30 hrs in Aguas Calientes

OH my! We made it to Aguas Calientes (the small village at the base of Machu Picchu) last night. I would love to post pics of our trek over the past week but the internet connection is not wide enough here, ya know, band width ´n such. Seriously, I just waited twenty minutes to upload ONE picture--not happening. Hopefully there will be time to post some pics tomorrow before we leave for Lima (We are taking the train out of Aguas in about five hrs, I´ll have to write about Machu Picchu another time).

The gist of the past week: We left Cusco at 6am, four hr drive to a small village called, Cachora. There, we met up with Alfredo, the useless guide, Chino, the chef, Florantino, the leader of the pack (the pack being two guys that un/packed the mules and tended to other duties, and our new friend, Keeko, he is the guy who we met in Sicuani. After about an hour of eating and organizing the gear, we took off on the trail to Choquequirao. Two days later, we arrived at the largest mountaintop city of the great Inca Empire. An immediate sense of reverence was felt upon entering the high andean city. No tourists, no guides, no nothing; only an occasional flock of bright green birds shreiked through the sky disrupting the quiet that lay over the city. It felt like a ghost town. It felt like the city´s inhabitants split in serious haste leaving nothing but a curse on those who followed. It was a bit eerie, if I haven´t gotten that across yet. Most of the trails were unmarked and had to be explored, the exploring we did as kids in uncharted forest (remember, Jayden and others). Instead of uncovering salamanders and fishing holes, we came upon homes, garden terraces, and bathing pools. We spent the remains of the afternoon exploring what we could and then retired to our campsite on Choquequirao´s hillside. We took up more exploring at sunrise and moved on from the ruins at about 12 noon.

What followed was what felt like an eternal decent. A literal falling from grace as we dropped down the backside of the lofty city. We took the trail down, down, down for two hrs, broke for lunch (my knees, my body couldn´t take anymore), and then climbed, climbed, climbed for about three hrs. Completely exhausted, we camped on a small farmer´s plot at the top of Choquequirao´s neighboring mountain, Maisal. We got there just in time to watch the sun drop behind the high shelf of snowcaps lining the western horizon. In a matter of minutes, the sky went from gray to rose to black, followed by a tremendous display of stars in every direction.

I think it was Ronan who explained that the Incans made constellations out of the dark patches in the sky, rather than the stars themselves. That makes total sense when looking at the sky from a Peruvian mountaintop. The milkyway and the stars are so bright that it is easier to pick out shapes of black--and there are far less black splotches than stars to keep track of. We star gazed and chatted with the polish couple also trekking through the Incan wilderness until we were too cold and in need of warming up with mate and soup complements of Chino & company.

The following day we continued our climb on Incan trails, passing old incan mines, climbing stone stairs laid by the Incan laborers, until we reached Victoria pass, somewhere around 14-15,000 ft above sea level. It is hard to describe the experience rounding the bend of that pass. First you gasp, and then you walk another ten feet and just laugh because it all seems too beautiful to believe--or perhaps it´s the lack of oxygen.

So that was the first three or four days. There are a couple more days of the trek to explain, but I have to leave it there. Each day deserves a complete chapter, but this is a blog, not a book. Besides, I can´t spend all my money on internet. There is still much to do over the next few weeks.

I know words are wordy and pictures are not, so pictures you shall have! I hope...

hasta la pròxima,