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Peru, the land of the Llama, the Alpaca, and the quest for the elusive Inca Princess.
Day 3, Nov 24, 2017. The fabulous tongue twister Ollantaytambo: Having survived the tough ordeal through the night, I called Wasim in his room as the morning dawned. ‘Oh my God. It was you’, was his shocked response. ‘All night I was thinking that some over-sized man had too much to drink and gotten sick. How a small person like you, could be capable of making such loud noises throughout the night. You kept the whole hotel awake. At times it felt like a series of minor earthquakes. Everyone living and non-living being must be cursing’. I was afraid that he was on the verge of launching one of his funny rants, but he showed mercy on me. He went to a nearby pharmacy and brought anti vomit pills and some Gatorade to hydrate myself. Consumption of some mineral laden liquids quickly made me feel better. We had another busy day planned and none of us could afford to be sick. Both Wasim and Fawad urged me to drink fluids only with a smirk as they chomped on eggs, bread and fresh fruits. I had no choice but to heed to their advice. My system needed a break. I was beginning to feel better already. Our van promptly showed up at 9 am. The driver Janet greeted us with a pleasant smile. Our efficient guide ‘In my country’ Iric warmly greeted us, armed with fresh knowledge of Afghanistan. We were ready to check out the hotel and get rolling. After last night’s experience the hotel was probably ready to check me out as well. The van started to roll out of the busy city center in the direction of the mountains. Today’s plan was to visit the Sacred Valley of the Incas. Machu Picchu is probably the biggest tourist draw in Peru, but the sacred valley (Valle Sagrado de los Incas) lying in the shadows of the towering Andean mountains, is an equally important area along with the city of Cuzco, that merits similar importance and level of exploration as the Citadel of Machu Picchu. Anyone seeking immersion intothe Inca experience must devote time by getting started with Cuzco, Sacred Valley, Inca trail and then culminating the trip to its climax by entering the Machu Picchu citadel from the historic Sun gate. Anything less would not enable the visitor to deeply connect with the Inca spirit. One must not overlook or rush the journey that takes one to the destination. The city of Cuzco, along with the Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu formed the heart of the famed Inca empire. Once the body is acclimatized at the high altitude of Cuzco. Remaining trip should not be a problem to handle the altitude. As it is said, ‘Your attitude determines your altitude’, but when one visits these areas, ‘Your altitude determines your attitude’. Both Sacred valley and Machu Picchu are at lower elevations than Cuzco. After driving for about an hour through the winding road, the van stopped at a scenic overlook. We got out to stretch our bodies and soak the scenery. The view of the valley below is awe inspiring. The sacred valley is also referred to as Urubamba valley. River Urubamba is visible snaking through the valley in its majesty disappearing in the high snow peaked Andean mountains. It is extremely fertile and scenic. There is agricultural land on both sides of the river. All shades of green are found here. Many mountain slopes have terraced farmland from the Inca era. Sitting on bare earth mesmerized by the unfolding green valley right below our eyes with the rich blood of Urubamba river running through its veins, one cannot help but overcome with a sense of the Inca spirituality. The insignificance of one’s own being is fully evident to the true explorer. This whole area was dotted with fascinating Inca sites, many of them still undiscovered. Staying unmoved, I sat and absorbed the ambiance, until the sweet low voice of Janet summoned us back to the van. She had that hint of the subtle smile with hands firmly planted on the steering wheel. I am suddenly reminded of Faiz’s poetry. Sorry to non-Urdu readers, any attempt to translate would be huge injustice.
