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| What can you say to a picture like this? (There’s a somewhat bigger version). |
Thursday, April 23, tenth day in Perú
Aguas Calientes, Machu Picchu, and Cusco
We got up at 4:30 so we could have an early start up the mountain to Machu Picchu one more time. My journal says, «Breakfast was good, with a cooked-to-order plate of eggs scrambled with bacon, and the usual buffet items. Back to the room, where we agreed that if we missed this second trip to Machu Picchu, we wouldn’t be upsest. But we did it, and it was worth it: got lots more good pictures.»
I think we might have been hoping to get up top to see the sunrise, but we didn’t. And there was enough mistiness and cloud that I’m not sure it would have been visible. But even so, the early-morning sunlight was much more conducive to interesting views and photography than the midday cloudiness of the preceding day. You’ll see that today’s pictures have much more snap than the previous day’s.
Mist, cloud, and fog. I was hoping that the third picture would be a lot more dramatic, with its beam of light coming through the window.
Swirling cloud, version i (16 seconds).
For the first while that we were up on the mountain, the clouds below us swirled up around the peaks and through the passes. The two videos here make an attempt, at any rate, to give an idea of what it felt like.
Around nine, we took the bus back down the mountain, and went back to the room, but not before walking along the river to take lots of shots of the rapids.
After relaxing in the room for most of the morning, we went looking for lunch. The dining room seemed to be completely unoccupied, even though we were certainly led to believe that lunch would be available there. My journal says, «We finally (after waiting around pointlessly for an hour) had lunch at 1:00, in an otherwise completely empty dining room. Same waiter as last night, same table. We saw quinoa chowder on the menu, for a starter, and we jumped at the opportunity to try it, because Rubén had spoken of it as a specialty. Our waiter also recommended baked trout, and we thought that taking a recommendation was a good idea. Both dishes were just terrific, especially the soup. All sorts of vegetables, in some sort of stock, with lots of quinoa at the bottom. I think we’ll try looking up a recipe.»
Swirling cloud, version ii (21 seconds).
Short clip (8 seconds) of the roiling waters of the Vilcanota.
My journal continues: «Some time before lunch the front desk told us that our travel people had called, and wanted to get in touch with Mark. It turned out that the Casa Andina Private Collection Cusco did not have room for us and wanted to put us up in a room as good or better at the Marriott. The only wrinkle is the fact that the Casa Andina has been holding our bags, and we hope that the transfer will turn out to have been accomplished smoothly.
«Mark was worried that the Marriott would be very far from the Casa Andina, and thus the Museo del Pisco (and also the Cicciolina), but a quick turn at Google Maps showed us that in fact we had walked by the Marriott on the way from Casa Andina to the Museo.
«While we were waiting for our train [in the Aguas Calientes station], Mark heard his name called from the other end of the waiting room. It was Soyla, the general representative of the Metropolitan Travel agency, to tell him yet again of the change in our hotel plans. And also, we guessed, to verify that we had made it to the station in time for our train.
«The train ride was fine. We had seats on the cliff side of the train as opposed to the river-side seats we had had from Ollantaytambo down. But we had good views nonetheless, and it was more obvious to me now than before how steep a grade the train was moving through.
«At the Ollantytambo station, we were met, as expected, by Alexandra and Romulo, and after making a visit to a restroom, we started on the 1½-hour drive to Cusco. This drive is a doozy: bad roads, potholes, many monstrous speed bumps, and toward the end, within Cusco, descents down narrow stone-paved streets whose precipitous steepness would put San Francisco to shame.
«We went right over to the Museo del Pisco, where Mark had a fruit drink called Piconaso while I had a “Francis Drake”, which amounted to a sweet Gibson: Pisco, a half-jigger of sweet vermouth, and somewhat less dry vermouth, plus three proper cocktail onions. I found it good, but sweeter than I’d have liked.
«From there, we went back to Cicciolina, and instead of having appetizers, we got regular main courses. I had alpaca, and it was distressingly tough. M had barbecued duck, and that looked to be tough, too. Perhaps we were seeing a justification of the principle that you shouldn’t return too soon to an excellent restaurant.
«No dessert, M turned in right away, but I was so filthy that I took a nice shower for myself. And then the oblivion of sound sleep, even if it was interrupted a few hours later by my usual high-altitude sleeplessness.» At least we would both be ready for the next day’s activities.