Getting Into Hot Water...

Between meeting the train station shuttle at seven and Leandra now being nauseated by coffee and cuy, breakfast was no more than bread, cheese, jam, orange juice and tea. But, as another sunrise cascaded over hazy Cusco, we were nibbling with excitement. Today, we would travel the infamous tracks to Aguas Calientes--the bubbling burg protected by steep walls of rock and jungle but constantly under attack by foreign invaders. Taking one of two routes for tourists, the Inca Trail or Peru Rail, these legions are welcomed with open arms--and hands--the moment they arrive. But first, we had to check out of Loki and hobble our backpacks down the cobbles to go to the terminal...





It's not hard to imagine the scene: hundreds of giddy globe-trotters, all of us looking so out of place in the Andes, that everyone looks normal. Colorful backpacks are clipping and zipping, smiles and anticipation saturate the crisp morning air, cameras and batteries being double checked, bottles and snacks being re-packed, and passports and tickets are are being patted or clutched in every pocket or palm. Hard-to-hear guides gesticulate as their groups gabble in gaggles toward the proper platform. Being just a pair, we found our chairs and clicked some classic, silly tourist pictures--the mundane things that only seem amazing because of the circumstances: "Here is the side of the train. Here is the window. Here we are on the train...." But, there was that disembarking lurch that all trains make, and we crept out of the station. We got great views during a series of reversing switchbacks that lifts the train to the rim of the bowl that holds Cusco. Then, with all the noise and jostling of a locomotive, we were rolling down a small valley that follows a tributary to the Sacred Valley...





At first, a flat fertile plain spread from the tracks before tilting up into the mountains. The sparkling creek, still irrigating the ancient farms, soon gathered strength as the cliffs closed in, offering more melt water. Trickles became ripples and eventually rapids as the snowcapped peaks peek-a-booed between the greening precipices. At some point, the train required two more switchbacks to scrape down the tapering ravine; it would come to a screechy exhaust-spewing stop, a trainman would run past on the gravel to wrench the rail switch that changes the track, then jump back aboard as the train reversed direction and the diesel engine and the sound of steel wheels return. The four hour downhill chug to Aguas Calientes was halfway done when we spilled out of the side gorge and forged across a bridge over the Urubamba...






Since leaving Lima, the land has been remarkably barren. Even areas with water--Paracas on the Pacific, settlements on the Rio Chili and Rio Colca, towns along Titicaca, the valley of La Paz--were scrubby at best. But now, heading down the Amazon's headwaters, the hardy altiplano vegetation begins to mix with succulent tropical jungle. Surprisingly, other than the seaside stretch from Lima to Arequipa, Aguas Calientes is our lowest level--about 1750 meters (5740 feet). Three-quarters way, the train delayed so porters and trekkers could take a short-cut to the Inca Trail, bouncing across a rope bridge that swung over the rocky river. Thirty minutes later we slowed into the "Machu Picchu Pueblo" depot. Having no room reserved and being expert tourists, we swept through the rubber-necking bewildered masses, sluicing through the souvenir market maze, and got a great modern room with endless hot water, bathtub, balcony and in both directions? A raging river view...





Unlike the unlucky "one-day-ers", we had two, so we didn't have to hustle from train to shuttle for a furious three hour tour--when Machu Picchu looks like an angry anthill of activity. Instead, we would revel in relaxation and wait until dawn, when misty silence showers the sunrise solitude long before the midday mobs arrive on the Cusco choo-choo. Pachacutec, the legendary Inca leader who unified and expanded the empire, greeted us in this cozy town's Plaza de Armas, which sits with all the civic basics--church, police, post office, school--at the bottom of a few steep pedestrian streets teeming with restaurants, bars and shops. After lunch, looking over the comers and goers in the square, we strolled the town...





It was odd knowing that a shoe-in for the New Seven World Wonders hid above us, on one of the green granite spires that wore a cloudy crown. But, we found other little treasures in town, like souvenirs and schoolchildren. We returned to our room--Leandra warmed in a long bath while I chilled on the balcony as the Urubamba's continuous class V+ rapid rumbled across the street-- before we hoofed the hill to the hot springs and a hidden waterfall. Halfway up, we scouted out the sultry creek from one of several small spans. A planked walkway lead to the steaming pools filled with worn out walkers from the Inca Trail. We found the secret path leading up...





As signs of mankind disappeared behind us, an inchworm got defensive as our camera moved in for a closer look. Surrounded by green serenity, we climbed to the white noise of falling water. Then, we saw it. Hopping wet rocks, ducking under succulent branches, watching every muddy step, we crept to the edge of the spray. Still not knowing where Machu Picchu hid, we stood and stared at the dramatic landscape growing and eroding before our eyes. Then, we slowly scrambled back down and, like explorers splitting the fronds to find some unknown tribe, crept back to civilization...






Thinking ahead, we hit the hotel again to organize for an unforgettable tomorrow. Ready, we decided to head down the tracks where the town and train disappear, and only local laborers reside and ride. Striding back on the street between the river and our room, we come around the corner to find the non-tourist train exchanging crews of Peru's blue-collar class, who travel cheaper but work harder to make visitors happier. Lurking on a ledge is a devilish looking dog--a classic Peruvian Hairless whose cuteness is diminished by some flash-induced red-eye. And then, we went to wet our whistles for awhile and eventually find some food before turning in early...





Thanks to booming tourism, Aguas Calientes has ballooned from a meager village with a train station into a hip hostel-packed town--everywhere you can see old buildings being retrofitted into bars, internet cafes, hotels, whatever--anything to entice the throngs of sole-waving foreigners. As in Paracas, establishments competed for business by offering an in-your-face visible and incessantly vocal variety of specials: "Free pisco sours" or "Happy hour all night!" or "Two for one drinks!" Soon we realized that the higher we hiked the better the deals: "Free cerveza and a pisco sour!" and "All day happy hour!" and "Three for one drinks!" By the time we reached the top of town it was "Free beer, pisco sours, and nachos with guacamole!" or "Four for one drinks!" or "Happy hour forever!" Well, with a learning curve as steep as the streets, we managed to get our money's worth. Our last stop was a hostel-cyber-cafe-restaurant-bar called...I can't remember...but to my shock, they had a dart board--one labeled with the local beer. Not many people would care about saying, "I played darts at Machu Picchu." But, I do.

After dinner, we stepped out under the stars on the softly lit street, kind of quietly. We locked arms at the elbow and walked home as our feet slapped on the steep slope. We were silently excited--we felt healthy again, we'd been finding adventure and avoiding adversity, and tomorrow we would march around one of Man and Mother Earth's most amazing places, the mystic grounds of Machu Picchu...
Machu Picchu Hide-n-Seek Contest!!! Everybody knows the "classic" Machu Picchu picture--the one that overlooks the ruins and has the familiar mountain peak in the background. Five of the photos in this post have this image hiding somewhere inside. Can you find them all? Leandra says it's too difficult, so here's some hints...

The three easiest ones to find are in consecutive pictures...
The other two are very difficult--you might need to find a way to zoom in--but Leandra is close by to both of them...

If you think you find them all, describe the five photos, and put your answers in the comments or email them to me. The winner gets to be in our next "Contest Winner" blog and our 2006 Frommer's Peru guidebook with all our notes and autographed!