Former President of India, the late Abdul Kalam once said, 'you have to dream before your dreams can come true.' Such wise words. My bucket list groans with my travel dreams. All I want is to wander the world, expand my mind and notch up experiences in my life journey. Given my ascendance into a higher age group, I do have a pecking order. Number one on that list was a 15th century Inca citadel nestled in the Andes; the Unesco heritage site, Machu Picchu. My dream was to do the four-day Inca trail but gym injuries forced a truncated plan.
The beauty of living in New York allows for the luxury of direct flights. Since the plan was to do a quick in and out, late one Wednesday night, we boarded Latam from JFK, fastened our seat belts and fell into a deep slumber, waking up in the southern hemisphere. There are many flights between Lima, the capital of Peru, and Cusco, the former capital of the Inca empire.
'Only three per passenger' said the sign on a basket of dried leaves inside the terminal at Cusco. I grabbed some and started munching. The paranoia of altitude sickness and exhortations of MP veterans to ensure I drink lots of coca tea was having its effect on me. In fact coca is available in all forms; there are coca sweets, gummy bears, chocolates, leaves and the tea is available at every hotel, shop and street corner. On an aside, I drank gallons of the stuff on my first day and while I didn't feel any altitude sickness, I was awake all night! I also tried tripping on fresh oxygen but don't think it made much of a difference. Cylinders are available at most hotels and all tourist vehicles. They don't really tell you so if you are feeling the altitude, make sure to ask.
Rumi Punku, a 3 star boutique hotel, was our base in Cusco. Tourism being the main economy of the city, there are apartments, boutique and budget hotels, hostels, three stars and four star hotels as well as luxury hotels such as Palacio del Inka and JW Marriot. Our hotel was cute but there are no elevators. We got a room on the third floor and after spending a day traversing up and down the ruins of the area, it was a trek getting to the room. There is a basic spa and I almost walked out when I saw it but I'm glad I didn't because the massage I got, assuaged the aches and pains of the trek up and down Machu Picchu mountain. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
A half day rest had us refreshed and ready for nourishment. We exited our hotels and gasped our way to Pacha papa. Enroute, we came across local women dressed as Incas, with their llamas. The first few had me excited but by the end of my trip, I realized like zebras on safari, they are everywhere. We took them for granted. Having said that, there's no denying their rosy cheeks and vivid colors of their outfits makes for a stunning picture. Juggling steep steps, narrow lanes and a parade of cars didn't prepare us for an open square where life seemed to come to a standstill. Pacha papa literally translating to Earth potato has a chilled vibe. Beside the wood burning oven, an Incan man played an Andean harp. We shared tables with other tourists and got tips on what to eat and where to go. Guinea pig and trout are the two must have dishes. We decided to stay light with a delicious quinoa soup. As we drove through the country later, we saw many farms growing this indigenous crop in an assortment of hues. Satiated, we were ready to hit the town with a private guide.
What followed was a journey into the bowels of civilization. We began with Sacsayhuaman, originally a fortress built by Inca King, Pachacuti. The massive boulders are testament to construction skill without the benefit of modern technology. In fact, all through, we see how Inca masons erected stone edifices without using mortar and simply by interlocking. They treated the stones like giant lego blocks. Pachacuti had planned Cusco such that it resembles a puma with Sacsayhuaman as the head. With a vivid imagination, you can almost see the puma from a higher vantage point. Another interesting stop is at Tambomachay, where the Inca people took a ritual bath before any ceremony. The water spouts from an opening in the hill. At the archaeological site of Q'enqo, it was fascinating to see the cave where the Inca prepared their dead. A sudden drop in temperature indicated they didn't need ice to keep the bodies in a rigor mortis condition. The stone where the bodies were laid, is ice-cold to touch.
