"The Midnight Express"

The Midnight Express itself.
see all photos »

After several days of enjoying the refined Cusco, the time had come to see the Incan Holy Valley.  Machu Picchu lies about 110 km from Cusco and enroute are several less-famous but also impressive sites, all poised imperiously above the Incan Holy Valley with the Urubumba river snaking below.

Wanting to see all that is pre-Columbian we decided to take a tour of the Holy Valley that would leave us in Ollantaytambo, from where we would catch the train to Machu Picchu.  WIth our best tourist faces on, we boarded a bus of fellow picture-takers, presided over by a wise-cracking local guide named Bernie.  Remembering all too quickly the joys of talking to a silent bus trying to get a rise, Worth and I took our own guiding experience to be the ideal clients: laughing, attentive and, of course, tipping.  Bernie's infinite wisdom directed us first to one of the many "indigenous" markets of the area, where Peruvians persistently peddle everything from alpaca ponchos, to bronze Inca God gods, to coca leaf tea.  After twenty minutes of admiring the wares and insisting, "really, NO gracias", we climbed back on the bus towards Pisac.

A town of mythic porportions

Happy campers
see all photos »

The colonial town of Pisac sits in the flat valley where square city blocks were easy to achieve.  In contrast, the ruined Incan Pisac towers above gracefully positioned on high cliffs so that the surrounding peaks exactly mark the cardinal directions from the ruin's center.  As Bernie quipped, the only problem with Incan architecture is that they didn't think at all of the tourists, huffing and puffing up to the peak-top locations.  Rimmed by centuries of terracing against landslides, both the stonework and panoramas are truly magnificent.

Even Che took a photo here
see all photos »

After our climb it was time for our group-a melange of gay men, and well, more gay men- to stop for lunch.  Well fed with alpaca, local trout and ceviche we headed to Ollantaytambo.  Built as an Incan administrative center, the foundations of the present-day town are still the stones laid by the Incas in the shape of a corn cob: each house representing an individual kernel.  Above the town is the ruined fortress and temple, again displaying the Inca's incredible Frank-Lloyd-Wrightean aesthetic sense that seeks not to destroy the natural surrounding, but rather incorporate its grandeur into their architecture.  In good humor, the hat-shaped temple is placed on top of a cliff undeniably contoured like a face.

Location, location, location.
see all photos »

When Bernie left to lead his troops back to Cusco, we stayed behind in Ollantaytambo to catch the train to Machu Picchu.  As no roads lead to Machu Picchu, the train is the only means to the Incan crown jewel (other than hiking the the Incan trail which is closed the entire month of February for renovations).  This monopoly on transport not only means steep prices, but also, as we discovered at the train station, the possibility of being stuck.

A strike was scheduled to protest the government's dealings to sell Machu Picchu along with a package of other Incan sites to a Chilean company.  While the significant proceeds of these hallmarks already go into the pockets of corrupt government officials in Lima, the prospects of privatizing these sites to a foreign company is a slap in the face and too much for these locals, unmistakably proud of their Incan heritage.  Since the protests in Machu Picchu were to occur directly on the train tracks, also owned by a Chilean company, there was no guarantee that we could get back to Cusco for several days.  Realizing that you don't come this far to miss Machu Picchu, we placed our bet, bought our one-way ticket and boarded the train.

Just hanging out
see all photos »

The train-- filled with wool-hat-clad young people buzzing with excitement-- felt something like "The Midnight Express" cutting its way through the night to a town of mythic proportions.  All that was lacking was a back-flipping Tom Hanks serving hot chocolate, although it would have been more than welcome.  When we finally rolled to a stop amongst the lights of Aguas Calientes (the human comforts base town for the ruins) the anticipation was palpable.

With the tracks serving as the town's main street, the train was swarmed by people pressing hostels, drink specials and sandwiches.  After checking the internet for the results of Super Tuesday and devouring some bizarrely purple-colored French onion soup, we tucked ourselves into bed to be ready for the 4:30 AM wake up call.

Unhappy people
see all photos »

A town clearly built for tourism, it is awake and serving breakfast at 5, so that one can catch the 5:30 bus up to the ruins.  With eyes still at half-mast we boarded the bus to see the sun rise behind a thick fog.  For the first 30 or so minutes in the ruins, we had no idea which way to look through the fog.  However, as the mist slowly parted, the timid rationing of the ruin's appearance made its final unveiling all the more impressive.  A deserving member of the 7 Ancient Wonders of the World, Machu Picchu is not only a marvel of architectural greatness, but also an example of a deep admiration for the natural world.  The stunning temples, citadels and terracing act only to deepen the beauty of the surrounding piercing peaks.

Those tires really do burn
see all photos »

After seven hours of wandering through the mazes of impressive stone work and just sitting and looking, the intensity of the sun go the better of us, and we headed back down to Aguas Calientes.  Good thing to, as we got the last 2 spots on the last train leaving for 3 days.  This time we found ourselves on the pricey first class vistasome train, complete with lunch service, a fashion show and a plethora of senior tourists.

Happily arriving back in Cuzco-- one world famous site richer--we realized that not only was the train not running the next day, but indeed all the buses out of Cusco.  So we settled back into Cusco for another two nights where we were privy to seeing the next day's massive protests, turning Cusco's streets into a colorful demonstration of rage.  Rage that the government would even consider selling the most beautiful and beloved symbol of national heritage.

You think that´s it?
see all photos »

"No se vende Pisac! No se vende Machu Picchu!"

Much love, Cass