Machu Pichu - Day 8

Saturday morning I woke to just one band-aid on Lily's gapping wound.  Something about the humidity and her unwashed little face wouldn't let the band-aids stay on long.  So I banaged her up again adding a layer of white medical tape (That was all peeling off by the end of  lunch.)  We  lost Grandma on our way back to the train but thankfully located her before our train departed.  We retraced our path back up the steep road grateful that the sun was shining brightly in a blue sky.  Our views would be spectacular.  Marilyn took Mom and the less arduous lower circuit trail since she had done the upper circuit on her own yesterday.  We were grateful that mom would have one on one attention as there are thousands of steps and too many places where she might slip, stumble, or fall.  Oswaldo took the rest of us on the extensive upper circuit.  Each time we passed a guide he had to explain why we had a group of 9 including him when the limit was 8.  They were never appeased but we just continued on our way.  While there were other tourists it was not crowded in any sense.  I was able to get pictures of most scenes without strangers in the view.  Our tour lasted about 3 hours and covered most all of the currently accessible paths. 

Natali is being sneazed on right here.

From one of the typical photo spots with a commanding view of the plaza Andrew noticed some movement on small terrace far below on the west side.  They were too big to be the viscachas we expected to see.  Through his binoculars we were thrilled to identify a family of coati.  Andrew took great pleasure in pointing them out to several other tourists.  Everyone has seen iconic pictures of Machu Picchu which makes descriptions seem wholly inadequate.  The ruins would be memorable anywhere, but at the top of a nearly vertical mountain with the roaring Urubamba snaking around the narrow peninsula a thousand feet below the scene is simultaneously sublimely beautiful and awe inspiring.  Add in the jagged promontory of Huayna Picchu or Young Mountain towering just to the north and then ring the view 360 degrees with peaks ranging from 10-18,000 feet a few of which are snow-covered looking down on tropical forests and well, you have the kind of place millions of people from the entire globe have spent great sums of money and precious time to see for themselves.  A guide is necessary to appreciate the finer points and details but it is easy to get distracted just looking and taking pictures.  The girls were ecstatic when the lawn mowing llamas approached and we laughed when they spit in their direction.  Unfortunately COVID had closed the trails to both Huayna Picchu and Machu Picchu Mountain so we could only admire them from below.  We eventually caught up with mom and shared the last few sights together before catching the bus again.  

We were the only guests at a very nice hotel restaurant built literally against the rock of the mountain.  I was pleasantly surprised by the quinoa soup and the lomo saltado looked amazing right up until I put it in my mouth.  I’ve never tried to eat tougher meat.  I eventually gave up and had to spit a couple of bites out after chewing for a minute.  I could not cut the pieces with the knife and after my past experiences I didn’t want to try to swallow them whole—I’m too good a choking.  Desert was a small plate of fresh fruit—mostly pineapple and papaya.  I don’t really like papaya but I ate mine so that there was at least one plate left on the table that didn’t just look like a plate full of papaya in the end. 

A couple of hours of free time in Aguas Calientes is sufficient to walk most of the village that exists to serve the tourists.  There’s a small market area where we let each of the kids pick a souvenir and then I half-heartedly negotiated before overpaying.  T-shirts, soccer jerseys, and llama paraphernalia were the popular choices.  We tried Inca Cola which we decided tasted too much like bubble gum.  It slapped weird.  That phrase was a joke for the trip. The cool phrase is "hits different" but I kept saing slaps weird just to bug the teens.  It was finally decided that hits different is for something good and slaps weird is for something unique but not great.  Andrew took the Inka Cola bottle and used it to pet a mangy stray dog that was following us around.