After gallivanting in the outskirts, it's time to head back to visit popular sites of Cusco itself. The city is quaint with narrow, cobbled streets. I'm amazed at driving skills especially in the perimeter of the city centre area where most tourists congregate. In the central square is the Sagrada familia Cathedral, which was constructed by the Spanish conquerors using Inca labour. Though subjugated and prevented from following their rituals, the workers managed to evoke scenes within the cathedral to reflect local beliefs. These can especially be seen in some of the paintings in the cathedral. Another amazing example of the fusion of Inca and Spanish architecture is at Koricancha temple, in the heart of Cusco. An interesting detail shows the Spanish built their church on an Incan temple of the sun but the Spanish facade disintegrated to reveal the Incan layer. It is now an amalgamation of Spanish dominance and Incan history. The building is stunning and the views from the site look out over Cusco. Since we visited when the sun was preparing to set, the entire monument was bathed in a golden glow.
A quick rest in our hotel and we were set for another meal. 'Try Limo,' our guide and hotel receptionist told us. "It's the best restaurant in Cusco.' We made a reservation but when we got there, it turned out to be a fancy Japanese restaurant. We decided to give it a skip. When in Peru and all that! One of the tourists we'd encountered had suggested Cicciolina. Google maps took us all over the square and after much back and forth, we finally went down a side street and panted our way up to the second floor restaurant of an old colonial home. The building seems to have many interesting art galleries and cute eating places. I couldn't wait to have my first Pisco sour in Peru. But we were in for a disappointment. The minimum wait time was 45 minutes. We were exhausted and had an early morning departure the next day. They directed us to Baco but it seemed pretty dead. We had a nondescript meal at a restaurant where the waiter spoke no english and my friend was collapsing from altitude sickness. I did get a delicious Pisco, which was followed up by two cups of coca tea. Bad idea.
After a sleepless night, I was raring to go, at the first crack of dawn. We were headed out of Cusco and into the Sacred valley. Somewhere between Cusco and Pisac, we stopped at Awanacancha. Llamas, Alpacas, a Vicuna or two and some Guanacos milled in a sealed area. We fed grass to some of these camel like creatures but wondered how the beautiful woolen garments we've been spotting came from this filthy, matted wool. The answer comes soon enough. This centre is home to fourteen communities that farm wool and weave it into scarves, carpets, jackets, socks and other woolen accessories. The process of preparing the wool is painstaking. Natural, organic colors are coaxed with the help of a parasite found on local cacti, some pee and other ingredients.
Pisac is a fine example of terrace cultivation. Sitting on the grassy patches and surrounded by hills, is a meditative experience. The Pisac market is a tourist magnet but we managed to find delicious empanadas to stave off hunger pangs. After a long, meandering drive alongside the sacred river also known as Urubamba or Vilcamayo, we headed to Ollantaytambo. Along the way we saw a variety of autorickshaw like vehicles reminding us of Asian countries. Some of them sported a Bajaj logo. The company is literally climbing heights! The royal estate of King Pachakuti had me gasping. By the time I got to the top, all I could do was slump by the temple of Pachamama or Earth Goddess. The mountain across had caves that served as granaries. I had to marvel at the fitness of the Incas who climbed up and down these steep slopes and even stored their grain so high. The terraces for cultivation dominate the central area with a route from there that goes direct into Pisac town. We took the 'non vertigo' path back to the bottom, which was longer, winding and at times quite rough. My antenna went up dreading the club to Machu Picchu the next day but our guide assured me this climb was tougher.
The town itself is picturesque. The entire street is paved in keeping with the way it looked during Inca times. Driving on the road is like accupressure on steroids. The vistadome train to Aguas Calientes, at the base of Machu Picchu, leaves from this town. The process is impressively streamlined. I guess this is possibly the highest source of tourist revenue. The bathroom at the station is squeaky clean, the process simple so that even before the train steamed into the station, our documents had been whetted and we were good to go. People swooped into the compartment, brooms in hand, as soon as the passengers disembarked. A quick clean and the train was set to carry another load back up the mountains. And what a journey! Glass ceiling and windows look out upon the most incredible fauna and flora. Clicking camera lenses was the only sound for a while before the sun came down and the food trolleys came out. Travelling on this train is like taking a flight. The stewards and stewardesses offer refreshments, sell its,s off a collapsible cart and make regular announcements. In fact, on our return trip, they even did a fashion show of alpaca work garments to entertain passengers! We chatted away with our neighbors. Traveling in small towns, we tend to bump into the same people. In Peru, we met some people so many times and at such varied locations, like restaurants, the top of the mountain, in a church, even at the airport as we were headed out, we felt like locals!
