My Ten Rules for Visiting Machu
Picchu
Machu Picchu! Famed
lost city of the Inca Empire nestled deep in the Peruvian mountains at an
altitude of around 7,972 feet above sea level: hidden from the outside world for centuries; patrimony
of humanity; mystical destination of hundreds of thousands of tourists from
around the world. Who could pass up an
opportunity to do this once in a lifetime visit - especially when colleagues
were willing to make most of the arrangements and all I had to do was pony up
the cash? So I signed up.
Rule Number 1: Don’t let others take decisions for you.
My ears should have perked up when the word ‘trek’ entered
into the plans. A guided trek along part
of the INCA trail could be had for just a few dollars more. “Oh, don’t worry” they said “this is the
LESSER trail. It will be GREAT!” You get
off the train (Yes, you heard me: train.
Nice, comfortable engine-drawn cushion-seated
coaches that wind gently along the Vilcanota River direct to the town of Aguas Calientes where you can get a bus
that will take you right to the ruins of the Lost City.) So the words “get off the train” should have
been a big heads up. “It’s only 6
miles!” they said. “It shouldn’t take
any more than 6 or 7 hours.”
Rule Number 2: Do the math.
They say that an average person walking on a treadmill can
easily cover a mile in less than 15 minutes.
So what is it about the trek into Machu Picchu that could possibly add a
bit more than 45 minutes to that one mile?
Hmmm. Could it have something to
do with the fact that the hike will be through the mountains? Could it be that the start of the walk will
be from a relatively low place in a valley, rising to a point 8,859 feet above
sea level before the final descent into the park? And, most importantly, there is that tricky
word “average.”
Rule Number 3: Be Honest with yourself.
When a group of younger colleagues – some as much as thirty
years younger – tell you that the trek should be a breeze, it is time for that
seldom practiced but necessary honest self-appraisal. OK, age might not be the exact challenge, but
it should be taken into consideration.
Those 30 or so extra pounds picked up over the years might be a thought as well. What about my recent history of being mostly
a desk-jockey back then, sitting day after day in front of a computer? Yes, I might have wanted to think about that. Long.
And hard…
Rule Number 4: Be prepared to buy postcards, because after
the first hour of uphill climb, you won’t be taking many photos.
The beginning of the trek was amazing: off the train and
across the Vicanota River on a foot bridge and the first sight of centuries old
Inca ruins and then onto the ‘Short’ Inca Trail. Note the italics. ‘Short’ is a very relative term. ‘Short’ should never be used when referring
to anything that is vertical by nature.
I am a pretty avid photographer.
But about halfway up the first major climb to the lower terrace walls of
the Winya Wayna ruins, any and all thought of stopping my slow, painful and seemingly
never-ending step after step momentum to bring my camera to my eye seemed to
fade away, along with my ability to breathe normally.
Rule Number 5: Ask before getting on the trail whether there
is any viable alternative to hiking all the way to the finish.
There isn’t.
Rule Number 6: (This is for those supportive colleagues
accompanying me on the trip) Don’t
bother trying to give smiling encouragement and helpful hints and advice about
proper hiking techniques and such trivia as how eating a lot of bananas
BEFORE going on the hike might have helped, especially to a heavily-breathing person
suffering alternating cramps in either leg whose only goal is to get to the **!$%ing end of the trek.
Just don’t.
Rule Number 7: Take
change.
I’m not talking about a change of clothing. Staggering a good 45 minutes behind the rest
of the group into the halfway resting point set high in the mountains, I
shuffled painfully over to the small concession stand where they sold a limited variety of cold drinks – all the while casting evil looks at our guide who was dancing
behind me, 'encouraging' me to hurry up so that everybody could get going on to the last stretch of the hike to the park. I made it to the concession stand, pointed to
a bottle of carbonated orangey stuff and a chocolate bar and was told that I
first had to go to the other side of the area to pay for it, then come back
with a chit to pick it up. I shuffled to
the cashier, who looked disdainfully at my proffered bill and told me that she
didn’t any change. I shuffled over to my
well-rested and anxious-to-get-back-on-the-trail colleagues to ask if anybody
had change, Then back to the cashier and
finally over to pick up my much-needed liquid and sugar fix. After five minutes of lying on a patch of
grass while trying to stretch out the cramps in my legs, the persistent
prancing around me of our guide got me to my feet to continue onto the last
stretch of the trail.
Rule Number 8: Leave
any sense of pride behind you.
I finally made it to the last major hurdle before descending
into the Machu Picchu Park – the ‘Gate of the Sun’ , a spot having a magnificent view
of the ruins. However, the final
approach to the Gate consisted of large, high, rough-hewn stone steps. At that point I was sort of glad that the
rest of the group had gone on ahead (with the exception of son Stanley who, in
a combination of filial duty and a good dose of “man, why did I ever agree to
this hike?” remained by my side throughout most of the journey). There was just no alternative. There was no way my cramped legs were going
to go beyond their shuffling gait and rise to the level of each step. So I got down on my hands and knees and
crawled upwards. Like a baby. I won’t say whether I was crying.
Rule Number 9: It ain’t over till the Fat Lady sings.
Okay, I have to admit it.
It was pretty spectacular being the last person into and out of an
already closed park – to see the Machu Picchu ruins in the fading light of day
with no living creature in it except for the occasional grazing Llama and one or
two buzzards circling overhead. I sucked
it in. But even though that last bit was
all downhill, it was still hard. I
finally pulled my carcass into the last waiting bus in which the last group had
been waiting for my arrival so they could get to their hotels and evening meals
in Aguas Calientes. The bus pulled out
of the parking lot and after twenty minutes or so finally stopped in a parking
lot where I could get out and enter into our hotel…………………which was an
additional 6 or 7 blocks away, all
uphill along narrow cobble streets. I
made it to the hotel eventually, where I was mercifully given the key to my and
my son’s room………...which was on the third floor of the elevator-less
hotel. After crawling up the stairs and
collapsing on a bed where I rolled about for a time, unsuccessfully trying
to find that one position that would alleviate the leg cramps, Stanley and I
decided that we should indeed join the rest of the group for a soak in the
local hot springs…….which were another ten blocks up a very steep hill.
Rule Number 10: Yes,
it was worth it.
What can I say about how incredible and spiritual Machu Picchu
actually is? We went back the following morning and spent most of the day wandering through the rainy and misty ruins. There is a centuries old functioning
sun dial there. The entire city was set up with
an intricate irrigation system and terraced planting structure. There is a room with a window in one of the
ruins through which the sun is projected on the same spot on the same minute on the
same day of both the summer and winter solstice. No one is quite sure why the city was
abandoned in 1572 as a belated result of the Spanish Conquest. Or how it remained virtually ‘undiscovered’ by
the ‘outside world’ from that date until 1911 when it was stumbled upon by a
German explorer. Would I recommend
putting the visit on your bucket list?
Yes I would. Would I recommend
taking the train all the way from Cusco to Aguas Calientes and then a bus into
the park? Well…you figure that one out for yourself.
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