Ab bhi dilkash hai tera husn, magar kye keejiey
Laut jaati hai udhar ko bhi nazar kya keejiey
With a heavy heart and heavier feet, I slowly walked back to the van convincing myself that better things were yet to come. As expected the scenery continued to get better. The roads twisted and turned to the contours of the lush green valley below. Bursting with life, and determined to erode all boulders in its way, the fierce fully flowing Urubamba river was our companion. Next stop would be, the majestic Pisac ruins, that were located high above the picturesque village of Pisac. The site of Pisac ruins, with its enormous agricultural terraces, bathhouses, mountainside graves, water works, temples, is no less in its grandeur than the Machu Picchu. Standing next to the massive terraces, one can appreciate their scale and size. The terraces were curved in shape. They continued long ways along the sides and heights of the mountains. One is overtaken by the feeling of awe while standing next to the ruins. No Inca site tour can be complete without some dreaded mountain climbing. No pain, no gain. There were steps along the sides of the terraces that would take one high above the terraces. All along the mountain side one could see various Inca structures. I noticed some rooms high on the top of the mountain. Mr. ‘In my country’ Iric gleefully informed us that we would be climbing all the way up there. My de-hydrated body groaned in protest, but I ignored the protest and continued to guzzle down Gatorade as if it was going out of style. All along this ascent, we painfully tested our thigh muscles as well as other long time dormant muscles in our legs, while Iric briefed us about the history and architecture of the great site. We saw the Sun temple that was perfectly aligned with shadow of the Sun on the day of the winter solstice. The last stretch of the climb was the steepest that led to the top of the hill. This area was classified as the military area. Never to miss an opportunity, like an avid hunter, Wasim noticed a good-looking girl going up the hill by herself. Using the oldest line in the book, he asked her to take his picture and then introduced himself. As they walked towards us, we were introduced to the adventurous Brazilian tourist. Her name was Bruno. She was doing a solo tour of Peru. Eager to meet new people she was very friendly and accompanied us for the rest of the trip to the top of the Pisac ruins. Suddenly our legs felt energized and climbing the mountain seemed like a walk in the park. Once we got to the top, we took many pictures all along the 360 degrees. Bruno asked me to take her picture using her cell phone. Being a trigger happy person, i clicked several times, that resulted in few chuckles from Wasim and Fawad. Bruno offered us water from her water bottle. Trying to replenish my body following last night’s dehydration, I happily accepted her offer and almost drank half her water bottle, which felt better than the Gatorade. We continued to joke around and take pictures. Wasim seemed a little unhappy on our fast-growing friendship. The views to the deep gorges on both sides of the mountain are were breath taking. The parking lot from where we started seemed like a tiny plain, with toy cars. People looked like moving ants. I was encouraged by the fact that my dehydrated legs were coping well with the steep climb or could it be the Bruno effect. Looking at the mountain across the other side of the gorge, one could witness numerous holes of varying sizes on the mountain side. Those were ancient burial tombs of the Inca people. Greedy grave diggers had robbed these sites and now they were off limits to the tourists. Well, whatever goes up must come down and we started our slow descent back to the entrance. We said good bye to Bruno with a heavy heart and said hello to Janet once again. I was contemplating the possibility whether Inca princess could be from Brazil since the Inca empire spread all along the South American continent. As usual Wasim had a brilliant idea, that we had enough room in the van and we should have invited Bruno to join us. But she had already disappeared in the tourist crowd. From the Pisac ruins we drove down to the lovely small town of Pisac. There was a large outdoor market with numerous narrow streets lined up with millions of all kinds of handicrafts and souvenirs. There was an explosion of colors on these streets, that spread in all directions like a complicated maze. One could easily get lost here while marveling the art work and talent of the local Inca artists. There were thousands of paintings, rugs, alpaca wool garments, scarves, wall hangings, plaques, chess boards etc. Trip to this market was a true revelation and mind a boggling experience. Almost all of the shops were extending to the street displaying their crafts on small tables in the open air. Many shops were un-attended or the shop owners were casually dozing off in the cool afternoon breeze. While checking out stuff looking for an authentic hand-made Inca ornament, I noticed a South Asian (desi) woman approaching towards me while scanning the various shop displays. The ever vigilant Wasim whispered to me, ‘Wasif bhai, Anjana is coming’. I decided to play along. In my pathetic attempt to become a Peruvian, I started talking to her, ‘Hola, welcome, welcome. Senorita, you Indian. Welcome. Here alpaca wool 100%, Inca chess game, bangles, hats, gloves, toys. Special discount for Indian.’ She smiled politely and said thanks as she continued to look at the different pieces. As I was contemplating what to say next in my Peruvian Indian English, her companion asked her to come to the other shop and off she went. I yelled, ‘Gracias, Adios special discount for you’. She said Bye. I noticed Wasim and Fawad trying to control their laughter at the corner, and later we all shared a good laugh. Sometimes on these remote trips, one got to let go of one’s sensibilities and pursue simple silly childish pleasures. We continued to look at all the neat stuff while getting lost in the myriad of shops, lanes, by-lanes. After couple of tiresome hours, we decided to leave for the next all-important stop. Yeah, you guessed it right, it was lunch time. We drove to a nearby restaurant for lunch as recommended by Iric. I did not want to eat while my stomach was trying to recover from last night’s disaster and decided to consume fluids only. However, the devouring ensued by the starving Khan brothers ensured that the food would not miss me at all.
