Over Machu Picchu? I’ll never get over Machu Picchu!

January 20, 2007

The morning of Day 4 found me and my little band of merry brothers, and sisters, perched at the Sun Gate, high over Machu Picchu.

The Incans were big on the Indiana Jones trick of lining things up so that on a solstice or equinox the light of the sun would slit through some combination of rocks, illuminating some hidden sacred chamber, telling them it was time to plant, or harvest, or maybe sacrifice a virgin or a llama, or a virgin llama, or just a hairy virgin. The Sun Gate is one of their better tricks. It is perched high up on the mountainside overlooking Machu Picchu forming the last stopping point or guard post on the Inca Trail and – if your socks are still intact – a place to get that last knock-your-socks-off view of the fabled Incan city below. It is also precisely situated so that the first rays of the rising sun pass through the Sun (get it?) Gate, down into the window of the high priest in the city below. Kind of a pre-Columbian wake up call. Unfortunately, it was wrapped in fog when we arrived, so we saw nothing, but in theory it was pretty awe-inspiring.

Actually, when you think about it a moment, the civilization that built the Incan Trail and Machu Picchu surely had the ability to count up to 365 ¼. No way did they really need all those elaborate stone constructions to nail down the seasons, plantings and harvests. I expect it was just some priestly theater, but pretty good theater at that.

After waiting futilely for the sun to appear, we walked (or in my case – hopped) the last half mile or so down to Machu Picchu. There, we reunited with spouses and tour group mates and toured the place. About Machu Picchu itself, rather than slinging more of my diminishing supply of adjectives, I’ll just say it doesn’t disappoint. Definitely a wonder of the world, and well worth the visit. If I ever get around to posting photos you can judge for yourself.

After getting our fill of Machu Picchu we took a bus down the final 1,000 foot descent into Aguas Caliente. The ride down is an experience in itself, as it is a series of hairpin cutbacks crisscrossing the mountain face. The local kids have a nice little racket. They chase the buses down the hill, showing up at each switchback to run yelling frantically in front of the bus. Of course, they follow a staircase going straight down, so it isn’t all that difficult. Once at the bottom, they board the buses and hit up the passengers rather aggressively for contributions. Everyone else thought it was real cute, but in my contrarian way I found it objectionable – effectively we were paying a third world 10-year old pocket change to risk death or serious injury for our amusement. So what is the morally correct thing to do in this situation? Stiff the kid? Write a letter? You tell me.

So at the bottom we arrived at Aguas Caliente, which is actually a funky little tourist town on a raging river, and worth a couple of hours. Just don’t go into those caliente agues (hot baths), since they are reputed to be muy skuzzy. We then took a scenic train and bus ride back to Cuzco. Thus endeth our excursion to the land of the Incas.

Your faithful correspondent,

Walkabout Dave