Machu Picchu, Peru, South America - Venture Magazine Issue #3 Pages
4-7
Inca-redible
What is it that draws so many travellers to the famous Inca ruins at Machu Picchu? Eric D. Lehman puts his lungs and legs to the test making the trek, discovering that it was something en route that truly moved him...
I needed a distant island, an alien wilderness, a World Wonder. I was nearing the age of thirty and was sinking in thoughts of a youth ended, or, God forbid, the first stirrings of middle age. I’d never wanted to experience the world more. Sure, I’d travelled to the likes of England, Mexico and Canada, and even crisscrossed the United States several times, but I wanted to go somewhere legendary.
Five months later, my friend Johann and I were huddled in a tent amongst Inca ruins, exotic agave plants and piles of fresh dung. Peering out, we could see across a misty Peruvian valley to unbelievable emerald peaks, vertical faces broken with inaccessible hanging valleys and sheer cliffs. Cows from a nearby farm had climbed the steep, flowered slopes high above us, seemingly ready to tumble down on our heads. Machu Picchu was only a few days away.
Earlier we’d travelled by road from the colourful city of Cusco to the starting point of the legendary Inca Trail, near the village of Ollantaytambo. While trekking through the Cusichaca river valley, we gazed upon impossible rocky heights and the scattered ruins of a mighty civilisation. I had been enjoying myself thoroughly until I realised with horror that I was in terrible shape. My will was strong, but my lungs were weak. As we continued, it was only the astonishment elicited by the constant onslaught of beauty around me that stopped my body dreading the ensuing physical challenge.
Rain pattered on the roof of our green cocoon. Inside, our backpacks were piled around us, still slightly wet from an earlier shower. Johann was sprawled on his sleeping bag, writing in his notebook. It seemed fitting that we were there together, as it was Johann with whom I learned to explore as a child. Though I never remember the brown cornfields and swamps on the edge of suburbia making me so utterly tired.
The next morning, after stocking up on water from Wayllambamba’s colourful inhabitants, and being rudely (and surprisingly) ignored by the village’s roosters and dogs, we started the long trek to Warmiwañusca, or ‘Dead Woman’s Pass’. It wasn’t long before we sighted the famed goal. A simple green notch between mighty peaks, it looked a long way away. As we trekked up steep hills and through a forest of contorted unca trees, our guide, Edison, pointed out interesting plants and rock features.
While taking a break at a creek of singing water, I realised I was falling further behind at each stage. The hike up to Warmiwañusca was the most ego-crushing climb I have ever experienced; perhaps because the others were having a much easier go of it. With the motto ‘nobody gets left behind’, the group would stop every so often to let me catch up. Again it was the magnificent views – this time of a 1500m vertical wall – which tempered my pain.
We stopped to eat at about the 3700m-elevation mark and I happily collapsed, downing four Advil for good measure. My body relished the rest, as well as the food and water. After what seemed like only minutes, we carried on. By the time we passed the tree-line, my head was throbbing and I was gasping for oxygen. It was at this point that I renamed our impending destination Dead Eric’s Pass. It was only the glory of the goal ahead that kept me from peacefully collapsing on the side of the trail.
When the abra, or pass, was only a few dozen yards away, I stopped. I just stood there panting. Urged on by the shouts of the others, I struggled the last few feet and threw my pack on the dirt. All around us, the timeless mountains soared. We took copious pictures, more to give a record of our passage than to capture the unspeakable beauty of our surroundings. No photos would do this vista justice.
Anything my lungs gained from the stepped 600m-descent to Pacaymayo, my legs clearly lost double; by the time we reached the sprawling camp at the bottom, they were wobbling and almost buckling. However, in the knowledge that the toughest section of the trail was behind us, they managed to prop me up while we set up our tent near a small grove of native trees.
While dinner was being prepared, there was a lot of mingling with other groups of gregarious trekkers from Germany and Argentina. I’ll be honest – I wasn’t at my most social, as I was too lost in the shadows of giant mountains rising overhead. The glimpses of the alien equatorial sky peeking through the clouds made a night of stargazing tempting, but any thought except sleep was impossible.
The next day our breakfast was accompanied by the sights and sounds of the Rio Pacaymayo (river). While I slurped my coca tea, my eyes followed its unbroken cascade for thousands of yards up the valley. When I shifted my gaze, I watched our brilliant Peruvian porters, wearing multi-coloured shawls and wide-brimmed hats, packing up our camp in an intriguingly expeditious manner. Once again, when it was time to go Edison simply motioned with his hand and started to walk off through the camp.
