Peru, the land of the Llama, the Alpaca, and the quest for the elusive Inca Princess.
Day 4 & 5. Nov 25, 26, 2017. The invasion of Machu Picchu. That night I got a nice stretch of deep sleep that allowed the body to rejuvenate. I woke up around 5 am. I wondered as I lay in my bed. All these years I have been yearning to come to Machu Picchu, but for one reason or another the plan could never materialize. After a long wait, the day had finally arrived when I would reach the fabled citadel. All the time that went into planning this trip, gathering the guys, finalizing the date, selecting the tour operator, selecting the guide to hike the Inca trail, making reservations, cancellations and reservations again, was finally going to bear fruit on that day. Like completing a jigsaw puzzle, everything fell into place this time. We had seen the remaining country and devoured through some of the finest Inca sites and ruins. Now we were fully primed to meet the ultimate, the big kahuna, the top dog, the big cheese, the head honcho, the priceless possession of Peru, the awesome Machu Picchu. Yes, we had done our time and paid our dues, to earn the right to be in the presence of the mighty one. The historic journey was over and the prized destination was waiting. Would this experience meet or exceed the high expectations I had in my mind? We were about to find out. Only three days ago, I landed in this country, but it felt like ages. We had done and seen so much in these 3 days and the best was yet to come. Feeling the excitement, I got out of bed. Took a hot shower, packed my stuff and left the room. The garden area was very inviting in the early morning light. There were a gazillion stars shining in the twilight sky as if a dark tray full of tiny diamonds. I took some pictures with high snow peaked mountains in the background. Couple of people were working in the kitchen area to prepare our breakfast. They knew about our early check out schedule. I had not had any solid food for more than 24 hours, ever since that darn 1 square inch piece of alpaca meat found its way in my stomach. The upcoming hike would be tough and grinding. I made sure to eat a healthy breakfast including fruits, juices, bread, eggs, all washed down with a big cup of double tea-bagged hot tea. I was ready now, and so were the Khan brothers. We had our little backpacks with minimal stuff that would be needed for the hike and a night in Machu Picchu village. The tour operator had arranged to transport our remaining luggage back to Cuzco. The cab showed up around 5.45 am to take us back to the tongue twister town Ollantaytambo. The trains departing to Machu Picchu village leave from Ollantaytambo station.
There are a couple of ways to get to Machu Picchu. Because of the absence of any road through the mountains, one can not drive to Machu Picchu. The easiest option is to take the train to Agua Calientes (Machu Picchu Village). The train can be taken either from Cuzco or from Ollantaytambo. Official buses run from the base of the Agua Calientes village going up the winding path up the mountain at the entrance of the site of Machu Picchu. The harder option is to complete the 4 day hike on the historic Inca trail to reach Machu Picchu. This is an ancient 500 year old trail that was used by the Inca people to hike to the citadel of Machu Picchu. They would enter the site from the majestic Sun gate overlooking the old city. Hiking this trail would provide a comprehensive immersion in the Inca experience. The Peruvian government has done a fine job of protecting the Inca trail, the surrounding eco system, Machu Picchu and the hiking trails to the top of the peaks around Machu Picchu, by limiting the number of visitors to all of these sites. Anyone planning to undergo one or more of these activities must plan early enough in advance to ensure availability. The tickets sold out fast. Our itinerary did not have enough time for the 4 day hike. We had opted for the middle option. This option consisted of a one day hike through the historic Inca trail, crossing the rain forested mountains to enter Machu Picchu from the famous Sun gate. The hike is 8-9 miles long with an altitude gain of about 2800 feet. Visitors would stop at few Inca ruins along the hike and get a significant taste of the path that Inca people used. This is the option that we had chosen for this tour. We would take the Machu Picchu Express train that would drop us at the KM 104 stop. The process of checking-in at the train station and into the train to get to your seat was very orderly. There was plenty of time to get comfortably seated and take some pictures both outside and inside the train. Interior of the train compartment was nice and clean with padded seats and large windows for viewing the mountainside scenery. Urubamba river continued to accompany the train on the left side as it idly jogged towards the Machu Picchu village. The scenery was pretty with large boulders in the river affecting its flow and creating rapids. The background was high Andes mountains, some of them with snow covered peaks. Everything else was green and pure, with occasional large plain areas on either side of the river. As the train moved along the white waters of the Urubamba river, snacks were served on the train. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and excited to be visiting the Machu Picchu. Assortment of tourist groups were present. Some were singing, some were joking, some were photographing the scenery outside the large glass windows. Some were even sleeping, missing the joys of the journey possibly dreaming about the destination. After about one hour there was an announcement that the train would briefly stop at KM104. All those planning to join the Inca trail must get off immediately before the train started to move again. Eager to get out, anticipating freedom and fresh Oxygen, we moved out of our seats and got our backpacks ready, waiting next to the exit door. The train came to an abrupt stop. Some passengers including us, got off the train in a rush. The doors closed and the train left us in a hurry as if it felt, we had insulted it by getting off early. As we stood next to the river, absorbing some fresh Oxygen and taking in the natural surroundings, we were greeted by our wonderful smiling guide Eduardo. He is one of the best guides for anything Inca. He could be seen on many videos on You Tube. Somehow, we lucked out that for a small group of 3 people, we had him all to ourselves. Eduardo reminded us that we must safe guard all of our paperwork including tickets to the trail, round trip tickets for Machu Picchu express, buses from Agua Calientes back and forth, and the entrance tickets to the Machu Picchu. These things would be checked at many checkpoints and the service could be jeopardized if the papers were missing. Eduardo urged us to get started soon, as the trail was long with lot more interesting points during the course of the trail. We took some pictures with the sign displaying the KM104 stop and the beginning of the Inca trail. We crossed a narrow bridge above the Urubamba river and entered the forested woods. The river water, just fresh out of the Andean peaks, was gushing and rushing, as a nascent child just out of the mother’s womb wanting to go back. Angrily the river was bumping and colliding with boulders and rocks standing in its way. We could feel its awesome force and the light surf refreshingly hitting us on the face. Wasim reminded Eduardo, that they will try to keep pace with him, but I was the one who would be frequently stopping to take pictures. I would be testing Eduardo’s patience to its limit that day. He responded with a hint of a smile as if saying, bring it on. The Inca guides would do that trek few times a week, while it was first time for all of us on the Inca trail. There was no way we would be rushing the hike just to make our guide happy. The idea was to actually slow down and absorb the experience in its full essence. We took some pictures on the bridge and crossed over to the other side towards the forest. Like catapulting through a black hole during interstellar travel, crossing the bridge was similar to crossing over to a world 500 years ago. We were in Inca territory now. We were standing at the historic Inca trail that would take us to Machu Picchu so we could meet the Inca Royal family. Maybe have dinner with the Inca princess. But wait a minute! First we had to clear a modern-day check post with couple of security guards. Of course, they controlled the Inca trail now. It was not free any more. They controlled who could go and who could not. One must produce the paper permit to be allowed through the check post. There is a daily quota that cannot be violated. Security guard checked our passports while reading our names Wasif Malik, Wasim Khan, Fawad Khan. Khan! He exclaimed excitedly. Shahrukh Khan. Yes Shahrukh ‘Kakakaka’ Khan, we all smiled to share his