We left mom to explore the market while we walked quickly over to the main square for a picture with the Manco Inca statue.  The clinic wasn’t open on Saturday so any further attention for Bob would have to wait until Cusco.  We gathered our luggage and returned to the station for our departure.  The long train ride back found kids back on devices, reading, or playing.  Emily used this time to play with all the new llamas - she even used the llama bandanas as blakets.At one point I looked over and realized that mom was crying.  Her heart was rent by the poverty we were passing and she was regretting not having shared her testimony directly with Francisco.  I got up and found the conductor and told him how we had met Francisco and wanted to contact him via social media.  Would he tell us Francisco’s last name?  Turns out the other conductor, Jared, was a returned missionary and Francisco lives in his ward so he knew he was being taught.  He gave me his name and phone number so I have been able to contact Francisco via Whatsapp after returning home.  The spirit will lead us when we allow it to.  The train gains elevation steadily but my body had adjusted well and I feel good even at 11,000.  Back in Cusco the kids wanted pizza again so I return for takeout. I help eat the pizza this time and it is quite good.  The Hawaiian pizza has a sweet glaze that makes it taste almost like a dessert pizza.  

Our guide went out of his way to contact a medical friend to get his hands on some strei-strips for Lily's chin.  It was a long day and our room was so cold.  I bundled Lily up in her bed to get her warmed up.  She really needed to get clean but the thought of getting wet was just too cold of a thought so I let her stay warm and dirty.  Natali texted us from her room concerned about Grandma’s labored breathing.  My mom was a trooper and hung in there every step of the way though I know the effort exerted a toll on her body.

Short Inca Trail- Day 7

With some prodding we walked out the front gate at about 5:50am.  It didn’t take long on the windy up and down streets for Lisa to get car-sick on top of her pounding headache.  I couldn't watch but the kids were busy counting stray dogs; there were so many the counting didn't last long.  The dogs did prompt Mack to say," I'd rather have raccoons eating out of my trash than dogs." I tried to fill out another round of paperwork with passport numbers etc in the van while Lisa was pretty much incapacitated.  She was unsteady but thrilled to get out of vehicle at the Poroy train station after perhaps 30 minutes.  Oswaldo stopped enroute to buy us some water bottles to use for our hike to Mach Picchu.  Oswaldo was accompanied by a 2^nd guide, Marilyn.  As we unloaded Oswaldo asked if we had brought our face shields—oops, we thought those were only necessary on the planes.  He returned after several minutes with 9 face shields.  He thought they would serve food on the train, but service was suspended due to COVID so we grabbed some crackers from a vendor on the corner.  The train departed on time at 6:40 kicking off the next phase of our adventure.  The train rocked slowly but not quite gently side to side the entire way.  Within minutes the rising sun illuminated our surroundings and we passed gradually through towns into more rural agricultural lands.  By most appearances the Peruvian Andes are farmed by hand and animal pulled plow.  Eventually we reached a series of switch backs where the caboose and engine took turns leading and following as we descended into the Sacred Valley of the Vilcanota or Urubamba River.  It became apparent why the train departs from Ollantaytambo during the rainy season—the steep pass is subject to rock slides that would easily strand the train.  We passed the famous Skylodge Adventure Suites—transparent walled hotel rooms built hanging on the cliff face that must be reached by rock climbing. 

A friendly conductor named Francsico struck up a long conversation with us in English he had learned while living in Arizona.  He called himself a “dry Mormon” and said getting married was his only obstacle to being baptized.  He had been a supervisor but those roles had been eliminated in the tourist drought caused by COVID.  He had opened a restaurant in the meantime to supplement his income.  As we proceeded down the valley we saw the prominent snow-capped peak of Mount Veronica or Wayna Willka that towered over the valley at 19,334 feet.  The trains are designed with glass windows that provide views of the steep walled valley.  Unfortunately the impressive ruins at Ollantaytambo are hardly visible from the train despite their proximity.  At kilometer 104 the train stopped and we bid farewell to grandma and hopped off daypacks and sack lunches in hand.  We were feeling a bit alone as there was clearly no turning back now.  We paused for a photo in front of the sign marking the stop and then crossed a footbridge over the Urubamba.  A bit further along we arrived to the check point where we had our papers checked and had to don our masks and shields yet again.  One final pit stop and we were leaving civilization behind.  A light rain fell portending the water that would follow us for the day.  The ruins at Cachabamba are small but can be intimately explored in a few minutes to provide a taste of what lies ahead and above us.  Once out of site of Cochabamba we were able to remove our face coverings until Winay Wayna.  Oswaldo led the way with our crew spread out and Marilyn keeping an eye out for stragglers at the rear.  

