Thursday, June 12, 2008

location, location, location

macchu pichu has been one of, if not, the focal points of this trip ever since we decided to come to south america. conversely it has, for me at least, been the one thing which i most feared would end up being grossly anticlimactic. we´d already suffered one major disappointment even before leaving what i hear is not so grey england when discovering that the inca trail was completely booked out. a quick word on this: of all the myriad tour agencies lining the streets of cuzco not one offers the original trail on their billboards any more. the trail is now exclusively booked by people who are organised enough to know where they are going to be in three months´ time, a concept which is anathema to me when on a long trip. one of the main pleasures of being away for an extended period of time is the luxurious flexibility all that time allows you, and prebooking a trip that far in advance seems the complete antithesis of such a philosophy. i suppose my gripe is that the inca trail used to be the archetypical backpacker trek: now it´s the middle aged pre-bought tour route, with everyone else effectively crowded out by what, dropping euphemism, i suppose is a lack of organisation as well as price. a shame, because it looks and sounds an amazing way to head up to the site and anyone who has visited macchu pichu any other way and maintains they wouldn´t have done the inca trail anyway is lying to themselves.
we had arranged to get a train to aguas calientes, the little village at the base of the mountain which looms over the ancient city. on arrival we were greeted with utter darkness following a power cut and, dismally, rain. having had nothing but sunshine and blue skies for the last ten days neither of us were prepared for the wet (me in particular: shorts and sandals, what an absolute chimp) and so we clambered into bed that night cursing by candlelight. still when we woke the next morning at 5am, it was grey but mercifully still dry. bleary eyed we clambered onto the bus up the mountain and at 6am we got out first glimpse of the picture postcard macchu pichu image, the distinctive rock face behind the patchwork of dilapidated stone buildings. as the day progressed we ran the gamut of weather, from grey clouds, to frustrating drizzle to blazing sunshine, allowing us to continually renew our visual acuaintance with the city tempered by a variety of different, equally appealing, looks.
macchu pichu didn´t disappoint, although arguably only to an extent: the ruins themselves are relatively primitive when compared to the ancient hindu kingdoms or egypt (all of which would predate macchu pichu by a considerable amount). the most impressive thing was the location, on a mountaintop wreathed by clouds, a completely ethereal setting that was simultaneously divine when grasping for the gods and practical in being hidden from prying conquistador eyes. an absolute must see for sure, but compared to angkor wat or ellora? i suppose these kinds of comparisons are always fraught with inaccuracy so i´ll simply conclude by saying macchu pichu in its own right has plenty of jaw dropping, and lung busting, moments of the kind that accumulate to make grubbily travelling around for months on end totally worthwhile.
after a six hour bus journey we are currently in puno, a unpleasant little town whose chaotic brickwork buildings and grimy streets are not quite redeemed by its glorious setting 3,800m above sea level on the banks of lake titicaca. not even the parade which seems to involve every single school child in southern peru (and every trumpet player in south america) makes it worth staying so we will be crossing into bolivia tomorrow.