Aguas Calientes station is like Grand Central station. Its crowded, full of people and souvenir shops and hotel reps picking up guests. We stayed at Sumaq, nestled at the foot of the town, right by the babbling, sacred river. We felt like royalty with a welcome drink and refreshments and meal included in our package. Our pre-climb massage was not up to par even though the spa atmosphere is relaxing. Our guide had asked us to be ready by 5.30am so we turned in early. Luckily, I had stayed away from the coca leaves so got a decent night's rest.
By the time we got to the bus line, it was snaking up the road and away from the stop. Even before the sun peeked over the mountain tops, Machu Picchu enthusiasts stood ready for the challenge. We joined the excited throng. The buses go every ten minutes or so in both directions so it's not a problem. But if you plan to climb one of the two peaks, you want to try and get to the base as early as possible. We realized there is a hotel, Belmond Sanctuary Lodge, at the base and if we had to do it again, we would have stayed there. It's a great head start. Our guide was right, climbing upto Machu Picchu city is not as difficult as climbing the ramparts of Ollantaytambo. But we signed up to be a part of the allotted four hundred to climb Machu Picchu mountain between 9 and 10am. Though it higher than Huayna Picchu peak, it is considered to be less strenuous. In deference to my physiological condition, we picked the easier mountain! Famous last words.
Built between 1450 and 1460, Machu Picchu lies 2430 meters above the sea. It is the most famous Inca landmark and was home of King Pachacuti. The Spanish could not find the city giving it the famous moniker, 'lost city of the incas.' A lecturer from Yale, Hiram Bingham, rediscovered the city in 1911. The three main structures in the city are the Temple of the sun, the room with three windows and the ritual stone of Intihuatana. The Inca were so precise, they had stones placed in front of windows that were split in half exactly during the winter solstice making the instrument or place tie up the sun where inti is sun, data is to tie up and na is tool or place. Machu Picchu is swarming with people so I shudder to think how crowded it must be on that day with tourists wanting to see this scientific marvel. Another area has a similar stone for the equinox. There an open area known as the condor stone where a birds eye view shows how the Incas carved the stones to look like a condor. There was a definite hierarchy in how they lived. The royal enclosure has fountains and direct access to the temple of the sun. The commoners lived in smaller enclosures. Some of these are two-storeyed with families living in the cooler area below and grains stored on the second level. An amusing feature is spotting the gardeners or Llamas chomping grass, thus ensuring the lawns are always well-manicured.
Since ours was a quick trip, we did the hike on the same day. Ideally an extra day would benefit. That way people affected by the altitude can adjust one more day in Cusco and get to the Machu Picchu base a day early for a viewing of the city the day before. The trek can then be done the next day, after a night's rest. We started out well enough. It's not easy but we plodded along, stopping frequently to rest, marvel at the abundant vegetation and catch glimpses of the city nestled in the 'valley' below. The day started out cool but we kept peeling layers as we climbed. Sipping water, placing one foot in front of the next and not thinking behind that, we ascended. "Its amazing up there.' 'Keep at it.' 'Almost half way up.' all kinds of encouragement came our way from people headed down. Knotty half way? I was shocked. I felt we must be almost at the summit. I groaned at that one. Somewhere halfway up. we came across two french girls having a snack. 'Mais vee deecided vee won't make it before twelve so we're turning back.' That's when we realized we need to make it up by noon or the entrance gate shuts in our face. And we still had a long way to go. We split up. My friend, younger, fitter, ventured on his own. I decided to brave it up as much as I can and if I made it great, if I don't at least I tried. And if I meet my friend coming down, I turn around and give up my dream.
On hands and knees, I crawled. Pulling myself up rock step by rock step.My backpack felt weighted down with stones. My camera had its stranglehold on my neck but I persevered.
'Almost there now. Just another thirty minutes, Don't give up.' Half an hour of torture still to come. I was in despair. I puffed at my inhaler, hoping it would release some adrenaline to keep my feet moving. I panted, I gasped. I ached, I continued.
