I was woken up to the sound of rain pattering on the corrugated roof tops of Aguas Calientes. I looked at my watch, 5 AM is too early a morning with the price of Cristal in Peru. Oh well. We all scrambled to pack our bags, and hurry out the door of Hostal Tumi by 5:30. Ok, if I had an alarm clock, the snooze button would have been broken by this point. But I did wake up eventually. Dashing down the cobblestone streets toward the bus station, I was careful not to slip on the rain water following me down the hill. We had forgotten to pack ponchos, so Lenay bought a few from one of the more ambitious vendors at 5:40 in the morning. Fortunately, I never had to use mine, as this particular monday cleared up and gave us sunshine for the wonder about to be witnessed.
At the station, small coach buses were already heading out to the sacred city as Liz, Lenay and I filed into the line, waiting to board the next bus. 20 minutes later our driver was following the 13 scars in the mountainside (otherwise known as the Hiram Bingham highway), bringing us to Machu Picchu. I debarked at the visitor center, and joined up with group Kosmos. It was made up of Koreans, Americans, English, Dutch, a fair representation of the daily patronage that it's caretakers see. We assembled at the end of the Inca trail, a rock where all cliche pictures are taken (note:title picture). This rock is perpetually clogged by tourists wanting that once in a lifetime snapshot. I've got my own, who can talk?
What immediately stood out to me was how the agricultural and urban sectors are seperated. Our guide informed us that because a fault line running through Putukusi and past Machu Piccu, the cities architects foresaw integrity problems, and seperated the city based on local geology. How incredible! What you might also notice is the difference in construction practices in the city. The builders cut the stones in no less than 13 different ways. The more pragmatic practice was to use small stones and mortar. The larger, more ceremonial buildings, such as the three windows temple were made by cutting large stones and fitting them together perfectly. This obviously took far more time and skill, though to see it is absolutely stunning. Furthermore, at the Temple of the Sun, there lies a large rock that exactly points to the cardinal directions. What is special about the rock, is that the priests carved a point that leads to magnetic north. How could the Inca's have known of the difference? What wisdom?
The rest of our two hour tour was spent focusing on the rooms for the princesses, where they would spend their menstrual cycle looking at the moon through stone pools in the floor. The mausoleum has a sort of surrealist stone condor, the spiritual animal that brings the dead to the afterlife. This carrion eater, one of the largest birds in the western hemisphere, is so important to the Inca that the city was built in it's shape, as old Cusco is in the form of a puma. Upon seeing llamas grazing in the main courtyard, the tour guide explained that besides ambient purposes, the iconic mammal is a very effective lawnmower for the lost city.
At the end of our tour, our guide told us about Wayna Picchu, the mountain sitting behind Machu Picchu. At an altitude of 2634 meters at it's peak, he told us the only way to Summit Wayna Picchu is to hear the spirit of the mountain calling you. Otherwise it will be impossible. Additionally the mountain only calls four hundred people daily (park rules) Once called, it takes fifteen minutes Inca time, or one hour tourist time. Although skeptical of the challenge, we nevertheless heard the call of the mountain at 11 AM that morning. forty five minutes later, after climbing thopusands of stairs on an ancient Incan pathway, I was lounging in the sun at it's summit. The rocks at it's peak gave me a commanding view of the surrounding region and a bird's eye shot of Machu Picchu. I imagine that in case of invasion, the Inca could have held off invaders indefinitely. With the fortifications of the natural geography, coupled with a steady water supply and hardy agricultural capabilities, the city must have represented a strong point in the region, superior to most castles in far off medieval Europe.
Staggering down Wayna Picchu, admiring the UNESCO site and chasing some llamas, we left Machu Picchu, after nine hours. Taking the switchback road back down the mountain, I returned to hostal Tumi to retrieve my pack, which they had graciously stored for the duration. The locals were creating sand paintings on the streets when we returned, to celebrate Semana Santa.
Short on cash, but having only eaten bread and a banana that day, Liz and I retraced our steps from the night before to a tiny fast food joint on the other side of Aguas Calientes. I feasted on a three sol hamburger, complete with fresh cucumber and lettuce. Unfortunately my disregard for produce germs would come back to haunt me in future days, but that is a different story.
At 5 PM our train left Aguas Calientes, leaving me exhausted, staring out the window, pondering on all that I'd seen today.
Maybe I'll go to Giza next year.
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