Traveling back into ancient history

The next day we checked out of our hostel in Cusco to travel presumably by bus, but it turned out to be a jam packed van, to Ollantaytambo; where we would then travel by train for Agua Calientes for our last stop before Machu Picchu.  We are told that we must leave our large packs in Cusco, which I find out is not because they don't "allow" them on the train as we were told, but because they won't fit on the crowded passenger van.  We pack our day packs to the brim with supplies and clothing needed for 3 days.  The Peruvian rail line is a fairly luxurious train with comfortable seats, offerings of drinks and snacks.  There are wide windows and skylights to view the surrounding environment, which is becoming increasingly lush resembling a rainforest.  We follow a rushing, raging river the entire way.  We arrive in Agua Calientes (hot  water) amidst a throng of tourists and vendors alike.  We are told this is the off season and can't imagine how crowded this place is during the "on" season, which is June and July.  As we walk to our hostel up a steep walkway, we are solicited from every possible venue for a variety of services, mostly restaurants and massages.   If one is interested in purchasing mass produced Peruvian articles, then this is the town.  I have the feeling that much of it is manufactured in China.   Rushing streams pour from every possible sector into the swollen river.    We don't really have time to dine out at the numerous restaurants so we check into the hostel to get ready for our 5:30 a.m. bus departure for Machu Picchu.  We have to meet with our Machu Picchu tour guide we had previously arranged, who tells us about the specifics of the day, starting with our early hike at 7 a.m. to Waynu Picchu.  We are told that only 400 are allowed to hike Waynu Picchu each day.  The reason we are told is because someone fell to his death as it was overcrowded with tourists.  Now two hundred are allowed to climb up at 7 and another 200 are allowed to climb up at 8. As we were to find out, the steep, winding path can't accommodate more than one person at a time.

We arrive at the designated bus stop prior to 5:30 and find numerous tourists already in line, which ascends up the hill.  We are told that there are 20 buses available.  We wait for about 20 minutes and board a bus that transports us up the twisty, bumpy dirt road to arrive at Machu Picchu.   We had originally thought we would walk up to Machu Picchu instead of taking the bus as many were doing, but happy we decided against it when we found out the conditions of the steep trail and how exhausting the climb up Wayna Picchu and the ruins of Machu Picchu were.      The clouds and fog hovered over the mountains surrounding Machu Picchu and the ruins, which we seemed to have all to ourselves.  We were scrambling around to snatch as many photos and explore the ruins before our climb at 7 and before all the masses descend on the most popular and best known archaeological site on the continent.  We were hopeful of catching the sun rising over the jagged, lush mountains.  At one point I get lost in a maize of staircases and ancient building structures and am uncertain how to get back to the starting gate for Wayna Picchu.    I manage to arrive to the gate, slightly exhausted and thirsty.  We stand in line waiting for the 7 a.m. start.  I never do see the sun rise over the mountains as we make our start.   The narrow rock path bordered on the sides with thick vegetation with occasional ropes for the more steep sections and precipitous drop offs winding it way up Waynu Picchu.  Altitude makes the going a little more difficult.  We arrive at the top with multiple other hikers and attempt to find room on two crowded rocks for our picture moments and then there is a scramble to change places.   Clouds dot the floor of the view point.  On top, we meet a nice couple from Canada.  He confides that he is having trouble with agoraphobia.  We all go down together, which had I done it alone might have been more anxiety provoking for myself due to the damp, steep, narrow stairs, but talking him down dissipated my anxiety completely.   We make it down with time to spare before our tour and walk around the ruins.  We notice that the tourists have started arriving in droves and dot the entire Ancient landscape.  Our tour is very informative and tiring as we navigate the numerous steps, up and down, the ruins.  Reportedly the ruins were built as a summer temple for the king and took over 85 years to build but was never finished, like most of the Inca ruins we visited,  and was abandoned before the invasion of the Spanish, no doubt why it is still intact.   While searching for another lost city, an American historian Hiram Bingham came upon the overgrown ruins while being guided by a local boy.    There was no written archive of Machu Picchu other than the chronicles kept by the Spanish so the purpose and history of Machu Picchu remains largely a mystery.

We return exhausted to Agua Calientes in a driving rain.  We eat at a local restaurant and what I think is a vegetarian meal turns out to have ham (jamon) in it.  The waiter is effusively apologetic but I have a sick feeling in my stomach.    We end up catching an early train for Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley, which we find is a smaller charming town without all the hustle of Aguas Calientes or Cusco.  Although we are getting rather tired of ruins, we attempt to visit Inca ruins that stand sentinel over the town; however we find out that the required pricey ticket allows one to visit multiple other sites but as we don't have time nor inclination to visit other sites, we forgo this activity.  After two days relaxing and enjoying local culture, we return to Cuzco for a flight to Lima and a planned bus to Huaraz.

