I'm a little bit different. I like doing things the hard way and receive an enormous amount of satisfaction from attempting any sort of physical challenge, as evidenced in earlier blog entries with a run around the top of a volcano, and a backflip from an 8m platform. Succeed or fail, I like to push myself to physical limits. It was for this reason that I went against the grain when selecting a trek to do in Peru. The traditional 4 day Inca Trail is tough from all reports, but 500 people complete it every day, of all shapes and sizes, young and old. 'How hard could it really be?', I found myself asking without really knowing the answer. But I wanted something different. I searched the net for alternatives and found a few other 4 and 5 day treks finishing in Machu Picchu. Less popular, and at least as challenging, now I was getting somewhere. Then I found it, a 9 day, 8 night adventure, taking in more ancient Incan ruins than just Machu Picchu. Not offered by many tour companies, I booked a spot on this trek starting March 15 there & then.
Fast forward a few months, and I was incredibly excited about this trek, especially once I got to Peru. Two days before the trek started I was scheduled to meet my guide, and when the first thing Abel asked me was 'You're a little bit crazy, right?', I knew I'd made the right choice for me!
It turned out that the other people who had pre-booked this trek had since cancelled, so I was the only tourist! There's not a lot of information about this trek or the sites we visited along the way available on the Internet, so my next few blog posts are going to be a rather detailed account of the journey from my fairly unique perspective. Hopefully it encourages more people to challenge themselves and give this trek a go. It really is worth the hard work.
Day 1 started with an early (5am) start. The plan was to catch a bus from Cusco to our starting point, the town of Cachora, a few hours west. Local political protests meant the the road beyond Cachora was blocked, and as a result no bus companies were operating that route on that particular day. A few phone calls were made and soon enough we bundled myself, Abel, our chef(!) Esterio, and 9 days worth of camping equipment and supplies into a taxi to make the 3 hour journey.
I'd been warned that along the way we'd see many landslides, but still I was blown away by just how many there were. Coming from the relatively flat country of Australia, a landslide onto a major road is a pretty big deal. Here in Peru, it's an everyday (multiple times a day) occurrence. It seemed that every 2 or 3 kilometers there would be what I would call a major landslide, where traffic on the road is significantly impacted, and at least a small offroad detour is required. 4 or 5 of these bigger sites had bulldozers and trucks working to clear the road, but it appeared to be a losing battle. Between these major landslides was any number of small ones, sometimes it seemed that every hundred meters there was a car sized deposit of rocks on the roadside that had been dislodged from above either by rain, or the 'natural' environmental impact of cutting a wedge into the mountain to make a road. A winding and at times treacherous 3 hours later we turned off the main road and headed toward Cachora. Popping quickly over the top of the mountain and descending into the nice green valley on the other side, I noticed this side of the mountain seemed wetter, and wet dirt roads mean one thing, more landslides. It was only a few minutes before we came to a point that we couldn't pass. Locals said gradually, over a couple of weeks, this huge section of mountain above the road had slowly been slipping, then all of a sudden it gave way, completely covering about a 30m section of road and enveloping a house or two on the other side. We had no choice but to unpack the car and lug everything to the other side by foot, where another car took us the rest of the way to Cachora (only about 5 minutes).
By now it was lunch time and I had a head full of memories already, we hadn't even started the hike yet!
After lunch we met our horseman and his 3 mules, who would helpfully carry most of our supplies so we didn't have to, certainly necessary considering the amount of stuff we had for 9 days. Now I really felt like I was really doing my bit for Peru's tourism industry - 3 men and 3 mules on a trek for a single tourist! (These numbers probably would have been the same had there been another 2 or 3 tourists).
Off we started walking out of Cachora, along a mountain track next to what started as a pretty small little stream. The first hour had a few waterfall and landslide crossings as we went up maybe a couple of hundred meters fairly quickly. The track then widened and flattened out for a couple more hours of steady but not steep uphill walking until we reached our highest point for the day. By now the small stream we started next to was a roaring river 1000m below us, having been added to by all the waterfalls we'd crossed and merging with other streams coming in from between different mountains. The sound of the rapids churning was only bettered by the views of the huge mountains we'd been walking amongst.