A light rain began to fall as we started the ascent to Runquaracay Pass. Before long we were up in the clouds, where a windy mist replaced the rain. To soothe my legs and answer Johann’s astronomical queries, we stopped halfway up the pass to explore an ancient egg-shaped observatory. Visibility became nil as we descended from the pass towards the small Inca ruin of Sayacmarka. Although the mists eliminated any chance of seeing the heralded hundred-mile views, we snaked along the steep slopes and paraded through the ancient walls. The rains soon started in earnest, and I pulled my poncho tight around me.
Further down the ageless road, we passed through a remarkable tunnel cut twelve metres through solid rock. With tiers and steps sculpted into the stone, this early feat of engineering continues to shake heads. We eventually crossed a causeway of ridgeline that led to a small peak. Three sides dropped away into foggy nothing and the path dipped between two rocky ridges and down into the clouds.
With our boots sinking into the sloppy slope, we were at a bit of a loss why Edison kept us lingering here. As if knowing the heavens would co-operate, he just smiled and made us wait. Sure enough, the clouds eventually sank into the valley, revealing a magnificent terraced ruin. Phuyupatamarka, whose name fittingly means ‘the place above the clouds’, was perched directly below us in a cleft between two misty prominences.
The clouds then cleared on the west side of the peak, offering a tremendous view down the river valley. “The Rio (River) Urubamba,” said Edison, “goes past Machu Picchu and forms part of the Amazon.” I took futile pictures as the clouds swirled, periodically opening to reveal the heavens above and below. A helicopter made its way down one of the canyons thousands of feet below. “Taking the soft people to Machu Picchu,” Edison noted.
After we started moving again, I noticed small flowers peeking from the long grass next to the trail. They called to me like mythical lotus poppies, but I’m sure if I’d lain down on that enchanted grass I might never have risen again. Far to the west, the sun dipped towards a range of frosty snow-capped mountains. The air seemed to glow in the angled evening light and a rainbow even formed on the clouds behind us. It slowly crept over the trail we had traversed a few hours before. Then we spotted shadows like no other. As I waved my arms I could see our silhouettes, projected by the sun behind us, dancing directly onto the rainbow itself. Truly amazing.
The clouds continued to part and a huge mountain appeared directly to the south, miles away across a gaping abyss. I was blown away, but Edison tapped me on the shoulder and stated: “No, no. That is the small one.” Staring in wonder at the giant white-crested peak, I couldn’t believe him. That was until Mt Salcantay started separating itself from the clouds. It was more magnificent and primitive than anything I had ever seen. First were the white snakes climbing up the mountain’s sides, spilling through the passes. Then there were glaciers, snowfields… Finally, the monstrous, immortal rock surged into view – its cold and deathly might seemed to defy the sky that surrounded it. It mocked both our expectations and fears and nearly brought me to tears. I had just been given more than could ever have asked for.
I was so satisfied by that one moment that I could have returned home then and there without any regrets. My journey was complete. And yet there was still something waiting for me. The next morning I stepped through the Sun Gate and gazed at what I’d longed to see all those months earlier: the World Wonder of Machu Picchu.
Trekking to the Lost City
The ‘Classic’ Inca Trail allows trekkers to
follow in the footsteps of the ancient Inca. Much of the
path is actually underlain by flagstones placed by the Incas
centuries ago. Stretching over 45km, the trek takes four
days to complete and reaches altitudes as high as 4198m
(Dead Woman’s Pass). Due to the trail’s gradients
and elevation, a good level of fitness and acclimatisation
is required. The last section of the trail, from Winaywana
to the Sun Gate is typically done in the early morning so
trekkers can see the sunrise over Machu Picchu.
If the solitude and local culture rank higher than history
in your books, the Lares Valley trek is a great option.
Also taking four days to reach Machu Picchu, it leads trekkers
through the raw beauty of the Lares Valley. Along the way
you’ll have the chance to visit remote villages and
interact with local people. Although this route has moderate
gradients, two of its passes rise above 4000m, so trekkers
should be acclimatised and have a good level of fitness.
After exploring the ruins, you can soak in the hotsprings
of Aguas Callientes, before gliding back down to Cusco in
the train.