And then I met my friend. 'Wow, you almost made it. But the gate just closed.' Disappointment whooshed through my body. And then I met Raoul. The ranger. I begged him to let me go just a bit higher so I can at least see the view even if I cannot summit. I have no idea what he saw in me. Or if an Inca God looked down and blessed me that day. Raol took pity it on me. We abandoned my backpack into the safe hands of my friend and camera into, Raol took my hand an led me overstep of the way to the top of the mountain. With tears in my eyes, I rejoiced as I looked down as the city.
There is something magical about sitting on a rock or standing and drinking in the majestic view. I felt an energetic presence sweep me into an embrace. With awe and respect I took one long, last gaze before placing my hands in Raol's and beginning the long descent. And he helped me every step of the way. Even going down, at every turn we thought we'd reached and then be faced with another steep slope. My aching quads and hamstrings are testament to the effort required in making what I thought was the impossible, possible.
And we had a long journey ahead; bus to Aguas Calientes, Perurail to Ollantaytambo and car to Cusco. All I wanted was a steaming hot soak in a bath tub and a magnum of champagne, chased by many pisco sours. A night at the Belmond or even Sumaq would have been ideal. I thought of the luxury train we'd noticed at the station. The Hiram Bingham is an extravagance on wheels. If we were on that train, we'd be treated to foot soaks, champagne and possibly a back rub!! Something to keep in mind for people who like to travel in style. In the meantime, we suffered through a clown dressed as a soccer mascot, stewards and stewardesses parading in alpaca shawls and cardigans while exchanging trekking adventures with other tired passengers.
As we took off from Cusco, I strained to see if I could catch a fleeting glimpse of this incredible city. But there's no hint those mountains protect this architectural marvel. Instead we landed at Lima for a quick drive in Centro Lima to admire 52 cathedrals, more squares and beautiful but crumbling balconies. Then a spin around the modern high rises of Miraflores where a mall cut out of cliffs gazes out at the unending Pacific ocean. A walkabout in the bohemian suburbs of Barraco ended with a Peruvian sunset at Cala while downing more Pisco sours.
And then it was midnight of the fourth day. Time for our flight to reality. As Latam lifted us into the skies, I relaxed. The tough one's off my bucket list.
The beauty of living in New York allows for the luxury of direct flights. Since the plan was to do a quick in and out, late one Wednesday night, we boarded Latam from JFK, fastened our seat belts and fell into a deep slumber, waking up in the southern hemisphere. There are many flights between Lima, the capital of Peru, and Cusco, the former capital of the Inca empire.
'Only three per passenger' said the sign on a basket of dried leaves inside the terminal at Cusco. I grabbed some and started munching. The paranoia of altitude sickness and exhortations of MP veterans to ensure I drink lots of coca tea was having its effect on me. In fact coca is available in all forms; there are coca sweets, gummy bears, chocolates, leaves and the tea is available at every hotel, shop and street corner. On an aside, I drank gallons of the stuff on my first day and while I didn't feel any altitude sickness, I was awake all night! I also tried tripping on fresh oxygen but don't think it made much of a difference. Cylinders are available at most hotels and all tourist vehicles. They don't really tell you so if you are feeling the altitude, make sure to ask.
Rumi Punku, a 3 star boutique hotel, was our base in Cusco. Tourism being the main economy of the city, there are apartments, boutique and budget hotels, hostels, three stars and four star hotels as well as luxury hotels such as Palacio del Inka and JW Marriot. Our hotel was cute but there are no elevators. We got a room on the third floor and after spending a day traversing up and down the ruins of the area, it was a trek getting to the room. There is a basic spa and I almost walked out when I saw it but I'm glad I didn't because the massage I got, assuaged the aches and pains of the trek up and down Machu Picchu mountain. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
A half day rest had us refreshed and ready for nourishment. We exited our hotels and gasped our way to Pacha papa. Enroute, we came across local women dressed as Incas, with their llamas. The first few had me excited but by the end of my trip, I realized like zebras on safari, they are everywhere. We took them for granted. Having said that, there's no denying their rosy cheeks and vivid colors of their outfits makes for a stunning picture. Juggling steep steps, narrow lanes and a parade of cars didn't prepare us for an open square where life seemed to come to a standstill. Pacha papa literally translating to Earth potato has a chilled vibe. Beside the wood burning oven, an Incan man played an Andean harp. We shared tables with other tourists and got tips on what to eat and where to go. Guinea pig and trout are the two must have dishes. We decided to stay light with a delicious quinoa soup. As we drove through the country later, we saw many farms growing this indigenous crop in an assortment of hues. Satiated, we were ready to hit the town with a private guide.
