On the Trail of the Inca / Part Two

(28 July)
Inca Trail, Peru

I´ve decided I´m in this for the long haul no matter what. There´s no turning back! In the morning, though my stomach is still clearly bad, I´ve regained much of my energy. I will need it for this day - for the steep climb over Warmiwañusca, aka Dead Woman´s Pass (1,272 ft.).

The trail is steep, and the main focus is on getting oxygen into one´s lungs while making progress on the trail. I take slow steps, and rest every few minutes. We climb for about five hours towards the pass. My stomach remains much of my focus, but I begin to feel a part of the immense landscape around me, and finally take out my camera for the first time as the Pass comes into view.

As I reach the pass, condors are flying overhead through the clouds, around the snow capped peaks. Tired trekkers and chaskes are resting weary muscles and bones. A group of some ninety school boys and their teacher are singing the national anthem and shouting, "Viva Perú!". Today is Peru´s Independence Day. I am feeling relief that I have made it, and have not had to turn back on the trail. This is the point of no return. Once you have passed this spot, the only way is onward.

The two hours left before reaching camp are downhill. I take it slow, and enjoy the surroundings, as the landscape turns closer to the cloud forest - the transitional ecosystem between the Andes and the rainforest. I focus on the stones beneath my feet - laid by Inca hands some 800 years ago, and the ever-changing array of plant species at my sides.

Descending to Camp

Camp at Paqamayu

On the Trail of the Inca / Part One

(27 July)

Cuzco - Inca Trail, Peru

Traveling in the Andes, there are two things you can be assured of, both of which I experienced in their fullness on the Inca Trail: 1.) Witnessing landscapes, colors, skies, mountains, people like no other, and 2.) Having your stomach invaded by parasites.

4:45am Friday morning. My alarm clock goes off in my hotel room in Cuzco. The trek company is to pick me up at 5:20 to set out for the 4-day trek on the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. I´ve had a fever, chills, aches, sweating, dizziness, headaches all night. What am I going to do? I´m really sick! It may be altitude sickness, I think, but I´ve been fine two days in Cuzco - why would it be affecting me now? I drop my bags at the door, and tell the guide I´ve been sick all night. He says he thinks it may be the altitude. "Let´s see how you do the first couple of hours, if need be, there will be the opportunity to turn back, and you could join us at Machu Picchu by train on Monday."

We board a bus and pick up the other members of our trek group - fifteen in total, and head to Ollantaytambo - the last town before the starting point of the Inca Trail - where we will get breakfast and pick up any last minute necessities for the trail. The bus rumbles and bumps constantly up and down. The window won´t close, and the air outside is cold. My stomach is starting to turn on me. I´ve been planning this part of the trip since last December. The tour comapnay´s website brags that no one has ever had to turn back on the trail. I try to get used to the idea that I will be the first; that, after giving it the obligatory shot, I will turn back on the trail and return to Cuzco to overcome whatever is ailing me.

The bus drops us at the head of the trail. There are dirty shacks, animals, mountain women carrying baskets full of drinks and snacks to sell, as trekkers prepare their things to set off on the trail. Soon, we are off - after showing our passports and permits at the control office, we cross a small suspension bridge over the Urubamba River, and set off on the trail. My head is still spinning, as is my stomach as I put one foot in front of the other, the morning sun now shining down upon us.

The first day´s hike is not terribly long or difficult - about six hours, mostly even ground, with a few ups and downs, but my head is throbbing, my stomach, churning, and I have little energy. I don´t even take my camera out all day - which is a sure sign that I´m not well! When we get to camp, the tents have already been set up by our porters, or chaskes, as they are called in Quechua. It´s a term that means "swift-footed ones." The chaske tradition goes back to Inca times. It is a proud and revered profession - something akin to the athlete in Ancient Greece. I´m told the Incas would actually hold games wherein chaskes would compete to carry heavy loads over steep mountain passes. It´s also one of the most sought after positions in Peru to be a chaske on the Inca Trail, as these men are part of a long tradition, and make a decent living by Peruvian standards. There are regulations now about how much they can be required to carry (20 kilos). As you walk along the trail, you hear, "Chaske!," and you step aside to let him pass, with a mountain of bags and equipment on his back. I see the chaskes go by, and my fixation on my own burden and lack of energy begins to fade.

