Machu Picchu

I think it’s fair to say, we’ve been consistently late for most things during this trip. Not ‘we’re going to miss the plane’ late, but definitely running behind time give or take 15 minutes. So imagine our surprise when we arrived at the train station the next morning for our (oh so very) early train to Machu Picchu to find a practically deserted station and empty train. I thought there’d been a mass extinction. Or maybe we’d just got the hang of this being up and about at the crack of dawn business. Our main concern was how to get down to 10kg of weight (our allowed baggage between the 3 of us) the night before, and we hoped that one small suitcase and a baby carrier would pass under the gazeful watch of the inspectors as we were eventually let on the carriage. We shouldn’t have worried. Granted, we weren’t allowed to take much but as with most people, we left our mountain of luggage at our hotel in Cuzco and no-one was being particularly overzealous with the weighing scales. As we made ourselves comfortable and prepared Leo’s breakfast, we met our train buddies for the next few hours, a lovely couple from Bolivia who were charmed by Leo and with whom we chatted for the entire journey. I barely noticed the breathtaking scenery as we chugged past (this has to be the slowest train I’ve ever been on- not counting London to Manchester on a Sunday night-the distance to Machu Picchu is 120km and it took us 4 hours to get there, you do the math), the mountains became more dramatic as we slid through the valley until we were hitting what is considered the beginning of the rainforest. We disembarked the train as the rain began to fall, first slowly then as a heavy downpour that we tried to find shelter in the nearby tourist trap market.

On asking for a taxi to our hotel, our question was met with a smirk and a direction to ‘not far up the way’. We realised the reason for the smirk as we ran up the hill to find our hotel before the rain ruined our hair (Leo was particularly concerned) was that there were no cars, let alone taxis in the small town named ‘aguas calientes’; the name for the collection of buildings and streets bordering the river that storms through its middle. On stumbling into our hotel, we were met with the news that there was no electricity, there hadn’t been any for the previous 3 days but they were hopeful for a return to service in the very near future. Fantastic. With the prospect of staying indoors while the rain cleared with no tv, radio or internet we did what any self respecting young family would do, slept. And when we woke, it was still raining. A trip out to find food was tentatively made with the thought that without electricity, God only knows what sort of culinary delights this town would be able to offer us. Our only hope was that we wouldn’t be poisoned.

We stopped in an empty kind of place that was ambitiously still offering us their entire menu. We chose an innocuous pasta and sauce and promptly began refuelling Leo whilst he entertained the locals with his red hair, chubby cheeks and endless smiling. When the food arrived it was indeed cooked, albeit by candlelight, and looked, well ok. Except that Ari’s spaghetti neopolitana (recipe reminder-spaghetti and tomato sauce) had bits of meat in it. ‘No no no!’ Ari exclaimed as he sent the food back. He was taking no chances of acquiring any Peruvian belly. The plate arrived a little later sans meat, meaning, they’d literally picked out the bits of meat for him. You could tell this from the little bits of meat they’d missed, still sitting sneakily in the sauce. Darn that pesky candlelight. So what to do except pray that the Peruvian belly angel would pass over and let us visit Machu Picchu unhindered the following day.

As lunchtime passed the rain began to lift, and though it was too late for us to venture to take the trip up the great mountain we decided to get out and about and visit the thermal waters that give aguas calientes its name. The open air pools are situated in spectacular surroundings, bordered by mountains with the river plundering on by. The pools are not that great in themselves, fairly crowded but at least provide some (and the only) entertainment in this purpose built tourist village. One slight problem, our luggage allowance didn’t permit bringing swimming cozzies so we had to go in the nude. No of course we didn’t, we did the next worst thing, hired some. Gross and not proud of it, but needs must I’m afraid. Alas I have no photographic evidence of this, but needless to say, we looked dazzling. Leo had to make do with his nappy, which despite swelling to the size of a beach ball, served its purpose adequately enough.

