Machu Picchu

After their decision to nit off the second day of extreme moto, Gaz and Colin had arranged to take an early bus to meet us at Santa Teresa; this meant them waking up at about 5am. I was awoken by Arthur turning my light on at about 6am. There was no aguas calientes in the hostel so we skipped the shower and set off at about 7. Now we could get down to some serious riding!

The route, again, was pretty simple: go straight. It took about twenty or so minutes to get comfortable on the bikes again but we were soon hacking it through the rough, off-road terrain. Gaz had kindly lent me his spectacles so I was able to see with precise clarity; although Gaz suffers from astigmatism and wearing the glasses made me feel slightly nauseous; I decided the increased vision outweighed the nausea, in addition, whenever I removed them it felt like I was even more blind than before.

We asked some local earlybirds if we were heading the right way to Santa Teresa and in typical Latin American style the directed us with flailing arms which seemed to guide us to outer space, to be fair when we pointed for them, they would either nod or shake their head. The road led us along a river and up a completely rocky and unmade road which led nowhere. Luckily, an old man and his boy were out early carrying logs or something and the old man angrily flailed his arms directing us in the other direction; we U-turned and found a fork in the road allowing us to ascend.

The road curled round and round the mountains carrying us higher and higher and the dawn views were magnificent; as the sun veered it's head, the mountains turned from a cool blue ice into a glowing solid gold. I had spent most of the day before standing on my foot pegs which, due to the slow pace, meant that I could manoeuvre more freely and could pretend I was a professional motocross star in a computer game! Furthermore, it prevented me from getting saddle-sore. However, due to the increase of pace this became impossible.

Again we took turns in taking the lead, I hated being behind; it felt unsafe and also I could see fuck all due to the dust people in front would create. The only way to avoid the dust would be to slow down meaning you ended up quite a way behind and feeling like a loser in the computer game. On the other hand when you were in the lead, you could really power and break way ahead from the pack.

Nefs and I used to go riding when we were back in the UK and he, being the far more experienced rider, would always egg me on encouraging me to go faster "you ride like a girl" he used to say. Now bearing in mind I was a novice riding a Ducati or effectively a rocket on two wheels after just a month of passing my test, at first I would shit myself trying to keep up. And me being the competitive swine that I am, found this very difficult to deal with. So, to hear Nefs advise me that "We should really go so fast" was like music to my ears! I remember cracking up when I heard this. "I can't believe you're telling me to slow down for once!" HAHA!

As we snaked up the mountain we passed through numerous waterfalls flowing over the road; one in particular had created a pool about half a meter deep. At this point, Arthur decided to find out if his bike was waterproof. He seemed to drop in slow motion. I was in front and had already passed through the pool and there was no way I was getting wet. I shouted at Jon to get off the back of Nefs' bike and rescue him- he hesitated but I was later told that Nefs also gave his encouragement and so Jon went to his rescue! Nefs and I both cracked up at this sight. The bike wouldn't even start after her swim but eventually came to life- those Japanese sure make reliable bikes. On we went and soon arrived in Santa Teresa. It took us a little over an hour in total.

As soon as we arrived, we bumped into Colin and Gaz who were negotiating a bus ride to Aguas Calientes. We parked and ate a simple breakfast of bread, marmalade, Mate de Coca and our new invention of Coffee de Coca. Jon and Arthur bought some socks to replace their drenched ones and off we went again. We could ride only so far until we were stopped at a hydroelectric plant. At the plant lay a guarded checkpoint, the guard took a little financial persuasion before eventually letting us store our bikes for the day and the rest had to be undertaken on foot. Colin and Gaz were waiting to meet us on a nearby bridge.

The journey after, consisted of following a train track all the way to Aguas Calientes. Colin was limping from the hole in his leg but did well to keep up. Along the way we came to a bridge crossing a white water river, it was completely rusty and made funny noises as we walked across. Someone should really renovate that bridge. The walk wasn't particularly pleasant to be honest, there was no proper path next to the track which meant for most part we had to walk on the rock covered tracks which was most awkward and painful on the old ankles. As we draw close I noticed a redundant train stationed next to some huts on an old unused track, this area smelt absolutely disgusting. As I passed the train and looked back to see a massive of mountain of refuse hidden behind it! Interesting technique for waste disposal, I thought.

The town of Aguas Calientes was probably the most modern I had seen in all of South America. It was clear that it was a cash-rich area and not surprising after we discovered that since our copy of the Lonely Planet had been published, the price to visit Machu Picchu had quadrupled to 120 Soles per person. Plus the coach was 30. Fucking liberty. We ate lunch at one of the hundreds of touristy restaurants. Mine was meat and rice and was okay but Arthur ordered Spag Bol which turned out to be overcooked spaghetti with tomato ketchup and slices of beef - mmmm

I didn't enjoy the bus journey, the road was narrow and the drop fierce. I decided a sleep would be in order. When we got their however none of us were disappointed. Machu Picchu was set in the most amazing spot I think I have ever had the privilege of experiencing. The sun seemed to be close enough to touch from the highest peak. Words really will not do the views justice. The misty mountains completely encircled this 550 year old and 2000 metre high city were truly astonishing. Thankfully the Spanish never discovered it and so it largly remains unscathed. One of the first sites we visited was the sacrificial stone; a huge flat-topped table with small stairs leading up. We all admired it trying to imagine times passed of virgins being sacrificed to the mountain gods. Incas believed the mountains were gods and the earth 'Pacchu Mama' was there lord. If the gods were angry, sometimes in the form of erupting volcanoes, they would need offerings in the forms of young and pure girls.

