Peru: Spanish Intensive and Cultural Immersion

I was out the door by 5 a.m.  I opted to walk; out of the canyon and into the hills to Machu Picchu.  A beautiful climb that I may have underestimated.   I walked a fast pace, my father´s pace, up steep stone steps for over an hour.  I was passed by no one, and I overtook a few breathless hikers.  The first 400 visitors per day at Machu Picchu receive free tickets to hike the tallest peak in the ruins, Huaynu Picchu.  Amongst the thousands that would visit today, I wanted desperately the opportunity to not only see Machu Picchu, but see it from its highest point.

The trail from the Canyon to Machu Picchu goes nearly straight up via hundreds of stone steps, and one must cross the bus road more than a few times in between stairwells.  As I heard each bus go by, I began to resent those on it.  I was dripping with sweat trying to make the first 400, while the masses were being shuttled the thousand feet that I was climbing.

When I arrived to the gate at 6:15 hundreds of people were already congregated outside the ticket office.  You could tell those who had hiked, and those who did not.  The hikers were drenched in sweat, the busers still had sheen from their conditioner in their hair.  I was exhausted

I didn´t make the first four hundred, and thus hiking the tall peak seemed out of reach.  When I got inside the gates, I strolled through one of the farming tiers and sat down to eat an orange.  Once I was finished, I heard a familiar voice.  ¨Hola!  Juan!  Amigo!  Que tal!¨ It was a Bolivian guy who  I had first chatted with at the hotsprings, then run into again the day previous as well. 

He told me he was the first in line, he started hiking at around 4am.  He hated the altitude, and while his wife and daughter planned to hike Huayna Picchu, it wasn´t for him.  In Spanish I told him how I had marched to try to be within the first four hundred, and without hesitation pulled out his ticket and asked me for mine.  With a counterfitters precision, he carefully peeled the staple off of his main ticket, and re applied the staple with the smaller Huayna Picchu ticket onto mine.  It was perfect. 

I was so happy, I expressed my gratitude and actually tried to give him a hug, but after the hike I was still a bit sweaty, so Ricardo tapped me on the shoulder and courteously moved away.  I thanked him again and again, and he went to rejoin his family.  My ticket read that I could climb Wayna Picchu at 10:00.

It was still quite early in the morning, and the city in the clouds was indeed just that.  I was told the fog would clear around ten or eleven, so I hiked away from the crowds for an hour to Intipunka, The Gate of the Sun.  The stone structure is set up so that a magnificent effect occurs once the sun peeks up from the mountains, though fog was still thick and it seemed unlikely.  Fortunately, Ricardo, one of the nicest people I have ever met, sat down next to me to chat for an hour. 

When I told him I was from near San Francisco, he cracked a little joke.  ¨Well… you are from the Golden Gate and here you are now at The Gate of the Sun.¨ In the course of our hour dialogue he made many statements of grandeur and truth, all with a humble, gentile sense of humor that made the morning worthwhile.  When the sun failed to shine through the gate, I bid him farewell, and started towards Huayna Picchu. 

 

Immediately almost-vertical steps rose up the side of the cliff face as if a stairwell into the clouds.  Everyone was immediately exhausted, and even in the first few minutes we were a sore-looking lot.  Huffing and panting, gasping for the guardrail.  It was an incredibly difficult climb.  After one hour of walking ancient, vertical steps, I made it to the top to see an Argentine with his shirt off waving his flag back and forth, screaming enthusiastically in Spanish.  The view from the top:

This was by far the best spot at the ruins.  Up so high, it afforded a bird´s eye view of the ruins, and panoramic views of the surrounding valley.  After spending at least a few minutes catching my breath, I headed back down, which was almost as difficult as the climb up.  I toured the main part of the city for awhile, and climbed back down the stone staircase into the valley. 

I was beyond exhausted when I finally reached town.  I collapsed at a table at the first cheap restaurant I saw, and had a four-course lunch for $5.  After the meal I received my backpack that I had stowed at my hotel, and caught the train out of Aguas Calientes for Ollaytaytambo. 

I wish I could reflect on some aspect of Machu Picchu that hasn´t already been beaten to death.  But I probably can´t.  The location is mystical and spectacular, the stonework of the city seems to have no modern equivalent, the city-planning seems genius, and the element that not much is known about the origins, or the abandonment of the city makes the site mysterious and intriguing.  It is a hiker´s paradise, and well-deserved wonder of the world. 

I leave you tonight with video of Peru´s rural countryside, the taxi ride from Ollaytaytambo to Cuzco.

Tags: 1, peru, travel blog macchu picchu, wayna picchu

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