excitement. Wasim said, my brother Shahrukh Khan. But the guard did not understand any English and uttered his name few times more in his excitement. That was a testimony to the power of the Bollywood superstar as an international Icon. Even Inca knew Shah Rukh. Wasim said, ‘Wasif bhai you don’t stand a chance with the Inca princess. This is Shah Rukh territory’. He motioned us towards the exit and sent us to take a hike. The trail disappeared deep in the rain forested jungle and beckoned us to follow. Excitedly we embarked on this historic trail that would take us to the promised land. Within minutes we arrived at an archaeological structure sitting at the river banks. These were ancient Inca ruins called Chachabamba. These ruins were discovered in 1940 at an elevation of 7120 feet. The guide explained that the Inca were deeply spiritual people. They would erect these structures in several places along the trails, for the tribal people to take breaks and indulge in prayers. There were couple of rooms with windows made from dark granite stones. I disappeared for a minute, to sit in the window opening with my hands on the Inca stones. I was trying to connect with the Inca spirit. Sitting on Inca stones, in the middle of the Andean mountains, in this rain forest, listening to the gushing sound of Urubamba river, with my hands firmly planted on the aged windows, I felt certain that we did indeed cross the bridge to another time zone many hundreds of years earlier. It felt far removed from the modern day civilization. Only to be brought back to the reality with Wasim’s voice. ‘C’mon Wasif bhai, you won’t find the Inca princess here. We don’t have all day. We need to move.’ We took some pictures and started to move again. I could foresee the dreaded climb that would take us to the top of the mountains. Inca were fascinated by heights and mountain tops. Eduardo had picked up the pace as the trail became inclined. The climb had started. Gradually my backpack started to feel like an unnecessary burden. I started to think about all non-essential items I had packed. Eduardo’s pace was relentless as if he was trying to wear us down and stamp his superiority in the Inca land. I started to feel the effects of the dehydration from the day before. There was no end in sight to the steep climb. It felt like climbing the stair way to heaven or may be hell in this case. Soon my breathing was out of control as I gasped and panted for more Oxygen. I motioned everyone to take a little breather. I sat on the ground with everyone gathered around me. After catching up my breathing a little, we started again. There was no end to the steep trail, rather the angle appeared to be getting steeper. Eduardo and his Inca legs did not care. Wasim and Fawad were marathon runners. I sat in the ground again with heavy breathing. Never the one to miss any chance at sarcasm, Wasim checked my backpack and exclaimed, ‘what do you have in the backpack, couple of Alpacas?’. I picked up his backpack and it felt so light. I realized that I did mess up packing my backpack. There was too much unnecessary stuff for many what-if scenarios. Wasim and Fawad volunteered to carry my backpack, until I would feel better. I was more than happy to take them on their offer. Starting the hike again with no backpack made all the difference. Soon I caught up with my breathing and able to keep pace with the rest of the gang. The challenging climb continued. We came to an opening in the trail and realized that we had managed to get quite high up in the mountain. The panoramic scene from this vantage point was unreal. The river seemed like a thin line at the bottom of the ground twisting and turning at the foothills. There were forested mountains all around us with clouds and fog descending on many hills. I could see a thin line way out there in the mountains as far as eye could see. Eduardo told us that this was our trail. It felt unbelievable that we had covered so much ground and gained so much altitude in the jungle. There was still long ways to go. I was not worried about my conditioning any more. The juices were flowing now, the legs were not complaining and the breathing was under control. I asked Wasim to give me his lighter backpack and he could still carry my heavier backpack. Smilingly he obliged. Regardless of whatever the rest of the world thinks about him, he is a such a nice guy.
The climb was relentless as if it were determined to bring us down to our knees. By now we knew how to handle it. The scenery and the eco system had energized us, and the mountain could not bring us down any more. We were maintaining a steady pace with occasional breaks. Whenever I wanted to break I would stop and start taking pictures. There were picturesque vistas all around all the time. By this time the river appeared just like a shiny silver silk thread laying loose on the green fabric. The thin faded line representing our trail still seemed to stretch to the end of the mountains. Eduardo continued to remind us to keep on going with minimum breaks, echoing the message.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep But I have promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep.
The hike continued and we were looking for another break. Suddenly we came across a beautiful water fall. The thundering water fall was about 50 feet high. The water was falling in a small pond that was formed in the available space, from where it was flowing down in a stream. Water was refreshing, cold and energizing. I felt high spirited after washing my face with the cool water. Many visitors to the trail had gathered around the fall. Many were lying down the ground soaking the ambiance to refresh themselves. The rousing sound of the water fall added another dimension to the jungle. We felt good now. We took plenty of pictures and started to move on. Sometimes the land would get flat to give our tired legs some relief but it was always followed by more steep ground, more steps and more climb. Regardless of the hardship that one endured, the scenery and the ambiance begged the hiker to behold and absorb it and become one with the nature by experiencing the jungle and the spirituality of this historic area. There was magic that would transform even the biggest cynic into a believer.
With each step of the hike, it kept getting better and more rewarding. About few miles before Machu Picchu, we got to another archaeological site that closely rivals Machu Picchu in its grandeur. This site was a clear testimony to the building genius of the Inca civilization. They did not waste any time in writing, studying or drawing. They just continued to build, one amazing site after the other, determined that each new site would outdo the previous one. The relentless pursuit to keep on building finally yielded the climactic citadel of Machu Picchu. This archaeological site along the Inca trail is called Winay Wayna. This was built in complete harmony with the rain forest, the steep mountain and the rich eco system. The elevation of this site is 8860 feet, that is about 1000 feet higher than Machu Picchu. If there were no Machu Picchu, people would come to Peru just to visit the Winay Wayna. Aptly meaning ‘Forever Young’, in the Inca Quecha language, it lived up to its name, as its beauty is truly timeless. It was located on a cloud forest, with the continuously changing scenery displaying varying shades, mist, fog and colors. Because of its location on the steep mountain side, there were short agricultural terraces rising high on the mountain side. There were two sets of houses and structures, surrounded by the terraces and connected by a steep stair case carved into the stone. The ever-present Urubamba river was visible several hundred feet down below. There were few fountain structures along the sides of the staircase. All the hallmarks of the classical Inca architecture could be found here. This site could have been the final spiritual or resting stop for the visiting royalty before arriving in Machu Picchu. Again, I felt for the Llamas who had to haul all of the heavy construction material to this remote area and then further to Machu Picchu. Observance of this mighty site, lends more credence to the alien intervention theory. These ruins had been sitting dormant in this most wonderful location for centuries. With tired legs the hikers and visitors would slowly walk through these ruins, on their way to the Machu Picchu, barely stopping to take some pictures and catch their breath as they tackle the intimidating staircase that has been carved in the hard mountainside. As a child eager to unpack a gift, at this stage of the hike, all of their focus would be to get to Machu Picchu, while neglecting this wonderful gem. I spent some time here, touched the stones and walls, walked around, took pictures, gave some rest to the aching legs, and resumed the hike, with anticipation and excitement of reaching the destination soon.