As the excitement of the day faded with the sunlight, we headed home for an extremely early night, had a bit of food and headed to bed like wee Willy Winky by candlelight. And suddenly lo and behold- we had electro light! So not quite such an early night, but we had an early start to get the bus up the mountain the next day so willingly we turned in.

We’d organised a guide for the following day who’d agreed to meet us at 7.30am (some eager beavers set off at 5.30am). After some waiting around we realised that he was annoyingly a no show so a little later than anticipated, headed off on our own to catch the bus, safe in the knowledge we could find one at the top for a reasonable price. The ascent was a windy one, but as the mountain unfolded infront of our eyes we barely noticed the dramatic rise in height. We were extremely lucky, the sun was out and it was lovely and bright, the perfect, perfect morning. The only thing clouding my mind was a little apprehension about Leo. Absolutely nothing was wrong, he was happy as Larry (who’s Larry?) in his backpack, and everyone was, as usual, very amused by his presence. What can I say except that I allowed myself to worry about taking him up the mountain, when I can safely say there was no reason to worry at all.

We disembarked at the top and we were surprised to see, a hotel, a restaurant, all your facilities needed for a pleasant few hours meandering. A guide approached us to offer her services in English, to which we happily agreed. A few steps into the complex and there you have it, the marvel that is the ancient citadel of the Incas. Despite it being a very famous image, it is definitely worth the visit in real life. What surprised me was the scale of it, it it’s time it was a full city housing around 800 people of various stations and functions, and as you can see from the photos a population of inquisitive llamas! The sun was really strong and there was no shade while wandering round the fallen walls, except for a little hut half way round the route. One let down was to be the quality of our guide. Young, inexperienced and with faulty English she gave us little information we didn’t already know, often I had to break into Spanish so we could understand each other, which for me isn’t too much of a trial but for Ari more of a let down. Luckily we had a little Inca knowledge from our previous tours and rested in the knowledge of that this experience was all about being there, rather than hearing about it. We rather enjoyed ourselves more when she’d gone, leaving us to get lost in the ruins, climb to get the best views and take too many photos of llamas. I was completely at ease now, and could really take in where I was. Many people think the place has a spiritual feel to it. I can’t honestly say I felt that myself, far too much was going on around me, I was tending to Leo, many tourists distracting etc, but I really felt the beauty of the mountains and the power of the earth and nature that created the surroundings, and I could have sat there just looking around all day. Unfortunately we didn’t have all day, and as dark clouds loomed ahead we took the opportunity to get back down to ground level before the heavens opened. Just as we were reluctantly descending, we came across another young family, with a 1 year old in tow! We greeted each other knowingly, and I felt pleased to see others doing the same as us. It is so possible to see these things with baby, certain things must be compromised, such as late nights, boozy nights out, the inca trail is a complete no no ( and hats off to anyone who has done this, it looks bloody hard work but I’m sure an unforgettable experience) but still, it’s so wonderful!

The rest of our stay in aguas calientes was (obviously) relatively uneventful, except to say that it literally poured it down with rain that afternoon, throughout the night, and most of the next day up to our departure the following afternoon. We were unbelievably lucky with the weather, we’d unknowingly come on the cusp of rainy season and escaped unscathed. And no Peruvian belly to speak of either. At the train station, we got chatting to a group of American tourists (is there a collective? I like gaggle..) who were on a ‘round the world’ tour in 3 and a half weeks by private jet. We goggled as they described their itinerary, Machu Picchu one day, Easter island the next, followed by Samoa, Australia, Cambodia, China, India, Tanzania, Egypt and Morocco. Turns out the one morning they had to visit this Inca civilisation was the one it poured it down and they were a somewhat miffed. Guess you can’t buy everything.

Our return journey dragged, despite the train staff’s best efforts to entertain by putting on a dance and fashion show (see photos of a very fetching cardigan), and after many many hours we arrived back in Cuzco for our overnight stay before heading off to the Sacred Valley of the Incas.