Still struck by the sheer number of landslides we'd come across, looking across the valley back towards where we'd come from gave a good indication of the difference in magnitude of the 'manmade' landslides, caused by cutting into the mountain, and the natural ones, which were much, much bigger. Pondering these natural landslides gave me my first mind blowing moment of the trek. How many thousands (millions?) of years have these gigantic mountains been here, only to get to a single instant in time where a massive chunk weakens and falls down creating a new landscape? The world is a big, old place, and I'm so fortunate to be here exploring this extremely remote and unique place that is The Andes!
From the highest point for the day it was about another 1.5 hours down to our campsite for the night, at 1800m above sea level. A few more tricky waterfalls to navigate, but in general the descent was fairly dry and rocky. All in all about 17km covered on day one. 11km of pretty easy uphill followed by about 6km of fairly quick descent. Campsite for the night was a place called Cacerio Chikisca, and it's actually a 'community' where a few people live, and make bugger all money selling drinks to the few trekkers that come this way. On arrival we drank sugar cane juice, an alcoholic beverage made from sugar cane (duh) that tasted and smelled like a plastic bag of apples left to ferment and turn to a liquid in the sun. Surprisingly delicious though (I didn't think of that comparison until AFTER I was finished!). The rain set in for the night soon after dinner, so it was early to bed to get ready for day 2, the hardest day from all reports.
Day two was another early start, breakfast soon after sunrise and on the move at 630. The itinerary for the day involved making our way down the to river, crossing the bridge and then walking steep uphill for a few hours to our lunch spot, then continuing on to the Choquequirao (easiest pronounced 'Chocky-kira') ruins by mid afternoon, with time to explore one half of the site before dinner time. A full day!
The descent of about 600m was much the same as the previous afternoon, a dry, rocky mountain track, zig zagging quickly down the mountain in parts, and winding down and around more gradually in others. Landslides and small waterfalls again a prominent feature of the 35-40 minute trip to the river at the bottom.
I was pleased to see a sturdy looking, relatively recently constructed bridge, as this was grade 4 or 5 type rafting river, no chance of crossing on foot. The power and energy in the raging torrent was easy to see, and hear. Once across, it was up up up. We'd been warned about one section in particular where there had been recent landslides, and to move through that section quickly. That was motivation enough for me to push through any desire to stop or slow down. Once you start seeing rocks the size of microwaves, and bigger, strewn all across and around the track you're walking on, you realise how helpless you'd be if there was ten or more of these things tumbling down the mountain towards you. The track zig zagged up the mountain so we had to traverse this precarious landslide section 6 or 7 times. I tried not to stop the entire way. Once past the particularly dodgy part the track got even steeper, still traversing up the mountain, it became a real mental slog. Most of the time I found myself looking straight down in front, only occasionally glancing up to see how far away the next turn was, which was never more than 5 or 10 meters. After an hour and a half of this uphill business it was getting really tough, physically now as well as mentally. My quads were cramping and I found the only way to push through was to count my steps. 350 was my first count between rests, these were small steps, one foot in front of the other. Right, now I had my goal, from now on I couldn't rest until I'd done at least 350 steps. I'd focus on the bead of sweat rolling left and right on the frame of my glasses with each swaying footstep and just trudge forward, ever uphill. This tactic actually worked and before long Abel was saying its just 10 more minutes to the top. I turned and looked at him and asked if this level of exhaustion was normal at this point of the climb. 'Yep' was his one word response as he also struggled for breath. So on I pushed, Abel constantly just a few steps behind, I figured he must have been doing it a lot easier than me. It was 10:15 when we finally reached some flat ground at our lunch spot, Marampata, my shirt was dripping with sweat (there's a video of me wringing it out!) and Abel collapsed forward onto his knees and assured me that what we'd done wasn't actually normal, and usually groups get to this point closer to midday, you know, lunch time. We'd climbed 1700m in a little under 3 hours, and I was pretty proud, not to mention exhausted, at this point.
