Getting to Machu Picchu

Visiting Machu Picchu, the famous Inca ruins, isn't a totally straightforward journey - and I don't think we took a particularly complicated route. First we flew to the Peruvian capital Lima, then took another plane to Cusco, the closest airport. Then there was a bus to the historic Inca town of Ollantaytambo, and later a train to Aguas Calientes, a town of hot springs at the bottom of the hill from Machu Picchu. (Aguas Calientes is a relatively hideous little place, built only to serve the tourists and only half finished. It has been renamed Machu Picchu Pueblo (Town), presumably to make it easier for tourists to know they have arrived at the right place.)

Aguas Calientes

Then finally there was a bus up to the ruins themselves.

And your Machu Picchu experience doesn’t come cheap – though I certainly don’t begrudge the Peruvian government what must be a significant addition to the country’s GDP. Flights to Cusco aren’t cheap, and the closer you get to Machu Picchu, the more the tourist prices rise. It cost more than US$70 each for the 90-minute or so train trip from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes (though that does include a free cup of coca tea and biscuits), US$24 for the 15-minutes bus trip up the hill, US$50 per day for entry to the ruins, plus almost US$15 to climb one of the sacred mountains behind. Want a pee? That’ll be 50 cents. And of course every tourist pays for accommodation, restaurants, bottles of water and photos taken with a woman with a colourful hat and a llama.

Since we didn’t have to be back at work in Denver within the week, we were able to enjoy the journey in a relaxed fashion. The bus ride from Cusco takes you through the fertile Sacred Valley, with its rushing river (white water rafting is popular with tourists here), its fields of corn, potatoes, quinoa, flowers and vegetables, and a series of small settlements and bigger towns, with most of the houses still made from local red earth bricks, with orange tiled roofs. The fields were small and varied, and all the ploughing was still being done by pairs of oxen; harvesting was by hand. Women carried the produce from the fields in big bundles on their backs. Alongside the road there were cactuses and prickly pears, and the odd Inca ruin.

The towns were busy. There was Saturday morning football going on, a wedding in one place. One town was advertising a “Festival Gastronomica de la Cuy”, with an alluring picture of a cute guinea pig just waiting to leap into the pot. We saw tuk tuks for the first time, colourful three-wheeled vehicles carrying everyone and everything between the settlements.

Once on the train the valley narrows to basically the river and the train tracks. It’s dramatically beautiful as the steep, dry mountains on either side give way to jungle.

There is a road to Machu Picchu Pueblo, but it’s a perilous, five-hour trek on a single lane unmade-up road through steep countryside, with bus-swallowing drops. Locals living in villages along the road have long asked the government for an upgrade, but the railway lobby is strong. Put in a decent road and some of the more budget-conscious backpackers and tour groups would start going in by road.

And then they’d miss out on their tea and biscuits.

Llamas, alive and dead

Blending in with the llamas

Looking through Geoff's awesome Peru photos, I see llamas feature in quite a few. And although I've written about these furry fellas in a disparaging, anti-tourist fashion in a previous blog, they are actually exceptionally fine animals, and deserve more coverage in glorious technicolour.

As we head out of Peru into Cuba, I thought I might rectify this. So here are a few pictures of llamas. Enjoy.

Warning: some content may offend.

Cusco women with baby llama

Llamas learning about the Incas

Sam learning about the llamas

Llama not having a very good time at a festival

Some very ex-llamas

Ollantaytambo

Ollantaytambo, between Cusco and Machu Picchu, is the site of one of the Inca kings’ few victories against the marauding Spanish in the 1500s. Manco Inca, who had been appointed a puppet king by the invaders aged 18 or so, saw the error of his ways (and the devastation of his people and culture) and holed up in the town, trying to gain local support to fight the Spanish. He did send them packing in one battle, in January 1537, partly by damming the river and flooding the entrance to the town. But the Spanish were soon back with a bigger force. One of the advantages the Spanish had was that the Incas, invaders themselves, weren’t universally popular among the tribes they had previously conquered. And by promising freedom from the Inca rulers, the Spanish were able to get a lot of locals on their side. In the end, of course, the Spanish just gave them smallpox, Catholicism, and far less freedom than they had previously enjoyed.

But Ollantaytambo is a lovely town, still Inca at heart, with Spanish additions, and some very fine Inca (and older) ruins behind. The Incas quarried their stones six kilometres away, on the other side of the valley, bringing the stones - some of the HUGE - down one very steep slope, across a river, through fields and up another steep bank to build their temple complex, which was 80 years in the making and never finished. Archaeologists estimate some of the biggest stones took over 1000 people to move.

The Spanish looted anything precious (gold and silver mostly) and then dismantled some of the ruins to use the stones for their own building. But it’s still a fine place to spend a couple of days exploring. So we did.

Peruvian festivals

Photos all courtesy of Geoff Godden

Before coming to Peru, I’d always thought of Andean festival music involving lyrical tunes on flutes. El Condor Pasa, but less annoying.

How wrong I was. While pan flutes might play subtly in the background in backpacker reception areas or tourist restaurants, actually what every good Peruvian festival needs is a brass band. Or preferably two. And lots of explosions. Like fireworks, except much louder and during the daytime. Like a war zone – with brass bands.

And there are no shortage of festivals at which brass bands can show their prowess, and people can blow things up. Apparently there are more saints’ days than days in the year, and there are other festivals worth celebrating: the grape harvest, for example, a local horse race, or the national drink, Pisco Sour. (I kid you not, there is a national Pisco Sour festival day.)

Our first festival experience was the Labour Day/May Day festival (May 1), when we were in Cusco. There were parades and speeches in the square, and brass bands and explosions were much in evidence around the city. We were a bit worried about the explosions at first. But no, we were reassured that it wasn't the start of a civil war - just patriotic worker exuberance. 

Labour Day was just a warm-up. Two days later, in Aguas Calientes, there was a much more elaborate festival, Fiesta de las Cruces (Festival of the Crosses), with heaps of performers, lots of explosions, several brass bands, and much consuming of beer. Celebrations went on for at least two days.

Fiesta de las Cruces (Festival of the Crosses), May 3, Aguas Calientes

The performers paraded through the narrow streets, stopping at various points to play for crowds of locals and tourists. They wore wonderful costumes and some at least seemed to act out scenes. In one I watched, a group of teenage girls faced off against a group of youngish men. The girls ridiculed the men soundly when they attempted to cross the divide to get a dance out of a girl (or perhaps worse). At one stage, the girls set on one poor guy, pushing him to the ground and kicking him. Not sure what he’d done, but it all ended happily with lots of dancing. The Peruvian equivalent of a Shakespearean comedy, perhaps.