Machu Picchu... meh.

I wanted to title this blog Machu Sucku but I don’t think that is fair as everyone else that visited Machu Picchu yesterday found it to be awesome and inspiring, so I guess there is just something wrong with me. When we reached the first lookout of the site, right around dawn and after 4 days of hiking, this fat middle aged American guy reached for his fat middle aged American wife and said, “Ah, doesn’t this just make it all worth it?” I looked out of over the pile of rocks and thought back on the last four days and immediately reached the conclusion that I wanted to reach over and punch that guy in the throat. Lucky for him I was too sore to get to him. Moving on…

Chris and I arrived to Machu Picchu stinky and tired yesterday morning around 6:15am. We’d been up since 4am and hiking along the Inca Trail. We got to the first lookout just in time to meet up with all of the rich people that paid big bucks to stay at the 5 star hotel right next to the site, and they traipsed up the hill freshly pressed, well rested, uninjured, and smelling lovely. We were slimy and smelly and hobbling (well, I was hobbling). And to be fair, Machu Picchu is a feat of engineering and very interesting to look at and blah blah blah, but seriously, you do not need to walk up and down the damn Peruvian Andes for four days to see the stupid thing. You get just as much out of it if you take the train and bus up to the site… at least according to me. Plus it’s a lot cheaper than the $421 I blew to see it.

Everyday, the government allows 500 people to enter the Inca Trail for the four day hike. Chris and I went with Chaska Tours and we had 3 other people in our group, all from Holland. One couple was 60 and 66, and the other guy was single and 30. We set out at a very slow and easy pace with our guide Ivan. Also for our group, we had seven porters and one cook. The porters are insane with athletic ability. These guys carry at a maximum 25 kilos on their backs (everything from fuel, to tents, to food) and run and/or walk briskly in rubber sandals and no socks up and down the mountains to your next lunch or camp site. Doing the Inca Trail is spoiled camping because you arrive to each site to have lunch waiting and tents set up by the super porters. The first day we had trout and fresh grilled veggies for lunch, and I wish I could say it got better from there, but after that, it was a steady decline in food value and quantity.

Day Two is the hard day. And yes, it’s flippin hard. In my journal I called it What Goes Up Must Come Down because we had to walk up and over a mountain with a 4200 meter summit (approx. 13,776 feet). For Chris, it was What Goes Down Must Come Up because he woke up on Day Two and promptly puked about 5 times into a donkey pasture. It’s always a joy to listen to someone barfing at six in the morning next to your tent. We’re not sure if it was the food or the water or some Peruvian death bug, but Chris was pukey on the hardest day. But with no energy, he made it up the stupid pass. Our guide wasn’t around much that day and in the evening he finally introduced us to our porters after keeping them at a distance from us, which I thought was weird.

Day Three was the crying day. We had to walk about 15km and go up and over another pass. My knees hurt and my ankles kept rolling and at one point, I tripped and fell and banged my knee and cut my shin. And I cried. But just a little bit and they were tears of frustration and hatred and not tears of pain and therefore I did not break Chris’ No Crying While Hiking rule, although he’ll say that I did. When I was on the ground with a hurt leg it dawned on me that I did not need to go trekking or camping ever again. I hate it and I will always hate it and that’s it. I brought this stupid Inca Trail trip on myself but no more, I’m done. If Chris wants to walk up a mountain in Ecuador or Colombia in the next two months, I will silently cheer him on from the hotel while watching cable.

So I was a bit grumpy and not that into the whole thing. The final night, the porters were brought out again and this time we were supposed to give them money. It was forced and awkward and I guess we didn’t tip enough because for our final morning (at 4AM) our last meal was one piece of stale bread with a small piece of dried up cheese in the center. Woo hoo. I looked at the other camper’s meals and they had delicious piles of pancakes and toast and eggs and one group even had cake. Cake! So Chaska Tours is getting a strongly worded letter in a few days, I hate it when people mess with my food.

Anyway, I have more MP rants, but right now I have to board a bus for a town in Peru called Mancora. Chris and I flew from Cusco to Lima this morning and our bus is leaving shortly. Happily, this bus company had wifi in their station so I can finally post pics from Cusco and Lake Titicaca. Machu Picchu is coming soon.

Chris and I have our birthdays to celebrate this Saturday and next Saturday and are looking forward to 29 and 31… well, not really, but whatever.