Kumuka’s Inca Trail
Kumuka has vast experience in Peru and on the fabled Inca Trail – no less than ten of our South American itineraries take in the trek. Our friendly English-speaking guides are extremely knowledgeable and will help you get the most from your journey. To shift the balance heavily from pain to pleasure, we hire local porters to transport camp, which leaves you to carry only your personal belongings.
Depending on your time frame, you can choose from the multitude of Kumuka’s Inca Trail options. If you have a couple of months or more, choose from one of our major trans-continental overland tours, either using accompanied local transport or a specially-equipped Kumuka truck. For those with less time, the four-day trek can be added onto an eight-day local transport tour.
Due to the trail’s popularity, permits need to be sought several months in advance of the visit, so be sure to book early.
WHY NOT TRY:
LATIN LANDSCAPES [LOCAL TRANSPORT] 56 DAYS
ANDEAN ADVENTURE [KUMUKA TRUCK] 56 DAYS
Otavalo, Quito, Amazon Jungle Trek, Banos, Cuenca [Ecuador],
Punta Sal, Huanchaco, Huaraz, Lima, Ballestas Islands, Huacachina,
Nazca Lines, Colca Canyon, Arequipa, Cusco, Inca Trail,
Machu Picchu, Puno, Lake Titicaca [Peru], La Paz, Sucre,
Potosi, Uyuni salt flats [Bolivia], San Pedro De Atacama,
Calama, La Serena, Santiago [Chile]
FLIGHTCHECK:
For flights
to connect to all our South American tours from the UK or
Australia, contact your local Kumuka office.
The Lost City
Richard Trillo wades into the Inca’s past to reveal more of Machu Picchu’s magic.
“Lost City of the Incas” was how the American explorer and archaeologist Hiram Bingham first described Machu Picchu after he ‘discovered’ the ruins in 1911. I say ‘discovered’ because the local people had never forgotten about Machu Picchu (which means ‘ancient peak’ in Quechua). In fact, it was a local peasant by the name of Melchor Arteaga who initially led Bingham to the site. When they arrived, locals had been clearing some of the abandoned terraces for planting.
Resting high on a ridge above a double bend of the Rio (River) Urubamba, mountains tower all around the ancient city. “It was essentially a fortified place,” Bingham wrote, “a remote vastness protected by natural bulwarks, of which man took advantage to create the most impregnable stronghold in the Andes.”
The citadel was built in the middle of the 15th century by the Inca emperor Pachacuti, who was bent on expanding Inca territory beyond his capital at Cusco. It was under Pachacuti that this particular Andean tribe (known as Incas after the Quechua word for king – inca) began a century of rapid expansion. In the end, it was only the arrival of the Spanish that halted their progress.
The Andean peoples had no form of writing, and the turmoil that accompanied the Spanish invasion destroyed the oral record (even the intriguing counting and recording system, based on sets of knotted yarn, known as khipus, has never been properly decoded), so there is still no clear picture of life at Machu Picchu. But from what is known about Andean society, and based on what has been deduced from excavations at the site, it is clear that Machu Picchu was a very special place.
Machu Picchu’s construction is based around polished dry-stone walls, composed of solid carved blocks of granite. There’s no mortar involved, and some joints are almost a perfect fit. How these giant slabs of granite were transported in a culture that did not use the wheel poses interesting questions. We know, however, that Inca architects, whose skills were exalted beyond those of any other craftsmen, frequently built clay models to test their plans (you can see examples in a number of Peruvian museums). Why models instead of plans? Simply put, there was no such thing as paper in Inca times.
The accuracy of the joinery in the construction ties in with the fact that nothing at Machu Picchu was done haphazardly. Not a building, window, alley or wall has been merely thrown together – every aspect of the site either duplicates or is aligned with the district’s geographical and celestial features, from the sun itself, to the bright group of stars known as the Pleiades, to every mountain peak in the area. The site was chosen not just because it was so easily defensible, but also because it was deemed to be topographically and astrologically auspicious: key windows and walkways are aligned with the June and December solstices; impressive Andean peaks rise to the north, south, east and west; and the sacred Urubamba river twists around the base of the mountain, almost making it an island. Huayna Picchu (or ‘young peak’), a huge vertical tongue of rock rising up dramatically from the site’s northern end, is supposed to resemble a huge puma guarding the citadel. The South American cat was a totemic animal for the Inca. Some also say that the silhouette of the mountains behind Machu Picchu represents an Incan face looking up to the Peruvian sky.
