No one seemed too bothered about the early start (4am) on the final day.  We were all too excited and had been unable to sleep properly anyway – our dreams of seeing Machu Picchu were about to be realised.  For almost the first time in four days it was not raining and the sky was full of bright stars.  It was only now that it became apparent how many other people had been actually walking the Inca Trail.  Joined by extra groups who were on a shortened two-day Inca Trail there suddenly appeared to huge numbers of walkers heading towards Machu Picchu.  Looking in front and behind us along the path was a torch lit procession snaking along the side of the mountain through the woods.  We walked in almost complete silence for a couple of hours, getting more and more excited.  The hair on our heads stood on end from the anticipation, and not the fact that it had not been washed for 4 days.  Heading towards Intipunku, the Sun Gate, we became agitated by slower walkers.  As the sky became lighter and lighter, the whole valley below us was revealed to us as the sun started to rise from behind a mountain in the distance and we were anxious we were going to miss our first view as the sun rose up over Machu Picchu.  We virtually ran up the steep steps to the Sun Gate.  As we walked around the corner and looked down on the ancient citadel, our hearts dropped.  The valley in front was filled with a mass of swirling cloud.  We tried not to be disappointed, but after 4 days of walking in the rain to be greeted with fog was not what we had planned on.

Joe, an American in the group, chuckled to himself.  He had not really been prepared for the walk, wearing jeans and trainers that got soaking wet on the first day.  His attempts to carry all his kit did not last and he had resorted to hiring a porter by day two.  He caught a cold and looked like he had not enjoyed the trek.  It was also very disturbing when he spoke, because his slow drawl sounded just like the character played by Billy Bob Thornton in the Oscar winning film, Sling Blade.  At any moment we expected him to say, “Ah, Huh, I Rekkun”.  If he could see the funny side of the situation then we had no reason not to either.  There was nothing else we could do about it, but laugh with him.

   We hung around at the Sun Gate, waiting for the fog to clear, but it was not looking very hopeful.  Our guide told us that he probably only sees Machu Picchu from that spot once or twice a year.  That is something they don’t bother to tell you in the guidebooks or at the tour agencies.  Of course we had to take some photos, it was after all our first view of Machu Picchu.  We thought we might be able to use it for a game, a bit like pin the tail on the donkey.  As we descended into the clouds we glanced behind us to admire the valley and mountains from where we had come from which were now bathed in early morning sunlight.

After 30 minutes walking down through the fog we finally reached the photographers vantage point, known as the ‘Hut of the Caretaker of the Funerary Rock’.  If you have ever received a postcard of Machu Picchu, it is likely that it was taken from this spot.  The fog started to lift and we got our first glimpse of the ruins.  There were the obligatory wisps of clouds clinging to the hillside making it looked really mystical.  An ideal photo opportunity, the only noise was from the clicking of cameras.

Maybe it was the angle that the photos had been taken at, but we imagined the ruins to be a lot bigger.  It is the location of the ruins that make them so important and not it’s size.  The beautiful natural setting of Machu Picchu at 2,430 m above sea level, set amongst tropical mountain forest, is extraordinary.  The site lies in the middle of a saddle shaped ridge between two mountains.  No one knows what the Incas called their city, which has adopted its name from the mountain that rises behind the ruins, Machu Picchu (literally meaning ‘Ancient Peak’).  This mountain is just one of four ancient peaks that surround the ruins, the other three being Huayna Picchu, Putukusi and Pumasillo.  From the centre of the site, each peak points towards a specific direction, North, South, East or West.  Blending in naturally with the landscape, its giant walls, terraces and ramps could easily be mistaken for the rock escarpments that it is built on.

It is easy to understand why these ruins went undiscovered for so long, it’s remote location and its concealment ensuring that the Spanish did not know of its existence.  If they ever did know, it was probably too inaccessible for them to have bothered with.  For whatever reason, it luckily escaped the looting, plundering, burning and destruction that most Inca sites were subjected to during the Spanish Conquest.  As a result, this has become the most significant and famous archaeological site in South America.