The next stop was a modern developed rest area along the Inca trail. There were some small structures, a large kitchen, and few restrooms. Many people were working there. Eduardo told us that for all the hikers that were doing the 4-day Inca trail, this place is the last rest stop for them before reaching the Sun Gate (Inti Punku in Quecha language) and the citadel of Machu Picchu. All those groups would be arriving at that site soon and the cooks were preparing fresh food for them. Eduardo showed us few tables where we would sit and eat our lunch that he had packed for us. It was basic food. Some chips, fruit and ham sandwiches which none of us would eat. Losing millions of calories during the long hike, our hunger was bordering on starvation, but we were utterly disappointed by our lunch. We knew that no more food will be available until we reach Machu Picchu and exit the main gate of the citadel. The foodie Khan brothers were getting agitated. The venue for the lunch was peaceful in the jungle, with sounds of various birds. There were trees all around with numerous varieties of local flora and fauna. Soon it was time to start the hike again. But not before we would pass another check post. The totally disinterested security guard checked our tickets and passports. Luckily no more Shah Rukh Khan sightings. The guard looked like he was ready to get his afternoon siesta sleep and may crash on the floor anytime. He rushed us out of the check post and we were on our merry way again.
We noticed 2 other groups of tourists huffing and puffing throughout the hike. They got off the same train as we did. They were going through the same pains as us. Repeatedly we kept taking over each other depending on which group was taking the rest and which group would be walking, until one fateful moment when our own Mr always-ready-for-action Wasim Khan noticed the lovely Inca guide leading one of the groups and whispered, ‘Wasif Bhai, there is your Inca princess.’ Where?’ I asked, ‘and how would you know?’ She is the guide from the second group that we keep passing, and there is too much happening here to be left to coincidence’, was his response. I asked him to explain little bit more. He said, ‘Look, you are here trying to connect with the Inca civilization of the old and find the Inca princess. Just 3 weeks ago we were just chatting, and boom, suddenly we have this plan to go to Machu Picchu. We kept switching the dates until we decided to do our hike today. What are the chances that the Inca princess is leading a group on the same day. It is no coincidence but rather destiny that is bringing all of us together. Let’s go and talk to her.’ I knew he was concocting all these stories. I looked at the direction he was pointing. After brief observation, it appeared to me that Wasim had some value in his argument and I became a believer in faith, destiny and everything else Wasim had to say. I complained to Wasim. ‘How come our group has the robot Eduardo with his strong Inca legs, fast climbing Llama like conditioning, unlimited knowledge, while this other group has the soft and gentle Inca princess whose mere presence vastly outweighs all of Eduardo’s professional qualities. Why you made such arrangements. We should have been with the other group’. He became apologetic in total agreement with me. He wanted to talk to the Inca princess for becoming our guide for the next day at Machu Picchu. Suddenly we had more important problem at our hands, rather than worrying about the lowly lunch, lack of drinking water, steep climb, aching legs and racing heart. All these issues went down the priority list before one could blink.
One thing we South Asians love is spice, and the hike and the scenery were suddenly spiced up. Be it Italian food, French food, or Mediterranean, we would insist to add spice and hot sauce to make a chicken tikka out of it. Aches and pains had vanished. Once again, the world was colorful and the grass was greener even on our side. Our new strategy was to continue the hike while staying close to the next group. Newly found competition caused some uneasiness in Eduardo as he was trying to assess the situation while narrating the Inca history. Poor guy had no idea about the recent development. Still his commentary was extremely valuable about the sites and the history. The other groups decided to take a break and so did we. Everyone would just sit in the ground and check out the scenery or take pictures during the break. Not to waste valuable time, Wasim approached the newly discovered Inca princess to strike a conversation. Apparently, they hit it off right away. Wasim waved at us to come over and introduced us. The other group members were looking at us with disdainful looks. They could sense an effort to hijack their guide. Their break was over and they started to move again. Following their lead, we ended our break as well. Wasim was in great mood following the encounter. I reminded him to focus on the trail. One wrong step and he would forget about the romantic weather and find himself hundreds of feet below, submerged in the freezing waters of the Urubamba river.
