A few days after Christmas, we headed out to the Sacred Valley 
for a three-day trek to Aguas Calientes/Machu Picchu. Our first leg was on a crazy locals bus for six hours to the small town of Santa Maria. We passed through the high mountain pass of 4500m (can’t remember the name), and after descending about 1000m, stopped to let the bicyclers out. Some of the tour packages here involve a 3-4 mile downhill bike ride to get to Santa Maria. We were frugal and a little concerned about the shoddy condition of the mountain bikes and the way these maniacs drive down hairpin turn, landslide-prone dirt roads in the pouring rain, so we rode the bus the rest of the way down and relaxed in Santa Maria. Max shared the secrets of the card game “Truco” with Victoria and I. When everyone showed up all covered in mud but happy I had mixed feelings about missing out.
We stayed the night in an interesting hostel. There was maybe some hot water if you could flip the electric switch with wires hanging out inside the shower stall (which was also the rest of the bathroom) and not get shocked. I took an icy cold one. Luckily it was really hot outside: we are pretty much in the jungle at this point.
EARLY the next morning we joined Juan Carlos (AKA JC, our guide) and two other soon-to-be pals Sara and Grant for a breakfast of bananas-wrapped-in-pancakes and omlettes, and headed out on the trail. For most of the rest of the trek we followed a raging, chocolate milk river (can’t recall the name at the moment and don’t have the map nearby). We trekked through old Santa Maria and two other old towns that were washed away in the great El Nino of 1998. Most of these towns that were decimated by this raging El Nino season were (very quickly) rebuilt on higher ground. Judging by the raging river we saw in this normal rainy season, I can imagine that an especially rainy year would be insane.
After starting a steep incline up the sides of the river valley, we stopped for a rest at the Monkey House, and then continued up, up, up the hillside. Part of this route was an Inca trail. THE Inca Trail is in another valley and supports about 500 trekkers per day, which is why we chose this alternate route. Anyway, this narrow trail was carefully built up with layers and layers of rocks, with a sheer cliff both above and below you. Basically: don’t trip! Finally we headed down, down, down to a little town where we had the second best soup of this trip (and, quite possibly, of our lives) – sopa de criolle (which translates as creole soup, but this was nothing you would find in New Orleans or anything). The other best soup ever, incidentally, was the French onion soup at the nunnery/restaurant in Lima (see the 1st blog entry).
Back to the jungle…
We continued along the river after the lunch for a few hot, sweaty, uneventful hours until we reached the long-awaited cable car ride. Victoria and I were having second thoughts based mostly on the raging river, but after watching Sara and Grant make it safely to the other shore, we went for it. This was a sturdy, cable stretched across the river with a little metal basket for you and your bags. It was crazy fun - check out the video of Max and Victoria's trip!
Mind you, this is ALL one day so far. We were absolutely haggard. JC keeps saying 30-40 more minutes, 20-30 more. Then we arrived at the paradise that is Santa Theresa hot springs.
Hot pools have never felt so good in the hot jungle. It made the harrowing day all worth it. After soaking for a few hours we splurged ($1.50 US) on a minibus ride up the hill to the town of Santa Theresa where we spent the night in an even more interesting hostel. Ew.
Check back soon for part II: Machu Picchu.
for a three-day trek to Aguas Calientes/Machu Picchu. Our first leg was on a crazy locals bus for six hours to the small town of Santa Maria. We passed through the high mountain pass of 4500m (can’t remember the name), and after descending about 1000m, stopped to let the bicyclers out. Some of the tour packages here involve a 3-4 mile downhill bike ride to get to Santa Maria. We were frugal and a little concerned about the shoddy condition of the mountain bikes and the way these maniacs drive down hairpin turn, landslide-prone dirt roads in the pouring rain, so we rode the bus the rest of the way down and relaxed in Santa Maria. Max shared the secrets of the card game “Truco” with Victoria and I. When everyone showed up all covered in mud but happy I had mixed feelings about missing out.
We stayed the night in an interesting hostel. There was maybe some hot water if you could flip the electric switch with wires hanging out inside the shower stall (which was also the rest of the bathroom) and not get shocked. I took an icy cold one. Luckily it was really hot outside: we are pretty much in the jungle at this point.EARLY the next morning we joined Juan Carlos (AKA JC, our guide) and two other soon-to-be pals Sara and Grant for a breakfast of bananas-wrapped-in-pancakes and omlettes, and headed out on the trail. For most of the rest of the trek we followed a raging, chocolate milk river (can’t recall the name at the moment and don’t have the map nearby). We trekked through old Santa Maria and two other old towns that were washed away in the great El Nino of 1998. Most of these towns that were decimated by this raging El Nino season were (very quickly) rebuilt on higher ground. Judging by the raging river we saw in this normal rainy season, I can imagine that an especially rainy year would be insane.
After starting a steep incline up the sides of the river valley, we stopped for a rest at the Monkey House, and then continued up, up, up the hillside. Part of this route was an Inca trail. THE Inca Trail is in another valley and supports about 500 trekkers per day, which is why we chose this alternate route. Anyway, this narrow trail was carefully built up with layers and layers of rocks, with a sheer cliff both above and below you. Basically: don’t trip! Finally we headed down, down, down to a little town where we had the second best soup of this trip (and, quite possibly, of our lives) – sopa de criolle (which translates as creole soup, but this was nothing you would find in New Orleans or anything). The other best soup ever, incidentally, was the French onion soup at the nunnery/restaurant in Lima (see the 1st blog entry).Back to the jungle…
We continued along the river after the lunch for a few hot, sweaty, uneventful hours until we reached the long-awaited cable car ride. Victoria and I were having second thoughts based mostly on the raging river, but after watching Sara and Grant make it safely to the other shore, we went for it. This was a sturdy, cable stretched across the river with a little metal basket for you and your bags. It was crazy fun - check out the video of Max and Victoria's trip!Mind you, this is ALL one day so far. We were absolutely haggard. JC keeps saying 30-40 more minutes, 20-30 more. Then we arrived at the paradise that is Santa Theresa hot springs.
Hot pools have never felt so good in the hot jungle. It made the harrowing day all worth it. After soaking for a few hours we splurged ($1.50 US) on a minibus ride up the hill to the town of Santa Theresa where we spent the night in an even more interesting hostel. Ew.The next day was a long walk along the road that hugs the valley wall with the river below. We came across the old hydroelectric plant, a huge waterfall
pours out of a hole busted through the mountain. It was powerful. We also saw the old tracks and tunnels for the train that used to run along this river. It too was washed away in the Great El Nino Year, and now the train only runs through the other valley to Aguas Calientes. After lunch in the town of Hydroelectrica (home of the new hydroelectric plant), we walked for a few hours along the railroad tracks and finally, FINALLY reached the AC. Dad and Margaret were waiting for us with a luxurious hotel room with clean beds and all the hot water we wanted. It was paradise.
pours out of a hole busted through the mountain. It was powerful. We also saw the old tracks and tunnels for the train that used to run along this river. It too was washed away in the Great El Nino Year, and now the train only runs through the other valley to Aguas Calientes. After lunch in the town of Hydroelectrica (home of the new hydroelectric plant), we walked for a few hours along the railroad tracks and finally, FINALLY reached the AC. Dad and Margaret were waiting for us with a luxurious hotel room with clean beds and all the hot water we wanted. It was paradise.Check back soon for part II: Machu Picchu.
