The Big Trip: Peru

On the Inca’s Trail

Conquering Peru’s Amazon wilderness, ancient ruins, and newfound treasures is easier than ever.

Text by Robert Earle Howells

Map by Emily Cooper
National Geographic Adventure magazine

Every trekker who tackles the 5,900-foot gain of Peru’s Inca Trail eventually ponders an ancient mystery: Were the folks who carved the original route to Machu Picchu awesomely adapted to high-mountain life? Or just oblivious to little courtesies that future visitors from sea level might appreciate, like switchbacks?
Fortunately, the thigh-busting Inca austerity program is now optional, since a slew of private operators have invested in Peru’s once rustic tourist infrastructure over the past few years. This recent boost has made discovering the Lost City more feasible than ever and raised standards of accessibility across the country. These days, Peru’s lesser known classics—from high-altitude ruins to damp lowland jungles to colonial cities—are within easy reach on a weeklong itinerary, so you can set the level of challenge as high (or low) as you please.

1. Machu Picchu

Face the Undisputed Andes Champ

It’s easy to see why the Lost City of the Inca got misplaced, so dramatically hidden is its perch at 7,970 feet, beneath the cloud forested spire of Huayna Picchu. A 2,000-foot drop-off to the roiling Urubamba below guards its three riverside flanks. Machu Picchu was built in the 15th century as a royal religious retreat for Inca rulers, and the supernatural majesty of its stone facades and terraces makes it one of the world’s most compelling sites, even if it’s besieged by 2,000 visitors a day. The 24-mile Inca Trail is the trophy approach, but it requires making reservations up to four months in advance with licensed outfitters—and the will to challenge steep, 15,000-foot passes. (Watching your porters dance up the hills in flip-flops is a humbling reminder that Inca messengers once sprinted this route.) Less crowded alternatives include the 35-mile Camino Salcantay and the off-the-radar, 20.5-mile Lares Trek. Or you can zip to Machu Picchu in a single day by taking the train from Cusco to Aguas Calientes and catching a shuttle from there. You’ll have plenty of company.
Links:
More About Machu Picchu
http://www.inkanatura.com/en/machu-picchu-tours


2. Cotahuasi River

Raft a Grander Canyon

The chance to run whitewater in a canyon twice the depth of the Grand is reason enough to head for the Cotahuasi—and the rapids truly are extraordinary: At its late-spring peak, the froth flows for a hundred miles at continuous Class IV, with some stretches of Class V. Set out from the so-called White City, Arequipa, a former Spanish colonial settlement built mostly of pearly volcanic rock. From there, a 15,500-foot pass leads to the remote village of Cotahuasi, "a happy little place in the middle of nowhere," as BioBio Expeditions river guide Marc Goddard puts it. Then take a ten-mile, mule-assisted hike skirting thundering Sipia Falls before commencing seven rollicking days on the river.


3. Choquequirau

Trek to Machu Picchu’s Cool Kid Sister

Choquequirau is the Quechua word for "Inca ruin without hordes of tourists arriving by train." (Actually, it means "cradle of gold.") Machu Picchu’s sister city, tucked into the saddle of a 9,950-foot cloud forest ridge in the Andes, is nearly as impressive in size, stonework, and design. Outsiders discovered Choquequirau more than 300 years ago, but restoration began only in 1993. Even today, just a third has been excavated. Getting there is tough, but that means the site sees just a tiny fraction of Machu Picchu’s visitation and that permits can be arranged on the fly. The two-day trek starts in the town of Cachora, five hours from Cusco by bus. From there, a 20-mile trail plummets 5,000 feet to the Apurímac River, then climbs 4,000 feet to the ruins, where you can pitch camp outside—without another tourist in sight.
Links:
More about Choquequirao
http://www.inkanatura.com/en/alternative-inca-trails-tours/choquequirao

4. Kuelap & the World’s Third Highest Waterfall

Explore the Mysteries of the North

Long before the Inca swept through Peru, the Chachapoya people of the northern Andes established a mountaintop city called Kuelap (circa 500 a.d.) that holds its own in any battle of ancient engineering marvels. It’s been known to the modern world since 1843, when it was hailed as northern Peru’s "Tower of Babel," but since it didn’t have Hiram Bingham (and National Geographic’s ink) to tout its glories like Machu Picchu did, Kuelap remains little known and rarely visited to this day. The monumental fortress is an easy 23-mile drive south from the town of Chachapoyas. Kuelap has only three entrances, each a narrow staircase that slices through the outside wall, leading to a city of hundreds of limestone structures inside. Near Chachapoyas, you can also trek to the two-tiered, 2,530-foot Gocta Waterfall, the third highest in the world.
Links:
Chachapoyas, Kuelap and Cajamarca
http://www.inkanatura.com/en/chachapoyas