The exciting journey resumed once again, starting with, what else but more upward slope, exhilarating scenery, and stairs disappearing into the sky or so it seemed. There was little strength left in the grumpy protesting legs. Eduardo announced that soon we would be reaching the sacred Sun Gate. We started to hi-five each other having accomplished the mission. ‘Hold on to your horses’, exclaimed Eduardo, ‘Don’t celebrate prematurely. Last but by no means the least, we still need to tackle one last obstacle. This is the steepest stretch of stairs that we need to climb. Most people have to use both hands and feet to climb here. The nick name for this stair case is Gringo Killer or Monkey steps’. After hiking for another 10-15 minutes, we found ourselves in front of the epic Gringo Killer flight of stairs. Now, I was convinced that the Inca had a mean streak in them with a wicked sense of humor. They liked to torment. Just when one would feel that one had made it to the promised land, one was presented with this monster called the Gringo Killer. The steps were going up high in the clouds, random sizes and shapes, cut into the hard mountain stone, and designed to bring all visitors to submission. No matter who you were, big or small, rich or poor, elite or peasant, black or white, young or old, one had to submit oneself to the might of the Machu Picchu, be humble, and crawl on all fours, to finally earn the right to be in the presence of the mighty one. Wasim took off followed by Fawad. I gathered my breath and started climbing. The hands would go on the top stairs first followed by the feet on the lower step. Everyone was doing the monkey dance. This was serious monkey business. I kept climbing for what seemed like eternity. The legs were on the verge of breakdown. The end was coming, not for my legs but for the stairs. I noticed Fawad making video of my monkey dance all the way to the top, with Wasim next to him. They were cheering and urging me to keep going. ‘C’mon Wasif Bhai, you can do it. Don’t give up. Keep on going’, they said. I replied, ‘Guys don’t over react. I am fine’. They told me how beautiful the Citadel was looking. When I got to the top of the Sun gate, total exhaustion had taken over and I just laid down at the floor panting heavily with my tongue hanging out. I would only look at Machu Picchu after fully catching my breath and restoring my senses so I could fully appreciate the first sighting. I could hardly wait to get up and see the sight below but I controlled myself and caught my breath. The anticipation of what was about to unfold was over whelming. I got back on my feet and stared at the sight below. That first look created a memory that is permanently etched in the brain department that houses memorable moments. If life is supposed to be measured by counting those moments that take our breath away, then I just added few notches to the measurement gauge. During the course of writing this blog and describing the magnificence of all the wonderful sights of Peru, I had exhausted my vocabulary of all the adjectives. There are no more superlatives left as I wondered how to describe the sighting of Machu Picchu. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. But watching something live is worth a million words. And beholding the greatness of Machu Picchu right in front of you is priceless. There are no words adequate enough to describe what I was looking at. It felt as if I was a giant standing up at the Sun Gate, and the whole city of Machu Picchu, just laid down in front of me, like a toy city made up of tiny model structures. There were numerous structures of varied shapes and sizes scattered all over the mountain top. The mountain slopes are carved into multiple farming terraces. Way down below the sacred mountain is flanked by the protection of white water river on both sides. The mountain housing the Citadel is nestled on all sides with higher mountains with the Wayne Huyane providing the perfect backdrop. Everything felt pure and crisp green. It was as if all the elements had gathered to hold this centerpiece like the perfect diamond that is fitted in a perfect setting in the perfect ring. All the pieces of this jigsaw puzzle had fallen in place. Full kudos to the Inca scout, who selected this picture-perfect location to build their most coveted creation. Full kudos to the people, the alpacas, the Llamas and the Aliens who worked as a team to complete this most demanding of projects. I noticed people sitting at random spots around the Sun Gate, on the mountain slopes around it, with their legs hanging down and eyes fixed in a gaze. They reminded me of the song, ‘Dazed and Confused’. They were all transfixed to the sight laid out in front of them. They had been mesmerized. No one was talking to anyone except to focus on absorbing the scenery. The lunatic in my brain suddenly woke up to remind me. ‘Hey Wasif man!, can you notice that you are not the only person with a lunatic in the head. All these people sitting in a hypnotized state, have been taken over by the lunatics in their brains. All of us are in the same boat now. They will never be the same again. And you can feel assured that there are many like you in this world’. Blah, blah, blah he continued to boast. I was not listening to him. I was still feeling the magic and would not allow anyone including my own brain, to spoil the euphoria felt by my soul. Some Urdu poetry started to reverberate in my mind that can be loosely translated as, ‘life is held captive by the brutal shackles of time, however, we have been granted these precious moments of togetherness, that are free from those shackles. These liberating moments must not be wasted, otherwise one is destined to regret eternally.’ I was experiencing these timeless moments. Time stood still, and Einstein’s theory of relativity seemed to make all the sense. Until, of course, I heard a distant voice trying to penetrate my senses, ‘Guys we need to get down to the Machu Picchu before the site is closed and the last bus is gone. We need to get some pictures from the postcard spot down below’. Pictures! Did someone just say pictures. It was our guide Eduardo, trying to bait me. I could not resist his bait. Slowly we all got up and started to hike down from the Sun gate to the Citadel below. It was a tough 30-minute downward hike at steep grade, on tough rock filled pavement. Our knees could feel the heat. But the scenery of Machu Picchu changed every minute with respect to its grand surroundings. We kept hiking down until we got to the post card spot where it is obligatory for every visitor to take a picture with the citadel in the back ground accompanied by high mountains, clouds, mist, terraces, greenery, and few Llamas. Recounting my Llama induced ordeal couple of nights ago, I had developed a grudging respect for this animal and said Hello Llama every time I saw one. There are numerous spots offering awe inspiring views. Like being a kid in a candy store, all one has to do is place oneself between the camera and the Machu Picchu and a fantastic picture will emerge. Even a dead photographer could not spoil this picture. Few hours flew off quickly and soon it was time to leave. Eduardo urged that we should take all the pictures that day and the next day he would give us a detailed tour of the site, as we planned to get there early morning around 6 am. After exiting Machu Picchu and having hiked all day without a decent meal, Wasim’s priority had suddenly shifted to finding good food. Outside the Machu Picchu entrance, there was a small restaurant with basic fast food items but great views of the mountains. Next to the restaurant was located the only Hotel at the Machu Picchu mountain called the Belmond Sanctuary Lodge. The double story building looks normal from outside, but Eduardo told us that from inside it was a very fancy place with good food and fine dining. Nightly room rate was upwards of $1200. They did have a monopoly being the only hotel next to Machu Picchu entrance at the top of the mountain. While contemplating all this, Wasim had already chowed down a small meal at the fast food restaurant. But he wanted to try the food at Belmond as well. We walked through the Belmond door. It seemed really nice and fancy inside the hotel. Here we were, 3 South Asians, coming into the fanciest place anywhere in a 100-mile radius, all raggedly dressed, faces covered with dirt, carrying hiking gear and back packs. It was natural for immaculately dressed fancy hotel staff to be little suspicious. We asked for dinner and they seated us on a comfortable sofa set in the lounge. A waiter brought the menu to Wasim and clarified to him that all prices were written on the right side, perhaps wanting to make sure that we could pay for the dinner and were not conspiring to be washing dishes at the end of the day to pay for our bill. As soon as the waiter left menu with the bewildered Wasim, I and Fawad started to laugh and jokingly told Wasim, that he had to wash our share of dishes as well, the waiter did not think that he could pay for his dinner. There was no respect for him. Angered by all this Wasim confronted the waiter and asked him why he showed the menu pricing to him. Upon hearing this the waiter pretended to get confused as he had no answer for Wasim and started speaking gibberish and later apologized. We ordered the dinner, it was sumptuous. We all felt good. Wasim paid and tipped handsomely to every one including the bell boy and the door man. By the time we left the Belmond, they were all bowing down to him. The Belmond felt like another example where large multi-national companies had established monopolies to make money from Inca attractions. The same company also operated the Inca Rail that brought tourists to Machu Picchu. I wondered how all these big businesses were helping the Inca people to maintain their culture, and heritage as they filled their coffers cashing out the great Inca civilization.
Machu Picchu was discovered by American Archaeologist Hiram Bingham in July 1911. It has been claimed that the character of Indiana Jones, was loosely based on Hiram Bingham. Hiram Bingham used to wear the signature hat that Indian Jones (Harrison Ford) wore in all of his movies. Wasim was wearing a similar hat that day. The manner in which he gained the new-found respect, suddenly it dawned on the hotel staff that he was the second coming of Hiram Bingham, who was single-handedly responsible for discovering Machu Picchu and the existence of this fancy hotel and all their jobs.