It was not until 1911, when a Yale University expedition led by a chap called Hiram Bingham, that the ruins at Machu Picchu were ‘rediscovered’.  Bingham paid a local Quechua man one sol (things haven’t changed much since 1911), who told him that on top of the hill, out of sight was an archaeological ruin.  He assumed it to be the site he was looking for, Vilcabamba (one of the last Inca strongholds), and so he actually discovered Machu Picchu purely by mistake.  The site was totally overgrown with vegetation and although it had been abandoned by the Inca centuries before, a couple of local peasant families were living there.

The search for Vilcabamba continued for many years, until 1964 when Gene Savoy (an American archaeologist) unearthed the site at Espiritu Pampa.  Hiram Bingham had already made it there not long after he had discovered Machu Picchu but had left it alone thinking he had already found the last Incan stronghold.  In his excitement he forgot to log the exact location, and therefore it became ‘lost’ again.  More recently, Peruvian and British explorers have discovered a number of other lost Inca cities all in the same area.  Lying only 40 kilometres from Machu Picchu are one of these sites, Corihuayrachina.    These ruins are even more sophisticated than Machu Picchu, suggesting a well-developed settlement.  Included in the site are ruins of circular homes, storehouses, cemeteries, funeral towers, roadways, waterworks, farming terraces, a dam and a truncated pyramid.

Obviously, there has been a lot of archaeological exploration since the discovery of Machu Picchu and new things are always being excavated.  In total, about 150 skeletal remains have been exhumed; the vast majority of these are females, with only about 20 males and four children.  The large number of female remains was quite curious and has led to various theories, the most popular being that the last inhabitants of Machu Picchu were women, left by the men who had gone off to fight the Spanish, selected to stay to continue important ritual ceremonies.  The theory of it being a glorified brothel is a great suggestion but, unfortunately, very unlikely.

The mystery surrounding Machu Picchu and its precise function is one of is greatest attractions and huge numbers of people believing it was a particularly important centre of worship and ceremonies come searching for a spiritual experience.  Maybe it was the two dogs copulating in the main grassy plaza that distracted us, but it did not really feel that it was a particularly sacred place.  Neither of us felt compelled to sit down and meditate, or take off our clothes and run around naked for that matter.

The majority of the site is split between agricultural terracing and buildings to accommodate about 500 people.  Even though there are a number of temples and the usual stone alter that is illuminated by the sun during one of the Solstices, most of the buildings are very functional consisting of not just houses, but also workshops, storage areas and baths.  Built at the height of the Inca Empire it was probably one of the most amazing urban centres, not the biggest, but certainly one of the most dramatic.

Machu Picchu is an exceptionally well-preserved archaeological site, with some fantastic granite stonework, locking together like a huge jigsaw puzzle (one stone had 34 interlocking angles cut into it).  Anyone who has ever worked with granite will know that it is not only a very heavy stone, but also very tough and is takes a great deal of skill to cut it accurately.  There are 3 granite quarries within the site, which must have been working full time to provide a constant supply of stone during the city’s construction.

 Our guided tour only took an hour and a half and by 10 am we were left to explore on our own.  Vicky decided to climb up Huayna Picchu (Younger or Lesser Peak).  This is the hill that is the backdrop for most of the photos taken of Machu Picchu and is almost 400 metres higher than the ruins.  We had been warned it was not the easiest hills to climb and those with a fear of heights, including Caius decided to give it a miss.  The route clings to the side of the mountain and there is an almost vertical stairway of about 50 metres carved into the rocky face.  It was not too scary and there was a handrail much of the way to support and pull yourself up.  The final climb to the top was with the aid of a rope, which someone had apparently recently misjudged and had tumbled to their death.  The panoramic view from the top was worth the tiring climb, with Machu Picchu, the Urubamba Canyon and the snow-capped peaks in the distance.  There were too many people hanging around at the top, determined to try and find the highest and most precarious rock to conquer.  The walk back down was a little more disconcerting and from the top of some mini terraces we realised how steep it really was.  The set of tiny steps we had come up now seemed even smaller and steeper and we realised there was nothing at the bottom to stop us from falling right to the bottom if we had slipped.