5. Cusco & the Sacred Valley

Find Your Comfort Zone

The base camp for Machu Picchu and one-time capital of the Inca Empire is today’s Kathmandu of Peru—a nexus of outfitters packed with great cheap eateries, five-star hotels, and open-air vendors crowding the narrow cobbled lanes (hawking alpaca sweaters instead of prayer flags). The altitude here (11,500 feet) dictates a go-slow strategy for gradual acclimation, so take a few days to explore locally. Just above the city sits the Inca fortress of Sacsahuaman, an eerie architectural wonder built with stones weighing hundreds of thousands of pounds each. About 11 miles northeast of Cusco, the terraced village of Pisac becomes a vast indigenous market on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, where Quechua-speaking locals sell woven hats to the tune of panpipe music. The Sacred Valley of the Inca merits a day to ogle more mind-blowing ruins, notably the massive pink granite complex at Ollantaytambo, and is just 32 miles away, accessible by train, bus, or cab.
Links:
Inca Trail to Machu Picchu
http://www.inkanatura.com/inca-trail-tours

Trek to awe-inspiring Machu Picchu

Shoshana Robuck BLOG (august 12, 2008)

IT was very sad for me to say goodbye to my new "family" and friends from Urubamba, especially the students, but it was also with a sense of excitement that the 10 of us climbed onto the bus, waving goodbye to the small town that we have called home for all this time.

The reason was that we were heading off to Machu Picchu, which is usually the highlight for most visitors to South America.

The first step on our journey began with the Lares trek -- an alternative route to the more popular Inca Trail.

It was a three-day hike that took us over mountaintops to reach a set of gorgeous hot springs in the mountain town of Lares.

The walk was physically challenging, especially since we hadn't really done any proper exercise in three months and were all very unfit!

Also, because of the extremely high altitude, breathing was difficult, but we took it slowly and tried to enjoy the scenery.

Reaching the top of the highest mountain (when we knew all we had to do now is go down) gave us such a feeling of euphoria.

The view of the snow-capped, towering mountain peaks was picturesque -- that moment seemed to me both the physical and emotional pinnacle of my entire journey so far.

And finally making it to the hot springs was such a high!

Our team of Peruvians who accompanied us on the trek had already set out our tents and were busy cooking our food when we arrived, so we changed into our swimming costumes and hopped right in.

The pools were hot -- I swear you could boil potatoes in that water -- but we stayed in until about midnight.

We hadn't felt such hot water in three months!

The next day we caught a train that would take us to the town of Aguas Calientes, the town situated below Machu Picchu.

We arrived late at night, so we explored the town a bit, but it was very touristy (everything massively overpriced!) and we were anxious for the following morning.

We woke up around 4am and caught one of the first buses up to Machu Picchu.
I'll just say it really was everything it's made out to be -– majestic and breath-taking!

We all stood in awe, watching the sun rise and illuminate Waynu Picchu that stood before us.
The typical image you see of Machu Picchu isn't actually Machu Picchu, in fact it is another mountain, Waynu Picchu.

We took plenty of pictures and then our lovely tour guide took us through the ruins, where we marvelled at the skill of the ancient Incas.

Experiencing and learning about the history of the Inca culture in Peru has been fascinating for me and so the trip to Machu Picchu was very fulfilling.

Article by Shoshana Robuck

Travel blog: Incas and more Part II

Thursday, 07 Aug 2008 15:07

Rhian Nicholson has swapped the bright lights of London for a three-month journey across South America from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. Here is her eighth blog as she continues her trek along the Inca Trail:

The final ascent up to Dead Woman's Pass is the real killer: you're staggering like a 12-year-old after four sips of cider and you're prepared to sell your own mother in return for a donkey.

In fact you're so busy concentrating on your next footstep you forget to actually look around at the scenery which is practically criminal as the views down into the valley are nothing short of stunning.

Then suddenly, as if by magic, you find yourself with 20 steps to go before reaching the top and the chance to smugly laugh at all those people still struggling away below. In all, the climb is supposed to take a moderately fit person around four hours: I did it in under two-and-a-half but by god did I pay the price the next day.

The laws of physics dictate that what goes up must come down - but putting a one-and-a-half hour, knee-jarringly steep downhill stretch (which you have to complete to get to the night's campsite) immediately after an uphill slog is nothing short of sadistic.