As the Sun started to dive towards the horizon, it was time to descend to the small town at the bottom of the mountain called Aguas Calientes, the name inspired by natural hot water springs. Spanish language challenged people also call it Machu Picchu village. One can see a thin zig zag line going down from the top to the bottom. Buses are constantly running up and down this path to transport the millions who come to Machu Picchu every year. They don’t allow any private cars on this road. We stood in the line and got into the bus. Everyone needed to present their ticket to enter the bus. Although the road seemed thin at the top but is a comfortable 2 lane track for the large buses to easily maneuver the turns and the slope. The views of the mountains and the valley down below continued to change every minute revealing new perspective like a beautiful woman slowly removing her veil. In about 20 minutes we reached Aguas Calientes.
The little town of Aguas Calientes is a vastly under rated destination in Peru. Perhaps all visitors are occupied with Machu Picchu and they don’t pay attention to this little piece of heaven that is enveloped all around with high mountains, flanked between two rivers and hidden away from the rest of the world. The only way to reach this gem of a village is either on the Inca rail or hike up the mountains and then come down from Machu Picchu. Here the sunlight and the clouds perpetually play hide and seek. Thunderstorms with strong lightning are a daily occurrence. We got out at the main bus stop in the center of the town. There is a wild river running through the middle of the town ferociously hitting the large boulders and the side walls, making perpetual noise. There are few bridges to cross over to either side of the town. The population is less than 2000. We walked for about 10 minutes through many narrow lanes to get to our hotel and check in to our rooms. The rooms were very small but clean. When it rained the water kept leaking many places in the hotel lobby. The staff was friendly, smiling and helpful as always that more than compensated for any shortcomings. It had been a long day that started before the sunrise, tough and weary hike, and the exhilarating introduction to Machu Picchu. It was enough to inject fatigue into any one. We decided to take a quick hour long nap and then meet in the lobby to enjoy and find peace in this little piece of heaven around us. Our tour company had arranged a dinner for us in one of the local restaurants. The sole purpose of this town perhaps, was to cater to the needs and host the millions of tourists who visit Machu Picchu. Yet through all this daily mayhem, the town seemed to have developed its own identity, culture and community. We met our guide Eduardo at a regular restaurant and ordered our food. It was nothing special, but still rejuvenated our body and provided us with badly needed fresh supply of protein and other nutrients. Chicken seemed to be the meat of choice in this town. We finished the food, said good night to Eduardo and set out for the town discovery tour. The only thing moving fast in this town was the spinal river running through it. Everything else was slow paced. There was abundance of well-lit side street cafes and restaurants. Locals seemed genuinely happy. Everyone seemed to know everyone else. Kids were running around everywhere, playing games and being mischievous. There were beautiful street dogs with large furry hair. They fully blended with the local population. They were sitting outside the local businesses and sometimes would walk inside open restaurants as well. Locals treated them with love and respect. I noticed an elderly man sitting outside a restaurant with some chairs around him. He seemed like a local celebrity or possibly coach of the football team. Many passer byes would say hello to him and shake hands with him by sitting at one of the chairs to engage in idle chat. All of this created an uplifting atmosphere that was pure joy to observe. One would hardly find this kind of atmosphere in today’s concrete jungles where one would need to video chat the next person just to make eye contact, or one would need GPS directions just to cross the road. We were experiencing the old world charm in the new digital world of today. We kept walking late in the night and continued to soak the rich and retro vibes of this far away lost city. Of course, we did take another meal stop on a table right next to the local celebrity upon Wasim’s insistence who could not resist the full roasted chicken served over steaming rice. With our stomachs already full to the bursting seams, we saw Wasim devour the full chicken as if he had not had a meal in ages. We sat on the wooden chairs and chilled out watching the world go by in slow motion, until we found ourselves drifting over to this slow-motion world. Everything felt happy, calm and peaceful. In this day and age of digital advancements, everyone is looking for instant gratification. Super corporations with iconic visionary CEOs are rushing to out-fast each other and dish out their products on our favorite smart screens at lightning fast speeds beating each other by milli-seconds and then brag about it. One is compelled to ask, ‘What do we really gain by racing to get faster to nowhere. Everything is moving at warp speed, and before we know it, death is lurking around the corner. I would rather be sitting on the outside table on a nice cool breezy moonlit evening, in the roast chicken shop on the edge of the Urubamba river in Aguas Calientes, with real smiley faces, local football coach and happy street dogs. Nature and all life forms are in complete harmony as time stands still. This is how true happiness and peace must feel like’. Didn’t take long for Wasim to change the status of the chicken to an extinct species. Unwillingly we started to walk back to the hotel to get some rest and be ready for the early morning plan. As we maneuvered through the lively streets of the village, we felt we were moving towards a noisy area. Suddenly we found ourselves in front of an almost full-size soccer field that was brightly lit. This had to be the biggest piece of horizontal land in this up and down mountain town. And what did the locals do with this. Of course, they made a soccer field out of the most valuable parcel of real estate. No town in Peru would be considered legit, unless it had its own soccer field, even if it is cutoff from the rest of the world. People here are moderate Catholics but Soccer fanatics. Couple of teams were engaged in a fierce match. Many locals were sitting cheering their teams. We went inside the fenced area and stood there for few minutes and watched the exciting soccer game. By this time, we felt fully refreshed. There were no signs of any exhaustion from the long day. The beautiful town with the beautiful people had served their purpose well, being wonderful hosts as they transported the visitors inside their slow-motion world.