Iric told us that the next stop would be the famous Inca city of Ollantaytambo. Located on the northern end of the sacred valley, Ollantaytambo, was one of the last strongholds of the Inca empire. The Inca king and his forces had some success during the wars fought at Ollantaytambo. The word Ollantaytambo is a tongue twister. We all tried many times, but it was hard to say it, and even harder to remember. But once you get the hang of it, it is almost fun to say it, Ollantaytambo. The ruins were built all around the mountain sides surrounding the city. The main attraction was the dominating Inca fortress located on the Temple Hill on the edge of the area. There were large terraces, Sun temple, rooms, worship areas, bath houses and associated structures. Once again, the climbing began to challenge our horrified legs. The climb was steep and grinding. However, the surrounding areas, grand scale terraces, rooms, structures, stones weighing hundreds of pounds perfectly perched atop each other, and the mountain setting was mesmerizing, and we continued to climb totally oblivious to the pain in our legs or the lack of Oxygen that our lungs craved. Once at the top, there was a beautiful view on every side including the view down below of the picturesque town of Ollantaytambo, Urubamba river, and the cliffs on the other side. The Inca builders had built huge storage sites on the top of the mountains on the other side of the town. Some of the rocks on the edge of the opposite cliffs give an impression of a human face, that is sacred to the Inca as well. I started to aimlessly wander along the ruin structures, touching the old Inca stones, hoping to feel some vibes and connect with this great ancient civilization. This was a reinvigorating experience. Having done the taxing climb, I felt energized, not feeling at all the effects of the dehydration from the night before. I saw few Llamas wandering aimlessly like myself and we smiled at each other as we reveled in the greatness of that place. The day was coming to a worn-out conclusion. We started our descent back to the ground level. Later we did some leisure walking in the antique dusty lanes of that historic city. There were some wooden structures, doors, window frames and beams that still existed from the original Inca period. Finally, everyone gathered at the van where the ever reliable Janet was waiting. We started the short scenic drive parallel to the Urubamba river, to the town of Urubamba. We got to our hotel located in the outskirts of the Urubamba city. This was to be our last meeting with Iric and Janet. They had proven to be wonderful hosts and knowledgeable in their fields. According to Iric we were his first visitors from Afghanistan to which we dutifully nodded. I told him that hopefully soon he will get his first Pakistani visitors as well. There were hugs, good byes and final group pictures. The van slowly faded away into the memory lane. Our hotel seemed like a little oasis on a large parcel of natural land full of trees, colorful flowers and bushes. There were detached rooms surrounded by lush and beautiful greenery and landscaped flowers. Passages were lined by trees with real fruit. There was an inviting open-air courtyard with a fountain surrounded by small wooden benches. High mountains were visible all around, some of them snow covered. After getting a brief rest in our room and refreshing ourselves, we headed out to the town for dinner. There were Pakistani style motor rickshaws efficiently transporting people around the town. The center of the town looked like any other small Peruvian town center, colorful and clean, lined with little restaurants, cafes, and assorted shops. People were out on the streets in droves, children running around, streets dogs lazily sitting on busy corners or outside the shops. We had a leisurely dinner at a small restaurant. I still did not eat much and focused on drinking water and Gatorade. Did not want to take any chances for the big hike to Machu Picchu next day. I took the rickshaw back to the hotel, while the Khan brothers decided to explore the city a little bit more. I crashed and went to sleep right away setting the alarm to sound at 5 am. I fully knew that the hike to Machu Picchu would be much tougher and demanding than anything we had done so far. I needed to give full rest to my dehydrated body and fully recharge my batteries.
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Day 1 Lima – Day 2 Cuzco – Day 3 Ollantaytambo – Day 4,5 Machu Picchu
The Lunatic Travels by Wasif Malik 