Writings By Location| Whirlwind Tour of Machu Picchu | 1 | 2 | 3 |
We finally arrived at the town of Aguas Calientes, at the base of Machu Picchu. We trucked off the train and took a bus up to the top, where we were greeted by a light drizzle. We put on our raincoats and checked our baggage at the luggage counter, while waiting for Edgar, our guide. Fortunately, the rain let up just as quickly as it started, and the sun managed to make its way past the clouds for most of the afternoon.
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| Machu Picchu |
The actual site of Machu Picchu is hard to describe in words. It easily compares in size and impressiveness with other ruins we've seen in Mexico or Guatemala. The architecture was noticeably different, as the Incans were much more meticulous with their building, smoothing and bevelling all rocks, and fitting them together tongue-and-groove style instead of using mortar of any kind. And while Tikal, for instance, was much larger, it was in the middle of a flat jungle. This, however, was three thousand meters up on astoundingly steep hills, and miles away from the nearest quarry. When considering the terrain, Machu Picchu clearly wins hands-down for most awe-inspiring pre-Columbian architecture.
Edgar was a good guide: his English was excellent, he answered questions well, and had a lively sense of humor. He spent about three hours walking us around the major points of interest, which included terraced landscapes, residences, water canals, and roaming llamas.
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| Intimidating Andes |
At 3:30, shortly after the tour ended, the park underwent a mass exodus, when everyone left to catch the train back. We, however, were smart enough to arrange to stay overnight in the town, giving us the entire archaeological site almost entirely to ourselves for a couple more hours. We were particularly eager to climb the steep pinnacle Huanay Picchu, but they only let people start the climb earlier in the day. Since we've got the extra day to kill, we figure we'll attempt this in the morning, if we're up to it.
After we'd seen about all we could handle, and we both felt the urge to go to the bathroom was urgent enough, we went out and took the bus back to town. An overly-energetic indigenous boy greeted us as we got on the bus, then raced down the stairs cutting through the middle of the hill, shrieking some Quechua phrase to us as we passed him on each switchback. The entertainment was contagious, and soon, everyone on the bus would stop talking as we rounded a corner, and start looking for the boy. When the bus finally reached the bottom of the hill, he climbed aboard and was met with a round of applause...and the requisite tips, but in this case, I couldn't say it wasn't well-earned.
