Tag Archives: Ollantaytambo

The Rain in Peru Falls Mainly On You

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“So what does Cusco do—mining? Farming? Manufacturing?”

“Solo turistico,” Ronnie replied. We were within a five minute drive of our B&B (Bed & Bakery), and Mom was questioning our driver from Ollantaytambo.

In the morning, we’d been given a tour by Elvis, who met us at Apu Lodge at 8 a.m. He walked us around Ollantaytambo in the rain, telling us about how the Incas moved huge stones (by either having people pull the rocks that were on logs, by sending them down ramps, or by some other way), how you can tell from which town women are by their hats, and how messages were sent from Cusco to Ollantaytambo to Machu Picchu to the coast (on foot in a relay). He also told us how Ollantaytambo got its name: Ollantay is the name of an Incan king, and tambo means lodge. Ollantay hid there from the Spanish, and once the Spanish captured him (and eventually killed him in Cusco), the Incas were defeated.

After our tour, we checked out the ice cream place, which unfortunately had no place to sit. So we took our ice cream to Corazones Café (Heart Café), where Mom and I shared a piece of cake and a bowl of soup and Ethan and Dad split a grilled cheese sandwich while Ethan indulged in a brownie and Dad enjoyed a huge cookie. Yes, it does sound like we went a little bit overboard in the sugar department, but Dad’s excuse is that we climbed Wayna Picchu and walked around in the rain for four hours.

Ciao!

Bird Poop

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We made it up Wayna Picchu—and no one knows how.

We also made it down, and Mom thinks that’s more impressive.

Wayna Picchu is the picturesque mountain in all Machu Picchu pictures. It’s on basically every postcard in Aguas Calientes, and most in Peru. It is only about 240 meters higher than the starting point—and there are a lot of stairs. It wasn’t as “scary” as people had made it out to be. True, the steps were slippery and the ten-meter tunnel at the top damp, but even Mom didn’t slip. It was only when we were back on level ground in Machu Picchu that Mom and I tripped.

Once we were back in Machu Picchu, we had to hurry to catch our tour group before it left. We formed 25% of the group, which included three others from our B&B. The tour lasted two hours, and we visited all the highlights: botanical garden, guard house, Templo del Sol, and Templo del Condor. The Condor Temple was the most interesting, since the rocks were shaped like a condor, and we got to walk up through the “stomach” of the condor, making us bird poop.

We ate lunch (squished guacamole sandwiches) after the tour, and then we went back inside to look at the lodging for the nobles. Commoners were, apparently, not allowed at Machu Picchu. How can you tell if you’re a commoner or not? Nobles are born with no moles.

 

Eventually we rode the bus down the thirteen switchbacks to Aguas Calientes, where I mailed some postcards. At 6:30 p.m. we got on the train to Ollantaytambo, and that’s where we are now.

Ciao!

Escape the Eggs

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We’re situated in Aguas Calientes, which is a twenty-five minute drive from Machu Picchu. We rode a train for about two hours this morning, talking to Elena and her husband, who live in Spokane, WA. Elena is from Mexico.

Mostly we talked about our trip, where we’re going, how long it is, what we’re doing for school, and all that stuff.

Everyone was excited to see the start of the Inca Trail, which is four days long and really high and I’m glad we’re not doing it!

In Aguas Calientes, we couldn’t find the man with a sign with our names on it, so we just walked to our hotel after finding it on a map. It was raining, of course, which made it Aguas Frios instead of Aguas Calientes.

After Dad had a lie-about, we walked around the town. Mom and I went into a jewelry shop, and when we exited, Ethan and Dad had disappeared down the Via de Escape alley. Eventually they came back and told us what they’d found: a platform that could hold four people in case of an emergency.

“What would you have to worry about here?” I asked.

“Tsunamis,” Dad replied.

“Yeah, it said something about ‘huevos,’” Ethan added.

“Huevos?” Mom asked. “Do you know what that means?”

“Um, waves?”

“Eggs, Ethan. Eggs.”

Ciao!

Save the Guinea Pigs!

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Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.

How could they hurt the innocent little guinea pigs at a—I shudder to think of it—cuyeria????? (In case you don’t know, cuy is guinea pig in Spanish, so a cuyeria is where you eat guinea pigs.) I knew that guinea pigs were on the Peruvian menu, but I wasn’t expecting to see “CUYERIA” in big, bold letters painted on the side of a building in blood red.

This was on our way out of Cusco. We arrived in Cusco after a short and uneventful flight from Arequipa. From there, Ronnie took us in his Yaris to Apu Lodge. It was about five minutes into this drive that I saw the dreadful word.

 

We are safe (unlike guinea pigs) in this lodge from the cold and wet of Ollantaytambo. Ollantaytambo is a little village at about 8,000 feet above sea level that is, apparently, a popular American tourist destination, as we learned tonight at supper.

For supper, Dad ordered his usual agua con gas, and Mom, Ethan, and I chose agua sin gas. When our waters arrived, instead of three aguas sin gas and one agua con gas, there were three aguas con gas and one agua sin gas. Mom got lucky and selected the agua sin gas, and Ethan and I had to suffer through our 350 milliliters of nastiness.

Ciao!