IV.II.IV – The Ravage of Time
IV.II.IV
THE RAVAGE OF TIME
The rocky and foggy terrain surrounded by the icy glacier peaks of the first day slowly gave way to warmer, greener surroundings as we neared the tropical rainforest. Once again, I was in a jungle! With arms in the air and toes curled upwards as much as Blister would allow, I took a deep breath as finally, I was in my element again!
Ahh to be surrounded by ferns and fruit, trees and roots, rivers and waterfalls, flora and fauna… From the pink Sobralia to the rare, yellow Telipogon orchids, from hummingbirds and tanagers to falcons and condors and whatever else you can imagine, there it was. The whole jungle, abuzz with life! I mean don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the city life. I enjoy driving and eating out and going to the spa and gym and studying at a fancy hospital and being generally high maintenance and spoiled and chic and urban and whatnot. I enjoy that. But I don’t love it love it. The jungle though? That I do love. Even if it’s constantly raining and I’m soaked to the bone and muddy as hell. It’s nature; it’s all good baby! Man what I wouldn’t give to be Tarzan or Mowgli…
Over the following couple of days, we walked a distance of around 35 kilometres. It was slow and steady progress, especially during the uphill parts. From sleeping in hobbit holes to stopping at a coffee farm – wait, I cannot simply skip over this part?! You know me and my undying love for coffee!
There it was, smack right in the middle of the Peruvian Andes, a coffee farm! Well, coffee farm(s) more like. Given the large quantity of farms found on the entire mountain range and how remote they are, our guide explained that different groups alternate between different ones during every tour in order to give all of them equal exposure and thus sell their goods. Whilst we were there, we were given some first hand experience as to the entire process.
You’d think it’s just as simple as picking beans, but apparently, even that has a specific technique to it. Whilst one of us would grab onto a tree and hold it down, the rest would busy themselves trying to pick the beans from the top of the tree which would have otherwise gone unclaimed. We picked as many coffee beans as it was humanly possible (something they do day in, day out), and then, with a couple of bags full to the brim, we sat out to turn it into actual coffee. We removed their shells using a primitive huller, roasted them over open fire and finally ground the beans before we brewed ourselves a well-earned cup of Joe. To think they usually do this all on their own… Quite impressive really. Especially getting to see how much work is put behind every single cup of coffee… Once again, I feel obligated to apologise to the mules who had to carry all the extra weight of the coffee bags I bought.
On the third day, our path finally converged with the Inca trail and my terribly tragic disease; my FOMO, could finally remit. I could technically claim I had trekked on the Inca trail… Here, the guides took the opportunity to tell us us a bit about the Incas.
The Inca people, much to my surprise as an uncultured idiot, were not an ancient people. The Incan civilisation was established in Cusco over 500 years ago and lasted a little bit less than a century when the Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizarro killed the last Incan emperor. Their origin is to this day, and probably until the end of time, still debated, with various sources claiming Manco Cápac was the original leader of the tribe and Pachacuti being the first emperor who began their territorial expansion; incorporating half the Andes mountain range and a large part of western South America under Incan jurisdiction. The same emperor is said to have built Machu Picchu in the fifteenth century as a royal estate.
These people’s beliefs are based on the cosmos, with the movements of the planets affecting the agricultural cycles; something that is central to their way of life. They also believed that the cosmos are divided into three worlds, otherwise known as ‘Pacha’:
- Hanan Pacha: The upper realm is represented by the condor and incorporates everything from the sky to the most distant galaxies. It is ruled by the sun god Inti; the most important god in Incan mythology for whom Coricancha was built.
- Kay Pacha: The middle realm is represented by the puma and is the perceptible world in which we all live in. This usually serves as the nexus between the other two worlds.
- Ukhu Pacha: The lower realm is represented by the snake and is considered as both the realm of death; ruled by Supay, and the realm of new life; ruled by the goddess of fertility Pacha Mama.
We were also told that the Incas were particularly skilful, especially with regards to craftwork, engineering and architecture. In an effort to show us how handy they were, our guide, who comes from a Quechuan background, demonstrated how a rope bridge used to be built using mountain grass twisted upon itself. Having each of us stand on the hand-made rope whilst two other held it in mid-air did indeed show how durable and strong it was. Truly an impressive civilisation!
The Inca Trail led us to our final camping site Llaqtapata; an archaeological site full of ruins, standing atop a ridge that directly faces the destination of most who visit this site. There they were; right in front of my very eyes. The ruins of Machu Picchu. The only things standing in my way were two days of trekking and this giant gorge in between both mountains. I was so close I could already feel that sense of wonder and magic one would expect. Those ruins had had me captivated since I was a kid and had been the focus of my obsession for the previous couple of days. Those ruins, cradled in between Machu Picchu mountain and Huayna Picchu mountain, were just within my reach. I’d be crossing off one of the seven Ancient Wonders of the World in just a few days.
That view… That view was mesmerizing, but what it promised was something beyond that. I’d feel exactly the way I felt back in the Acropolis, the Roman Forum and the Ciudad Perdida. Like I was suspended in between the past and the present, as if I were back in the glory days of such places though everything had aged, decayed and got ravaged by time. A nostalgia for a time unlived… It immediately made me think of a poem written by Percy Byshhe Shelley I had studied back when I was a kid…
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
I shall never forget those moments spent on the mountainside just contemplating… Staring into the distance for hours on end. Trying to remember every single detail. The contour of the valleys and the mountains, the ruins etched upon them, their peaks lost between the heavens and the clouds… The horses softly braying right next to us as we sat down on the grass, spellbound by our friend’s mellifluous voice as she sang La Vie en Rose… And then darkness befell and was soon swept away by the sea of stars that shone above us all night long. What a night…
Sorry, didn’t mean to be a faux Poe. I can’t be poetic for the life of me. But what I lack in charm and finesse I make up for with humour and crass. Damn it, I did it again.