Back to the sack lunches which normally wouldn’t warrant notice.  Since we missed breakfast we snacked a bit from them on the train.  Mack even peeled the first orange of his life - a big day indeed.  Each lunch was in a paper grocery bag with handles and had three heavy clam shell paper cartons inside, a combination that couldn’t be squished into a backpack without spilling some contents.  We already had daypacks and water, but I was destined to carry four of these bags for most of the next 7 miles.  I think ludicrous is a fair assessment.  I began to joke that I was delivering the groceries to Machu Picchu via the Inka Trail.  I should have been working for Door Dash or Grub Hub.  Not surprisingly, Kate wasn’t feeling well and was sure she wouldn’t make it.  She fell to the rear of the pack and I alternated between encouraging her and leaving her behind hoping she would pick up the pace without an ear to complain to.  We sighted a number of new bird species but we weren’t packing the book and Oswaldo wasn’t a wildlife guide so several went unidentified.  He did point out numerous gorgeous orchid species on the trail side and said that some of the bromeliads were favorites of the Andean Spectacled Bears that we hoped to see.  As we climbed steadily across and up the mountain side there were periodic shaded rest areas.  The weather was pleasant with enough moisture and shade to feel pleasant after our time in the Amazon. 

As we rounded a bend to our left our next destination came into view, the spectacular ruins of Winay Wayna.  If I didn’t know what was in store for us at Machu Picchu, I would have been satisfied with hiking to see Winay Wayna.  We could see in front of us the three sets of ruins at different altitudes, but nearly in a vertical line.  Now we had an immediate goal and knew just how much higher we had to climb, and more importantly, for Kate, just how far she had to go before she would find a restroom.  Before the final climb to Winay Wayna we paused at a bridge below a sparkling water fall for a family photo.  Entrance to Winay Wayna comes via a cleft in the stone mountainside.  The path turns and rises through the natural break and then the hillside ruins are at your feet, in front of, and above you.  The main structures had windows that overlooked the valley beneath or the waterfall on the opposite side.  A fountain was hewn for water to course from the top of the site down through the dwellings providing fresh water and refreshing background noise.  Whichever Inca was in charge of site selection knew what he was doing.  The guard on site made sure we put our masks back on as we walked the ruins and told us he had seen a bear earlier that morning!  After hiking up through the ruins and across the terraces we paused at some benches to eat our lunches and use the restrooms.  The restrooms consisted of a pee hole in the ground which was a memorable shock to the girls.  We had chicken and a quinoa veggie mix that was actually tasty in addition to a sandwich, fruit and muffin.   Even after Andrew fed loads of leftovers to the luckiest stray dog on the Inca trail we still had several grocery bags to carry the remainder of the trek. 

Can you see our trail across the mountains?  Looking back on where we had come from was such an incredible part of the journey.

The rain began in earnest and within an hour had changed from refreshing to a bit chilly as we moved beyond damp.  Yes, I could have brought my poncho, but that would have made too much sense.  Kate kept up with the boys as they moved ahead and it was much more enjoyable to not be coaxing and coercing a resistant child.  About this point Lily said that she was having so much fun she would do it again tomorrow!  I then realized no one was complaining, and all seemed to be enjoying it. We had worried about how they would handle this day of hiking and it was awesome to have it be such a success.  At one point Andrew picked up his pace and disappeared in the distance.  Just when I was beginning to wonder or worry about him we caught up to him at a stunning rock overlook.  He said he timed it and he had been 9 minutes ahead of us.  The next stretch was pretty flat until we reached the final ascent to Intipunku or the Sun Gate.  The skies were overcast and my anxiety increased as I imagined reaching the pass and not getting the payoff view of Machu Picchu.  I wanted to be at Lisa’s side to see her expression and reaction but she stayed ahead of me.  The last climb is steep, but not long, but still left me needing to catch my breath at the top.  And that was before I looked down.  There were clouds below us, but they didn’t obscure the Inca treasure of Machu Picchu.  Speechless and breathless.  We did it!  Bob walked every step and the rest of the way would be downhill.  Oswaldo was a great guide but not the best photographer.  The family photos he took won’t be framed but fall in the evidence of an amazing experience category. It was a gift that the clouds allowed us our view that day - if we had arrived earlier or later we may have missed it entirely. 