By the time we had reached the bottom, the ruins were crawling with tourists.  Caius had managed to spend a relaxing hour wandering around before the train from Cusco had arrived.  Even though there are restrictions on the number of people walking the Inca Trail, there are none on the number that can visit the ruins.  From a height it looked like someone had been painting the ruins in splodges of white, blue, red, green, yellow and black.  What we were actually looking at was a load of tourists wearing ponchos, shuffling around in their organised tour.

It had been a good idea to walk in shorts, while it was raining, but now we were lower down and it was warmer we were the prime targets for sand flies again.  We were too engrossed in the excitement of going to Machu Picchu we had forgotten to put on any mosquito guard that morning.  They were particularly attracted to our bare legs, which were soon covered in small, weeping wounds.  Our early start had been worth it, but sharing the ruins with a couple of thousand other people (and sand flies) was not enjoyable, so we made our escape just as it started to rain – again.

Article taken from Inca Hoots by Caius Simmons & Vicky Brewis.

Technorati Tags: Inca Trail Peru, Machu Picchu Tours, Peru Holiday, Peru Travel Deals, Peru Vacations

Your passport must be valid for six months from the date of travel.  If your passport is about to expire you will not be granted entrance to Peru.  It is also worthwhile checking whether you need a visa (www.peru.visahq.com/). 

Make two copies of all your travel documents (tickets, flights details, itineraries, passports) and leave one copy at home with friends or family. Keep any copies you carry with you separate from your other documents.

We also scanned our documents into a Word document which was then password protected and e-mailed to ourselves, so we could access them quickly if necessary.  Bear in mind that Internet Cafes are not necessary secure places to access this information.

When travelling between towns always have your passport with you as legally it needs to be ready for inspection at any time.  

Carry your money, passport, and credit card with you at all time – don’t rely on the safety of the hotel safes.  A concealed pocket within our trouser pockets once kept our cash safe (not in Peru I hasten to add) during an armed robbery.

Technorati Tags: Peru Holiday, Peru Travel, Peru Travel Deals

For a small fortune, even by UK standards, a bus took us to the nearby town of Aguas Calientes.  This is the closest town to Machu Picchu, which at first appears to be a pretty miserable place – full of expensive hotels, tacky souvenir shops, busy restaurants, and American and European tourists.  Based on the horror stories about the thermal springs we decided to give bathing a miss. 

We never found out if Gringo Bill’s lives up to it’s good reputation.  So much for making a reservation in advance – when we turned up, they didn’t have a room reserved for us and they wanted double the price we had agreed over the phone.  The extremely rude receptionist assumed we would just put up with her offer, but we just walked away.  Later, overhearing a conversation between six friends, we listened to an almost identical story.  They were extremely pissed off because they had already paid for their rooms through an agency and ‘Bill’ was insisting they coughed up for a room again. 

 Los Cabaña was a far nicer, and friendly, alternative.  After being so cold and wet, and not washing properly for four days, the shower was magic.  Aguas Calientes we were in, and ‘aguas calientes’ it was.  Standing underneath the hot, powerful jet of water, it was wonderful to feel the bones warm up again.  It was just a good job the soap and hot water ran out, otherwise Vicky would have stood there forever. 

Against popular opinion, we quite liked Aguas Calientes, once the last train left and all the tourists had gone, that is.  The main street is, in fact, the main rail track, with shops, stalls and restaurants lining the platform.  As long as we stayed away from here we seemed to be relatively safe from being touted.  Strolling around the main square with Bobby (the Canadian), and Joe (“Ah, Huh, I Rekkun”), was more than a pleasant way to spend an evening, reflecting on our trip to Machu Picchu.  Bobby taught us how to deal with any touts outside the restaurants.  When they approached, he would say “Que tal?” (How are you?), which would really throw them, not knowing what to say, and leaving them completely speechless.  By the time they figured out a reply, we had passed by and onto the next restaurant.

