Machu Picchu

So I went on the most touristy of tourist trips a few days ago. We got on a train in Cuzco that took us through absurdly beautiful mountains, fields, and rain forests, and ultimately to the town of Aguas Calientes, or Machu Picchu Pueblo. It is a real shit hole. As soon as we got off the train we were herded into a labyrinthine artisan’s market like so many cattle. Being there solely to cater to the huge numbers of tourists who pass through, the town consists of a sprawling jumble of shoddily constructed buildings, tacky gringo restaurants, and of course endless packs of hucksters trying to get a buck out of any foreigner who walks by. Cuzco itself is much the same in the last respect, but has many other redeeming qualities. In any case, the bastardization that is Aguas Calientes didn’t even begin to put a damper on the absurdly beautiful surroundings. There are emerald mountains towering up all around it which are adorned by ever changing patterns of cloud stream. Wild orchids and bromeliads sprout up everywhere.

The next morning we began the hike up to Machu Picchu. It was a very steep 2.5 kilometers or so, but of course very rewarding. At the very beginning of the walk, I saw a long and bushy striped tail disappear into the foliage on one side of the path. There were (Cattleya?) orchids everywhere. Epiphytic plants perched on almost every tree. At times it seemed there were multiple layers of them… the depth of life was amazing.

The experience of Machu Picchu itself is difficult or impossible to sum up. I think because of the extent to which it is built up in people’s minds. How can you re-describe one of the wonders of the world? How can you experience it the way it is “supposed” to be experienced? I think in the end, the things that affected me most were the things that always affect me. The seemingly endless mountains, the clouds. At one point we got out of the crowd and sat on one of the grassy slopes to the side of the ruins proper. I think my favorite part of the day was sitting there against the stone looking down into the valley below. The most impressive thing about Machu Picchu itself was the wonderful system of water channels. We saw these in all their glory, channeling the rainwater down into a series of pools. Also very impressive were the very large rabbit/squirrel/chinchillas (Viscachas) who seemed to have adapted well to the area. They sat on the walls eating blades of grass and eyed us suspiciously.

So. I don’t know what Machu Picchu’s function was, and I don’t know why everyone feels the need to theorize. All I need it to be is a beautiful place on top of beautiful mountains.

The train ride back to Cuzco the next day was an eventful one. At one point it stopped on the tracks and all the lights went out for around 40 minutes. No one seemed to know what was going on, and being somewhat neurotic, I tried to prepare myself mentally to deal with bandits. Being stuck in a dark box in Peru is not very enjoyable. The problem turned out to be a malfunctioning locomotive rather than people with firearms, or whatever other imaginative menace I could come up with.

We have been in Cuzco ever since, and are going to take a bus to Arequipa tonight.

Lima to Cuzco

After a couple of days in Miraflores, we decided to explore a bit of central Lima.  The taxi ride that got us there was the most dramatic I have ever experienced.  I think the cab drivers in Lima have created an art-form out of horn use; they are unparalleled by the likes of NY drivers.  The fleet is also curiously eclectic, featuring 1970’s American muscle cars and VW bugs.  We went hurtling through narrow, pedestrian filled streets that were paved in stone.  The sheer number of people in Lima is somewhat dizzying.  We finally got to the Plaza de Armas.  The grand stature of the spanish colonial state buildings and cathedrals was amazing.  They were highly ornate and brightly colored.  The ubiquitous machine gun police stood watch.

We walked from the Plaza de Armas down a pedestrian glutted street filled with markets and restaurants to a neighboring plaza.  At one point I turned a corner to see an Incan temple in the middle of the bustling metropolis.  Lima was more beautiful and amazing than I expected, though I was glad to leave its oppressive air pollution and crowds when  I returned to Miraflores that night.

 I spent a few more days walking around in Miraflores.  There was a vast pre-incan ruin about 10 minutes away from the hostel.  It seemed to sprawl out over miles.  We went to a vegetarian restaurant called “Govinda,” which is run by the Krishnas.  They seem to have a healthy foothold in the continent.  I watched “La Brujula Dorada” (the golden compass) while sipping Inca Kola. 

I joined an old club called “South American Explorers” that has clubhouses in cities throughout South America.  They helped us gather information about the trip.

Overall, I found Miraflores to be quite enchanting.

Finally, we bought our bus tickets to Cuzco, as we decided that it would be best to go up to Macchu Picchu before the rainy season was in full swing.  We left Lima at around 5:30.  It was quite unnerving to see the vast slums on the outskirts of Lima after spending a week in one of the more aristocratic suburbs.  The buildings went from mouldering highrises to unfinished mudbrick complexes, to flimsy one-room shacks thrown up in the coastal desert.  The summer fog only gave me glimpses of islands out in the ocean through the sandy desert hills.

Around midnight we began climbing.  The bus wound around treacherous roads in the barren mountains, southern constellations burnt into me through the window.  I have never seen the milky way so bright.  It was an entirely new sky.

After some fitful sleep, I woke up feeling sick from the altitude and the swaying of the bus.  I took diamode for the altitude and tried to find the horizon to orient myself.  We rode through hours of fog and rain, which seemed to clear suddenly to reveal the Andes.  We began climbing even higher and winding along river beds and through little farms perched on the hillsides.  Each seemed to have its own population of pigs and cows.  I saw old Andean women wearing hats and braids.

Soon I began feeling the strange numb breathlessness again.  When we finally got to Cuzco I was weak and exhausted, but the crooked cobblestone streets began working their charm on me.

We clambered into a hostel, only to discover that night that it was placed directly above a particularly rambunctious discotech.  So it was that I fell asleep to “Mr. Bombastic” my first night in the Andes.

Peru

I think I only began to feel fear about an hour before our plane landed in Lima last night.  It suddenly dawned on me that I was dropping into the middle of a dark, sprawling city of 7 million people who spoke a different language than I.  We got off the plane and found a taxi to take us to a hostel.  It quickly became clear that I was truly in an entirely different place.  There were tiny cars and colectivos flying all over the place.  Rickshaws and groups of Limeños filtered through the traffic… I caught glimpses of spanish colonial structures in a forest of nondescript concrete towers.  Our taxi driver told us that his family was from the amazon to the north…

 Today we walked around Miraflores.  There were cliffs down to the Pacific and beautiful parks filled with sculpture and mosaics and couples lying in the grass.  We bought the ingredients for our dinner at the grocery down the street for 8 soles (2 dollars) and cooked it in the communal kitchen of our hostel under flickering light, amidst a blur of languages.  I drank coca tea for the first time.

 It is sort of hard to explain the intensity of the experience.