Some bonus rest time ensued before lunch, then it was onward and upward to Choquequirao. Another hour and a half and we could see my first glimpse of Inca ruins. From across the valley there's two distinct sets of terraces, 15 to 20 six foot high evenly spaced walls stretching across the sheer face of the mountain, making some flat ground for the Inca's to plant crops in. Facing east for plenty of morning sunlight, combined with the rain in these parts, plus the extraordinary aqueduct system (which we couldn't see just yet), I imagined this site covered with all sorts of fruit and vegetables back in the day.
It still took another half hour to wind ourselves up and around the valley before we actually got to the ruins site. In this time we past maybe 15-20 workers, issued with the task of uncovering and restoring this enormous site.
We finally reached the top part of Choquequirao around 2pm, and it was immediately breathtakingly stunning. Starting at the top of one of the agricultural sections, these terraced walls were even bigger than what we'd seen before. 10 feet high and perfectly straight, still, after 550 years. Corners as square as you can imagine, everything just perfect. Moving on up the hill to what's assumed to be the royal houses, things get even more breathtaking. Bigger, straighter cut rocks, and less mortar distinguish these buildings from the surrounding terraced walls. The time and patience required to shape and carve these rocks so perfectly straight to make such walls is simply mind numbing. Small by today's standards, but these grand two story houses were obviously built with such perfection for someone very special. Small details that would have eluded me had I not had Abel were things like windows almost always being in groups of 3, likely representing the 3 animal gods cherished by the Incas - the serpent, the puma and the condor. Little things like that, and the fact that ALL windows and doors had a trapezoidal shape, slightly narrower at the top than the bottom. The attention to detail was unlike anything I've witnessed in person before. Absolutely amazing stuff.
We continued down the mountain a little to the sun temple, again a smallish rectangular room perfectly constructed from huge, perfectly shaped stones. The angles here were probably some of the sharpest I saw, and again the trapezoidal shapes of windows and doors wowed me. By now many, many dozens of photos had been taken, and it was beginning to get dark, with rain threatening so we had to be quick in exploring the terraces on the east side of the mountain that we'd seen earlier from across the valley. Full of energy, we ran downhill to these sections in about 10 minutes (the Choquequirao site is huge and very spread out over the mountain). The size and scale of these terraced walls was even more amazing up close. The stairs between levels were so steep it felt like if you leaned forward too far you'd topple hundreds of meters down the mountain. Now we got to see the incredible aqueduct system in more detail. From the very top of the mountain it runs all the way down to here, splitting and diverting water to different areas, and to each and every terrace in this section. Most definitely this section was used for agricultural purposes. There was also another small section that I thought looked like an amphitheater, nearly semi circular terraces, getting bigger further up the steep incline. Possibly for performing, possibly for public addresses, possibly for more agriculture, the truth is we don't actually know much about this historical site, and there's so much more to learn about the Incas. Whether we'll ever know exactly what all this stuff was used for remains to be seen.
So there ended day 2, it was a slow ascent back up to camp, much slower than the ten minutes it took to get down! In all we covered about 14km of hiking to the Choquequirao site, and then probably another 4 or 5 exploring it for a few hours. An incredibly tough day that lived up to the hype. Physically and mentally challenging, it left me tired, hungry and pretty dehydrated, my water intake nowhere near what it should have been considering the physical exertion I'd outputted. Another fantastic dinner, followed by some card games, then the rain set in for the night once again.
Day 3 started with a well earned 8am sleep in. I awoke feeling pretty average from the dehydration and resolved to drinking a lot more water that day! The Peruvian horseman, chef and guide seemed to get through the days drinking no more than four cups of tea and maybe one bottle of water. I don't know how they do it, but I now know I certainly can't get away with doing the same.