What followed was a journey into the bowels of civilization. We began with Sacsayhuaman, originally a fortress built by Inca King, Pachacuti. The massive boulders are testament to construction skill without the benefit of modern technology. In fact, all through, we see how Inca masons erected stone edifices without using mortar and simply by interlocking. They treated the stones like giant lego blocks. Pachacuti had planned Cusco such that it resembles a puma with Sacsayhuaman as the head. With a vivid imagination, you can almost see the puma from a higher vantage point. Another interesting stop is at Tambomachay, where the Inca people took a ritual bath before any ceremony. The water spouts from an opening in the hill. At the archaeological site of Q'enqo, it was fascinating to see the cave where the Inca prepared their dead. A sudden drop in temperature indicated they didn't need ice to keep the bodies in a rigor mortis condition. The stone where the bodies were laid, is ice-cold to touch.
After gallivanting in the outskirts, it's time to head back to visit popular sites of Cusco itself. The city is quaint with narrow, cobbled streets. I'm amazed at driving skills especially in the perimeter of the city centre area where most tourists congregate. In the central square is the Sagrada familia Cathedral, which was constructed by the Spanish conquerors using Inca labour. Though subjugated and prevented from following their rituals, the workers managed to evoke scenes within the cathedral to reflect local beliefs. These can especially be seen in some of the paintings in the cathedral. Another amazing example of the fusion of Inca and Spanish architecture is at Koricancha temple, in the heart of Cusco. An interesting detail shows the Spanish built their church on an Incan temple of the sun but the Spanish facade disintegrated to reveal the Incan layer. It is now an amalgamation of Spanish dominance and Incan history. The building is stunning and the views from the site look out over Cusco. Since we visited when the sun was preparing to set, the entire monument was bathed in a golden glow.
A quick rest in our hotel and we were set for another meal. 'Try Limo,' our guide and hotel receptionist told us. "It's the best restaurant in Cusco.' We made a reservation but when we got there, it turned out to be a fancy Japanese restaurant. We decided to give it a skip. When in Peru and all that! One of the tourists we'd encountered had suggested Cicciolina. Google maps took us all over the square and after much back and forth, we finally went down a side street and panted our way up to the second floor restaurant of an old colonial home. The building seems to have many interesting art galleries and cute eating places. I couldn't wait to have my first Pisco sour in Peru. But we were in for a disappointment. The minimum wait time was 45 minutes. We were exhausted and had an early morning departure the next day. They directed us to Baco but it seemed pretty dead. We had a nondescript meal at a restaurant where the waiter spoke no english and my friend was collapsing from altitude sickness. I did get a delicious Pisco, which was followed up by two cups of coca tea. Bad idea.
After a sleepless night, I was raring to go, at the first crack of dawn. We were headed out of Cusco and into the Sacred valley. Somewhere between Cusco and Pisac, we stopped at Awanacancha. Llamas, Alpacas, a Vicuna or two and some Guanacos milled in a sealed area. We fed grass to some of these camel like creatures but wondered how the beautiful woolen garments we've been spotting came from this filthy, matted wool. The answer comes soon enough. This centre is home to fourteen communities that farm wool and weave it into scarves, carpets, jackets, socks and other woolen accessories. The process of preparing the wool is painstaking. Natural, organic colors are coaxed with the help of a parasite found on local cacti, some pee and other ingredients.
