Machu Picchu

To get to Machu Picchu you have to go through Cuzco.

Cuzco is beautiful. It's what an Andean city should look like. It claims to be the highest city in the world at 11,200 feet. And they warn you: Watch out for the altitude sickness!

A week ago I was skiing at Winter Park in Colorado. The town of Winter Park is at 9100 feet and the top of the mountain is above 12,000 ft. I should have no problem here in Cuzco.

And yet after I arrive I'm feeling lightheaded. Everyone here heartily encourages you to drink coca tea or chew coca leaves to ward off altitude sickness. Guinness beer used to advertise "Guinness for Strength" to pregnant women. Here in Cuzco they encourage you to chew on the leaves from whence we derive cocaine.

I like the coca tea and it does help a little. Later I'll drink a coca cola with dinner. I think that helps more.

They advise you to stay a few days in Cuzco to "acclimate" to the altitude before going on to Machu Picchu. How is staying longer in Cuzco going to help? It's even higher than Machu Picchu. Besides, my schedule doesn't allow that extra time. I have to head on the train to Machu Picchu early tomorrow morning.

The checkin girl at the hotel is quite nice, she tells me where a salsa club is. But she also advises me that I shouldn't dance tonight. I should rest instead to help avoid altitude sickness. And she says I should drink more coca tea and eat a light dinner without any meat. I know she's trying to be helpful but this is too much mothering for me.

I get a nice big meal of alpaca with Aji sauce and then find the salsa club. I am tired so I only dance for a healthy hour.

The next morning I'm on the train to Machu Picchu. I have enough time when I get there to hike around the major parts of Machu Picchu. I'm tired in the evening so I get a good meal of steak with red wine sauce and a creole soup, then finish it off with a slice of chocolate cake.

Have you noticed the pattern yet? You may want to pause here if you haven't figured it out yet.


I consistently let my pride and determination override the advice given to me by others. I'm not sure if this is one of the seven deadly sins but it should be. I will pay the price for my sinning later tonight.

My body had been kind to me up to this point. Apparently now it decided to teach me a lesson.

That night I had the flu with full force. The grand meal that I had eaten came back up and other things went out the other end. Sleeping wasn't really an option that night so I had to entertain myself with Spanish language TV between frequent repeat visits to the bathroom.

I had planned to get up early the next day to hike up to Huayna Picchu, the highest point on Machu Picchu. That isn't an option any more. The Sun Gate, though, is only one hour round trip. That seems like a reasonable objective.

I'll force myself to keep a nice, slow pace. I soon realize I don't have any say in the matter. My body forces me to slow down much more than I had planned. On the uphill and downhill parts I'm compelled to pause between every step. On the flat parts I'm allowed a slow walking pace. Grandmothers are passing me and asking if I'm ok. They offer food and water to this injured bird but food would only cause me more problems and even water I must drink sparingly.

For a while I question if I can make it. I'd like to turn back but then I'd have to sit in the train station for hours, a fate even worse than this. So I slowly move forward.

Eventually my illness and I reach a agreement: It won't kill me and I won't enjoy living. Accepting fate is important to moving forward so I accept my discomfort.

I reach the top but I'm in no mood to enjoy the natural beauty. I pause and rest for a while, then start back down. This part should be easier but I'm going even slower now. I would gladly accept some extra water now but all of the grandmothers have already completed their hike.

So I keep going, step after agonizingly slow step. I want to quit now but I'm already headed back. That is already as much quitting as I can do.

Eventually I see the bottom. It's teasing me: it's close now but it will still take me a long time to get there. It's taken me over 3 hours, a trip the grandmothers were able to do in one.

Amazon

The morning after arriving in Peru I catch a flight to Puerto Maldonado. This town is one of the good access points for the Peruvian Amazon.

This is not the plane I flew in on.

Puerto Maldonado is the last road in this direction. We must take a boat about two hours up river from here. The scenery reminds me of Apocalypse Now.

Occasionally you see a small house along the river. Not even a village, these are small farmers that live along the river.

Poor people from the Andes also come here to mine gold in the river. They pump sludge up from river muck, then filter out the water and the mud so that only sand and gold remain. They add mercury which binds to the gold. You can then pour out the mercury and heat it until the mercury boils away leaving small amounts of pure gold.

Mercury, you ask? Doesn't that sound dangerous? Mercury can make you mad as a hatter in liquid form, and I imagine it's no less dangerous when boiled into a gaseous form. Can you imagine breathing in mercury vapors? The government tries to get the miners to use companies that capture and re-use the mercury. But the miners don't like the nanny state telling them what to do, so they keep doing it the old way. The miners want more money in their pocket to bring back to their families in the Andes. I hear that some miners also use that money to buy alcohol and other vices in Puerto Maldonado.

About two hours up river we arrive at the lodge, Refugio Amazones. Each day we'll hike or take the boat to a clay lick, or a small lake or other things nearby. The hiking is not hard but it requires patience, something I've been eagerly trying to acquire. You can hear animals frequently but it's hard to see them. We try to be quiet but the animals probably hear us before we hear them.

A frog sits by my window while I brush my teeth. He doesn't seem to mind my intrusion into his jungle.


Sometimes we talk while hiking.
One guide explains his thoughts on the economic recession that he heard from the Peruvian Economics Minister: "People with four houses suddenly found that they could only afford two of them, and people with four cars now can only afford two of them. Do you have any extra houses or cars? No? Then don't worry about the economy and go on with your life."

What is that? That's a picture of me and my guide, Jose Antonio. I'm not sure why he's holding the banana leaves near my ears.

We're waiting at a hideout and Jose notices a spot on a root in a creek about 30 meters from us. "Es una anaconda." I take a few pictures from where we are. We stealthily work out way down to the creek until we are about 5 feet from him. This is the third time that Jose Antonio has seen an anaconda, he's quite excited. I'm able to get a short movie of the back half of it before it slithers back into the muddy creek.