The next morning, just to make absolutely sure we were completely worn out from the rigours of the Inca Trail we decided to go on yet another walk, this time up Putukusi, which along with Huayna Picchu is one of the four sacred mountains that surround Machu Picchu.  It was a very pleasant walk, for about half an hour, until we turned a corner and were faced with a sheer vertical face with a rather dodgy looking ladder going up it.  Admittedly it was made of large branches and it seemed to be securely fixed to the rock face, even if it did appear to lean outwards at a few places and we could not see the top.  We were determined to make it to the top, particularly Caius, who wanted to overcome his fear of heights (not the best place to start).  After 120 rungs of intense concentration, and sweat, we reached the top.  Caius found some solid ground away from the top rung and after the adrenalin levels had dropped we set off again.  Around the next corner we were confronted with another ladder.  It was not quite as long, but around the next corner was another and then another.  This happened a few more times and finally we reached a path and a view of the rest of the route.  It was steep but manageable and, better still, there were no more ladders.

Maybe it was our poor Spanish, but we were convinced that the tourist information officer in Aguas Calientes told us it was not scary and if we had been up Huayna Picchu we would not have a problem!

Earlier on in the walk, when he was clinging tightly to a ladder, Caius had said he was not going to stop until he could see Machu Picchu.  It finally came into sight as we rounded the last corner and got a view over the other side of the mountain.  From here Machu Picchu looked so small, but it was interesting to see it from a different angle and how extensive the terracing is around the buildings.  From our vantage point we could easily make out all the geological fault lines that lie underneath the ridge that Machu Picchu is built on.  There was a constant stream of buses snaking up and down the road, ferrying visitors from the recently arrived train from Cusco.  We stripped off and lay our sweaty clothes out on the rocks to dry.  Flying high above us was the rainbow coloured Andean flag.  We were finally disturbed by a couple who had also made it to the top.  Like most people, they had travelled from Cusco on the train and were using Aguas Calientes as a base to get to Machu Picchu.  However, they had got all the way here (and paid the extortionate train fare), but were not prepared to pay $20 to go into the site as they thought it was too expensive.  It seemed a bit like going to a posh Chinese restaurant and ordering Fish ’n’ Chips.

For some reason going back down was not quite as scary as the climb up.  Perhaps it was the thought that the quicker we got down, the quicker we would be back on ‘firm’ ground.  It was certainly a relief when we finally made it to the bottom of the last rung..

The train back to Ollantaytambo was a particularly posh one, with soft, comfortable seats.  Luckily we didn’t have to pay extra for the ticket, as it was all included in our Inca Trail trip.  Forking out a bit extra for a decent tour company definitely paid off.  Given the low cost of transport in Peru in general, this train ride is probably the most expensive journey, flying excluded, in the country.  With the knowledge that tourists will pay whatever is being charged just to get to Machu Picchu the train company can charge what the hell they like.  Our single ticket from Aguas Calientes to Ollantaytambo (about 15 miles) would have cost $25 each – bargain.  Windows in the ceiling meant we could watch the mountains slowly pass by as we trundled along the valley.  The sun was just starting to set and the snow capped peaks, towering way above us, had a hint of red on them.  It seemed more than two days previously that we had been walking in amongst the mountains and now we were leaving them, and Machu Picchu, behind.  By the time we reached Ollantaytambo the sun had disappeared, only to be replaced by a beautiful full moon.  The pink light on the mountains turned to a peaceful, eerily calm, glow.

The train station at Ollantaytambo was in total confusion and there was no one there to meet us, as promised.  The conductor informed us that there was another stop further down the track where all the buses, that couldn’t get through the narrow streets of Ollantaytambo, stopped to pick up passengers.  Logically, we stayed on, but when the conductor shoved us off at the side of the road we realised we had made a mistake.  Stuck in the middle of nowhere and with all the bus drivers denying any responsibility for three scruffy travellers (Bobby was also with us) we had no option but to walk the short distance back to the village.  This confusion must happen all the time because a few minutes later a minibus came to our rescue and took us back to Ollantaytambo.  When we hadn’t shown up at the train station, they guessed what had happened and drove out to collect us.    Back in Ollantaytambo, we hooked up with a larger bus to take us the last leg of our journey, back to Cusco.  Unfortunately the driver had left the lights on and we ended up pushing the bus through the main square to bump start it. 

