Machu ado about something

Machu Picchu – and it lives upto all the hype! Must admit I was a cynic – and came along since I had come so far (and not to come to MP would be a travesty). Another desperately early start as I hobbled across to the bus stand at 0545. Lines of sleepy fellow tourists were already there. We were herded onto a minibus – for the winding 8km 25 minute ride up Machu Picchu mountain (Old Mountain in Quechua).

Green forests, the mountain tops wreathed in mists and a twisting muddy track that left AC far far below in a matter of minutes. I was right at the back of the bus; so naturally I didn’t dare look over my shoulder. My neighbour was a tour guide who informed me that the last Indian he had seen here was 2 years ago – the Doshi family from Pasadena, California. I counted 15 minibuses coming down – so that meant there were 300 people up there already (and I thought 0545 was early!). My neighbour informs me that we would expect around 1500 people today (including the day trippers from Cusco – who come in around 11am). In high season(May-Jul), figures hit 4000.

Stumbled out of the bus into a crisp morning at the top – and bumped into Lourdes and a stringy Argentine youth (bf? would be bf??)...Also met a couple of other girls from my Sacred Valley tour (this is turning out to be a regular package tour!!). We then went in through the gate and there it was in front of us with Huayna Picchu looming in the background (that’s the SugarLoafy mountain in the picture postcards – and it means “Young Mountain” in Quechua). MP looked serene in the early morning light – there were a few people wandering around but there was a sense of solitude; of something mystical. The ruins themselves are probably quite small (500mX300m) but it’s the setting that makes it special – perched atop a 3000m high mountain and surrounded by other equally high mountains draped in a velvet green; a delicate mist hovering above the mountains and a powdery blue sky above.

The ticket was for the entire day but we had a guide for the first couple of hours. He seemed determinedly Quechua; even wearing colourful 'headman' headgear and a poncho. He was particularly severe on a bunch of Brit kids in our group; “don’t sit there – this is a sacred place”, “no smoking – see the back of your ticket”. Of course, they promptly DID see the back of their tickets and found no such line – but good naturedly cracked a few jokes amongst themselves. There was also this fat American who had got a James Brown doll and dressed him up like a Quechua and was busy photographing him everywhere – a la Amelie.

Walked around a lot – and Sir Jeffrey Hillpyg Smyth was a real boon (he’s my walking stick by the way!). By early afternoon, the clouds had descended and the mists rolled in; followed by a fine rain. It just added to the atmosphere (surprisingly, despite the large number of tourists, MP was able to absorb the lot – barring a couple of spots it didn’t feel crowded at all).

Back to AC in the afternoon – a rainy, bumpy slightly scary ride down in the mini-bus. The track is narrow, so we had to back up a few times to let uphill buses through (it was close to 1pm and they were still coming!). Met this German lady on the train back to Cusco. Interesting way of getting the conversation going! I was wearing the white wristband Anu had given me – “make poverty history”. Claudia (“easy to remember my surname – its Warning!”) asked if I worked for the programme…I explained how I got it and turns out she works in Development (in Bonn) and was jointly responsible for the programme a couple of years ago. She now works a lot with rural women (Peru was one such trip – MP being a day distraction for the team). She visits India 3-4 times a year, lives in Andheri and travels by 2^nd class in Mumbai’s suburban trains! She also talked about India in relation to other countries; India has a strong legal framework to support developmental work, co-operatives etc. but “the problem”, she said, laughing heartily, “is in operationalising the framework – and doing things!”. We got back to Cusco around 10pm (those switchbacks again to help us descend into a brightly lit Cusco). Marleny was waiting at the station – with tickets in hand for my bus journey tomorrow morning to Puno; on the shores of Lago Titikaka.