Pisac is a fine example of terrace cultivation. Sitting on the grassy patches and surrounded by hills, is a meditative experience. The Pisac market is a tourist magnet but we managed to find delicious empanadas to stave off hunger pangs. After a long, meandering drive alongside the sacred river also known as Urubamba or Vilcamayo, we headed to Ollantaytambo. Along the way we saw a variety of autorickshaw like vehicles reminding us of Asian countries. Some of them sported a Bajaj logo. The company is literally climbing heights! The royal estate of King Pachakuti had me gasping. By the time I got to the top, all I could do was slump by the temple of Pachamama or Earth Goddess. The mountain across had caves that served as granaries. I had to marvel at the fitness of the Incas who climbed up and down these steep slopes and even stored their grain so high. The terraces for cultivation dominate the central area with a route from there that goes direct into Pisac town. We took the 'non vertigo' path back to the bottom, which was longer, winding and at times quite rough. My antenna went up dreading the club to Machu Picchu the next day but our guide assured me this climb was tougher.
The town itself is picturesque. The entire street is paved in keeping with the way it looked during Inca times. Driving on the road is like accupressure on steroids. The vistadome train to Aguas Calientes, at the base of Machu Picchu, leaves from this town. The process is impressively streamlined. I guess this is possibly the highest source of tourist revenue. The bathroom at the station is squeaky clean, the process simple so that even before the train steamed into the station, our documents had been whetted and we were good to go. People swooped into the compartment, brooms in hand, as soon as the passengers disembarked. A quick clean and the train was set to carry another load back up the mountains. And what a journey! Glass ceiling and windows look out upon the most incredible fauna and flora. Clicking camera lenses was the only sound for a while before the sun came down and the food trolleys came out. Travelling on this train is like taking a flight. The stewards and stewardesses offer refreshments, sell its,s off a collapsible cart and make regular announcements. In fact, on our return trip, they even did a fashion show of alpaca work garments to entertain passengers! We chatted away with our neighbors. Traveling in small towns, we tend to bump into the same people. In Peru, we met some people so many times and at such varied locations, like restaurants, the top of the mountain, in a church, even at the airport as we were headed out, we felt like locals!
Aguas Calientes station is like Grand Central station. Its crowded, full of people and souvenir shops and hotel reps picking up guests. We stayed at Sumaq, nestled at the foot of the town, right by the babbling, sacred river. We felt like royalty with a welcome drink and refreshments and meal included in our package. Our pre-climb massage was not up to par even though the spa atmosphere is relaxing. Our guide had asked us to be ready by 5.30am so we turned in early. Luckily, I had stayed away from the coca leaves so got a decent night's rest.
By the time we got to the bus line, it was snaking up the road and away from the stop. Even before the sun peeked over the mountain tops, Machu Picchu enthusiasts stood ready for the challenge. We joined the excited throng. The buses go every ten minutes or so in both directions so it's not a problem. But if you plan to climb one of the two peaks, you want to try and get to the base as early as possible. We realized there is a hotel, Belmond Sanctuary Lodge, at the base and if we had to do it again, we would have stayed there. It's a great head start. Our guide was right, climbing upto Machu Picchu city is not as difficult as climbing the ramparts of Ollantaytambo. But we signed up to be a part of the allotted four hundred to climb Machu Picchu mountain between 9 and 10am. Though it higher than Huayna Picchu peak, it is considered to be less strenuous. In deference to my physiological condition, we picked the easier mountain! Famous last words.
Built between 1450 and 1460, Machu Picchu lies 2430 meters above the sea. It is the most famous Inca landmark and was home of King Pachacuti. The Spanish could not find the city giving it the famous moniker, 'lost city of the incas.' A lecturer from Yale, Hiram Bingham, rediscovered the city in 1911. The three main structures in the city are the Temple of the sun, the room with three windows and the ritual stone of Intihuatana. The Inca were so precise, they had stones placed in front of windows that were split in half exactly during the winter solstice making the instrument or place tie up the sun where inti is sun, data is to tie up and na is tool or place. Machu Picchu is swarming with people so I shudder to think how crowded it must be on that day with tourists wanting to see this scientific marvel. Another area has a similar stone for the equinox. There an open area known as the condor stone where a birds eye view shows how the Incas carved the stones to look like a condor. There was a definite hierarchy in how they lived. The royal enclosure has fountains and direct access to the temple of the sun. The commoners lived in smaller enclosures. Some of these are two-storeyed with families living in the cooler area below and grains stored on the second level. An amusing feature is spotting the gardeners or Llamas chomping grass, thus ensuring the lawns are always well-manicured.
