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What Happened Machu Picchu

From the top of the pass

Early next morning I go check-out and head to the address where I wait for the minibus To begin the trek. In the group are all but two English Argentina. At 7:00 we leave for our first stop: a step Andes at 4,300 meters above sea level. From there we catapult down the downhill mountain bike to reach the village of Santa Maria.

It takes half a day's downhill, there is also offered lunch: with unleavened bread into a slices.
I have no desire to star in describing the scenery, however spectacular, which I saw as we descended, the thing that most impressed me during these four days are the places where these people live. Completely isolated from the hours away our civilization, those who are not in the villages living in another world: no electricity in some cases as the only livelihood her chickens the land for farming and barter when it needs something that can not self-produce, also remedied for some soles from us tourists you want to take a picture.

The center of santa maria

arrived in Santa Maria is the crossroads at which I was a city which in Italy would call "slums." Asphalt is not existed for many kilometers before the roof is always a corrugated iron and often the walls, the bricks of the houses outside the villages are made from mud and straw third element that I do not know, being in the middle of the jungle and a river in the Andean air, there are more insects that nitrogen atoms. From 3 to 6 at some point you have to keep a hand in front of your nose and mouth to avoid inhaling any fly. Then flies that are not common: they have a yellow body and despite the repellent bite and suck blood, in contrast to our lovely now after the bite of these mosquitoes (cursed) is not just a bubble, but leaving a few drops of blood, the continuous shall ignite scratching the bite, if you can stand the itch is just a red dot on the skin.
I wanted to say something about these small towns in the middle of the Andes, but digression on the mosquitoes made me forget everything.

few hours before the collapse

The hostel is very basic (even if a synonym can be more emphatic: Peruvian) only one bathroom for about thirty people window my room is broken, newspaper and scotch replace the glass very well. I'm in a room with two Englishmen, three came at us while we throw on the bed and wonder what we can do until dinner the guide offers us rafting. The river for the rafting I had my first encounter with the multitude of insects that is here, after a dip in the river I found myself on a calf a species of earthworm. In the evening we went to the restaurant for a menu applicant in the next four days: soup and rice, not bad at first because they have a great variety of soups, but the third time you feel the need of something substantial.

The second day, another early, the five already on the march in the street you only see the village children who go to take the colectivos that will take them to school, the nearest town that resembles something civilized is a couple of hours away, the distance is not excessive, but the lack of a proper road makes traveling much slower and more difficult.

picure

The first 5km is not difficult, it's cool to walk up along the river (killed insects), to give me more energy as we all chew coca leaves, is a strange feeling to have in pocket for a bag whose contents I think I would be arrested in Italy but here it is perfectly legal, even across the various plantations of coca has the same effect.
After an hour we leave the river and start to climb up the mountain every half hour walk to meet Peruvian women with their traditional costumes and hats for men, selling water and the farther we get from the village as the price rises. After a couple of hours we reach an isolated house on a mountain ridge, there are hammocks for rest and a kind of miniature zoo to ask for money to those who pass if he wants to take pictures with animals, the most interesting is a picure stealing bottles of gatorade and drink content.

my decline started around midday, as I was told that he would not cold but I took the cap fleece jacket and hat from Peru, a serious mistake ago inhuman and a warm hat that makes things worse, I arrive at the restaurant for lunch with a headache and not even touch my epic fantastic soup, in theory, three other hour walk separate us from the hot springs and from there another half hour to the next village. I do I can do it and together with a Chilean who has touched my own fate I do bring to the village by the owner The rough road is not helping my headache.
Santa Teresa, about one thousand inhabitants of the village is located 32km from yesterday, is a bit more developed than the first: the main street is paved and cemented, but there is also a pharmacy, I came back this very useful Having not brought them aspirin and paracetamol do not even the dissenter because I thought I would just be unlucky to get sick in these 4 days. In the pharmacy there are two women who do not give the impression of knowing what you sell but when you have no choice ...

not scratch

I sleep all afternoon and evening the headache I was completely spent. Soup for dinner again, to enliven the evening will take care of a monkey who sneaks into the restaurant and starts running for the tables, taking bread, drinking from glasses and jumping into the soup of some hapless bystander nell'ilarità, the monkey will disappear within a lot in the hands of the owner of the restaurant. After that I stop eating and go to the pharmacy to ask for something to prevent the fever as I start to feel bad, arrival in the room with no energy, I have to lie down before engaging in a bloody battle with the bugs that I discovered live in my own room. It will survive one, which despite having walked twice managed to escape through a hole in the wall, I spent the night with the lights on in terror to come back to avenge his comrades. Obviously, the beetle has not come but the fever.

"The Station"

The third day was not quite able to walk, then why I have abandoned the risotrante near the railroad linking Santa Teresa to Agua Calientes the only sign of civilization in these lands lost. I wait until the evening sleeping on a hammock in the restaurant. Also take the train here is a special event: there is a station, only one track in the mountains around it and Peruvian tourists with huge bags as suitcases waiting. The mountain is too steep for the train before it leaves the valley must undertake a march back and forth four or five times. The arrival in Agua Calientes is much folklore: the tracks crossing the main street and is downloaded on the sidewalk in front of restaurants.

the fourth day are resurrected in time in time for Machu Picchu at dawn in a row I start to get a ticket and I can also do a good walk of 4 hours. But as they say luck is blind but bad luck sees us well: shortly after they entered the archaeological site of the engine that pulls the lens of the camera ceases to perform his duty ...

And finally Machu Picchu

end of this interminable post ...

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