IV.II.V – The Old Mountain
IV.II.V
THE OLD MOUNTAIN
The fourth day… The fourth day was fine. The fourth day meant we’d be walking around 15 kilometres along some train rails. It’d be a straight path on a flat terrain, not too challenging.
In fact, the only things that made it interesting were the random conversations I had with my fellow trekkers and the powerwalk race I had with this guy from another group who made it a point to let everyone know he was in the navy. Mister Jackass; a carbon copy of Duke Nukem and the epitome of toxic masculinity, recounted all his expeditions and hikes and treks and missions and god knows what else he had embarked upon to let us know how oh so superior he was. I mean, he was in the navy after all. Pity he ate our dust.
At the finish line, civilisation was waiting for us. Four days of trekking had led us to Aguas Calientes; a town located in the Urubamba river valley, teeming with all kinds of tourists who had just gotten there by bus. We’d be taking a bus ourselves the following day to get to the same magical lost land of the Incas we had been yearning for all along. And boy was that disappointing. We climbed and walked and hiked and trekked, we persisted and persevered, fought through blood, sweat and tears, survived bruises and blisters and a race with an idiot to get to the magical lost land of the Incas and…. this? A bustling town at the foot of the mountain? Talk about a let down! That said, I do have to admit that we did need to be pampered a bit. We practically ran to the thermal baths, had a huge meal and enjoyed a good night’s sleep at a luxurious hotel.
Only that wasn’t what I was after. I wanted that same feeling I experienced back at the Ciudad Perdida. I wanted to reach the thousandth step against all odds and be faced with the majestic view all at once.
Instead, a bus full of random tourists picked us up at dawn the following day, drove all the way up to the Wonder of the World, let us down and went down again to do the same thing over and over. Talk about anticlimactic… I wish I could say none of that mattered. I wish I could say that seeing the ruins inundated with people didn’t take away from the magic of it all. I wish I could say it was just as wonderful as I had thought it’d be. But it really wasn’t. And this isn’t me trying to be a negative Narius. To me it kinda felt like taking a stroll around some beautiful ruins, that’s it. Still cool, not life-changing though.
So, a little bit about Machu Picchu… First of all, it’s actually supposed to be pronounced Machu Pikchu; which means ‘old mountain’ in Quechuan.
The historic sanctuary is believed to have been constructed by order of emperor Pachacuti around the year 1450 and used for around 80 years before being abandoned by the Incans during the times of the Spanish Conquests. However, its existence remained all hushed up until 1911 when American historian Hiram Bingham discovered the overgrown ruins with the aid of some local farmers and returned again the following year to start the excavation. Populated by some 750 servants, the archaeological wonder is divided into residential, agricultural and ceremonial areas; with over 200 buildings found along hundreds of terraces that were used to grow corn and potatoes.
Not surprisingly, the main religious and ceremonial monuments; Intiwasi and Intihuatana both have to do with the cosmos and agriculture. Intiwasi; otherwise known as the Temple of the Sun, is dedicated to the sun god Inti; much like Coricancha in Cusco. It features three windows, two of which are oriented to the winter and the summer solstice. Then there’s Intihuatana; a weirdly shaped stone which is believed to be a sundial that ties the sun to its orbit. Keyword ‘believed’, okay? The stone casts the longest shadow on the summer solstice, the shortest on the winter one and no shadow at all during both equinoxes. I might just be another run off the mill dumbass, but as far as my astronomical knowledge goes, that’s quite cool.
Whilst the sense of awe and wonder I had been awaiting did not exactly reach my expectations, a lot can still be said about the views. For starters, the contrast between the apple green grass covering the terraces and the grey, cloudy sky and dry-stone walls of the houses makes for a spectacular sight – truly one to behold.
Then there was also the hike to the summit of mountain Machu Picchu. Punctuated by twelve checkpoints, each offering incredible vistas with the ruins underneath and mount Huayna Picchu on the opposite side, the climb took our breath away in both metaphorical and literal senses. But as the warriors that we had become, we managed. And the view from the top? Well, it’s subjective. Depends on how much of a fan of fog one is. At the very top, we were practically standing in the middle of a cloud. Which admittedly was kinda cool. And hey, we did catch a glimpse of the ruins at one point; fleeting though it was.
And so, this adventure too came at an end. We climbed down the mountain, took the bus back, had one final dinner, and after a train ride which seemed to have undone all the efforts of the previous few days, the Salkantay Family said its tearful goodbyes. From shaming dogs, chickens, kids and llamas (don’t ask) to singing countless tunes… From powering through uphills to powering through my jokes… From strangers to family… This was one hell of an experience with one hell of a group; thank you.