The full moon hovered above the mountains, lighting up the valley around and ahead us.  On the previous journeys along this part of the Sacred Valley we had not seen any of the peaks as they had all been shrouded in cloud.  That night we could see for miles, the Vilcabamba and Salcantay mountain ranges looked tantalisingly close.

Article taken from Inca Hoots by Caius Simmons & Vicky Brewis.

Technorati Tags: cusco peru, gringo bills, Inca Trail Peru, machu picchu, machu picchu hotels, Peru Holiday

The time had come to start walking the famous Inca Trail.  You can now only walk the Inca trail as part of a pre-booked group with a guide.  Only 500 people are allowed to start the three-day trail each day, including guides and porters.  We thought that the trail would be packed with walkers, jostling for position along the path, but it was only when we stopped for a break or lunch did we realise that there were other groups on the trail.

The porters were all wide-eyed and fired up when we collected them, their cheeks bulging with coca leaves.  There were 11 porters and 2 guides with us in our group, almost one porter each.  They really appeared to enjoy their jobs, and were having a great laugh together.  They do get a relatively good wage, compared to them working in the fields, but its still bloody hard work.

A couple of years ago, porters used to carry about 50-60kg each.  Regulations now in force have improved their conditions considerably.  At each checkpoint their packs are weighed, to make sure they are not carrying too much.  Their maximum weight now is 30kg, which is still a hell of a lot but they all seemed to be coping okay.  It was amazing to watch them run past, with sacks, food, pots, pans, sugar bowls, napkins, stools, tables, tablecloths, tents and cooking gas on their backs, which was all covered in a large piece of plastic that trailed behind them like a cloak.  Having been along the path so many times, they were very sure footed.  Watching them run down granite steps, two steps at a time, was quite nerve racking.  They didn’t bother with wearing boots, opting for sandals or no shoes.  Quite often they are given boots by people who have finished the trail and have no further use for them, but they prefer not to wear them.  We guessed that they probably wear them down the pub on a Friday night instead.

We had opted to pay a small amount extra to have our stuff carried by a porter.  This sounds like a bit of a cop-out but we thought we may as well take advantage of it and had sound reason to do so.  Most of the people were carrying their own stuff out of pride – it was the Inca trail after all.  By the second day most of them were struggling and got a porter to carry their stuff for the rest of the walk.  After all we were at about 3000m asl and no matter how fit you are, altitude does have an effect.  There were a couple of people who managed their packs all the way, mostly without any complaints, but the others who insisted on carrying their rucksacks all the way were totally exhausted and had not enjoyed the walk at all.  They had spent all their time and energy concentrating on walking and had not had time to stop and appreciate their amazing surroundings.  All their stuff had got soaking wet, but the porters made sure ours were kept covered and everything was bone dry when we opened the sack each evening.  It was definitely worth it.

The porters took great pride in everything that they did.  Running ahead of us, they would be ready for when we stopped, with a large tent set up with either popcorn and hot drinks for elevenses and afternoon tea, or hot bowls of soup for lunch.  We don’t think we actually saw anyone use them, but they also laid out bowls of water with soaps and towels for us to wash with.  When we arrived at the campsites, the tents were ready, and our dry belongings lying in the tent.  We could quickly change into dry clothes and sit admiring the views.  The whole trip is designed so that the tourists only needed to walk and look at the scenery.

In the mornings our guide would wake us up at 6.00am with a cup of coca tea being passed into the tent.  We were fed constantly throughout the day and were even given snacks just to make sure we did not starve.  By the end of the fourth day we were stuffed and we could not even manage to eat a fabulous banquet the porters had prepared for us.  The thank you presentation on the final evening was fantastic and the porters all looked really pleased with themselves.  At the end, the porters very shyly received their well-deserved recognition and tips.  It is this extra bit of cash that makes all their hard work and leather soled feet worth their while.

