Time to Travel: Along jungle paths, beside wild rivers and through forgotten temples

The ruins of the Sacred Valley, and above all the ‘lost’ Inca city of Machu Picchu itself had a lot to live up to. I had wanted to visit them ever since I read about them at the age of around 10 – and the expectations raised by my vivid childhood imagination were so immense, I was afraid I would be bitterly disappointed. The planning of our Machu Picchu trip really did start with disappointment – a few months ago when we realised there was no way we would be able to do the ‘real’ Inca Trail hike up to the mountain citadel. Apart from the fact that you have to book months in advance, it is also horrendously expensive and thus completely off the cards for us. And so we arrived in Cusco with the aim of finding an affordable way to experience the magic of the ancient ruins and the surrounding mountains without just joining the hordes of snap-happy day-trippers. Cusco, or Qosq’o as it is spelt in the original Quechua language, was much as we had expected. The continent’s oldest inhabited city, Cusco was once the heart of the mighty Inca Empire, and today it has developed into the epicentre of Peruvian tourism. Despite the fact that it is overrun by tourists from all corners of the globe, the city still manages to impress: massive Inca-build walls are incorporated into elegant colonial-style cathedrals, narrow cobblestone alleys connect sunbathed plazas where traditionally dressed locals mingle with tourist touts. We enjoyed a couple of sunny days wandering the streets and plazas in search for the best option for our trip to Machu Picchu, spending our nights in a quaint little hostel called Hospedaje Mágico, where a friendly old dog wearing a Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt guarded the door, the receptionist was perpetually grinning and the toilets contained entertaining warnings (see below).

'Interesting' sign in our hostel in Cusco...has this happened often enough that they feel they need a sign??

Sunny Plaza de Armas in Cusco

After much deliberation we finally decided to take what is called an ‘Inca Jungle Tour’ through the Sacred Valley up to Machu Picchu. Four days and three nights, including mountain biking, hiking, zip-lining, entrance to Machu Picchu itself, and train tickets back through the valley, all for a relatively reasonable price. The night before we were set to leave, we decided to catch up with a couple we had previously met in Arequipa for some dinner and drinks.....one thing led to another, and as a result, we left early the next morning on the mini-bus a little the worse for wear J The drive through the Sacred Valley, along the steep, winding road did little to help our condition – and the views were shrouded behind a thick wall of rain and mist. To make matters worse, our driver just kept driving, and driving, and driving. We kept passing other tour groups on their mountain bikes, and started wondering if we were ever going to join them on the road. According to our itinerary, we were to start riding at Abra Málaga above 4000m and continue down to Santa Maria - more than 2000m further down the valley. In reality, we actually started riding at below 2000m above sea level, and as a result the ride only lasted about an hour, and quite a lot of it was uphill. The bikes were also pretty dodgy, and we arrived in Santa Maria wet and quite disappointed. This was made worse by the fact that we arrived at our hostel around 2pm, and were then told that we had the rest of the afternoon ‘free’. In a town of around 100ppl on the side of the main road – there was not a lot to do. We used the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep, and hoped the next day would be better.

Cycling in the rain to Santa Maria

And luckily, it was! We started off hiking along the banks of the wild Urubamba River, fascinated by its ferocious power (one of the advantages of visiting in the wet season – the rivers are just amazing!) and then started climbing up the side of the valley, through thick jungle along narrow paths, past little villages housing cheeky monkeys and other curious creatures – including by far our favourite; Albert an inquisitive pacarana ( I had never heard of the animal before – it looks a little like a cross between a wombat and a quoll, but is actually a rodent). Along the way our guide Carlos told us about different types of traditional food and drink from the area, we got to sample chicha (a sort of weak maize beer) and some snake schnapps (sugarcane rum with a pickled snake in it – an acquired taste.... J ) and painted our faces with achiote, a fruit full of red seeds that, when squashed, make a rich ochre colour prefect for war-paint.

Very naughty little monkey who liked to steal and break anything you didn't hold onto tight

Tiny little old man monkey - Tamarin Monkey

Carlos telling us about local food and drink

Carlos sampling the snake schnapps

Lovely little pacarana Albert (she was actually a girl....not sure how she got that name!). Mic wants one now!

We continued climbing up the valley, until, as the rain cleared and the sun made its first appearance, we were rewarded with breathtaking views of the river snaking along the valley below us. We balanced along a narrow path high above the river, taking in the view, before climbing down a series of incredibly steep stone steps towards the valley floor. Hugging the raging river, we followed its course further up stream, being forced closer and closer to its crumbling banks as the valley got narrower and narrower. Finally we arrived at a point where the bank on our side of the river turned into a cliff – the end of the road. Time to cross the river - but how? The answer was an improvised pulley system, a bit like a flying fox, but with a little wooden platform attached to carry passengers across the ravine two or three at a time. It was an exhilarating experience, standing on the swaying little platform more than 100m above the churning water below, listening to the pulley rattling along the cable and hoping Peruvian maintenance is better than it is reported to be J

View down on the roaring river

Narrow, steep steps going back down into the valley

The narrow path along the mountain

Bananas!

This is how we crossed the gorge

Over they go!