I get some sleep at camp, and after dinner, our guides, David and Gladys, take me and one other sick trekker to the Medic office down in the small village below our campsite. The village is celebrating its 64th anniversary, so there is the sound of a loud generator outside, and blaring music, as the handful of residents gather in the central courtyard. Inside, the two medics ask us questions about our symptoms in their tiny institutional green office lit by a single candle. The woman fishes in the back for a stash of pills. She examines them under a flashlight. I am to take one of each twice daily for three days.

We return to our tents and settle in for the night, under an ocean of stars. The sound of the generator and the Andean music from the village below, and the occasional explosion of fireworks swirl into a surreal dreamscape.

...Off on the Inca Trail

Cuzco, Peru



Tomorrow morning at 5:40am, there will be a knock at my hotel door, and I will be off on the Inca Trail for four days, reaching Machu Picchu early on Monday morning. ...More to come when I get back!

Early Morning over the Andes

Flight from Lima to Cuzco, Peru

Train to the Sky

(24 July)

Central Andean Railway from Huancayo to Lima, Peru

At 7am punto the wheels of the Ferrocarril Central Andino screech off on their tracks through the dusty shantytowns, the outskirts of Huancayo, and on through the Rio Mantarro Valley. We climb from the nearly 10,000 feet altitude of the altiplano towards the route´s peak - La Galera Station - at 15,681 feet above sea level, the highest train station in the world.

Actually, it´s the second highest. There´s a certain sense of resentment and dismissal among Peruvians at the recent Chinese feat of topping this railroad´s claim to be the highest railroad in the world. With modern engineering and big money, the Chinese managed to construct a state-of-the art high-speed train across Tibet in a few years. This train has a longer and more difficult story to tell.

Originally opened after forty years of construction in 1908, the railroad was designed by Polish engineer Ernest Malinowski for the transport of copper and zinc from the Andes to the Pacific ports at Lima. Service was disrupted by a war with Chile, the internal struggle with the Shining Path guerrilla organization, and finally came to a stand still in 1991, after one of the stations was blown up by the Shining Path.

As roads and bus service through the mountains improved in the interim, it seemed the train was down for good. Lucho Hurtado, the man behind Incs del Peru, the Huancayo-based travel company responsible for my weaving courses and accommodations there, was one individual determined not to let the train die. For fifteen years, Lucho led efforts to raise money and convince the government to restore the train service.

In recent years, the dark cloud of terrorism and the Shining Path has lifted from the Central Andes, and tourists have started to return. Finally, late last year, it was announced that passenger service on the railway would begin again in 2007.

Thus, I am riding this train today and witnessing this spectacular landscape because of the blood, sweat, and tears of the Peruvian people who scaled these breathtaking heights to dig tunnels and lay tracks more than one hundred years ago, with the limited technology they possessed; who have seen their lives and land disrupted by war and terrorism; the people who, today, as we pass through every farm and village, run out from their homes and schools, stick their heads out of windows, hold their young children up to watch, and they wave and smile as we pass, excited that their train is running again!

Artisan Villages of the Rio Mantaro Valley

Rio Mantaro Valley, Peru

On Saturday I went on a tour of the traditional artisan villages in the Mantaro Valley, around Huancayo. Our first stop was to the village of Cochas, where there is a rich and long tradition of gourd carving. The gourds are shipped into the mountains from the coastal areas where they are grown. Once here, they are dried and scorched. The artisans then carve them with woodworking tools.

Color is applied by burning the surface with a torch.

The designs can be quite elaborate, and often tell traditional stories of life in the countryside, such as this design, which depicts the process of traditional weaving - shearing and spinning of the wool, and the weaving itself.

We also stopped in the village of Hualhuas, which is know for its weaving traditions. I got to try my hand at spinning wool, and we got to peek into the weaving studios where much of the work here is produced.

I try spinning wool

Naturally dyed yarn - dyes are made from plants, fruits and vegetables found in the area.

Looms and yarns in the weaving studio.

Ecuador Tries Novel Balance Of Oil And Environment

Here´s a news story in today´s New York Times about Oil development in Ecuador´s rainforest. The town of El Coca is where the big oil tycoons hang out, and where I took the boat into the rainforest.