The Road to Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu is the most important archaeological site in South America. Its standard photo of the stone ruins surrounded by imposing mountain peaks is on everything from T-shirts to mousepads. Its the one most over-hyped tourist destination in Peru. And its every bit worth it.

Of coure no pilgrimige to Machu Picchu is complete without taking on the 4 day Inca trail to reach the sacred site. Of course the Inca trail is also overpriced and almost impossible to do unless you book months in advance. So we didn't. But we did do an 'alternative' Inca trail which still made us feel Inca-y and cost a hell of a lot less.

We started the first day by taking a 4 hour bus ride up a 4000m mountain (just like the Incas did) and then down halfway where we pulled our pristene mountain bikes off the roof of the bus and began our 5 hour descent. It was awsome. I have never downhill biked for that long through villages, waterfalls, rivers, jungle and cemetaries. We went from freshly paved road to joint-jittering rock paths. Our first casualty was SM, with her back brake not working she was flung over the front of the bike and into the abyss. So she scraped her arm, and got to trade bikes with the guide- who later threw her bike on the ground in disgust claiming that it wasnt a good bike. Really?

Next Monica's chain fell off a few times (not to mention some pant-wetting issues), an Irish guy fell off his bike and broke 2 gears off, William got 3 flat tires (giving up and carrying his bike for the last 100m), Charles hit a rock and broke is wheel, and a few more chains fell off. I was the only lucky one with no problems at all except for having the same back break as SM, but it didnt cause me any difficulties.

We arrived to our hostel in Sta. Maria tired, dirty and jolted, but thorroughly satisfied. It was the first time I'd slept at a gas station, and before going up we played deflated soccer with a ball-hungry dog.

The next day we hiked through the ghost town of old-Sta. Maria that had been destroyed (along with most of the train tracks) by the raging Urubamba river during '97's El Niño. We walked up a mountain through Coca plantations and onto an old path once used by Inca messangers.

The locals either chew the coca leaves or use them to make tea. They're supposed to give you energy to continue your manual labor and help with altitude sickness too. Here the growers mostly sell their leaves to cocain producers that give them good prices for their harvest. The Govt. has tried to subsidize farmers to grow other products but the fact that they still get better prices from cocaine producers and that its growth remains legal for cultural uses means that it hasn't made much progress.

On the old Inca trail our nature-friendly guide bent over a yuca tree to show us the leaves, breaking it in half in the process. Instead of destroying the evidence we decided to cameflauge ourselves in yuca leaves and blend in with the local surroundings. It worked so well. After descending to the river and walking along its rock-strewn edge (and through japanese gardens) we corssed the river in a DIY cable car, finally arriving at the blissful hot springs.

The huge pools, still under construction were hugged on one side by the granite mountain rocks, overlooking the river on the other. We steamed there for 2 hours, taking a twix (Twix!) break and being bitten to death by tiny bugs when we reluctantly dried off.

We spent the night at the little village of Sta. Teresa, being followed by 'Take on me' we watched a local soccer game before going to sleep in our roofless room (The roof was plastc tarp.). We woke up at 3:30am to some drunk guys haggling on top of our heads, but I was able to continue dreaming of being crowned king in a supermarket (yea...).

The final morning we bussed down to hydroelectroc city and spent the day walking down old railroad tracks and making train noises- another highlight of the trip. We finally arrived in Aguas Calientes, the town below Machu Picchu and settled into our hostel. By now we'd accumulated an array of interesting smells with our 3 day old socks, dusty pants, and disheveled hair. Just the way we like it.

Next morning's 4am wake up call had us marching (then huffing, and gasping) up the mountain to the site of Machu Picchu for what was the hardest walk of the trek so far. We reached the summit sweaty and out of breath, but proud for being the first visitors of the morning - that is until 2 minute later when we hear the hum of bus engines and the hiss of pneumatic doors opening to unleash 50 tourists onto the steps of the ruins. Bastards.

After entering the site we ran to the other end of the ruins to get our ticket that would allow us to climb Wayna Picchu (the peak looming over the ruins). We ran because our guide told us to and cuz they only let 200 people climb that mountain a day. The booth was closed. It would open at 7. What ensued was the running tour of Machu Picchu as we sprinted back to the guard house at the top (and opposite end) of the ruins where our guide would begin his tour. The tour begain. Halfway through the tour (and after 7am) our guide instructed us to return to the booth to get our tickets so we could climb it later. Again, we dashed to the booth only for them to tell us that we must climb the mountain right away. Not wanting to miss the end of our tour we ran back (again) through the now-familiar ruins and up the hill back to our guide. I was pissed. Later, at the end of our tour we got the opportunity again to try the booth, but in protest I decided not to climb it and spend an hour sleeping in the sun instead.

Machu Picchu is everything its said to be-and more. The ruins are massive, the stonework flawless, the surroundings breathtaking and tourists numerous. After out tour we spent some time wandering around the site and after losing each other one-by-one I spent an hour just laying in the grass and admiring the imposing site.

The afternoon we made our way back down the mountain with running bus-boys and took the 2:30 train back to Cuzco. We reached Cuzco tired, hungry, happy and badly needing a shower.