The shrill noise of that evil morning alarm tried to drag me out in the real world from the deep slumber. I cursed it and wanted to go back to sleep. But then I remembered Eduardo’s words, ‘Guys, be here early in the morning. There are long lines for the buses. We need to be at Machu Picchu as early as possible. So, we can complete our tour and be back to catch the train going back to Cuzco in the afternoon’. I could imagine him yelling at me, ‘Wake Up, Wake Up Buddy. Gotta catch the Bus and take more pictures’. Slowly I dragged myself from the clutching arms of the inviting bed. There were vicious thunderstorms outside generating loud noise and lightning. Rain is a normal facet of Aguas Calientes life. The natives accept it as part of their daily life. It does not affect their routine and they expect the same from the global visitors. We all got ready with our rain protective jackets and went out to the bus stop. The lines were really long and it was raining llamas and alpacas. We were appropriately dressed for the rain and enjoyed the feeling of pounding water as natural massage. Many buses were ready and the line moved fast. We got seated in our bus as it slowly started to crawl the zig zag path up the mountain. Once again, we were outside the entrance to Machu Picchu. But wait, Machu Picchu could wait, we had to feed first, specially Wasim, who complained to be starving. He needed another excuse to taste the grand breakfast at the Belmond. Dressed in his Hiram Bingham attire, he led us to the hotel entrance. The door man saluted him, opened the door for him, shook our hands and led us inside to be comfortably seated. It was as if an announcement was made that Hiram Bingham, their savior was in the hotel. Everyone showed up to greet Wasim and as a side effect we also enjoyed the VIP protocol. Breakfast was delicious and sumptuous with wide variety of items. Wasim seemed content and full with a satisfied look. We took out our entry tickets and once again entered that fabled city. Eduardo planned to give us a full tour today. Heavy rain was still pouring down. There were clouds and fog all around that were obscuring the views. Visibility was low and the city was hiding behind this mystic and dynamic shroud. Suddenly the Inca Gods appeared to have mercy on the thousands of visitors and decided to stop the rain. Gradually the Citadel revealed itself to the mere mortals, who had gathered to pay homage. Wind was strong and the clouds with 50 shades of grey, were moving up and down the mountains as if the Inca king was riding these clouds to inspect his kingdom. Observing the ever-changing views of Machu Picchu and the hovering clouds, was a breath-taking experience. We felt we were lucky to have cloudless views yesterday and a totally different perspective on the second day.
In the ancient Inca language Quechua, Machu Picchu means Ancient Mountain or Peak. It was built in the 15th century. It sits at an altitude of 7970 feet above the sea level. It covers an area of about 80000 acres with endless rows of terraced fields descending down the mountain slopes, that were used for agriculture and farming different crops. The Urubamba river is flanking the site hundreds of feet below. Many archaeologists believe that Machu Picchu served as a retreat for the Inca elite and the royalty. There are many elite style residences on the site. The dwelling of the emperor was also discovered away from the elite residences. Inca did not have any wheels, consequently no wheels were used at all in the construction of the city. Heavy stones weighing in excess of 50 tons were used in the construction of this city. They were moved up the mountain by thousands of humans and animals. These heavy stones were cut and chiseled to fit together to almost perfection. Interestingly Machu Picchu was never visited by the Spanish conquerors. They never found out about it. It is still a mystery why the site was abandoned. Well it is not abandoned any more. Today it has been globally voted as one of the seven man made wonders of the world. It was added to the UN world heritage sites register in 1983. Millions of people visit this site every year from all corners of the world.
Our tour started with the famous Sun Temple. It is an elliptical structure with spiritual significance situated next to the residence of the emperor. An altar rock is located inside the room. I wondered about what was sacrificed in this room. During the summer solstice the Sun would come directly through a window to shine at the rock. For the Inca it could mark the changing of the seasons to help them plan for agriculture and crop farming. Several religious structures are located on the north west of the site. Another building named The Principal Temple housed a carved stone temple. Next is The Temple of the Three Windows, which was found with broken pottery. It was concluded that Inca had practiced to keep broken pottery in this temple as some kind of religious tradition or practice. There was a giant rock located in the plaza that was named by Hiram Bingham as The Intihuatana. It was placed on the top of an elevated platform. Its purpose had been a mystery. The tour easily lasted more than few hours for a casual visitor. For archaeological buffs, several days could not be enough. Although I was fascinated by the history, but at that moment I was over whelmed by the beauty of my surroundings. Wind was pushing the dark and light clouds in all directions along the mountains and valley below. Machu Picchu or not, it was awesome scenery all around. As a nature lover I found myself shooting pictures continuously while missing some important details by our guide. Once having finished looking at the ruins, Eduardo told us about an exciting 40-minute hike through the rain forest to Devil’s Bridge. We had seen some pictures of the Devil’s Bridge that looked scary. One had to pass through a check post to go through to the trail. We all had to write our particulars on a large double page register. As we passed through the check post Wasim exclaimed, Wasif Bhai! I looked at him. He said, ‘You always continued to remind us to promote our country Pakistan, it is the country of our birth, our forefathers are buried there, many of highest mountains in the world are there, blah blah. I just noticed that in the check post register you wrote your country as USA. What happened? You forsake the country of your forefathers. Then he started his signature minute long funny rant where Fawad was laughing hysterically as I was getting roasted. I did feel little embarrassed as I tried to come up with lame excuses and then I joined the laughter riot. Every once a while it is a humbling experience for one to laugh at oneself. This hike took us through thick rain forested mountain edge with a steep drop on one side. It was exhilarating. We experienced the flora and fauna of the Machu Picchu, the city that had the abundant resources available from the surrounding rain forest. For the visitors the hike dead ends at the devil’s bridge. There is a large locked wooden door with small windows that prevents the visitors from going any further. About 30 feet behind the wooden door is a narrow piece of worn out wooden plank that connects the two edges of the trail. In the old times, hikers would have to cross the wooden plank to get to the other side. There is no support beneath the long plank other than thin air and steep drop to the other side of life. Even if the door were not present, none of us would dare to step foot on that fragile looking wooden plank, which some one very generously named ‘Bridge’. In reality it was a bridge that would connect the hiker to his or her creator.
On this second day I had forgotten to use the mosquito repellent and was wearing shorts and half sleeve t-shirt. We climbed up to a platform located higher than the ruins to take some pictures. I laid down on the ground to connect to the Inca land. Suddenly I felt something on my legs and arms. To my horror I noticed numerous tiny mosquitoes blanketing my arms and legs. Frantically I started brushing them off my body. As I wildly removed the pesky bugs I noticed scores of tiny bloody spots on my hands and legs. The realization dawned on me that my trip was complete at that moment. I had given my blood to honor the Inca tradition of human sacrifice. Numerous mosquitoes will graze the land of the Inca with my blood inside them, and I will be one with the Machu Picchu eco system. Perhaps I was qualified to meet the Inca princess now. Those mosquito stings left marks on my body that continued to itch for several weeks after my return. At that moment, I had exchanged the parting gifts with Machu Picchu and we would leave each other with more than mere memories.
Once having completed the tour of the magnificent ruins, Eduardo left us alone to wander by ourselves and get lost in that world. We took many pictures trying to cover all angles and venues with contrasting cloud background. As we were roaming aimlessly, we noticed another tourist group being led by the same guide we met the day before. Waseem went off to renew his connection, while I continued to wander around. At some point all good and bad things must end. Lazily and unwillingly we started walking towards the exit. I continued to breathe-in the scenery that would not be available for too long.