We then walked to highest point where the classic postcards are taken. The group split up at this point and I bumped into Colin and Jon sitting near the top of the site. We just sat contemplating and staring in awe of the beauty. I jokingly decided to make a ceremonial pentacle in an effort to talk to the gods as the weather became very windy. I called upon the sun god to calm the weather and just as I did so, the wind amusingly stopped! I then tested the reverse and requested wind, sure enough the gods spoke and the winds once again became high; I tried this again and it ridiculously worked. The views were really out of this world and the scene made one feel totally euphoric; maybe it partially due to the altitude. The three of us including Colin sporting a walking stick and a unusual newly procured pink child's bonnet (see photos, they pretty much show these events in order, although you'll have to be my friend on facebook.) walked towards the North side where the residential quarters lay. On the way we passed a middle aged women sitting in a half lotus position meditating (obviously could manage the full lotus). This made me laugh. I mean please. I'm sorry, but I can't stand shit like that; yeah, each to their own and 'n' all that shit but some fat lesbian sitting as if she had found Nirvana in Machu Picchu just seemed ridiculous; call me a cynical bastard, I don't care, I just wanted to throw a bucket of water over her. Plus, she had her eyes shut and I swear I turned around and caught her off guard catching them open; then she shut them again quickly.

We continued through the main town area to find a garden of Lamas. I broke off a branch of leaves and approached them; most fled at the sight of me but one didn't seem bothered by my presence and ate from my hand allowing me to pet him/her. Nefs apparently had tried to coax one off the side of a cliff! Qualitly. One black and white one was not so friendly and growled at me when I approached him attempted to spit at me. As I left the garden area a dumb Barby looking American woman asked me if they were friendly. I pointed at the black and white one and said "Yeah sure, he is." I walked off chuckling. The sight of a stupid blonde running around trying to catch the lamas was classic. Even the friendly one hated her. We climbed up some stairs and decided we'd had enough of the Machu Picchu experience. Colin was really suffering at this point; a mixture of the altitude and his leg hole had caused him to become incredibly weak and he and I though he was gonna faint. I helped pull him up some steps and we made our way back to the bus stop.

By this point it was about 4pm. Jon had decided he would join Colin and Gaz in their bus journey home which meant that Nefs, Arthur and me could smash it all the way back. Oh yes. But first, we had to get back to the bikes, which meant returning along that 2 hour train track journey on foot. It would be dark soon and we had no torches. Off we trotted. I initiated a jog and we were soon cruising along back along the awkward track. It reminded us of that film Stand by Me and we started singing "lollypop lollypop oooo lolly lollypop do do do do!" No one new any of the other words so we just repeated until we got bored. On the way to Aguas Calientes we had passed through a tunnel which was about a half way point. The tunnel still hadn't arrived. We got worried. It was now dark. No sign of the tunnel. Shit. After talking about how harsh it would be to be doing this in pitch black darkness, we eventually came to the rusty bridge, eh? Where was the tunnel? Turns out we had completely missed the tunnel by getting dropped off early on the bus back from Machu Picchu. Thank fuck. We were safe; almost. We reached the end of the track and bumped into a couple of stranded Israelis. He he heee. Part of me wanted to leave them there but I - unlike their nation - consider myself a humanitarian. I jest of course they aren't all rude pricks. And one cannot condem a whole nation just by the actions of their government. Anyway, we took them back. I pillioned a girl of about 22 on my bike. I felt very unsafe. I did luckily have Gaz's glasses so I could see, but having the life of another as my responsibility made me uncomfortable, especially as we were covering highly dangerous roads at night and next to the roads lay certain death in the form of us plummeting thousands of feet. Anyhow, to make myself feel better I spoke to her about her travels; where she'd been and where she'd be heading next. This worked and we chatted for the whole way back. She was nice and promised to buy me a drink when we got back. We got back to Aguas Calientes and to be fair she was very thankful, in fact she said absolutely love it and wanted more! I offered her a trip back to Cusco (obviously joking) she uncomfortably said no, not understanding my superior humour. We said our goodbyes and assured them we'd hold them to that drink.

The three of us then went took a dinner of alpaca steak, which was ok but a little tough, and treated ourselves to a nice bottle of red. The Israelis turned up in the restaurant and at first actually blanked us. They then saw us and pretended it was for the first time. They came over and shook our hands although no grtuatous drink manifested. We of course didn't mention it. It was then bed time.