I lingered to take more pictures from different angles as the rest of the crew began the descent in a light drizzle.  I thought back to when Brad and I had hiked up to Intipunku from Machu Picchu in the rain and specifically how slick some of the 500-year-old stone steps had been.  Within 100 yards from the viewpoint there was a scream from below.  We rushed forward to find that Lily had slipped on the wet rock trail (she later said she had been jumping and didn’t slip, but I’m not too sure about that).  Andrew reached her first and exclaimed that she had lost teeth.  My heart was in my stomach as I steeled myself to reach her side.  Lisa cupped her head in her hands and I could see more blood than I wanted to dripping into and through her fingers.  Bob wailed and opened her mouth—I’ve never been so happy to see all those scraggle teeth.  It turns out she had been eating Mentos and the white candy pieces in her mouth had been mistaken for white teeth.  Beneath her chin was a nasty inch wide gash, deep enough to see white flesh.  If were home, I knew she would be getting stitches, or at least some super glue to close it.  But what would we have here?  And we were still a long way from help. 

Gratefully, I'd had the inspiration to bring band-aids in my day kit.  It took several but I had enough band-aids to completely cover Bob’s chin.  We had a mile and a quarter of downhill slippery steps to reach Machu Picchu and then the bus ride down to Aguas Calientes before there would be hopes of more significant medical attention.  With the rain and slick rock conditions I didn’t dare carry her down so we held hands and walked all the way together.  I tried to comfort her as best I could and we both slipped at points and were glad we were able to help keep each other upright.  Oswaldo walked quickly ahead to see what may be available at Machu Picchu.  Bob cried most of the way but was definitely calmer by the time we encountered Oswaldo on his way back up a couple of hundred yards from the bus station.  She was definitely being a trooper. 

Oswaldo was carrying a small plastic sack that bulged with something much larger than a band-aid.  He explained that it was an egg and that they used the egg membranes traditionally to seal and close wounds.  That sounded interesting, but not the thing to do on the side of the trail at this point.  At the outdoor restaurant we laid Bob back on a couple of the chairs and waited for Lisa before making the next decision.  I was walking slow ans careful with Emily; we were also slipping and saved each other from falls more than once. Marilyn luckily stayed in the back with Kate so I could keep moving forward to catch up to Lily.  When Lisa joined us Oswaldo explained the theory of how as the membrane dries it would pull the skin from each side of the wound and hold them together while it healed.  We decided to give it a go.  Bob was a good sport and Oswaldo seemed to know what he was doing.  About 30 minutes later we were on a packed bus heading down the switchbacks of the Hiram Bingham Highway.  The last hour had been chaotic enough that I didn’t dwell on my frustrations that we weren’t able to spend time at Machu Picchu that afternoon without buying another $400+ of tickets.  We had hoped that Mom would be waiting for us at the bus, but Oswaldo had thoughtfully called the hotel and confirmed that she had arrived safely after her afternoon alone at Machu Picchu.

Thi is what it looked like when I took off the egg membrane.  

We were relieved to meet my mom just in front of the hotel headed out to find something to eat.  I found a nearby pharmacy and bought an anti-septic and some first aid tape but they didn’t appear to have butterfly bandages, or if they did, they didn’t understand my Spanglish well enough.  Back at the hotel the membrane had filled with blood as the wound hadn’t closed.  Oswaldo helped us find dinner to go from an expensive by Peruvian standards restaurant, but the food satisfied everyone.  I returned to the pharmacy with a picture of a butterfly bandage on my phone which left me more confident that they didn’t have any.  The local clinic had closed before we made it down the hill.  Lisa removed the membrane and cleaned the cut and reapplied band-aids and tape to try to seal the gash.  We did our best to hang our wet clothes to dry and eventually figured out that the standalone appliances were dehumidifiers, not air conditioners.  The little reservoir filled up twice during our stay and had to be emptied to get the dehumidifier to turn back on but the effort was worth it because our clothes were dry in the morning (Sadly, the kids humidifier hadn't worked so well and they still had a bunch of damp clothes).  Sleep came quickly to the physically and mentally exhausted. Natali's watch said she went 124 flights of stairs and 8.8 miles- the accuracy is debatable but one way or another the kids were amazing that day!