There was a lonely train anxiously waiting in the station below us at Aguas Calientes. It would transport us back to the civilization. In our own way it reminded me of Harry Potter and the last day at Hogwarts, when the magical train would take the wizard students from the magical world to the real world. Machu Picchu and Aguas Calientes formed an isolated world of their own and needed a magical train to connect with the reality. It was time for us to wind down our tour and take the bus going down one last time to the magic train. But wait, Wasim had other plans. Even the Inca gods could not force him to leave, until he would get his last supper at the Belmond Hotel. Our last Hurrah! He had discovered this fine establishment and he was going to milk it till the very last moment. Seemed like the hotel staff was equally eager to welcome the second coming of Hiram Bingham. Another hearty meal was waiting to be consumed and we dutifully obliged by attacking the savory lunch like a hungry pack of wolves. The hotel manager informed that VP of Belmond Sales would like to meets us and give us a tour of the hotel, so we could stay there for our next trip. We happily agreed and the happiness was only enhanced when we met the VP of Sales. She was a really nice looking VP, and impeccably dressed in professional attire. She greeted us with warm smile and asked us to come for the tour. The front facade of the hotel just gave the impression of a regular facility. But once we went past the dining areas towards the large rooms and suites, it was a different world, that was full of luxury and comfort. Everything was designed and furnished to fully blend with the Inca theme and the rain forest surroundings. There were large outdoor spaces with the rain forest in the back drop. Guests were soaking in the pleasant warmth of the sun that has been a tradition in these parts for hundreds of years. There was beautiful art work on the walls. The facilities seemed impeccable and spotless. We completed the tour, exchanged business cards, said good byes and walked outside the hotel towards the long lines waiting to catch the never ending chain of buses. Many other were also waiting to catch the bus that will take us to the Hogwarts express. Wasim was frantically looking for the bus ticket in his pockets. Buses would not allow anyone without the paper ticket. He had lost his ticket. He asked us to take the bus and he would hike down through the zig zag path and meet us at the train station. I suspected that he just wanted to hike down to train station and was using the lost ticket as an excuse. He is an avid hiker and would never miss any opportunity.
Both Fawad and I opted to rest our tired legs and found refuge inside the bus. As the bus slowly started to wind down the crooked path, I wondered how many times every day the bus driver had to traverse this path, and how many times a year. Did he still find any attraction or beauty in this drive, or whether he was totally desensitized to the magic of Machu Picchu. About 20 minutes later we disembarked the tired bus and started walking towards the magical train station. We went through a colorful vibrant market with numerous shops selling various kinds of Inca and Machu Picchu souvenirs and handicrafts that displayed the talent and the ingenuity of the local people. Exiting the market, we entered the small train station. I felt as if this was the most beautiful small train station that I had ever seen. It was truly worthy of the Hogwarts fantasy from Harry Potter, representing the magical city isolated from the world. It was very neat and clean, with hundreds of colorful flowers blooming all around us, surrounded all around by snow peaked mountains. A small coffee shop tucked in the corner serving fresh coffee with pastries and cookies reminiscent of a small swiss town. There were multi-colored, multi-cultural, multi-layered, worn out tourists in all shapes and sizes from all over the world. They had their backpacks clinging to them like lazy monkeys, eagerly waiting for the magic train to launch them back in the concrete jungle where they belong, so they may resume their jobs and start paying the chain of bills endlessly queuing right behind each other. Everyone had come here after planning for days, spending a lot of money, taking time off of work with the intention of experiencing a memorable and satisfying trip. But at the conclusion everyone seemed to be in a rush to get out of there as if they were in a prison. They all wanted to be the first one in the train, first one out of the train, first one inside the returning flight, first one out of the plane and on and on. The rush to get back to nowhere is mind boggling. But I guess that is human nature. I found myself joining this race as well. The departure time was getting closer but there were no signs of Wasim. Few minutes earlier it rained real hard for about 15 minutes with dark clouds and thunderstorms and I thought about Wasim hiking down from Machu Picchu. He must have gotten soaking wet. Soon I saw him and his hat, dramatically emerging from the foggy clouds and I thought about Hiram Bingham one more time. If the Inca princess can come back in today’s time, then why not Hiram Bingham. Always roaming at some corner of the world, he had Hiram’s spirit in him. The people at the Belmond hotel did not make a mistake in recognizing him. He said he loved the hike, enjoyed the rain while coming down the mountain and was ready for a hot cup of coffee. It was getting uncanny, Hiram would have said the same things too.
Finally, we all boarded the train, took our assigned seats and the train gradually started to move. Soon the beautiful scenery started to move outside the large windows with Urubamba river shadowing the train path, as tall mountains loomed and mused at the activities of tiny mortals. The sun was setting and the surrounding atmosphere was serene. If felt as if watching a movie being rewound. Everything that had happened earlier was being played in reverse. Wasim had dozed off, while I and Fawad had engaged in conversation with a lady from Miami who was a frequent traveler. We shared our travel stories. The train staff served drinks and some snacks. All these days keeping our motors running at full rpm was taking its toll on the body, that was sapped out of all energy as if attacked by the Dementors from Harry Potter. I felt going in and out of sleep frequently. After about 4 hours we reached the beautiful city of Cuzco one more time. It was dark and none of the scenery was visible. A car was waiting for us to whisk us to the comforting confines of the hotel. Quickly we refreshed ourselves and met in the lobby. It was decided to grab a quick dinner and go to sleep. We had to catch the flight to Lima next morning, and our bodies had threatened to go on a hunger strike, if we demanded any more energy out of them without giving them proper nourishment, full rest and a long stretch of uninterrupted sleep. Having gone through the rigors of last few days, they had fully earned the right to a complete rest. We had nice brick oven pizza at a nearby restaurant, got back to the hotel where our sapped bodies greeted the waiting beds in warm embrace as long-lost friends. Luckily this night was very peaceful and totally opposite to my previous night in Cuzco, when misery had struck and I spent more time in the bathroom rather than the bed.
