Machu Picchu: our grande finale!

View larger photo 

We have come so far in ten months. We have been though first world countries like England and Australia, and we have survived through 3rd world countries like Cambodia and Bali. It is quite bittersweet to write about our final days outside the US. I think our time in Peru will stand out above all other travel stories because it was the most traumatic. As we planned our entire trip, we decided that seeing the lost land of the Incas would be a stellar ending. We wanted to go out with a 'bang', so to speak. We had no idea how right we'd be.

When we arrived in Lima we met our driver and made our way to our hotel. We made arrangements for a driver to meet us at the airport because the taxi drivers in Lima have been known to take unsuspecting tourists to dark corners of the city and rob them. As we drove throught the city we gasped at how incredibly poor this country is. Over 70% of Peruvians live below the poverty line. The buildings are all shacks, some with mounds of barbed wire to protect what little they have. There are piles of bricks and other rubble all over the streets. We can't figure out if it is debris from broken down buildings or construction projects that never got finished. When we arrived in our hotel, we were grateful to be in the only nice neighborhood we saw on our drive. Our hotel still had barbed wire and iron grates on the windows, but it was a huge contrast to the rest of Lima. We only spent one night in Lima because we had a domestic flight to Cusco in the morning. We ventured out only to get dinner, and come back to rest after our flight. Lima has many sights and museums, but we didn't see a thing. We had limited time, and frankly we were uninspired to be tourists in a city of over 8 million desperately impoverished people.

The next morning we flew to Cusco because it is the base for all Machu Picchu expeditions. Normally we like to travel via bus or train to save money, but the flight was 55 minutes compared to the 18 hour bus ride and then a 9 hour train ride needed to get up to Cusco. It was an easy choice. Cusco is a mountain town at an elevation of 11,000 feet above sea level. Andy likes to say the we took off from Lima, went up, up, leveled off and then landed. Since we have spent so much time at sea level, we needed to take it easy and give our bodies time to acclimate to the thinner atmosphere. We took naps and explored the city in short intervals. Just the act of walking up a few stairs made us huff and puff like we were 90 years old!

Cusco is a town that exists only to service tourists. It was impossible to walk from point A to Point B without at least 20 people touting their wares for purchase. It was very remniscent of our time in Bali where everything from postcards to clothing was paraded in front of us. Even the shoe shine boys would jump at our sneakers if we stood still long enough. They didn't understand that they really couldn't 'shine' our tennis shoes. The other major group of touts were people selling tours. Tours to Machu Picchu, tours to go trekking, tours to see other Inca sites, city tours, cathedral tours, etc... It was like they think tourists are completely helpless and can't plan a trip for themselves. Well, the 'tour touts' started to wear on us and we booked a 'Sacred Valley of the Incas tour.' Even though we did get to see some pretty cool sites, we still couldn't help but feel like cattle with big wallets as we got herded on and off buses through craft booths and Inca ruins.

Our final night in Cusco before we went to Machu Picchu we went to a restaurant called 'Cafe Bagdad.' We joked with each other that we shouldn't tell anyone there that we were Americans because of the war in Iraq. Andy got some Sopa de Pollo (chicken soup) and I got a mini pizza. The next morning we got up very early to get our 6am train to the town of Aguas Calientes (literally means 'Hot Water'). The train ride was an agonizing 4 hours on a poorly maintained bumpy track. When we arrived to the town, we found our hotel and dumped our bag. We left all of our luggage in Cusco so we didn't have to carry our big packs for just one night. We hopped on a bus to take us up to the famous archeological site of Machu Picchu. We were thrilled! This was to be our big ending to 10 months of travel around the world. We got to the site around noon and we payed the incredibly high entrance fee. I guess these sites can charge whatever they want, they know the tourists will pay it! When we entered the site we were awestruck. There before our eyes laid a complete city nestled onto the ground that connects two tall mountain peaks. The Incas planned out everything: they constructed terraces so they could farm, they had houses and temples. They had a prison and a funerary house for preparing the dead. (The two aren't neccessarily related.) And everything was constructed so well that even after 700 or 800 years, it is still remarkably functional. The drainage system on the terraces still work, the water is still flowing through the town to the baths. It was amazing. When the Spanish came in to conquer and exterminate the Incas, they never knew about nor discovered this town. So it was abandoned and forgotten but luckily, never destroyed.

