Las Conquistadoras: You Don't Have to be Macho to go to Macchu

"You don't have to be Macho to go to Macchu," says our french-folded leaflet provided to us by our hostel. The two of us may have different takes on that but we will get to that later on.

Our journey began by catching a cab accross town to a car pre-arranged to drive the first hour and a half of our journy to Machu Picchu. The pre-arranged driver proceeded to drive in circles around Cusco, back to our hostel, until he must have realized that he was not giving us a driving tour of Cusco and actually was driving to the town of Ollantaytambo, about an hour and a half drive from Cusco, where we would catch our train to Aguas Calientes. Again, the cab had no seatbelts even though the seat-belt alarm continued to beep until it simply became background noise. Apparantly the driver didn't care.

We arrived in Ollantaytambo and had two hours to kill before our train left for Aguas Calientes. Even though it was only our fourth day we were already craving pizza and sat down at a pizzeria with the intention of grabbing a bite to eat and then exploring and hiking around the small town. About 20 minutes after we ordered our pizza and orange juice we were informed that the pizza place had no cheese. We declined their offer of a pizza without cheese and promptly paid for our jugos de naranjas and set out for another pizzeria.

We finally got the margarhita pizza that we were craving at a small pizzeria and set out to hike and explore the shops. When we got carried away taking photos of a small Peruvian chico that was running around the market stalls happily posing for us, Christina looked at the time and realized the train was leaving in 18 minutes. So much for shopping and hiking, and so much for arriving to the train 30 minutes early as we were instructed. We underestimated the distance to the train station just a little bit which allowed us a nice pre-Machu Picchu warm-up. After sprinting to the train station, backpacks bouncing, sweat dripping, and panting we made it onto the train just before it rolled out 12:58 on the dot. The Swedish tour group that had taken over our coach looked at us as if we had just hopped on the train in Storm Trouper costumes. Well, at least we made it.

The hour and forty-five minute train ride along the river and through the jungle brought us to the quaint town of Aguas Calientes where we spent the night before our day at Machu Picchu. Exploring the town and hot springs took no more than an hour or two, so we called it an early night to hydrate, play Incan Parcheesi, and get to bed at a decent hour before our 4:30 wake up call.

At 5:20 we boarded a bus up the switchbacks of Machu Picchu town, paid a Sol to use the restroom at the top, and found Darcy our Machu Picchu tour guide waiting for us. The fog-covered mountains and rain put a small damper on the beginning of the tour as we didn't realize it was sure to clear up later that afternoon. We wandered through the postcard-esque ruins of Machu Picchu, and got lost and whistled at by the guards for going the wrong way through the ruins. We made sure to get our "Facebook photos" - as Darcy called them - and then started our Huayna Picchu hike. Words can't really describe the hike, the views, the stairs and the feeling of reaching the top rock but hopefully some photos will help.

A Few More Words on Whine-A Picchu by Christina
No, words and photos really can't capture Macchu Picchu, but I've got a few choice ones about the hike up to Huayna Picchu. Don't get me wrong, it was one of the most exhilarating things I have ever done (not to mentions the stunning views), but I didn't neccessarily think so on the way up..

Huayna Picchu, for all you Cal Poly grads, was Bishop's Peak overdosed on steroids, and then more steroids. The switchbacks. Oh, the switchbacks. Not just flat ascending ground, but steep, ascending, slippery rocks. While there were steel cables to hold on to for parts of the hike, it seemed that the more dangerous sections required you to be on your hands hands and knees. Thoughts of the Donnor party and the pioneers of the Oregon Trail kept flashing through my mind (shout-out to the other half of C-squared!). I "pretended to be courteous" to other hikers by letting them pass me, when in reality I just wanted a breather. I wondered why I had not been diagnosed with asthma, as every 1.5 switchback I wanted to keel over. How pathetic did I look? Well, Monica offered me her inhaler more than once (I contemplated it).

23947297 switchbacks later, hands covered in dirt, we made it to a small cave. No, tunnel would be a more appropriate word. Packs off, we crouched/crawled/squeezed our way through. Soon after, we were at the top. No longer did I want to kill Monica, who was barely out of breath!

Preparation:

Our first view of Machu Picchu.....

Most stylish girl on the mountain!

Our guide Darcy, Mr. Darcy:

Oh herro! Just hangin in an old Incan house

I don't think you're going to fit through there with that mochila:

Emerging from the cave!

Super happy she did the hike!

See that way down there? That's Machu Picchu. Also note the switchbacks up the mountain on the left that the bus took us up:

The Descent:

Camera under jacket = pregnant woman hiking Huaynapicchu

Descending into the fog, a bit eerie:

Como se llama llama? Sad fact: Llamas are brought in from Cusco to Machu Picchu only as a tourist attraction

You don't just get whistled at by the life gaurd for running on the pool deck. Here was one of the several times we were whistled at by a guard for getting lost in the ruins: