Peru (day seven)

The magnificent travels of Megann Phillips: a journal

Day 07 in Peru

March 21, 2013

Oh, the rainforest!

        We went on four hikes today: one very early in the morning, one before lunch, one before dinner, and one night hike. For the AM hike we adjourned with a guide to Oxbow Lake, which used to be another branch if the Rio Madre de Dios, but is slowly drying into oblivion as the years pass. Our group hopped aboard paddle-powered raft and watched with hawk eyes the shores surrounding us. We didn't see much-- a prehistoric-looking flock if brown feathered birds, several bats beneath a log which flew off into the forest as we approached, a  caiman in the distance. The setting was serene and little-disturbed by the commotion of animals or humans alike. We passed a half hour fishing for piranha, and I'm proud to say that I, Megann Phillips, have caught (and released, of course) a flesh-eating piranha in the Amazon River Basin. 

        Our next hike was to a lookout over Clay Lake. Apparently, macaws, in general, need to consume clay in order to negate the toxins of the fruits and seeds they  digest, and macaws in the area flock to the cliff-like red clay banks of Clay Lake in order to do this. The company Dad, Cara, and I are touring with has a concealed lookout point facing these banks, and we all lie in wait there for nearly forty minutes expecting the colorful birds to make their grand debut. Unfortunately, although we could hear the calls if the macaws and see them resting in trees in the distance, we never got the close-up look we were hoping for. This came later.

        Back at the ecolodge, in between our second and third hikes, four red and green macaws flew into a tree just behind the thatched roof of the dining area. They were gorgeous and vibrant... and bigger than I expected, unlike the howler monkeys we saw around the same time.
        Before I saw the monkeys, I heard them, hooting and hollering loud and deep. I expected to see some enormous ape-like creature up in the trees, but instead found cat-sized, delicate little things flying branch to branch above me. One, I noticed, carried the slight figure of an infant on her back.

        On our third hike, we found ourselves traipsing though the gardens if a local shaman, all the while being lectured about the diversity if uses for a variety of rainforest plants. I was surprised to discover that the shaman could use his remedies to "cure" almost anything-- from menstrual irregularity to Parkinson's Disease, male sexual dysfunction to cancer and stomach ulcers. We tried shots of these holistic cures after our tour of the shaman's gardens was over, but when everyone else downed three different shots, I only managed one; I attempted to enjoy the Cat's Claw, which is supposed to remedy menstrual cramps, but it tasted like cough syrup. I focused all of my intentions in the following minutes on not vomiting.

        Our final excursion into the forest was lead by our guide (Delford) long after daylight hours had passed. With a silly-looking head light pulled over a wide-brimmed hat, we all walked as slowly as possible in order to spy the bugs that surely spotted us more often than we ended up spotting them. There we plenty of mosquitoes in the night-- even more than during the day. We saw a tree frog with it's tadpole tale still attached, and a caiman in the swamp; but the highlight of the outing was an enormous tarantula which Delford lured out of her nest with a thin twig.

The red clay banks of Clay Lake didn't prove fruitful in our hunt for Amazonian macaws...

... but we found four gorgeous red and green macaws just above the roof of our lodge when we returned from our hike! Look closely; can you see them?

A red howler monkey whistling through the trees

El Rio Madre de Dios as we transport ourselves to the medicine man's lair 

Freshly harvested bananas ready to make a journey down river

We left the medicine man behind just before sunset.

I have resolved that sunset is the most beautiful time of day in the Amazon.

A scene from our night hike: a tarantula being lured out of her hole

Here is another enormous spider I had the pleasure of getting close to... I had to get my hand in there for scale!

Peru (day six)

The magnificent travels of Megann phillips: a journal

Day 06 in Peru

March 20, 2013

Today's "oh"s and "ah"s

        Today has been mostly dedicated to transporting ourselves to another part of Peru. We've left Cusco and arrived instead in the low, wet flatlands of the Amazon River Basin. By taxi, by plane, by bus, by boat, and by foot, we found ourselves at the most beautiful ecolodge in the Peruvian rainforest. Although I miss our lovely room in historic Cusco, our room here is like nothing I've ever seen. 

        There are no doors-- only curtains separating our humble abode from the open hallway and our neighbors. One wall of the room is absent-- completely open to the jungle just outside, we share our space with the noises and the creatures of the Amazon. I found a hand-sized lizard in our bathroom. The bugs are as thick "inside" as they are outside, and my only protection from them at night is a giant net hung above my bed. Instead of electricity, we were supplied with environmentally friendly all-natural Brazil Nut soap and shampoo. It is altogether charming.

My first hike in the Amazon Rainforest

        Almost immediately after we arrived at the ecolodge, we went out on our first hike in the jungle. Our guide led us along a trail at the end if which we climbed a sky-scraping tower. After dragging my tired legs up what seemed like and endless flight of twisting stairs, I reached the lookout point at the very top. It was amazing, I could see over the tops of the trees for miles and miles, I could see the Rio Madre de Dios wind off into the distance, and two macaws fly, squawking loudly together, to some unknown hideaway. I could see dark gray rain clouds in the distance.

        By the time I climbed back down the stairs to the base of the tower and took a photo of the sign which labeled it, the rainstorm hit us. It was just like the synthesized storms in The Rainforest Cafe (minus the elephants, plus actual rain); the noises of the jungle stopped, and all of a sudden, I was consumed by the sound of rain hitting the trees and pounding my skin. When I finally arrived back at the lodge after walking as quickly as I could through the rest of the rainforest trail, I was soaked to the bones. Fortunately, the rain was was warm, and the temperature was warmer. I was hardly cold!

Taking a squat... Or should I say a stand?

        On the lengthy bus ride to the ecolodge, we passed what seemed to be a good mile of land filled with a hastily built shanty town. Sturdy sticks and branches were tied together in the rough shapes of small houses or tents. Thrown over the top of the wooden frames were blue tarps, sometimes topped with palm fronds to help minimize heat retention. Strangely, all of these shanty huts supported a flag pole, at the tip of which flew a Peruvian flag (homemade or not). 

        A guide informed us that these so-called homes belonged to squatters who legally owned homes in other areas locally. The land on which they constructed their shanty town officially belonged to the army, but when news surfaced that the army planned to develop the land, the locals moved in to protect their forest and the countless species that call it home. The consensus (with which I whole-heatedly agree) is that this is all justified and good.

A horror story

        The bathroom in the Cusco National Airport was the sight of one of the worst experiences of my life. After eating at the airport cafeteria, I went to the restroom in dire need of (ahem... Well, know...). Upon entering a dirty wooden stall and closing the door behind me, I observed the seat to be missing from the toilet; I had to relieve myself while squatting. I then turned to my left and reached for the toilet paper... Then I turned to my right... Then I spun around in a desperate circle. The toilet paper for both stalls in the women's lavatory hung on the outside wall. I was forced to pull up my pants (without wiping myself), walk to the toilet paper dispenser and wrap my right hand in toilet paper, then re-enter my stall. I made sure to time my expedition across the restroom perfectly, in order to assure that no one witnessed my walk if shame.

I love this picture that I took of the tarp village through my rainy bus window; it reminds me of a watercolor painting.

We disembarked the bus, only to board a boat. The river (La Madre de Dios) was beautiful, even in the rain.

Luckily, our boat was covered with a roof... but the rain still poured
through the unprotected in-between.

Ah... but then the sun shone again!

See the tree off to the right, with the multiple trunks? It's called a
Walking Tree, because it is able to transport itself to areas of purer
sunlight (very, very slowly).

After I climber to the top of the tower, I could feel the entire structure
sway with the wind.

A view from the top

Looking down...

After descending the stairs, I took a picture of this sign...

... then took a picture of the gorgeous sky. Two minutes later, it began to pour.

Peru (day five)

The magnificent travels of Megann Phillips: a journal

Day 06 in Peru

March 20, 2013

Once upon a March 19 (yesterday)

        Yesterday was a was a stunningly beautiful day. The sun was shining as it does upon The Great Northwest in July, clouds drifting lazily through the top branches of the tall trees all around us. It was a prime day to observe exactly why the Peruvians call the wooded areas of the Sacred Valley "the cloud forest". 

        Our entire trip thus far has defied the pattern of Peru's traditional two-season weather pattern. Our stay falls in March, the last stretch of the six-month wet season, but aside from the occasional sprinkle, it's only rained at night. My nose as arms are red and tender from sunburns.

        The cheerful weather made for a wonderful day at Machu Picchu. Elvis gave us a tour of the grand old fortress for two hours, showing us the iconic sundial at the city summit, sacrificial altars in the religious district, ruined storage buildings in the agricultural district, and simple homes in the residential district. In the center of the religious district of Machu Picchu, Elvis walked us through the cramped, cave-like temple of the condor; however, he (conveniently) avoided a few descending steps which Cara and I eagerly rushed to after our guided tour ended. 

        The passage around the stairs was even more cramped than the rest of the temple, and separated into two tiny, natural tunnels. We crouched to peek into the first, but saw nothing of interest. In the second. Which was slightly harder to squeeze into, we stopped our tracks after just passing through the entry; it was an archeological dig site filled with brushes and small buckets. The initial cavern was hardly more than a hole in the wall, but using my cell phone as a light, I could see another tunnel twist off to the right. It took every ounce of my will power not to dive into the middle of the site and explore every nook if the hidden marvel, but I unfortunately managed to keep an intelligent head on my shoulders and stay put. 

        Cara and I hypothesized that they both (I speak of the tunnels.) must have been graves for important priests, or something of the like. After all, what better place for a religiously devoted man to be buried than beneath a temple devoted to the messenger of the gods?

I made friends with at least a dozen stray dogs in Peru, but I think this one was my favorite. He was so affectionate and excitable; I wanted nothing more than to take him home with me!

Take a gander at that round temple off to the left-- Isn't it marvelous? And look closely at the tall peak situated behind Machu Picchu-- Near the summit, there sits what is hypothesized to be an ancient Inca astrological observatory called Wayna Picchu.

A drain... Don't ask me why I insisted on taking a picture of it, but I like
how it turned out.

Looking across Machu Picchu from the religious district, at the residential district.

The silhouette of this rock matches that of the mountains directly behind it.

The famous Machu Picchu sundial 

A postcard-worthy view

We saw llamas roaming Machu Picchu... It made the Peruvian experience complete!

Peru (day four)

        I've genuinely been enjoying my late throwbacks to mid-March. Reminiscing over the greatest adventure of my lifetime (so far) has been a true pleasure for me these last few days, and I'm so glad that I have eight moredays of Peruvian posts to look forward to!

        As I'm sure is evident, I've been trying to relay each of my days in South America as if they were chronological chapters in a story. In my idealistic mind's eye, I see the entries in my journal forming an exciting plot line, taking the same peaked, mountainous shape as every stereotypical plot line I've ever analyzed in literature class. My June 01 post served as an introduction to my adventure, and then introduced the rising action (my exploration of Cusco and small Inca sites around The Sacred Valley), which escalated exponentially in my sequential entries until... the climax! Humph... I guess, my Peruvian plot line isn't quite so cliché as I originally thought; the climax of my story has arrived a bit sooner than would be expected. 

        "So, what is the climax of a story with no conflict?" you ask, excited at the prospect of its early reveal. It's the most exciting part, of course; and in  the gorgeous, green, mountainous, historically infamous setting of Peru, the highlight of my adventure could, really, be only one thing: the most famous and mysterious Inca palace hidden in between the high peaks of the Andes Mountains... Machu Picchu. Therefore, I dub the grand finale of my March 18 hike: the summit of my plot line. Although the actual exploration of what very well may be the world's most famous ruin came on the 19 of March, the view of Machu Picchu, when I finally laid eyes on it after a long and taxing day of trekking through the great ups and downs of the Andes, nearly made my heart stop in my chest. It was positively incredible; "I'm the king of the world!"

        Below, my heart-stopping climax is preceded by a continuation of the rising action (a train ride to the head of the Inca Trail at Kilometer 104, and the exhausting, yet absolutely amazing, hike from Kilometer 104 to Machu Picchu). 

The magnificent travels of Megann Phillips: a journal

March 18, 2013

A list of random writings from a train: riding the Peru Rail from Ollantaytambo to Kilometer 104

1) The Urubamba River is as wide as the Columbia River, and probably just as as deep. It is muddy brown and raging. Our guide says it is too polluted to fish from, but even still, it is pretty set in contrast with towering, cloud-covered rocky points, rich green foliage, and red-roofed adobe houses.

2) Elvis (our guide) says the river is much more clear in June and July.

3) I see Inca ruins everywhere! I almost missed the remains of a small village, constructed with relatively large stones fitting together seamlessly, because it was a view from the windows opposite my seat. Minutes after, I saw from a distance another small ruined Inca village in the hills. Their terraces are everywhere, laced through almost every slope; steep, stepped, even, somehow enduring all these hundreds if years.

4) Elvis tells us that he is from the Amazon region of Peru. He says that they speak an uncommon language in his home village in the jungle-- even more uncommon than Quechua, which, I guess, is not quite so uncommon in Peru. Elvis admits to being fluent in both of these tongues, along with Spanish and English and Portuguese, and I find myself seething in jealously of his five-language arsenal... I only have one and a half.

5) I like Elvis; he's funny and interesting. He tells stories in the train that sound like they are taken from the pages of The Jungle Book. When he was little, his father brought baby cougars back from a hunting trip. He raised them and loved them as pets, but eventually their instincts has predators kicked in and one of the grown-up cubs attempted to attack him. After that, Elvis said his village left the cougars to their own devices in the wild. He talked about, too, how he hated monkeys because they used to steal his toys as a child. "You leave your toys outside for too long, and they become not yours anymore," he said.

The hike from kilometer 104 to Machu Picchu 

        Our trail began at an ancient Inca resting place-- a couple of ruined buildings which served as a retreat of rest and worship along the extensively long Inca trading route. It was the crown jewel of the three tiny rest stops constructed by the Inca along the trail, containing three roofed buildings and a altar, instead of a single open shelter. It was a wonderful and scenic place to start our journey after jumping off the train, and the rest of the landscape along the old trail did not disappoint. Ninety-five percent of the trail was paved by the Inca with flat stones, and because the trail was mostly uphill, stair cases were abundant as well as breath-taking views.

        One flight of stairs Elvis called "the monkey stairs" because it was so steep that a lot of hikers (particularly foreigners) use both their hands and their feet to climb. I'm slightly ashamed to admit that Dad was one of these monkey tourists, but I may have been too, had I not needed the use of my hands to protect my camera from hitting the steps in front of me. When we reached the top of what at the time seemed to be such a monumental obstacle, it was as if it were simply another forty or so feet less to hike before reaching the famed Machu Picchu. We took a deep breath and moved on, our egos slightly bruised after seeing a large group of elderly Chinese people had also scaled our mountain minutes before.

        "The famed Machu Picchu"... We didn't get to explore it after we reached the end of our trek today; that is on tomorrow's itinerary. We did, however, set foot within the less known (but altogether awesome) ruins if Wiñaywayna. There, we stood in the remains of an old temple of worship to the rainbow deity. It was the shape of a half circle, with seven windows and a view of a dramatic waterfall in the green mountainside. There was another enormous flight if stairs there, too. By far the longest count of steps we ascended on our journey, it was lined with beautiful baths, natural water still flowing continuously through their spickets. Elvis said these may have been used for ceremonial cleansing before paying a visit to Machu Picchu in Inca times. The buildings here were a vast labyrinth, unlike anything I've seen yet, they easily outshine Pisac and Ollantaytambo, and I thought them more beautiful because their restoration by people of the modern era was minimal and unnoticeable; the stonework seemed to have lasted without assistance, intricate and firm as the day it was laid.

        The Temple if the Sun, in between Wiñaywayna, was not as elaborate as I had expected it would be. The last historic site before our arrival at the main attraction, it seemed to be... well, just a building on a high-up point. One can never understate an example of Incan architecture, however. No matter how simple the building, it is always build with a firm foundation intended to endure the ages. The sun temple was no exception, and standing in its doorway, I had a fantastic areal view of the Valley, including Machu Picchu.

Welcome to Peru: a side note and not-so-fun fact

        Elvis says racism is abundant in Lima. He isn't allowed into some establishments because of skin color's representation of his Native American heritage. Speaking Quechua, too, has come to be regarded as primitive and distasteful, frowned-upon. The people in the Capitol forget: they are almost all descended from the Inca too, despite the fairer hue if their complexion. The Conquistadores brought no women with them to conquer the lands of South America, and the mothers of their children were the daughters of dark-skinned natives.

We took a taxi to the train station in Ollantaytambo. Just the same as nearly every taxi in the Cusco region, ours proudly bore an ornamental representation of Virgin Mary swinging from the rear view mirror.

Off the train... Our journey begins!

We passed over several beautiful bridges, passing over the Urubamba, its many tributaries, and even directly in front of two waterfalls.

We were lucky enough to have a guide willing to take our picture several times as we hiked.

We used the stunning landscape as an excuse to stop and rest a few times...

... and sometimes, when my dad looked like he was about ready to pass out, Elvis would magically find a flower he wanted to show us.

The broken welcome sign of Wiñaywayna

Wiñaywayna, as I said before, is a labyrinth of stone walls.

Climbing those stairs, toward the Rainbow Temple, was probably one of the best workouts I've ever had in my life.

A view from inside the Rainbow Temple

A photo Wiñaywayna, taken from a distance as we hiked onward

The Monkey Stairs are are much steeper than they appear to be.

Ah... Our very first glimpse of Machu Picchu

Wow, look at that view...

And this, my friends, is what champions look like. (That's me, on the right, after I realized I had been wearing my white shirt backwards all day.)

Peru (day three)

The magnificent travels of Megann Phillips: a journal

Day 03 in Peru

March 17, 2013

The city of my perrito libre

        We caught a tourist's bus to Ollantaytambo today. (Side note: It was so much more pleasant than the public bus we took to Pisac yesterday.) The drive lasted about an hour and a half, leaving from Cusco and journeying through the Peruvian countryside all the way to the far end of The Sacred Valley of the Inca; it was beautiful. 

        Driving along the twisty-turny roads, I was able to comprehend a much more complete picture of Peru. As we left the historic district of Cusco, we drove into areas not so blessed with clean streets and well-groomed plazas. Immediately surrounding the historic center of the city was was a sort of urban-ish suburb, which was obviously neglected compared to inner Cusco, but still rather charming. The markets thrived, but businesses and homes which lined the streets were no longer coordinated in the one-blue-door-after-another sort of way. The streets were loosely littered with pieces of garbage, but it was far from filthy until we reached municipalities several miles out. There, dogs wrestled in garbage cans hidden by piles of waste, and the houses were of the ugliest sort. The streets were torn to pieces by weather, and the poverty of the area was apparent. 

        When we left the wretched outskirt cities, the countryside, though still obviously poverty-stricken, was a sight for sore eyes. Little adobe houses, often next to the ruins of toppled adobe houses seemingly several decades old, were dispersed sparsely through tall grass and a scattering of livestock, which instead of being fenced in, were tied on long pieces of rope attached to stakes in the ground. Occasionally, I'd see a woman or a man in traditional dress herding cattle or sheep, pigs or llamas. It was breathtaking, especially considering the green, mountainous landscape that served as a backdrop.

        When our bus finally reached the village in the valley beneath Ollantaytambo, Dad, Cara, and I ate lunch before hiking to the ruins. (I tried red fish ceviche, which, although it tasted strongly if cilantro, was still quite good when eaten with cammote on the side.) It sustained me for a fairly long and taxing hike covering what seemed like a thousand stairs. 

        The ancient Inca fortress was awe-inspiring, and walking along precarious paths made the experience totally thrilling. I tried to imagine myself an Inca, living in the buildings when they were a thriving metropolis instead of roofless, empty ruins.

        Hiking back down the mountain after two hours of exploration, I was sad to see them become smaller behind me; however, my sorrows were partially mended upon meeting a friendly stray dog. I think I fell in love with that dog in the ten minutes that I knew him, and I'll forever remember Ollantaytambo as the ruins that the kind black perrito was blissfully ignorant of, even though they towered over his home, their intimidating presence visible from every angle. 

        It broke my heart when we inevitably left the kind stray and Ollantaytambo for Cusco, but other adventures and acquaintances await me tomorrow. We took a taxi home to the Orchidea Real Hostel, but not before tasting some ice cream the flavor of chicha morada.

The people who live in the small town beneath Ollantaytambo, I believe, are some of the luckiest in the world. They build their lives adjacent to the remains of one of history's most impressive empires.

Welcome to the Parque Nacional de Ollantaytambo!

A view of the impressive ruins from a distance

Full disclosure: I have a bit of an obsession with ancient Incan stair steps. I can't logically explain it; they are just really awesome to me. I loved using them to climb the old mountainside terraces and feeling like I had been transported back in time six hundred years.

Oh! Hello, cow grazing and defecating ten feet from a world-renowned national historic landmark.

Homes and other ancient ruined buildings originally constructed with adobe and relatively small stones

This, here, is the Temple of the Sun. Although you wouldn't think so just by looking at it, it is one of the Inca's most astonishing architectural feat. Without the use of the wheel, they hauled the temple's enormous slabs of rock from an area over a mile away (and remember: the Peruvian landscape is far from level or even).