Bingham thought it was possible that Machu Picchu was deliberately concealed from the commoners of the empire and known only to the royal court and the priests. And as the paved Inca trail that leads to it (just one of a huge network throughout the empire) seems to have been built before Pachacuti’s construction of the citadel, it’s likely that an educated elite had passed on knowledge of the site for generations. Bingham believed a settlement had been established here as long ago as 800AD, abandoned for Cusco around 1300 and then reoccupied and rebuilt when the imperial drive took hold of Pachacuti in the mid-1400s. Most archaeologists agree that Machu Picchu was still being constructed nearly 100 years later when it was abandoned in haste during the Spanish conquest.
The citadel was probably never home to more than a few hundred people, perhaps 750 at most – there are only 200 buildings on the whole site – and it seems most likely that it was an occasional royal residence, a refuge in times of need and a religious and agricultural sanctuary, and possibly a regional capital for the district.
Two or three neighbourhoods have been identified: royal-religious, identified by private gardens and bathrooms; popular-residential; and military. In the middle is an expansive open square known as the ‘sacred plaza’. Here, the king would have had close daily dealings with a few high priests, sometimes involving the taking of vilca, a sacred snuff with strong hallucinogenic properties used to make contact with the spirit world. Other priests, astrologers and curers would have lived in the vicinity. The residential area was for craftsmen, farmers, labourers and all the support staff required in the mountain fortress. Although still a point of controversy, some experts believe a small division of the empire’s standing army had their own separate quarters.
The Inca Empire was a totalitarian state and Inca society rigidly hierarchical. At the top of the pyramid-like social structure was the emperor himself, the Sapa Inca (sapa – one and only; inca – king), who claimed direct descent from the creator-god, Viracocha, and his son Inti, the universally worshipped sun god.
Women in society were largely invisible, chattels of each household’s head, while men were ranked according to their standing within the Inca hierarchy. Depending on their rank, boys were removed at puberty to learn male customs. On the other hand, girls were occasionally entered into priestly or royal households as “virgins of the sun” – maids and concubines.
Machu Picchu offered a perfect location for growing almost all the region’s key crops: from coca and fruit lower down in the valley, to maize, quinoa and potatoes at higher elevations. Coca leaves were cured in the heat of the valley, while potatoes were freeze dried at higher altitudes (an Inca speciality) for storage and travelling rations.
As well as its flawless terracing for irrigated crops, Machu Picchu was a ritual centre. The Incas managed seamlessly to integrate the ritual events and ceremonies, which would take place here throughout the calendar, with economic activity. Events were focused on the great slab of shaped native rock in the religious quarter. Its strange carved protrusion, replicating the mountain of Huayna Picchu, is the citadel’s intihuatana or literally ‘hitching post of the sun’. All Inca centres had one of these, however most of them were destroyed by the Spanish. Were they some kind of altar? A sort of power-focusing shrine? We don’t know. We may never know. These intriguing, yet monumental unknowns somehow sum up the magnetic appeal of Machu Picchu.
Kumuka’s Machu Picchu
Kumuka knows that visiting the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Machu Picchu shouldn’t be reserved for those with legs and lungs of steel, so all their itineraries give you the option of riding up to the ruins in style aboard the Classic Train from Cusco. This option will give you a night in Aguas Calientes, which means more time for you to enjoy the village’s hotsprings, waterfall and orchid garden. The morning after reaching Aguas Calientes, a shuttle bus will run you to the foot of the ancient ruins, allowing you to explore at will before riding the train back to Cusco that afternoon.
WHY NOT TRY:
INCA HIGHWAY + CLASSIC TRAIN ADD-ON 10 DAYS Lima, Nazca Lines, Arequipa and Colca Canyon, Cusco, the Sacred Valley, Machu Picchu
INCA HEIGHTS 21 DAYS Lima, Ballestas Islands, Huacachina, Nazca Lines, Puerto Inca, Arequipa, Colca Canyon, Cusco, Aguas Calientes, Machu Picchu, Puno, Lake Titicaca [Peru], La Paz [Bolivia]
WHAT'S IN THE PRICE?
We pride ourselves on the level of inclusiveness in all
our trips. You won’t have to delve into your pocket
very much, if at all, except for items like gifts, alcoholic
drinks and optional excursions. Unlike some operators, our
guides won’t approach you for extra money en route
to pay for excursions, meals or maintenance. The entrance
fee to Machu Picchu is included in the price of our itineraries.
FLIGHTCHECK:
For flights
to connect to all our South American tours from the UK or
Australia, contact
your local Kumuka office