Since ours was a quick trip, we did the hike on the same day. Ideally an extra day would benefit. That way people affected by the altitude can adjust one more day in Cusco and get to the Machu Picchu base a day early for a viewing of the city the day before. The trek can then be done the next day, after a night's rest. We started out well enough. It's not easy but we plodded along, stopping frequently to rest, marvel at the abundant vegetation and catch glimpses of the city nestled in the 'valley' below. The day started out cool but we kept peeling layers as we climbed. Sipping water, placing one foot in front of the next and not thinking behind that, we ascended. "Its amazing up there.' 'Keep at it.' 'Almost half way up.' all kinds of encouragement came our way from people headed down. Knotty half way? I was shocked. I felt we must be almost at the summit. I groaned at that one. Somewhere halfway up. we came across two french girls having a snack. 'Mais vee deecided vee won't make it before twelve so we're turning back.' That's when we realized we need to make it up by noon or the entrance gate shuts in our face. And we still had a long way to go. We split up. My friend, younger, fitter, ventured on his own. I decided to brave it up as much as I can and if I made it great, if I don't at least I tried. And if I meet my friend coming down, I turn around and give up my dream.
On hands and knees, I crawled. Pulling myself up rock step by rock step.My backpack felt weighted down with stones. My camera had its stranglehold on my neck but I persevered.
'Almost there now. Just another thirty minutes, Don't give up.' Half an hour of torture still to come. I was in despair. I puffed at my inhaler, hoping it would release some adrenaline to keep my feet moving. I panted, I gasped. I ached, I continued.
And then I met my friend. 'Wow, you almost made it. But the gate just closed.' Disappointment whooshed through my body. And then I met Raoul. The ranger. I begged him to let me go just a bit higher so I can at least see the view even if I cannot summit. I have no idea what he saw in me. Or if an Inca God looked down and blessed me that day. Raol took pity it on me. We abandoned my backpack into the safe hands of my friend and camera into, Raol took my hand an led me overstep of the way to the top of the mountain. With tears in my eyes, I rejoiced as I looked down as the city.
There is something magical about sitting on a rock or standing and drinking in the majestic view. I felt an energetic presence sweep me into an embrace. With awe and respect I took one long, last gaze before placing my hands in Raol's and beginning the long descent. And he helped me every step of the way. Even going down, at every turn we thought we'd reached and then be faced with another steep slope. My aching quads and hamstrings are testament to the effort required in making what I thought was the impossible, possible.
And we had a long journey ahead; bus to Aguas Calientes, Perurail to Ollantaytambo and car to Cusco. All I wanted was a steaming hot soak in a bath tub and a magnum of champagne, chased by many pisco sours. A night at the Belmond or even Sumaq would have been ideal. I thought of the luxury train we'd noticed at the station. The Hiram Bingham is an extravagance on wheels. If we were on that train, we'd be treated to foot soaks, champagne and possibly a back rub!! Something to keep in mind for people who like to travel in style. In the meantime, we suffered through a clown dressed as a soccer mascot, stewards and stewardesses parading in alpaca shawls and cardigans while exchanging trekking adventures with other tired passengers.
As we took off from Cusco, I strained to see if I could catch a fleeting glimpse of this incredible city. But there's no hint those mountains protect this architectural marvel. Instead we landed at Lima for a quick drive in Centro Lima to admire 52 cathedrals, more squares and beautiful but crumbling balconies. Then a spin around the modern high rises of Miraflores where a mall cut out of cliffs gazes out at the unending Pacific ocean. A walkabout in the bohemian suburbs of Barraco ended with a Peruvian sunset at Cala while downing more Pisco sours.
And then it was midnight of the fourth day. Time for our flight to reality. As Latam lifted us into the skies, I relaxed. The tough one's off my bucket list.