Farewell Amazon - Day 6

At 6:00 Thursday morning our guides gave one last valiant effort to help us find a Giant River Otter but we had to settle for enjoying the moment and a few more monkey sightings.  I could sit and watch squirrel monkeys play for hours. OUr last 30 minutes turned hectic as we packed up Lily's sundried clothes, and posed for group pictures in front of the lodge. Jessica, one of the managers, gifted Lisa and Natali some colorful native woven purses.  Mom left her battery powered fan for Siomi.  As we prepared to depart, Hazel clearly wasn’t feeling well and threw up several times.  I bet she puked more than 5 times before we left, poor girl.  We hit the river midmorning for Iquitos and stopped where the Tahuayo merged with the Amazon.  We once again saw Pink River Dolphins but they teased me and completely avoided my camera.  The second boat stopped at a village to take Hazel to see a doctor.  Laurie told us later it was worth it just to see the chicken roosting on the pharmacy shelf.  She got medicine to help with hydration.  The Amazon was choppy and we had a good rain shower on the way back downstream.   I felt well shaken after an hour. Unfortunately, the suitcase had no rain cover and nearly all of us discovered wet gear when we unpacked at the hotel that night - I worried about how all my kids would stay warm with wet clothes.  The extreme weather difference was hard to prepare for. 

  We arrived safely in Iquitos in time to enjoy an ice cream treat before being transferred to the airport.  I gave the Parkinson kids each $2 for their spotting efforts on the bus ride.  A few minutes later I realized Lily was crying because she hadn’t gotten anything—I’ll true up with them later.  Andrew and Lily just had to pet the cats at the office—hope they didn’t catch anything!  What a magical experience! 

We thought we had plenty of time, but we waited for probably an hour for the other boat to arrive after their clinic stop and then the airport was chaos.  Trying to find the right line, working through 3 different reservations for my family, none of which could be checked in on-line, and 1 of which won’t pull up on the kiosk.  Mom checks a bag, and we probably ought to, but I can’t stomach paying to check 8 bags, when they can be carried on for free.  Keeping track of 8 or 9 passports and boarding passes through all the checkpoints is an accomplishment in itself.  Later in the trip, I wrote everyone’s names on a sticker on the back of the passport so I could tell whose was whose without opening each of them.  It is hard to manage a large group in the shape-shifting South American lines.  We made it, phew!  

From Iquitos we flew back over the Andes to Lima. In Lima you have to exit the airport altogether to get to your connecting flight.  That of course necessitates more COVID protocols and sanitizer spray.  I followed the route we had taken through the airport our first time which added a few minutes and then I sent them ahead while I bought empanadas for a dinner snack on the plane.  By the time we got through security to the gate after convincing them I didn’t really need to show them boarding passes from the last flight and filled out yet another health affidavit we were about the last ones to board.  Harper was panicking on the plane and I was able to calm her by sharing animal pictures on my camera from the Amazon. The kids and I were amused by how many people would watch videos on the plane without headphones and with the volume quite loud.  In the Cusco airport we waited for mom’s luggage and the kids to take a potty break before bidding farewell to the Parkinsons and wishing them well on their forthcoming death march.    

I walked out the door and was relieved to hear someone call my name from across the street.  I wish we had been able to land in or depart from Cusco in daylight but it wasn’t to be.  Our luggage filled a car and we climbed into a van.  Oswaldo, our guide, introduced himself and tried generally unsuccessfully to orient us to the city on the drive to the hotel because his microphone hardly worked.  When we reached the colonial era part of the city the streets narrowed dramatically and were made of the Peruvian version of cobblestone.  Our driver had to ask another truck to move at a small square in front of the Templo del San Blas.  With the additional space we were able to make about a 5 point 90 degree left hand turn down the one way lane.  The narrowness of the way required precision with only a few inches to spare from scraping the building walls.  Half a block down we were delivered to the Amaru Inca Hotel.  For subsequent pick ups we met on the wide street a block closer to the Plaza de Armas.  I’m sure the building has its own fascinating history that dates back several hundred years.  Our rooms opened onto a garden courtyard with a nice view of the city’s red-tiled roofs in one direction.  We were only 2.5 blocks from the Plaza de Armas.  The rooms thankfully had thick blankets to protect against the mountain chill as I’m not sure I ever felt heat from the pipes that were supposedly on from 7:00 PM to 7:00 AM.  Our bathroom had a mix of exposed stone and plaster and a vaulted 15’ ceiling that must have a story behind it. 