As the Inca Trail is mostly within cloud forest, we should not have been too surprised to find it raining most of the way.  Lobo buying a poncho had been the only indication of what weather was going to be in store for us.  The rain we experienced on the first day continued on and off (but mainly on) for two days.  Waterproof trousers had been great when we had been stuck halfway up Cotopaxi, but it was a lot warmer on the Inca Trail and although the trousers kept the rain off they trapped just as much moisture.  Peeling off the waterproof trousers after the first day we decided that we were better off without the waterproofs as our trousers were so wet underneath.  Shorts were a much better option and at least it meant we had dry trousers to change into each night.  Some may have questioned our sanity as we stood on top of the Abra de Runkuracay pass (3800m asl) with heavy lumps of snow falling around us and our legs covered in goose pimples.

There are a number of other ruins along the way; ancient checkpoints, guards houses and small agricultural centres.  Everybody in the group were so wet they couldn’t be bothered to visit any of these ruins.  We were already soaked and it didn’t make any difference to make a detour for an hour or so to look at them.  A few of us made it up the stairs to Sayamarca.  It was so foggy we had not even realised that it even existed, and the view from it was not much better.  We both said we could have been standing at any ruined site in Cornwall on a foggy day.  By the time we made our way back down onto the main trail, the clouds cleared and the beautiful cloud forest materialised before us.  The peaks that we had just walked down from were covered in a dusting of snow.

With clear skies came another menace – sand flies.  They got into our hair, making our scalps irritatingly itchy.  If we stopped for any reason, like to admire the view, take a photo, or have a drink of water, within minutes we were scratching every bit of exposed flesh.

The Inca Trail from Ollantaytambo is only 27 miles (43Km) long, which spread over three and a half days means it is not too strenuous and we had plenty of time to relax, take in the views, read, play cards and explore.

The trail is mostly stone paved and had been constructed as a royal highway to reach Machu Picchu.  It is just one of the numerous paths built by the Incas that cross remote parts of the Andes.  They had done a great job in constructing the route all those years ago and even though it has undergone restoration it was in excellent condition.  There seemed to be little erosion, the restrictions on the number of walkers seemed to be working.  One of the sections of the path was amazing, snaking around the edge of the mountainsides, through tunnels and over bridges.  We took our time, enjoying the views of the snow-capped mountains of the Vilcabamba range and Salcantay.  Standing on the watershed separating two mountain ranges, we felt the cold air of the Vilcabamba range on one side of the path, whilst on the other side of the path we experienced the warm air rising up from the valley below the Urubamba mountain range.  It was a particularly strange phenomenon.

Not everyone who does the Inca trail are athletic, keen hikers.  As long as you are relatively fit and can walk, then you would probably manage it.  The most important thing is probably to take a few days to acclimatise to the altitude before starting.  The trail crosses over three high-altitude mountain passes; the highest is “Dead Woman’s Pass” at 13,440ft (4,200m).  We had been warned that it was a tough climb, and we saw a number of people collapsed on the way up being administered oxygen.  It was a long slog, but we all managed it to the top.  The second pass was just as tough, shorter but steeper and we had to walk it first thing in the morning when our bodies were still struggling to warm up.  It was interesting to see that the people who made it to the top of the hills first were the people who had not just flown into Cusco, but had been at a high altitude for a few weeks or more.  Even though we were not running alongside the porters, our walk the previous week in Huaraz had definitely helped us to acclimatize to the altitude.

If going up the hills wasn’t going to wear us out then the going down them would.  We passed down hundreds of granite steps, some of which were carved out of the rock face.  This was just as tough as going up hill and no one seemed to escape getting sore knees by the time we reached camp.

Debbie and Lucy, two Brits, who had been travelling around the world for a year, introduced us to their marking system for the toilets.  Each toilet experience was marked out of 10, ten being the best.  Marks were knocked off for dirtiness, lack of toilet roll, seat, door or even toilet.  Their worst ever toilet was in Thailand – ours was yet to come.  They rated the toilets on the trail quite low, but we thought they were being a bit harsh; at least there were some toilets to use.

Part of the new regulations mean you have to camp at assigned campsites, which usually have rudimentary facilities.  This all seems a bit of a cheat and some of the sites even have showers, but it means that people are not going to the toilet wherever they feel like it, or washing in the streams.  One of the toilets did have a number of points knocked off for the worst ever design; rather than having just a hole in the floor (which would have sufficed) a box had been thoughtfully built around the hole.  Unfortunately it was too high and the hole set so far back that you had no option but to sit down.  Squatting is the preferable option, and everyone before us had obviously felt the same.  They had climbed onto the box and squatted either side of the hole, leaving their muddy footprints all over the loo seat.