Crossing the river via 'manpower'

We made it across before the sun sank swiftly behind the high peaks, and we rewarded a short hike later by a long soak in the beautiful hot springs on the edge of the small village of Santa Teresa. Relaxed by the warm thermal waters and a few drinks with our cheeky Chilean tour-mates, we went to bed tired and happy and looking forward to the next day of our trip.

Thermal pools at Santa Teresa - heaven!

It dawned warm and sunny – perfect for what half of the group had planned; zip-lining through the tree tops (for my Aussie friends, zip-lining is just another word for riding on a flying fox – a new word for me too!). While Mic headed off to zip down a few slopes (it was too expensive for us to both go), I set off with the second part of the group to walk along the river to Hidroelectrica, the start of the Machu Picchu train line, and the site of a very impressive hydro-electric project – making use of all that power in the raging river. The plant is still being built, and some of the man-made waterfalls being created have to be seen to be believed!

Huge man-made waterfall - the river is re-directed through the mountain to increase the height and rate of the water's descent and thus increase the energy that can be won from it

The group was reunited in Hidroelectrica and from there we headed off on the final leg of our journey, walking along the railway line up the valley to Aguas Calientes, a small, very touristy town at the base of Machu Picchu Mountain (which is trying very hard to call itself Machu Picchu Village –without much success). We balanced on wooden sleepers and crossed rusty bridges, following the tracks as they followed the curving course of the river around the base of the cone-shaped mountain, craning our necks for a few glimpses of the ancient ruins perched on the peak.

Walking along the tracks from Hidroelectica to Aguas Calientes

Walking through the valley - on the mountain to the right is Machu Picchu!

Crossing a rusty railroad bridge

Not much space for the train between the river and the cliff

But our curiosity would have to be kept in check until the next morning, when we awoke at 4am to hike up the more than 2000 steps to the summit. Or that was the plan. In the end it was raining so hard that we succumbed to our weaker side and forked out US 9.50 for the bus up J Our arrival in the ancient city was much less of a highlight than I had imagined. Blinded by mist and surrounded by a pack of wet, cranky tourists, we trudged through the ruins behind a (very bad!) guide for an hour. Then, damp and dejected, we sat in a small shelter hoping against hope that the weather would clear up. When the rain finally eased, we decided to climb up to the Sun Gate Intipunku in the hope of getting above the mist (we unfortunately found out too late that our entry ticket did not include access to Waynapicchu (also called Huayna Picchu) and Montaña Machu Picchu, the two mountains flanking the city and providing the picture-postcard photo-ops). So up we climbed, slowly warming up and peeling off our layers of wet-weather-gear as the sun started winning its war with the fog.

Shrouded in fog - our first view of the ancient Inca city

By the time we reached the top, the fog had become patchy, allowing fleeting glimpses of the maze of ruins laid out at our feet. A few hours later, the sun had well and truly won, and the clouds retreated until they were barely covering the peaks. And then the wow-effect I had been expecting finally hit. The ‘lost’ city emerged from the fog and presented itself in all its glory. A maze of grey granite walls, staircases, terraces and temples hugs the narrow saddle of the peak. Even higher jungle-covered mountains provide a majestic backdrop for the city’s emerald green terraced slopes, which are built up to the very edge of the precipice plummeting straight down to the turbulent Urubamba River far below. We spent several hours perched up on our high vantage point watching the sun and shadow play across the ruins, taking endless pictures and soaking up the atmosphere before climbing back down to explore the narrow passages and steep stairways that had remained hidden from us in the morning fog. And although the ruins themselves are also intriguing from close at hand, I must admit for me the view of the site from afar was the most impressive. The towering mountains, the sheer cliffs and the way the terraces beetle on the very edge of the abyss – in my opinion, the ruins’ surroundings are what make them a world-wonder. The ancient city perched on top of the world. We left at the end of the day feeling like we had spent the day above the clouds, in a different universe. Regardless of the hordes of tourists, the place really does retain its other-worldly atmosphere, and despite my initial disappointment, it certainly lived up to my expectations.

Glimpses through the fog

First view from the Sun Gate without fog!

Walking back down from the Sun Gate

The ruins in the warm sun

The devil's associate was also along for the ride to the lost city :)

Picture prefect - the famous view over the ruins, with sun shining directly on the main plaza

Unfortunately, not everything about the trip lived up to our expectations. In addition to the shorter-than-promised bike ride and the lack of the mountain access in our entry tickets, it seems that our tour agency also neglected to book our return train tickets. This meant that instead of the expected 2-hour train ride back to Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley and short mini-bus ride back to Cusco, we got a 30-minute train ride back the way we had walked to Hidroelectrica, a two-hour wait and then a 7-hour mini-bus ride which got us back to Cusco at 12.30 at night. Quite apart from the price difference between what we paid for and what we got, we were bitterly disappointed about not being able to do the train ride, which we had heard was extremely scenic. We confronted the tour company to ask for our money back the next day and did manage to get a partial refund, but left the area with a bitter aftertaste – the place may be beautiful, but as with most of the world’s major tourist attractions, it is populated by money-grabbing opportunists. Although it did not ruin our Machu Picchu experience, it certainly tainted it slightly – time to head for less populated territory!