Oswaldo didn’t want us to go hungry, or perhaps miss a chance for a commission and directed me to a nearby pizza joint for a late dinner as it was 8:30 and the city was under a 9:00 curfew.  I had visions of the disgusting pizza Brad and I had ordered in Aguas Calientes in 2013 but relented since it was close and I wasn’t really hungry anyway.  Walking the block up hill reminded me that we were now at 11,152 feet and I struggled to keep up with Oswaldo.  The restauranteur spoke great English and could not have been more gracious as I ordered pizza, salad, and some chicken and potatoes just in case.  I bid Oswaldo farewell and waited for the food before delivering it to our hungry brood.  To my surprise the pizza earned rave reviews but I was more than contented with the other food.  A long day of travel came to an end with full bellies snuggled deep into our beds knowing that a 5:40 AM departure awaited us in the morning.  I had a mild altitude caused headache and found myself awake in the night forcing myself to take deep breaths through my nose to fill my lungs.  

Zipline - Day 5

Our groups split with one half (Parkies plus Kate, Natali, and Nani) enjoying the zipline canopy experience...

 ...while my group (Eastons plus Brett and Bode) canoed to another lake in search of large black caiman and hoatzin.  The water lettuce was so thick that some routes proved impassable.  I told Wellister I’d never seen him sweat so much. We heard a horned screamer start at our presence and later saw the enormous bird fly overhead.  It took persistence to find a way from the flooded forest into the lake through the thickly vegetated perimeter.  We struck out on the black caiman but could see the paths that marked their passage through the long grass and watched a flock of hoatzin with awe.  The hoatzin truly look pre-historic with claws on their wings and spiky head feathers.  Emily spotted a motionless chick hiding in a tree after the adults scattered at our arrival. Our guide eventually broke his oar trying to muscle through it.  They cut Brett and I branches that we feebly used to assist in paddling. It was scorching out in the sun. 

Over the lunch break Laurie and her kids learned how to wash clothes by hand. (She paid them to let them do their laundry side by side - so Laurie). I had overheaded so much during our canoe trip I used my lunch break to cool down.  I layed on my bed with wet rags on my face and neck.  I was ready for some rain.  In the afternoon the other group learned how to weave crafts from village locals while we did the zipline.  

Natali loved the weaving becuase she was able to speak in Spanish with one of the women and teach her some English.

In route to the zipline we stopped at tree known to host a family of night or owl monkeys.  They seemed to be waiting our arrival and peered down at us with their oversized eyes from the shadow of the hollow.  The first zipline group was eatten alive by ants and mosquitos and endured the intense heat of the day.  Our group lucked out with a bit of rain to cool things down right before our zipline trip started, although the bugs were still relentless.

The zipline was a great break for the kids and provided a new perspective on the forest after we climbed 100 feet up a ladder to the first platform.  Lisa and Bob were hoisted up but the rest of us, including Emily took the slow route.  It wasn’t all that slow as we raced each other against the clock.  Brett won in just about 50 seconds and I was just a few seconds behind.  The breeze felt great and the view was unmatched.  Bob rode with Claudio on the first line and then did the second on her own.  There was a bit of a miscommunication and she ended up holding all of her weight with her arms so she decided to ride with Claudio on the rest of them.  Emily went all on her own!  After the second line I was standing on the platform and holding one of the supporting wires when Brett looked at me and asked if my clip was attached—it wasn’t!  The guides had gotten mixed up on the transfer and I hadn’t noticed!  To reach the last platform we had to walk across a literal canoe bridge in the sky.  After our final dinner we did one last night excursion by boat where the guides told us traditional native stories after we spotted a Great Potoo (nocturnal owl-like bird).  We enjoyed a good view of an Amazon Tree Boa as well.