I woke up fresh in the morning. After a hot shower and hot breakfast, the tiredness of the trip seemed to vanish. I had about 30 minutes left before leaving for airport and I still had to buy souvenirs for family and friends. I rushed to the main square in Cuzco across the hotel. Most of the shops were closed but I found an open shop that had a wide variety of souvenirs. The shop seemed to have wide assortment of colorful objects. There was lot of neat hand made stuff. Mostly it was hand made by Inca people. Sweaters, scarves, caps etc., made from Lama and Baby Alpaca wool are usually favored by the visitors. There was an elegant old Inca lady minding the shop. She seemed very kind and smiling. I picked up several items and asked her for the total. She showed me her calculator. Of course, my bargaining instincts took over and I made my counter offer. I did not haggle too much as I had lot of respect for the indigenous Inca people, for their culture, history and heritage. I paid her cash. She gave me a Cuzco coffee mug as a free gift and a big smiling hug. We could not verbally communicate, but fully connected at the human level. Kindness, humility, and respect with a smiling face is a global language, understood and reciprocated anywhere in the world. Wasim texted that it was time to go, so I rushed back to the hotel, packed my stuff, checked out and got into the waiting van. Said good bye to the friendly hotel staff and left for the airport. This trip had been going very smooth without any major hiccups until we got in to the plane to fly from Cuzco to Lima. Firstly, we waited in the plane for about one hour and there was no movement. The staff kept coming back with flimsy excuses and claiming that the plane will move any moment. Finally, it started to move and got to the runway but then slowly came back to the taxi area. Staff stories were different and inconsistent ranging from technical problems, windy conditions, bad weather in Lima etc. Passengers were becoming agitated. The plane started to move again and then came back in the taxi area and stopped. All these days we were meeting the nice and friendly Inca and Peruvian people. By that time there were no nice guys left in the plane. They started hollering, shouting and banging the cockpit door. Some women were crying. Passengers were getting suffocated and claustrophobic. The staff opened the exit door to let the fresh air inside. They also started to serve water to the passengers. But still there was no definitive reason given for the delay. After about 4 hours of waiting in the plane, the passengers were notified that now they were really going to take off. And take off it did, accompanied by loud clapping and cheers from everyone. We safely made it to Lima in about an hour. We had about 8 hours before our midnight flight back to Dallas. Wasim booked a room in the very fancy Lima Country Club, where I took a relaxing nap for couple of hours followed by a refreshing hot shower. The hotel had an exquisite hall offering fine dining, with a menu demanding us to splurge and splurge we did. We chatted, relaxed and savored as our last dining experience in Peru. Around 9 pm we checked out and called a cab to the airport. One last drive on the Lima Sharea Faisal. The city was alive, the streets were buzzing, horns were honking, traffic was heavy, and our cab driver was displaying his driving, swearing and maneuvering skills. We were all in a somber mood with hangover from the Machu Picchu and Inca trail hiking experience. We wanted this hangover to stay as much as possible and the memories to last in our minds for a long time without fading away.
After going through a routine check-in and security process, we all boarded the plane. We had different seat numbers. My seat was in the middle of two ladies, one of whom was sleeping under a blanket. Only her long black silky hair was visible. The other passenger smiled and made way for me to get in. Wasim exclaimed that he was jealous and if I could trade his seat. I asked him what are the chances that I would take this trade and he said, ‘None’. Smiling I said good bye to him and showed him his seat located right between two weight challenged guys. It was either feast or famine, terms that Wasim is well familiar with. He said, ‘how in the world I am going to ask them to move out, so I can get in.’ ‘Sounds like a problem that I don’t need to worry about.’ I responded with a big smirk. He exclaimed that he felt depressed. Laughingly I instructed him to share his depression with one of his heavy-duty travel mates and he would surely find a sympathetic ear and a big shoulder to lean on. The goddess of sleep took me over, soon after I settled down in my seat. That’s when I had the terrifying dream about the sacrifice of the Inca princess described in detail at the beginning of this write-up. The dream was over and I was still reeling in its aftermath. My heartbeat was fast and loud with heavy breathing and chest pounding. I looked at the overhead monitor displaying the trip information and noticed that the plane was crossing over from the Gulf of Mexico to the dry land of Texas. Immediately one bumper sticker flashed in the mind, ‘I wasn’t born in Texas but got here as soon as I could’. Peeking outside the window I noticed the radiant face of the girl on the next seat. The blanket had slipped down and sunshine was reflecting on her face. I was suddenly taken back in a shock. This was the face of the Inca princess from my dream that was being taken to the sacrifice altar. The radiant skin, the Inca features, the flowing black hair, everything was identical except for the attire. Of course, she would not be dressed inside an airplane as the royal princess. I continued to gaze and suddenly she opened her beautiful dark eyes reflecting the colors of twilight outside the plane. Feeling embarrassed I was taken aback and pretended to be looking outside the window. She looked outside and noticed the land below. She took out her camera and started to take pictures. Then she looked at me with a smile. I smiled back and asked her name. She did not understand English. We started to communicate via sign language and of course Google translate. I found out that she was a Peruvian living in Lima city. She was visiting some family in the USA. And she would be returning in couple of weeks. We exchanged telephone numbers and she asked me to contact her on my next visit to Peru. She was very gracious and friendly. The plane landed and we got out together. Wasim was calling me from his seat but I totally ignored him. I assisted her a little with her baggage and customs and gave her directions to her connecting flight. We hugged and took a selfie before saying good bye. Wasim came to me and asked ‘What the heck is going on Wasif Bhai’. I told him that I finally met the Inca princess and now my trip was complete. He said that the trip was complete when we hiked the Inca trail and reached Machu Picchu and sacrificed our blood to the mosquitoes. But for me this was the last piece of the puzzle that had to be joined together with the rest of the pieces. We hugged, said good bye and took our individual cabs.
Epilogue: As I stretched and make myself comfortable in the back seat of the cab, I heard the radio playing U2, ‘Still haven’t found what I am looking for’. Reflecting on the melodious song, I thought that everyone is looking for something, be it the truth, the creator, love, reality, the Divine Being, a purpose, or just one’s own self and they are all struggling to find it. Whether it is U2, Rolling Stones looking for satisfaction, Faiz Ahmad Faiz trying to clear the restlessness of his heart, or Ghalib wondering how to cure the pains of his soul, and countless other thinkers contemplating the same age-old question. The simple answer could be found in the centuries old text in the poetry of the Sufi Saints of South Asia. The saints advised that there is no need to travel far distances, scale high mountains, suffer in the desert, or brave high seas to satisfy the quest. All one has to do is to look within one self. The answer lies deep within one’s heart and soul. Don’t go external but rather reach out to the internal. Keep it close to the chest. I traveled through the length and breadth of the grand country of Peru in my quest to meet the Inca princess. But in the end I met her right here in Texas. Should have followed the advice of Baba Bulleh Shah and save myself the trouble.
So long dear readers from Wasif Malik and the Lunatic, till we meet again. I leave you to enjoy a sample of translation of Bulleh Shah poetry from the Punjabi language.
Yes, Yes, You Have Read Thousands Of Books,
But You Have Never Tried To Read Your Own Self,
You Rush In, Into Your Temples, Into Your Mosques,
But You Have Never Tried To Enter Your Own Heart,
Futile Are All Your Battles With Satan,
For You Have Never Tried To Fight Your Own Desires
Disclaimer: No animals were intentionally or unintentionally harmed during the preparation of this travelogue except for those eaten at the restaurants.
Special Thanks. Maham Sajjad, Upama Phuyal, Wasim Khan, Fawad Khan
Previous Home Top All Pictures
Day 1 Lima – Day 2 Cuzco – Day 3 Ollantaytambo – Day 4,5 Machu Picchu
The Lunatic Travels by Wasif Malik 