Lacking energy I was glad to hear that day 3 was a pretty easy day. We spent the morning exploring the west side of Choquequirao, where there was even more terraces, and once again, hundreds of 'steeper-than-work-safe' steps. These terraces were different though, each terrace had a llama built into it, sometimes two! 4 or 5 feet high, out of a different white rock to the rest of the terraces, these 24 llamas all faced the same way, and provided a mystery to the whole place that hasn't been able to be solved just yet. What exactly went on here? This isn't natural llama territory, so why here, why llamas on the walls? Whatever the answers, these walls were pretty cool to look at from afar. We made our way around the mountain a little bit to a really good vantage point, took some photos, yelled out into the mountains to hear the echoes, and just sat and took it all in for a while.
It was on this third morning that we saw two (yes 2!) other tourists exploring Choquequirao. For anyone who's been to Machu Picchu, it's an incredible feeling walking around one of these sites with it pretty much to yourself. A few workers here and there, and even less tourists, I'd highly recommend seeing Choquequirao before it inevitably gets over overrun by tourism in the next 5, 10, 25 years, who knows.
Moving on after having lunch at the top of a cliff overlooking kilometers of nothing but massive green mountains and hearing the roaring rivers connecting below, the rest of day 3's journey was an easy downhill walk to camp for night 3. This campsite was yet another set of Incan terraced walls, less spectacular than Choquequirao, but equally mystifying. What went on here? Who lived here? There was one small structure, most likely a house, in the middle but other than that it was just terraces, a few hours walk from Choquequirao. This site was also probably cleared by maintenance staff only once or twice a year, giving some idea of just how quickly these ruins can become overgrown by the surrounding high jungle, and what sort of condition early 20th century explorers would have stumbled across them in. How anyone managed to get to these places without the reasonably well worn tracks used today just astounds me. Any journey to these parts would easily take 4 or 5 times longer than it does today, as they would have to be cutting through thick vegetation the entire way. Mind blowing stuff once again.
Camping atop one of these terraces gave us an afternoon basking in the sun, and bathing in an original Incan bath. Waters that had flowed down from somewhere at the top of the mountain are diverted to this point once again by an aqueduct system and sprout out from one of the terraces, giving me the opportunity to shower in icy cold Andean water, crystal clear, and good enough to drink. I did just that, a lot, finally getting back to a more normal level of hydration and feeling good, ready for day 4...
Fast forward a few months, and I was incredibly excited about this trek, especially once I got to Peru. Two days before the trek started I was scheduled to meet my guide, and when the first thing Abel asked me was 'You're a little bit crazy, right?', I knew I'd made the right choice for me!
It turned out that the other people who had pre-booked this trek had since cancelled, so I was the only tourist! There's not a lot of information about this trek or the sites we visited along the way available on the Internet, so my next few blog posts are going to be a rather detailed account of the journey from my fairly unique perspective. Hopefully it encourages more people to challenge themselves and give this trek a go. It really is worth the hard work.
Day 1 started with an early (5am) start. The plan was to catch a bus from Cusco to our starting point, the town of Cachora, a few hours west. Local political protests meant the the road beyond Cachora was blocked, and as a result no bus companies were operating that route on that particular day. A few phone calls were made and soon enough we bundled myself, Abel, our chef(!) Esterio, and 9 days worth of camping equipment and supplies into a taxi to make the 3 hour journey.