You'd think downhill would be easier but one wrongly-placed foot and you'd be plunging down enough steps to comfortably break every bone in your body. By this time the sun's blazing and the water in your bottle seems to have all but evaporated so the sight of the night's campsite looming in front of you is more welcome than a winning lottery ticket.

And the scenery is breathtaking with the tree-clad peaks rearing up on all sides and the fluffy white clouds nestling in the turquoise sky.

Camping itself is never the best option for those of us with permanently cold extremities but as fate would have it after lugging god knows how many pairs of socks and warm clothes in preparation for the sub-zero temperatures, it seemed positively tropical - although that may have had something to do with the rather large amount of hot red wine that appeared at dinnertime.

Once again the next day came round all too quickly and after a quick two-minute contemplation of whether the bronzed colour of my skin was actually a fledgling suntan or ingrained dirt (it turned out to be the latter), it was time to brave the cold morning air and another hour's uphill slog via an Inca look-out point.

The third day involves a mere eight hours of trekking along narrow rocky jungle paths with sheer drops on the other side just to keep you on your toes.

Luckily the hard slog is broken up by various Inca ruins, where the chosen pilgrims of old could spiritually cleanse themselves in ritual baths en route to Machu Picchu. But that goal feels like a billon light years away at this point.

Rolling into camp at night there's the prospect of hot showers to magic away the dirt (priceless) and cold beer on hand to celebrate the fact you're still alive - just…

That feeling of jubilation quickly fades, especially when you have to get up at 3.30am and sit outside the final freezing cold check-point in the pitch black for an hour to secure your spot at the front of the herd.

Then suddenly the gates open and the stampede starts as every trekker attempts to make it to the Sun Gate in time to see the sun rise over Machu Picchu.

There's nothing quite like traipsing as fast as your weary legs will carry you in the early morning darkness and trying not to stumble over the rocks littering the trail which would send you headfirst to your death over the cliff edge.

After shuffling along like a lame penguin for 45 minutes with the light gradually starting to filter through, in a final twist there are then just 50 incredibly steep steps between you and the fist glimpse of Machu Picchu.

Originally the Inca trail was a pilgrimage for a handful of people to reach the most sacred city of the Inca empire- and you can quite imagine how they felt when they finally reached their goal.
Standing at the top of the Sun Gate with jelly legs, aching lungs and an overwhelming sense of relief coursing through your veins, you can't help but grin like a maniac.

At 6am the first busloads of tourists who shirked the Inca trail challenge and caught the train from Cuzco have yet to pour in and so the city is remarkably still in its mystical splendour.

Grey stone ruins, temples and grassy terraces are set majestically against the deep green of the surrounding peaks.

To say it is spectacular is not giving it the full credit it deserves: at the risk of sounding melodramatic it's one of those sights that will remain in your memory forever - and if you happen to develop amnesia the sixty billion photos you take will certainly help to remind you.

On the downside it understandably gets packed out with tourists and when they start swarming about like a plague of hungry locusts, it loses something of its sublime charm.

Walking round the city is pretty hard on your knackered legs - so many steps in such a small place - and then there are the llamas with that manic glint in their eyes to sidestep.

Plus being on top of a mountain and being in South America, the terraces end abruptly with dizzying, vertical drops. Surely a good few Incas must have met their maker after one glass of Chicha too many on a cold and misty night…

But still, when you've heaved your weary body to a prime sunbathing position in the middle of Machu Picchu and you're half dozing, half contemplating your surroundings it's hard to imagine many other places which would be worth four days of pushing your body beyond it's natural limits.

Without a doubt it's the highlight of a trip to South America.

Rhian Nicholson

Article in travelbite.co.uk

Travel blog: Incas and more Part I

Friday, 01 Aug 2008 09:18

Rhian Nicholson has swapped the bright lights of London for a three-month journey across South America from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. Here is her seventh blog:

Following in the footsteps of the Incas is not an easy task. Initially the thought of covering a mere 33 kilometres over four days seems like a rather long walk in the park. However, throw in altitude, seemingly never-ending slopes and early morning starts and the reality is really rather gruelling.

You start bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and blister free at KM82 just down the road from Ollantaytambo, clutching your passport like it's an oil slicked eel - if you lose it your permit for the Inca trail disappears too.

So one strict passport control and a gaggle of women selling painted wooden walking sticks (the best five soles or one pound ever spent) and woven water bottle carriers (tacky but incredibly useful), you finally set a tentative foot on the legendary Inca trail.