Article taken from Inca Hoots by Caius Simmons & Vicky Brewis.

Technorati Tags: Inca Trail Peru, Machu Picchu Tours, Peru, Peru Holiday, Peru Vacations

Trying not to catch the eye of any of the stall vendors, we moseyed around the labyrinth of Andean colours; reds, oranges and browns.  We were almost halfway through our trip, which meant we could start considering buying things to take home.  Showing any interest at all in any of the goods was fatal, the stallholder pouncing on you before you could move onto the next stall.  The only item we ended up buying were a few brightly coloured locally made ceramic beads.

If we saw something we liked we invariably tried to knock of a bit of “gringo tax”, although to be honest we didn’t really want to barter the price too low.  Quibbling over a few pennies didn’t seem quite right.  We had learnt to tell if we were being ripped off, and knew what the going rates were for most goods.  We walked away from those vendors that were trying it on, who would usually shout after us, offering the goods at a fairer price.

Wandering around the market were local woman and young children dressed in traditional costume, with lambs or puppies tucked under their arms, or young llamas on leads.  Every tourist they passed they would ask them if they wanted to take a photo of them with their fluffy cute animal.  As soon as the photo had been taken, they would then ask for money.  The tourists didn’t have much option but to hand over some coins – they had been fleeced (literally).  Maybe this was how all the books and brochures managed to get some interesting photos of people.  There was no way we were prepared to pay for the privilege of taking a photo, and anyway the women were making enough money without our cash lining their pockets.  Overlooking the square we watched these entrepreneurs in action and couldn’t help but laugh at a particularly loud, arrogant American woman being collared.  After making a small girl holding a puppy pose for her camera she turned to walk away, only to be chased after by the little girl with her hand outstretched asking for a dollar.  A Peruvian Sol was obviously not enough for her.  Not only that, but the three other women who had been sitting on the pavement in the background also insisted on being paid for their appearance.  The cost of one photo was more than she would have paid for the actual camera film.

High above the village centre, and away from the hustle and bustle of the market, is a large citadel.  Marking the southerly entrance to the Sacred Valley, this fortress would have been strategically important, monitoring the road that travelled between the mountains and the jungle.

The walk up to the ruins took us up through loads of terraces, and was quite exhausting, but the great panoramic views over the village and surrounding mountains made it worthwhile.  Reaching the first part of the fortress we sat and appreciated the birds eye view high above the valley.  From such a height we could see how fertile this valley was, a patchwork of fields spread out across the floodplain and terraces stretching up the steep flanks of the hills.  Spotting a tractor in one field, we realised it was the first we had noticed in South America as most fields are ploughed by hand or using oxen.

This was just the start of the citadel complex and we kept discovering more and more with every corner we went round and every hilltop we went over.  The Pisac fortress, terraces and settlements were a great place for exploring, following narrow paths around the edge of the steep cliff, up ladders and through small tunnels carved into the mountain.  Around each corner was another fortress, temple or small ruined hamlet.  In the centre of one ruin was a beautiful and precisely constructed religious centre, with smooth granite walls surrounded by sacred rocky outcrops, whose peculiar shapes and angles are thought to have aided in tracking important stars.  A strange function, considering it is called Temple of the Sun.

Engrossed in exploring the ruins, we hadn’t realised that the site had actually closed and the sun was starting to set behind the mountains.  We didn’t manage to see all of the buildings and could have easily spent a couple more hours wandering around the houses and temples, but our time, and light, had run out.  It was dark, and we were shattered, by the time we got back to town.  The market was packed up, all the stalls and tourists had gone, the main square eerily quiet.