I'd been warned that along the way we'd see many landslides, but still I was blown away by just how many there were. Coming from the relatively flat country of Australia, a landslide onto a major road is a pretty big deal. Here in Peru, it's an everyday (multiple times a day) occurrence. It seemed that every 2 or 3 kilometers there would be what I would call a major landslide, where traffic on the road is significantly impacted, and at least a small offroad detour is required. 4 or 5 of these bigger sites had bulldozers and trucks working to clear the road, but it appeared to be a losing battle. Between these major landslides was any number of small ones, sometimes it seemed that every hundred meters there was a car sized deposit of rocks on the roadside that had been dislodged from above either by rain, or the 'natural' environmental impact of cutting a wedge into the mountain to make a road. A winding and at times treacherous 3 hours later we turned off the main road and headed toward Cachora. Popping quickly over the top of the mountain and descending into the nice green valley on the other side, I noticed this side of the mountain seemed wetter, and wet dirt roads mean one thing, more landslides. It was only a few minutes before we came to a point that we couldn't pass. Locals said gradually, over a couple of weeks, this huge section of mountain above the road had slowly been slipping, then all of a sudden it gave way, completely covering about a 30m section of road and enveloping a house or two on the other side. We had no choice but to unpack the car and lug everything to the other side by foot, where another car took us the rest of the way to Cachora (only about 5 minutes).
By now it was lunch time and I had a head full of memories already, we hadn't even started the hike yet!
After lunch we met our horseman and his 3 mules, who would helpfully carry most of our supplies so we didn't have to, certainly necessary considering the amount of stuff we had for 9 days. Now I really felt like I was really doing my bit for Peru's tourism industry - 3 men and 3 mules on a trek for a single tourist! (These numbers probably would have been the same had there been another 2 or 3 tourists).
Off we started walking out of Cachora, along a mountain track next to what started as a pretty small little stream. The first hour had a few waterfall and landslide crossings as we went up maybe a couple of hundred meters fairly quickly. The track then widened and flattened out for a couple more hours of steady but not steep uphill walking until we reached our highest point for the day. By now the small stream we started next to was a roaring river 1000m below us, having been added to by all the waterfalls we'd crossed and merging with other streams coming in from between different mountains. The sound of the rapids churning was only bettered by the views of the huge mountains we'd been walking amongst.
Still struck by the sheer number of landslides we'd come across, looking across the valley back towards where we'd come from gave a good indication of the difference in magnitude of the 'manmade' landslides, caused by cutting into the mountain, and the natural ones, which were much, much bigger. Pondering these natural landslides gave me my first mind blowing moment of the trek. How many thousands (millions?) of years have these gigantic mountains been here, only to get to a single instant in time where a massive chunk weakens and falls down creating a new landscape? The world is a big, old place, and I'm so fortunate to be here exploring this extremely remote and unique place that is The Andes!
From the highest point for the day it was about another 1.5 hours down to our campsite for the night, at 1800m above sea level. A few more tricky waterfalls to navigate, but in general the descent was fairly dry and rocky. All in all about 17km covered on day one. 11km of pretty easy uphill followed by about 6km of fairly quick descent. Campsite for the night was a place called Cacerio Chikisca, and it's actually a 'community' where a few people live, and make bugger all money selling drinks to the few trekkers that come this way. On arrival we drank sugar cane juice, an alcoholic beverage made from sugar cane (duh) that tasted and smelled like a plastic bag of apples left to ferment and turn to a liquid in the sun. Surprisingly delicious though (I didn't think of that comparison until AFTER I was finished!). The rain set in for the night soon after dinner, so it was early to bed to get ready for day 2, the hardest day from all reports.
Day two was another early start, breakfast soon after sunrise and on the move at 630. The itinerary for the day involved making our way down the to river, crossing the bridge and then walking steep uphill for a few hours to our lunch spot, then continuing on to the Choquequirao (easiest pronounced 'Chocky-kira') ruins by mid afternoon, with time to explore one half of the site before dinner time. A full day!
The descent of about 600m was much the same as the previous afternoon, a dry, rocky mountain track, zig zagging quickly down the mountain in parts, and winding down and around more gradually in others. Landslides and small waterfalls again a prominent feature of the 35-40 minute trip to the river at the bottom.