To be fair it's a pretty easy start with a rock-strewn, fairly flat path taking you into the heart of the valley past grazing cows, tiny houses complete with roaming chickens and the odd electricity pylon that seems remarkably out of place.

Still, in the blazing sun it's not long until thirst kicks in and the sweat begins to pool on your brow. Then the uphill starts and before you know it you're traipsing along with your tongue hanging out in a rather unattractive manner, the altitude ripping the breath out of your body and a dull ache starting to plague your leg muscles.

At this point, three months preparation in the gym seems like it would have been time well spent. And if you need reminding of your abysmal fitness levels, the porters laden with 20kg packs containing gas stoves, tents and even a camping version of the kitchen sink bound past like energetic puppies.

How they manage to storm up the hills hour after hour is an incredible feat of human endurance - plus when they arrive at the campsite they proceed to put up your tent and guard your bags while you're still a distant speck on the horizon.

And for all their efforts as human donkeys they get paid peanuts - modern day slave labour is very much alive and kicking in South America.

On the plus side, their superhuman efforts leaves you free to concentrate on the essentials; putting one foot in front of the other and moaning about the lack of showers when you arrive into camp hot, sweaty and minging.

But the first day was a rather gentle introduction to what lay ahead. Rocking into camp after a mere five hours walking, desperate for water, covered in dust and with your hair matted with sweat, you're prepared to pay a large amount of money for a hot shower.

Unfortunately there aren't any: in fact the only running water is in the freezing cold stream nearby. And then there's the loos - the stench from them was bad enough to bring lunch back up into your throat even before they were frequented by people with 'stomach problems'.

Still the campsite itself was charmingly rustic with inquisitive donkeys grazing nearby and dirt paths leading to the huts where a handful of locals lived. And just to prove that the Andean people have a sense of humour, they called the tiny little shop selling water and chocolate the shopping centre.
With some much energy going out, you need an awful lot of food going in and the chef certainly didn't disappoint in producing carbohydrate-laden meals in sufficient quantities to feed an Olympic rowing team.

He also proved a dab hand at carving toucans out of aubergines. Being veggie there's only so much white rice, omelettes and pasta you can stomach but the chilli-stuffed potatoes would have had Gordon Ramsay purring like a kitten in front of a fire.

After a cold sleepless night, the 6am wake-up call was less than appreciated - and after a quick wet wipes wash it was time to gingerly climb back into the previous day's grime-encrusted clothes to face the toughest challenge of the whole trail: Dead Woman's Pass.

To say it's an uphill struggle would be a major understatement. At 7am it's freezing cold, your muscles have gone on strike and you have the prospect of a five hour trek up steep rocky paths staring you in the face.

At that point the urge to kidnap a donkey becomes almost irresistible. Still, somehow the basics of how to walk return to your numb legs and with your stick firmly grasped in your hand you start to make slow progress up the mountain, initially along gravely inclines with stunning views over the valley below.

Indeed taking photos every tenth step is a brilliant way to kid yourself that you don't really have the fitness level of a stoned couch potato.

Then just as you're getting into your stride, and your lungs become less likely to make a bid for freedom out of your rib cage, you hit the stone steps. And not just any steps.

These are irregularly shaped, some steep, some slippery and all contributing to the painful lactic acid build up in your legs. And they seem to go on forever. The guides tell you to zig zag across like the porters to save energy, although this just serves to increase the time it takes to reach what you think/hope/pray is the top.

In my expert trekking opinion (hmmmm), it was easier to bolt up the middle and deal with the burn later. Add to this the bitter cold and your body can't make up it's mind whether it's hot, cold or on the verge of collapse.

Indeed, the Inca trail seems to have a rather nasty way of playing with your mind: you think you've reached the top of one section only to turn the corner and find another steep stretch yawning out in front of you.

And the only way is up, meaning the altitude makes it harder and harder to keep the pace, or even to keep upright. All the way the stream of porters is steadily plodding along in front of you.

To be continued…

Article in travelbite.co.uk

The Possessed

By ARTHUR LUBOW
Published: June 24, 2007

The stones at Machu Picchu seem almost alive.

They may be alive, if you credit the religious beliefs of the ruler Pachacuti Yupanqui, whose subjects in the early 15th century constructed the granite Inca complex, high above a curling river and nestled among jagged green peaks.

To honor the spirits that take form as mountains, the Inca stoneworkers carved rock outcrops to replicate their shapes. Doorways and windows of sublimely precise masonry frame exquisite views. But this extraordinary marriage of setting and architecture only partly explains the fame of Machu Picchu today.