We left Pisac over a kilogram lighter.  It certainly had nothing to do with lack of food, because we had found a great restaurant to eat it.  Nor did we have the return of the shits.  Just before we left home, the new Harry Potter book had been realised.  Seeing as J.K. Rowling had kept us waiting so long for book number five we just had to take a copy with us.  It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but when we had both finished reading it, we suddenly realised how heavy and bulky the book really was.  In Pisac there was a reasonably good book exchange where we finally got rid of Harry Potter, therefore taking 1kg off the weight of our packs.  It was a shame to see it go, but Ulrike, the local restaurant owner who had acquired it had been waiting for it to be released as long as we had and certainly appreciated us relinquishing it.

Back in Cusco we re-packed our rucksacks for our trip to Machu Picchu.  Our hotel had moved us to the front room, and we were kept awake all night with endless numbers of pissed people shouting out on the street and ringing the hotel doorbell all night.  When the drunks quietened off, all that remained was cockerels, dogs and beeping taxis every other minute. 

In the morning we were driven around Cusco collecting other members of our Inca group and it seemed to take forever to even get out of town.  An hour after we had been picked up, it didn’t surprise us when we found ourselves parked back up outside the front door of the hostel again.  We wouldn’t have minded so much if we hadn’t missed out on our breakfast because the tour agency insisted on collecting us so early.

After stops for food, petrol, gas, tyre checks etc, we finally arrived in Ollantaytambo, for the second time.  Unlike the beautiful sunshine we had enjoyed only a few days previously we were subjected to freezing cold temperatures and lashing rain..

Article taken from Inca Hoots by Caius Simmons & Vicky Brewis.

Technorati Tags: Inca, Machu Picchu Tour, Peru, Peru Holiday, Peru Vacations, Pisac Peru

A friend of mine who travels a lot within Peru talked to me about Suasi Island in 2007. The first time I heard of it, I did not even know where it was. Suasi Island is a wonderful private island located on the north-eastern part of the Lake Titicaca shore at 3,816 msnm / 12,520 ftsl. The fact that I did not know about it and the amazing things I had heard of made me finally book my trip to Suasi in May 2008. I had high expectations of this island; hence, I decided to go on my own given that none of friends could go along.

To get there, I first had to flight to Juliaca and then drive for 45 minutes to arrive to the city of Puno, the capital of the department of Puno. I stayed in Puno for one day to acclimatize to the high altitude. That day I rested, took some oxygen, had an Andean soup and walked around the city for a bit. Without knowing if there were more travellers going to Suasi Island during the three days I spent there, I waited for the transportation to pick me up and take me to the port. To my surprise, I happened to meet a couple from Spain, a couple of newlyweds from Italy and a group of 5 Peruvians, all going in the same direction. After introducing each other, we all immediately bonded.

The boat ride stops in the floating Islands of Uros and Taquile where we had the chance to stop and interact with the local high plateau people. It was just fascinating to find out about their ancient ways to live, their eating habits and their dances, music and traditions. After leaving Taquile Island, we continued our boat ride for one more hour. As soon as we could make out the first views of Suasi, we all went quiet to absorb so much nature, so much beauty. We arrived around noon time and were welcomed by the hotel staff that really spoiled us all the time we were there. Before we had a BBQ based on local products and meats, the island guide explained to all of us all there is to know and to do. After lunch, we walked up the island towards the hotel installations to get our rooms assigned. We all had rooms overlooking Lake Titicaca and terraces full of flowers and hummingbirds. An incredible view!

Visiting Martha’s cultural cabin, canoeing around the island, walking up Itapilluni Mountain at sunset time, observing vicunas and the island’s unique fauna or just contemplating the blue immensity of Lake Titicaca which could be seen from every corner in the island are some of the breathtaking activities we shared while in Suasi. If you were not doing an activity around the island, you were reading a book in a hammock or just sharing interesting conversations with some of the travellers in the hotel’s terrace. All these together with the hotel’s superb Andean-nouveau cuisine makes of this trip an experience beyond travel.

Suasi Island is a refugee for travelers who want to discover the marvelous experience of Lake Titicaca, a place where men and nature remain in harmony.

More than a place, Suasi Island is a contemplative experience!

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Technorati Tags: Lake Titicaca, Peru Holiday, Peru Travel Deals, Peru Vacations, Suasi Island