I was pleased to see a sturdy looking, relatively recently constructed bridge, as this was grade 4 or 5 type rafting river, no chance of crossing on foot. The power and energy in the raging torrent was easy to see, and hear. Once across, it was up up up. We'd been warned about one section in particular where there had been recent landslides, and to move through that section quickly. That was motivation enough for me to push through any desire to stop or slow down. Once you start seeing rocks the size of microwaves, and bigger, strewn all across and around the track you're walking on, you realise how helpless you'd be if there was ten or more of these things tumbling down the mountain towards you. The track zig zagged up the mountain so we had to traverse this precarious landslide section 6 or 7 times. I tried not to stop the entire way. Once past the particularly dodgy part the track got even steeper, still traversing up the mountain, it became a real mental slog. Most of the time I found myself looking straight down in front, only occasionally glancing up to see how far away the next turn was, which was never more than 5 or 10 meters. After an hour and a half of this uphill business it was getting really tough, physically now as well as mentally. My quads were cramping and I found the only way to push through was to count my steps. 350 was my first count between rests, these were small steps, one foot in front of the other. Right, now I had my goal, from now on I couldn't rest until I'd done at least 350 steps. I'd focus on the bead of sweat rolling left and right on the frame of my glasses with each swaying footstep and just trudge forward, ever uphill. This tactic actually worked and before long Abel was saying its just 10 more minutes to the top. I turned and looked at him and asked if this level of exhaustion was normal at this point of the climb. 'Yep' was his one word response as he also struggled for breath. So on I pushed, Abel constantly just a few steps behind, I figured he must have been doing it a lot easier than me. It was 10:15 when we finally reached some flat ground at our lunch spot, Marampata, my shirt was dripping with sweat (there's a video of me wringing it out!) and Abel collapsed forward onto his knees and assured me that what we'd done wasn't actually normal, and usually groups get to this point closer to midday, you know, lunch time. We'd climbed 1700m in a little under 3 hours, and I was pretty proud, not to mention exhausted, at this point.
Some bonus rest time ensued before lunch, then it was onward and upward to Choquequirao. Another hour and a half and we could see my first glimpse of Inca ruins. From across the valley there's two distinct sets of terraces, 15 to 20 six foot high evenly spaced walls stretching across the sheer face of the mountain, making some flat ground for the Inca's to plant crops in. Facing east for plenty of morning sunlight, combined with the rain in these parts, plus the extraordinary aqueduct system (which we couldn't see just yet), I imagined this site covered with all sorts of fruit and vegetables back in the day.
It still took another half hour to wind ourselves up and around the valley before we actually got to the ruins site. In this time we past maybe 15-20 workers, issued with the task of uncovering and restoring this enormous site.
We finally reached the top part of Choquequirao around 2pm, and it was immediately breathtakingly stunning. Starting at the top of one of the agricultural sections, these terraced walls were even bigger than what we'd seen before. 10 feet high and perfectly straight, still, after 550 years. Corners as square as you can imagine, everything just perfect. Moving on up the hill to what's assumed to be the royal houses, things get even more breathtaking. Bigger, straighter cut rocks, and less mortar distinguish these buildings from the surrounding terraced walls. The time and patience required to shape and carve these rocks so perfectly straight to make such walls is simply mind numbing. Small by today's standards, but these grand two story houses were obviously built with such perfection for someone very special. Small details that would have eluded me had I not had Abel were things like windows almost always being in groups of 3, likely representing the 3 animal gods cherished by the Incas - the serpent, the puma and the condor. Little things like that, and the fact that ALL windows and doors had a trapezoidal shape, slightly narrower at the top than the bottom. The attention to detail was unlike anything I've witnessed in person before. Absolutely amazing stuff.