About an hour into our visit, Andy started to complain about stomach pains. We had eaten only a few crackers and a granola bar for breakfast, so we figured that we just needed a proper meal. As the pain increased, it became harder and harder for Andy to walk. It became apparent that something was really wrong. We thought if he could sit and rest he would feel better. Not wanting to waste valuable time, I grabbed the camera and ran around to take as many pictures as possible. When I returned to Andy he was pale and having massive abdominal cramping. We couldn't believe it, after all the planning for this final event, all the anticipation of having a full day to see Machu Picchu, Andy gets food poisoning. That damned Cafe Bagdad poisoned him with bad chicken soup! Not intentionally I know, but it sure puts me in favor of the war in Iraq.

I helped Andy hobble to the bathroom at the entrance to the site. Every step was excrutiating. There was a fee pay of $.50 to use the restroom, so as Andy ran for the toilet I fumbled for change. After a long time he came out, shaking and dazed. He was in really bad shape. He told me that he had emptied out both ends and was freezing cold. Oh God, I thought. Not here, not on a mountaintop, not in Peru! After spending another $1.50 for multiple trips to the bathroom I decided that he has to get into bed. He was shaking uncontrollably, and in such horrible pain. The problem was, we were on a mountain and the only way down was a 4 hour walk or a really bumpy 30 minute bus ride (with no toilet). The 30 minute bus ride was the only option since he was too weak to stand. It was the LONGEST 30 minutes of our life. Every bump and every hairpin turn made Andy turn greener and plead for me to help him. Luckily, Andy had gotten rid of a lot of fluid just before the bus ride, so he made it all the way back to our hotel.

When I threw Andy into bed, I realized that this problem was too big for me to handle alone. All our medication was in storage in Cusco since we left most of our luggage behind. I ran outside to the town square and desperately hunted for help. A police man took me to a clinic (he called it the hospital), and I stumbled through my high school spanish to communicate that my husband was horribly ill. No one spoke any english. So a doctor and two nurses came back with me to our hotel room. After a quick exam, a lot of hand waving and charades on my part, they understood the problem. His temperature was over 101 degrees F. If I'd have known that my husband's life depended on my knowing spanish, I would have paid much more attention in school. They hooked him up to an IV that they rigged up with Andy's shoelaces. They gave him anti-vomit drups and a shot for pain. They gave him antibiotics and a whole host of other drugs that I have no idea what they were. They showed me the labels (all in spanish) and as I dumbly nodded my approval, they all went into Andy's IV. I couldn't believe what was happening. Our hotel room was transformed into a hospital. As we waited for the drugs to kick in, the doctor tried to practice a few words in English. He asked me the english translation for 'Como estas?'... which is 'How are you?' It was a few minutes of comedy while the doctor and two nurses practiced 'how are you' over and over. The doctor even went over to Andy and said very slowly 'how...are...you?' Andy looked at me like 'you've got to be kidding me!' Here he is laying there in agony and we were having a small english class around his bed.

The IV that was hooked up to Andy had enough fluid to last for 2 hours. He was so dehydrated that he sucked it all up in about 45 minutes. After they took out the IV and Andy drifted off to a drug-induced sleep, everyone left. Now the only thing left was time.

In the past 24 hours Andy has had his ups and downs. He has had many bottles of Gatorade and he can only manage a few pretzels and some bread. Fortunately he has gained enough strength to get all the way to Lima from Cusco and now we are waiting for our flight to LA. He will make it just fine. We are so excited to be coming home so he can rest and recoup. We will be staying with his sister Donna just north of LA. Hopefully in another day or so he will be up for some real food. For now I am forcing him to drink a lot of Gatorade.

Keep him in your prayers! He's a strong guy and was amazing under all that pain and stress.