Month: April 2010

For a much of the journey thus far in Latin America, I’ve heard that Lima not much more than a megalopolis where one wouldn’t want to linger long. True, from the surface, much of Lima does appear to be a bee hive of random humanity in a rush about nowhere. However, much to my delight, there are subtleties to the city and life here that merits mention, even given the little time I’ve been here. There is much more here than meets the eye; and … given that this trip is nearing its interim conclusion in 3 days, I’d rather enjoy myself with little attention and fanfare wandering among the Limeños, lost along with the 8 million locals here.

Yesterday was largely consumed with less touristy affair and rather more the lazy Friday routine amongst the locals: beach, civiche, Monestario Francisco, dinner, cinema

After spending almost two months wandering at such forbidding heights of the Andes, the time is nigh to venture on. So it is with sweet farewell that I bid my last adieus to fabled Cusco after wandering her bustling and scented alleyways one last time. Yesterday was mostly spent wandering aimlessly, people-watching the strange mixture and commotion of locals and tourists, then wandering the artisan markets to imbibe the traditional colors and crafts.

Walking the outskirts of town, it is not difficult to notice the disparity from the more touristed main plazas. Here and there the chaotic traffic honks, the air chokes, vendors ply their goods on streets, the indigent lay listless begging, the scent of food cooking waft through the air, here and there abandoned tires litter by the train tracks; all in all, it is a strange mixture of good and bad. Some how, despite or because of it all, Cusco has endeared itself to this wanderer.

After one last meal at the artisan market, I taxied to the central terminal and secured a 23 hour, over-night bus ticket bound for Lima. Though the bus was mostly modern and well-equipped, I did have some misgivings about the journey – and debated flying for better part of the day – as it would entail winding down from over 10,000 ft in the Andes down to sea level at Lima, all over circuitous mountains paths. Perhaps it would have been better to fly as it would have taken only about an hour; but, in the end I did save some money. And so with the sites and scenes imprinted in memory, I stared pensively at the passing streets of Cusco as it slowly faded behind in the road.

It is always a stark contrast of sorts changing locales suddenly. Lima seems a far removed world from Cusco. It is a bustling modern metropolis of 8.5 million, complete with all the trappings of any large city, including global corporate storefronts dotting the boulevards. In a way, Lima is almost an oasis in a barren landscape; as the road leading up to Lima evinced nothing but vast stretches of desiccating landscapes with nary a brush growing on some of the driest stretches anywhere on earth.

After soem 23.5 hours, the bus slowly approached the near suburbs of Lima. Curiously, the remote areas of town are dotted with urban slums and shacks. By comparison to La Paz, Bolivia, which is entirely built on unstable sandstone and pebbles, Lima’s vicinity seems to be built on top of pure dry sand. Yet, amid this vast dry stretch along the southern Pacific coast, a vast capitol pulses to the beat of each human footstep. The city buzzes, the people chatter, the lights flash. This city will show her character in the few days I have remaining on this trip. I yet have time enough to explore a bit.

As the final few days scheduled in Cusco pass, much of the time has been spent idling about the plaza, people-watching with a cup of juice at hand to while the time. Despite the frenzied happenings of tourist traffic here, the locals removed from the main industry seem to enjoy a more idyllic life. There is a certain envy in their slow approach; and mindful of this, I teased out the remainder of my time here with a day trip to the Moray ruins. Nestled a few miles away from the town of Maras some short distance from Cusco, this idyllic countryside ruin holds much mystery yet.

The trip on the outbound bus traversed, again, through some high ridges looking down on brilliantly pied spring valleys. The verdant hills unfolded into the distance, the glaciers clung to the high mountains, cattle and goats grazed alone the pastures. Dotting the landscape were local farmers out tending their stock, their vestments glistening iridescently in the incident sunlight. For all its color and variety, poverty and wealth… for sure this nation’s natural beauty is what will stay with my mind most.

The Incans seemed to built this vast complex at Moray as a proto-agriculture laboratory. The concentric pits descend more than some 35 meters down, causing a temperature gradient as much as 15 C. The entire complex has a intricate irrigation system that can flood each terrace. Apparently, this was used by the Incans to experiment with ideal conditions for different crops and to hybridize strains of crops. It’s a marvel to gaze and reflect on genius of the Incans and how advance this civilization was before the Spanish invasion. They were indeed, in some ways, so much ahead of their time.

The myth and mystery that is Machu Picchu will be forever concealed under the lost footprints of its Incan past. The splendid relics that do remain is simply awe-inspiring, as much for its magnificent architecture and jaw-dropping locale as for the sheer audacity of the Incans to even consider building a city here, let alone actually accomplishing the impossible feat. It remains where the Incan architects laid their plans, 8,000 feet high in the thin air of the Andes, yet surrounded by tropical jungle. After nearly 500 years, it survives alone as the only site unblemished by the Spanish greed and spoliation (because they never founded); standing solemnly to echo the tale of the ancient Incans.

After the previous evening tortuously dangerous hike, the intrepid/insane group arose at 4:30 in the morning to queue up for tickets to Machu Picchu before the crack of dawn. Despite not having eaten a proper meal in some 30 hours, a few of us decided to head straight for Wayna Picchu peak perched behind the ruins in the classic iconic photo of Machu Picchu. The climb is extremely steep well over a thousand feet above the ruins themselves. After an hour of difficult climb we were treat to a most glorious view of the entire region as the fog drift to and fro, covering and uncovering the monuments below.

I remained atop Wayna Picchu for well over two hours to explore its subtle cracks and crevices, impressive architecture, and spectacular panaramic views. It is said that the Incan high priest resided here, and would ritually descend to Machu Picchu in the pre-dawn darkness to ceremoneously usher in the Sun God each day. One can imagine the perilous journey down in the clouded darkness.

Around 10 am, the fog finally broke sufficient to explore the remainder of Wayna Picchu — itself littered with classic Incan stone work, houses, terrace farms, temples, etc. I eventually descended back to the main site below to explore in detail. The aura and atmosphere of Machu Picchu is unmatched. Though, Angkor Wat as a whole has more impressive architecture, the indescribable location and terrain of Machu Picchu is utterly unique. The technical excellence and intricacy of the limestone dovetail each other with surgical precision; so much so that modern technology cannot duplicate their precision. The vast majority of the joints will not permit even a thin paper to penetrate.

From the main plaza, I then ascended the southewestern terraces where the Incan grew a vast variety of crops to support this mysterous citadel. To date, no one is sure what Machu Picchu was really built for, though there are numerous competing theories. What is known is that it became a bastion and refuge for the Incans after the Spanish conquest; though this refuge didn´t last long and soon after Machu Pichhu was abandon to time and forgotten memory until being ¨rediscovered¨ in 1911.

This is a tale of daring and determination. Part and parcel of the perils of the path

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The last two days have had heavy rain in the Cusco region. Seeing as the uncertainty of Machu Picchu was still present, I opted to see all the major ruins within the vicinity of the city. A short taxi ride took me to Tambomachay some 10 km outside the city, from which I descended the hilly terrain back towards the city, stopping to see Pukapukara, Qenqo, and finally the impressive fortress of Saqsayhuaman immediately outside of town. The weather turned as soon as I arrived at Tambomachay and rained the remainder of the day, drenching me the entire trek back to the city.