Just as important is the romantic history, both of the people who built it in this remote place and of the explorer who brought it to the attention of the world. The Inca succumbed to Spanish conquest in the 16th century; and the explorer Hiram Bingham III, whose long life lasted almost as many years as the Inca empire, died in 1956. Like the stones of Machu Picchu, however, the voices of the Inca ruler and the American explorer continue to resonate.

Imposingly tall and strong-minded, Bingham was the grandson of a famous missionary who took Christianity to the Hawaiian islanders. In his efforts to locate lost places of legend, the younger Bingham proved to be as resourceful. Bolstered by the fortune of his wife, who was a Tiffany heiress, and a faculty position at Yale University, where he taught South American history, Bingham traveled to Peru in 1911 in hopes of finding Vilcabamba, the redoubt in the Andean highlands where the last Inca resistance forces retreated from the Spanish conquerors.

Instead he stumbled upon Machu Picchu. With the joint support of Yale and the National Geographic Society, Bingham returned twice to conduct archeological digs in Peru. In 1912, he and his team excavated Machu Picchu and shipped nearly 5,000 artifacts back to Yale.

Two years later, he staged a final expedition to explore sites near Machu Picchu in the Sacred Valley.

If you have visited Machu Picchu, you will probably find Bingham's excavated artifacts at the Yale Peabody Museum in New Haven to be a bit of a letdown. Mostly, the pieces are bones, in varying stages of decomposition, or pots, many of them in fragments.

Unsurpassed as stonemasons, engineers and architects, the Incas thought more prosaically when it came to ceramics.

Leaving aside unfair comparisons to the jaw-dropping Machu Picchu site itself, the pottery of the Inca, even when intact, lacks the drama and artistry of the ceramics of earlier civilizations of Peru like the Moche and Nazca.

Everyone agrees that the Machu Picchu artifacts at Yale are modest in appearance. That has not prevented, however, a bare-knuckled disagreement from developing over their rightful ownership.

Peru says the Bingham objects were sent to Yale on loan and their return is long overdue. Yale demurs.

In many ways, the dispute between Yale and Peru is unlike the headline-making investigations that have impelled the Metropolitan Museum in New York, the Getty Museum in Los Angeles and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston to repatriate ancient artifacts to their countries of origin.
It does not revolve around criminal allegations of surreptitious tomb-raiding and black-market antiquities deals. But if the circumstances are unique, the background sentiments are not.

Other countries as well as Peru are demanding the recovery of cultural treasures removed by more powerful nations many years ago. The Greeks want the Parthenon marbles returned to Athens from the British Museum; the Egyptians want the same museum to surrender the Rosetta Stone and, on top of that, seek to spirit away the bust of Nefertiti from the Egyptian Museum in Berlin.

Where might it all end? One clue comes in a sweeping request from China. As a way of combating plunder of the present as well as the past, the Chinese government has asked the United States to ban the import of all Chinese art objects made before 1911. The State Department has been reviewing the Chinese request for more than two years.

The movement for the repatriation of ''cultural patrimony'' by nations whose ancient past is typically more glorious than their recent history provides the framework for the dispute between Peru and Yale. To the scholars and administrators of Yale, the bones, ceramics and metalwork are best conserved at the university, where ongoing research is gleaning new knowledge of the civilization at Machu Picchu under the Inca.

Outside Yale, most everyone I talked to wants the collection to go back to Peru, but many of them are far from disinterested arbiters. In the end, if the case winds up in the United States courts, its disposition may be determined by narrowly legalistic interpretations of specific Peruvian laws and proclamations.

Yet the passions that ignite it are part of a broad global phenomenon. ''My opinion reflects the opinion of most Peruvians,'' Hilda Vidal, a curator at the National Museum of Archaeology, Anthropology and History of Peru in Lima, told me.

''In general, anything that is patrimony of the cultures of the world, whether in museums in Asia or Europe or the United States, came to be there during the times when our governments were weak and the laws were weak, or during the Roman conquest or our conquest by the Spanish.
Now that the world is more civilized, these countries should reflect on this issue. It saddens us Peruvians to go to museums abroad and see a Paracas textile.
I am hopeful that in the future all the cultural patrimony of the world will return to its country of origin.''

Behind her words, I could imagine a gigantic sucking whoosh, as the display cases in the British Museum, the Smithsonian, the Louvre and the other great universal museums of the world were cleansed of their contents, leaving behind the clattering of a few Wedgwood bowls and SÃ