We continued down the mountain a little to the sun temple, again a smallish rectangular room perfectly constructed from huge, perfectly shaped stones. The angles here were probably some of the sharpest I saw, and again the trapezoidal shapes of windows and doors wowed me. By now many, many dozens of photos had been taken, and it was beginning to get dark, with rain threatening so we had to be quick in exploring the terraces on the east side of the mountain that we'd seen earlier from across the valley. Full of energy, we ran downhill to these sections in about 10 minutes (the Choquequirao site is huge and very spread out over the mountain). The size and scale of these terraced walls was even more amazing up close. The stairs between levels were so steep it felt like if you leaned forward too far you'd topple hundreds of meters down the mountain. Now we got to see the incredible aqueduct system in more detail. From the very top of the mountain it runs all the way down to here, splitting and diverting water to different areas, and to each and every terrace in this section. Most definitely this section was used for agricultural purposes. There was also another small section that I thought looked like an amphitheater, nearly semi circular terraces, getting bigger further up the steep incline. Possibly for performing, possibly for public addresses, possibly for more agriculture, the truth is we don't actually know much about this historical site, and there's so much more to learn about the Incas. Whether we'll ever know exactly what all this stuff was used for remains to be seen.
So there ended day 2, it was a slow ascent back up to camp, much slower than the ten minutes it took to get down! In all we covered about 14km of hiking to the Choquequirao site, and then probably another 4 or 5 exploring it for a few hours. An incredibly tough day that lived up to the hype. Physically and mentally challenging, it left me tired, hungry and pretty dehydrated, my water intake nowhere near what it should have been considering the physical exertion I'd outputted. Another fantastic dinner, followed by some card games, then the rain set in for the night once again.
Day 3 started with a well earned 8am sleep in. I awoke feeling pretty average from the dehydration and resolved to drinking a lot more water that day! The Peruvian horseman, chef and guide seemed to get through the days drinking no more than four cups of tea and maybe one bottle of water. I don't know how they do it, but I now know I certainly can't get away with doing the same.
Lacking energy I was glad to hear that day 3 was a pretty easy day. We spent the morning exploring the west side of Choquequirao, where there was even more terraces, and once again, hundreds of 'steeper-than-work-safe' steps. These terraces were different though, each terrace had a llama built into it, sometimes two! 4 or 5 feet high, out of a different white rock to the rest of the terraces, these 24 llamas all faced the same way, and provided a mystery to the whole place that hasn't been able to be solved just yet. What exactly went on here? This isn't natural llama territory, so why here, why llamas on the walls? Whatever the answers, these walls were pretty cool to look at from afar. We made our way around the mountain a little bit to a really good vantage point, took some photos, yelled out into the mountains to hear the echoes, and just sat and took it all in for a while.
It was on this third morning that we saw two (yes 2!) other tourists exploring Choquequirao. For anyone who's been to Machu Picchu, it's an incredible feeling walking around one of these sites with it pretty much to yourself. A few workers here and there, and even less tourists, I'd highly recommend seeing Choquequirao before it inevitably gets over overrun by tourism in the next 5, 10, 25 years, who knows.
Moving on after having lunch at the top of a cliff overlooking kilometers of nothing but massive green mountains and hearing the roaring rivers connecting below, the rest of day 3's journey was an easy downhill walk to camp for night 3. This campsite was yet another set of Incan terraced walls, less spectacular than Choquequirao, but equally mystifying. What went on here? Who lived here? There was one small structure, most likely a house, in the middle but other than that it was just terraces, a few hours walk from Choquequirao. This site was also probably cleared by maintenance staff only once or twice a year, giving some idea of just how quickly these ruins can become overgrown by the surrounding high jungle, and what sort of condition early 20th century explorers would have stumbled across them in. How anyone managed to get to these places without the reasonably well worn tracks used today just astounds me. Any journey to these parts would easily take 4 or 5 times longer than it does today, as they would have to be cutting through thick vegetation the entire way. Mind blowing stuff once again.
Camping atop one of these terraces gave us an afternoon basking in the sun, and bathing in an original Incan bath. Waters that had flowed down from somewhere at the top of the mountain are diverted to this point once again by an aqueduct system and sprout out from one of the terraces, giving me the opportunity to shower in icy cold Andean water, crystal clear, and good enough to drink. I did just that, a lot, finally getting back to a more normal level of hydration and feeling good, ready for day 4...
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