here? He founded the city in January 156?, when the sky was brilliantly sparklingly blue. The middle of summer here.

Our hostel, theh 1900 Hostel, is directly across the busy thoroughfare from the MALI, the Mueseo de Arte de Lima. We caught the last day of an exhibit on Carlos Baca-Flor Sunday. A lifetime of work was on display, from drawings he made during his teenage years to the portraits of JP Morgan the year before he died, and the Parisian street scenes and landscapes he dabbled with in between. We walked about 100 miles yesterday (OK, maybe that´s an exaggeration!), to the downtown to see the Catedral (of course), the Governor´s Palace and several pretty plazas. In the Plaza San Martin, we found the statue of the Lady of the Llama. She was supposed to have a flame on her head, but the spanish for flame and llama is apparently the same word, and the sculptor chose lifestock. ohwell. The city is tranquil, in spite of the heavy traffic, and clean.

I just tried to insert a picture here, and will need to work on the method...Stuart is waiting to begin our day´s adventures, so will sign off now.

Leaving Mrytle Beach

We left the RESORT hotel in Mrtyle Beach before the sun rose, with rain coming down. A phone call to the airlines confirmed all was on schedule. Hurricanne Sandy is not going going to interfere with our trip beginning. We spent far too much time in the Ft. Lauderdale airport, arriving in Lima late last night. We are staying at the 1900 Hostel for a few days. The hostel is directly across the street from the big art museum,The Mali. Off to find adventure in Lima!

Lisa and Harper arrive, we depart

Can you believe this luck?  I mean with Hurricane Sandy.  It's too late in my life for a hurricane to come ripping up the east coast.  Guess Sandy didn't get my message.  So, we hoping the blow won't change the plans for air traffic out of Florida, where we depart Saturday for Lima, Peru.  I'm trusting Spiritair to make the right decision.  I've wanted to spend some time in Ft. Lauderdale.... 

Lisa and Harper arrived yesterday.  How they can live with so few bags is a real eye-opener.  They each had one medium sized suitcase.  Wait.  I'm going away for 5 weeks with a back pack.  Well, I guess we really need far less than we are hoarding.  ohboy, I'm proud to say that it took less than 5 minutes to clean out the guest bedroom closet, because there was almost nothing in it.  We had a lovely evening, talking and having a typical karen dinner:  whatever is in the fridge and pantry usually comes together for a meal that can't be duplicated.  We were all out and about today, so we'll get to the List tonight and tomorrow.  You know, how to operate the dryer with the timer that isn't reliable; which door is squeaky; trash day; and how to add salt to the water softener.  They are hauling us to Myrtle Beach tomorrow afternoon, for our early Saturday  flight.  Wooohoooooo!  oh, and Lisa is a quilter, so is going to be able to use the embarrassment or riches in my studio while we're away.

Totally different topic:  The Sistahs did some batik experimenting last week.  Here is the yellow-over-blue dye pot.  The light color is the original color, yellow.  After applying the wax, we put this in blue dye.

 This is a piece I dyed, using Ann Johnston's Parfait method.  The dyes were old, so I'm surprised with the outcome.  I expected this to be much more washed-out looking.

 This is Bonnie's, and it is much brighter than the camera captured!

 This is mine,and will become a blouse next spring.  I'm reaalllly happy with how this one came out. 

ok, down to the last few decisions:  water color pencils or water color crayons?