Getting there 06/11 – Cusco Day 6 It is a Friday. By Tuesday afternoon, Morgan and I were ruined after basically two days of shopping around for Machu Picchu (MP) tours and treks. We ended up settling on a small tour which included a round bus trip from Cusco (C) to Hidroelectrica (H) (which is 2.5hrs walk along train tracks to Aguas Calientes (AC) which is the place everyone stays near Machu Picchu), three meals, one night at a hostel in AC, MP ticket, MP mountain ticket and MP tour. To ensure we had enough time to climb the mountain and still get back to H before the bus left, we also got a train ticket from AC to H at 1.35pm. We were picked up from our place at 7.30am, then we tooled around C, picking up other people on the tour. The bus ride to Ollantaytambo (O) wasn't too bad, but we were suspiciously close to AC despite apparently having five hours of bus to go. Queue mayhem. Between O and AC, the road is rough and the driving is rougher. I didn't think it was stupid dangerous, but most other people seemed to. I'll admit it wasn't 100% safe. So for five hours we were thrown around the back of a van with no possibility of sleep or rest, before pulling in to Santa Teresa for an absolutely rubbish lunch. I had been warned that if food was included on a tour, it was going to be average. Eventually we made it to H and expelled ourselves from the bus worse for wear. The two and a half hour walk to AC along the train tracks was actually really pleasant. By the time we got to AC, Morgan, two Brazilians we had befriended and I had decided to get the train all the way back to C, because eff that bus ride again and we wanted to have more time up the mountain. So we went to the station. I can't remember how many times we were told different numbers of seat remaining on different trains as different prices and different times, but it was a lot. So we made a decision which wasn't ideal because there weren't many seats left (which is obviously our fault), but we were at least set. Then we went back to the Customer Service Representatives (CSRs) and despite no customers arriving, everything seemed to have changed. So we made a new decision and the same thing happened when returning to the CSRs. Finally we determined that we could get three tickets for one train and one ticket for another at a similar time, but all were only to O, so we needed to book a taxi back to C. Needless to say, we were all pretty over everything by this stage in the day. I was remaining a little upbeat because we would still all get to see Machu Picchu for the day tomorrow, it was just going to end up costing a little bit more (or so I thought). The Brazilians went back to the group meeting place to make sure the others wouldn't leave to the hostel (at a location which was apparently secret) without us while we bought our tickets. By the time we got to the square, there was no sight of anyone familiar, so we bought some beers and tried to relax. Eventually a little man walked in to the square calling “Morgan, Morgan”, rolling his r's hard. He took us up to the hostel. We'd negotiated a private three person room with an Irish girl who Morgan had met the week before, but by the time we got there, the Irish lass had negotiated us out of that deal. Morgan put her foot down in an American I'm-not-taking-your-bullshit way which I immediately resolved to do more often myself. We got our private room. I had the warmest shower I've had in the world in a month, in the southern hemisphere in six months and in South America ever. And I didn't even get electrocuted. At 8pm we went to meet the tour guide at the square so he could give us cash to buy our own tickets, even though we had paid him to do that. We were incredulous. We were whisked away to a poor dinner. We mentioned that we no longer needed our train tickets from AC to H on the following day because we were getting the train back. Despite previously having wads of cash, he suddenly had no money and would leave the money at the restaurant the following afternoon. We returned to the hostel to find that the lights switch in our room was broken in a sense. Sort of. Flicking on and off did nothing because it was midday Uluru bright the entire time. Thanks amazing curtains and brilliant window positioning. You made my day. The Wondrous DayWe awoke early and had a tiny bit to eat (mistake one). Then we walked to the gate to cross the river to climb up to Machu Picchu. I hadn't had much to drink (mistake two). Once we got across, I decided I felt good climbing and push on quite quickly (mistake three). I was one of the first at the gates and won the honour of waiting fifteen minutes for an American tour group to push their way up and proclaim loudly in to their iPhones that they were at the front of the line, whaddya know. Morgan wasn't far behind and also got to spend time having people push past her. A Chinese group pushed past everyone, even the guys on the gate and got in ten minutes before anyone else. Eventually we were in. It was very foggy. We walked up a bit and had a some trail mix nibbles (food technically isn't allowed in). I had a little bit of water. We worked out what path we wanted to take amongst the fog and took a few photos along the way. I started to feel faint and my vision wasn't doing too well. I asked for a little rest for a bit. I tried to push on. I couldn't see clearly and was starting to behave as one behaves when they have seventeen beers and just look at their feet to make sure they stay upright and moving. I called it and Morgan led me down to the entrance. I sat on a bench. Head between knees. A strange lady had some liquid in a vial. She put some in my water bottle and told me to drink. I drank. I was being led away by a man with a cardboard box I knew I could trust. The cardboard box took me to a room and lay me on a bed. Morgan was there. A needle was in my arm. Pills in my mouth. Liquids at my lips. I slept. Though various stages of the day, people were checking I was OK and asking if I felt better. My mouth was working in the same way as Big Jim's when he's had too much to drink. There were words, but they weren't human. After a while I started to regain sense of my surroundings. Morgan returned with the Brazilians, one of whom (Luciana) was a doctor. She assessed the situation and told me to drink more. I drank more. They left for one last look around and returned at around 3.40pm. I heard them talking before they entered the room, preparing to insist I catch the bus down. Not likely. We left the medical room. S/. 216 which Morgan covered for me. She was an angel the entire day. I convinced the others that I didn't need a bus and we returned to the valley on foot. I spent the descent being regaled of the wonders of the ancient ruins that I missed. Lessons?We saw the initial Canadian family as we re-entered AC, and we met them for pizza dinner before heading to the station. The train back was lush. Number one piece of advice for MP: if you aren't doing a cool trek (Lares, Salcantay, Inca), just get the bloody train. It's worth the money.
From O back to C we had a crazy taxi driver, but nobody gave a shit at that point. What a day! Oh and we never did go back and get our refund money. But hey, it was a lesson and I've now made two friends who live in Salvador who I will probably actually visit after Rio. My chin is so far up.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Chris JonesJust a guy going for a bit of a documented ride. Archives
May 2018
Categories |