Unlike our previous Peruvian bus experience,  our next bus experience out of Lima, a large sprawling city, is less than ideal.  Again we opt for the night bus but it is overcrowded and cramped.  There is quite a long layover before the bus leaves so we spend it across the street in a huge shopping mall, eating and using wifi at the local Starbucks.    Gilly finds a travel agent and buys our plane tickets from Lima to Quito, Ecuador.  This will be the planned stop after we leave Huaraz, Peru.  We arrive at the small bus stop in Huaraz early in the morning.  The city itself is large, bustling, chaotic and run down.  It was reportedly hit with a massive earthquake in 1970 and still looked like it was in the process of reconstruction everywhere.   Unlike most cities, this did not seem to have a "better side."  In the Lonely Planet, it describes the town as not winning any beauty contests.  An understatement.  However, what drew us was the fact that it is nestled among some of the prettiest mountains of the world.  There are 22 summits over 6000m that make it the highest mountain range in the world outside of the Himalayas.  Of course we wouldn't really have time to climb any of these summits but we wanted to at least see what is referred to as a high adrenaline showpiece.   We were pleasantly surprised that our prearranged driver was at the bus stop and drove us to the very nice hostel that was also prearranged through the tour agency in Cusco.  The owner immediately invites us to have a delicious and full course breakfast.  We nap in our room until late morning and then walk around the city, looking for some redeeming qualities.  We do find some great restaurants but not much else.  We make arrangements to take an early morning tour to Laguna 69, that is nestled in the Andean landscape.    There are a few one day treks/hikes, which given our abbreviated time is all we can afford.

We were not told to prepare for the altitude for the tour of Laguna 69, but had we given it any thought we would have figured that out given it's location.  Parque Nacional Huascaran, the 3400 sq km national park encompasses almost the entire area of the Cordillera Blanca above 4000 m, according to Lonely Planet.     We find out that it is actually best to do this high altitude hike in two days.     It takes a 3 hour bus ride just to get to the park, which takes you higher and higher into the mountains.  The bus is crowded with tourists and we meet our old acquaintances, the Roses from Seattle that we met in Bariloche, Argentina.    They are traveling for an entire year.  Try as we might attempt to keep up with our younger travelers, but with each advancing step, we grow more lightheaded and struggle to breathe.  Our rest stops grow more frequent and less restful.  It's amazing how many bulls we see munching on vegetation all along the trail even on the most ridiculously steep inclines.  I secretly wish I could climb on board one of them and get a lift.   Gilly keeps assuring me that over the steep rise that the Laguna will be located but alas when we clamber over the top, we see a plateau at the base of a glacier and no Laguna.  A young Peruvian man on his way back tells us it's at least another hour's climb straight up.  A sign tells us it is 3 km.  My head is throbbing as I continue to gasp for air and realize that as the bus is set to depart at 3, I would be unlikely to make it back to the bus.  I decide the effort is not worth it.  We decide to relax on the plateau, which is a nice camping spot.  We probably made the right decision as the weather turns to rain and the blue lagoon lake would undoubtedly be impacted by the cloud filled sky.  We take a leisurely walk, taking in the beauty of the waterfalls and mountain peaks, surrounding the trail and return back to the bus and await our more fit travelers to return.  There is little talk on the way back as everyone appears exhausted.  I am disappointed that I quit as I have never quit a hike before even though I think it was the right decision.    The bus is jostled to and fro over a potholed road making my headache that much worse.   There is a traffic jam on the narrow road that turns out to be because a car has driven over the edge of the road and has landed about 30 feet below.  We return to our hostel in the rain about 3 hours later.  The following day we take a collectivo that is crammed full of travelers, about 15 in all to another archaeological site.  Gilly and I sit squeezed in front with the driver.  We make numerous stops to let passengers off and take new ones on.  We arrive at a site of ruins that predate the Incas where mummies had previously been housed.   After our visit, we decide to attempt a trekkers trail back to Huaraz, about 6 km but it veers off and lands us back on the road after about 3 km.   Before the road, we meet multiple locals who all ask in Spanish, what country are we from.  One elderly gentleman after we answered his question asked us for a tip (propino).   We finally hail another collectivo to take back to Huaraz.  By the time we arrive it is pouring rain and lightning.  We hail a motorcycle cab to take us to our Hostel for our 11 pm bus to Lima, where we are supposed to board a plane taking us to Quito, Ecuador.  Once we arrive at the airport, however, we find out that the tickets Gilly purchased in Lima were for Iquitos, Peru, which is near the Amazon.  I had wondered why the tickets were so inexpensive.   Luckily we arrived many hours before our flight so we were able to exchange our tickets for Quito, Ecuador.

Peruvian airlines were not as plush and luxurious as Argentina's airline, but we were happy not to be on a bus.  Once we went through security, it was similar to America in their procedures but more indiscriminate.    They confiscated all of our water and even our peanut butter because it said creamy, as the agent pointed to the sign reading no creams with pictures of face creams.  We tried to explain that the peanut butter was not in that category, but he wasn't buying.

Onto Quito, Ecuador and the Amazon!