Sunday 11 May 2014

Tasks, Tickets, Walks, Waterfalls : Aguas Calientes : Wed 7th May

Up at 9am. Breakfast. Nothing exciting. Out to the streets of Aguas Calientes, the Ewok village of the Sacred Valley, and we buy out tickets. Number One - make sure you are very clear on what day you want your entrance ticket to Machu Picchu for, as our dealings with the very unhelpful chap in the ticket office went very wrong. We ask for tickets for tomorrow, he gives us tickets for today and then refuses to acknowledge us when we ask him to change them to the next day. I mean he literally refused to acknowledge our existence. Eventually a supervisor chap appeared and I tactfully asked why we couldn't have tickets for the following day. He changed them, our man was still counting a big wad of cash. Not a great impression. Be careful.









Anyway, all sorted there. Then bought two tickets for the bus. Then went for coffee (twice the price of Cusco) and cake, where we mapped out the final weeks of our holiday. I think that, no matter what, at this point our remaining time would feel short, but being 3500km from our airport feels even scarier. We realised that once we left Aguas Calientes that we are in a bit of a rush to cover a lot of ground, and hanging around in nice cities is no longer an option. But you'll see that as we go on.

We also decide that, when all is said and done, taking the train back to Ollantaytambo is probably a good move. To take the cheap route back we need to leave the ruins at 10.30am to be back in town to walk 11km back to the hydroelectric plant to catch a colectivo back to Ollantay which takes another 5 hours. Then we would have to stay there a night anyway and leave for Cusco early the following morning. We need to be in La Paz in Bolivia on Tuesday. That's not far away, time wise. And we don't want to rush the ruins, they only open at 6am.

Of course, we could have taken the train to the hydro plant, but that's US$25, and when you combine that with the cost of the colectivo, its not a kick in the arse off GBP10 to save yourself six hours. So we decide to take any train back to Ollantay that leaves after 4pm.

The trouble, as we knew might be the case, is that all the trains are sold out on Thursday. This turns out to be a bit of a blessing in disguise. The trains on Thursday were all US$70 minimum. The first train on Friday, 05.35 to Ollantaytambo, is a mere US$52, barely pennies more than the 'cheap' journey. So we're on it. That's the next few days of our lives sorted.

The chap in the coffeeshop recommended walking back out along the train tracks towards the hydro plant where we would find waterfalls worth checking out. Seemed like a good way to spend a day. The town of Aguas Calientes can be thoroughly explored in an hour or two, and as friendly as it is (and it has some nice touches that make it not just an artificial resort for tourists, like the local schools and kids playing football in the street amongst the legs of the foreigners, its all harmless and the Peruanos are as pleasant to deal with here as anywhere else) there are a shortage of real activities to do here unless you want to spend a couple of days up at the site, which you really ought to do if you have the stamina, its really only GBP30 or so to get in.

So we walk the 4km out to the waterfalls, I go the further 20 minutes up (we encounter a wooden bridge that Sarah chooses not to cross, perhaps understandably enough) and there are two waterfalls that I would be loathe to say were worth the walk. There were some curious stone statues around, but then like everything in Peru these were alone, solitary, unmarked, so I can't really give much information on what exactly what going on there. Walked back down, met Sarah, walked back to town. Got bitten by a bug or two. Damn them.

















That's Aguas Calientes just as you round the final corner from the Hydroelectric Plant.


Back in town, have a nice beer, wander around, look at some very nice Peruvian flutes and pan pipes at some very nice prices, decline to buy an awful lot of pruck that may or may not have been made in Peru or China, buy pruck off a nice lady who does a lot of embroidery, end up in a pizzeria (Peru is obsessed with pizza. No one tells you this. It's all about Brazil and Argentina where the pizzas are terrible. In Peru you could have a pizza you might actually recognise, with toppings and stuff!) where we have fake Pisco Sours ("Happy Hour! 2x1! Except that there's no alcohol in your drinks and you have service automatically included on your bill, a first in this normally reasonable country, but then I'd imagine all the Americans wouldn't tip anyway, as they never do when they're outside of the States), back to the hostel, wolf down our dinner (spaghetti, rice, sauce with chicken, salad, its free!) and call it a night. Tomorrow, Thursday, Machu Picchu day. Up at 5am, little packed breakfast awaiting us (Inka Kola, bap, biscuits, chocolate bar, its free!), we need our sleep. Or some sleep. Or something. We're in the middle of the town. It's not a quiet as you think.

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