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.