Día Cuatro, Día Peligroso

a mini bus picked us up at our hostel for our two day machu picchu tour at 730. we then picked up the remainder of our tour group - another 9 people - around cusco. our last pickup was twan, who was running late because he´d been sitting on the wrong tour bus (the 4 day jungle trek bus) for half an hour before someone had asked him why he didn´t have more gear, as all he was carrying was a small man purse. we also met karen and gary, an irish couple who had quit their jobs to travel for a year. it started out innocently enough, even though our driver seemed to be 15 years old and didn´t speak a word of english (fair enough, except ronaldo (bastardo) had promised that our guide would answer any questions we had, as he hadn´t told us a single thing about the trip).

after we left the crowded streets of cusco, it became apparent our driver was either a) was on la cocaina or b) the accelerator was permanently broken, stuck on 130km per hour (much like the broken speedometer, which hovered around 0km per hour ... and the seatbelts, which were not only broken, but non-existent).

at least for the first two hours, we were on paved roads, at least until we passed a major accident. a mini bus had collided into a larger tour bus, and the mini bus was demolished in the front, and there was blood everywhere. we later found out two peruvian tourists (a 16 and a 17 year old) had died in the collision. the driver slowed down for a little bit afterwards, but after about 15 minutes, we realized it was short lived. he was flying down the road so fast, he wasn´t able to stay in his own lane, and we were rounding sharp curves in the oncoming traffic lane with no visibility and no guard rail. even that was okay, until ...

we suddenly stopped, with no explanation, behind a huge line of traffic where people were milling around, and peruvian women were selling drinks and snacks.

since our driver had just disappared, we found out (by asking around) that this particular road was being worked on, and was only open for one hour every day. we figured this explained why he had driven so fast, so he wouldn´t miss the opening, otherwise we would have had to wait until the next day to get through. when it opened, twenty minute later, there were construction workers holding ´slow´ signs, so we expected, as in the states, once you pass the last one, you merge back onto paved roads. stupid gringos. the roads were all dirt, with curves so sharp they were almost u-turns, indispersed with short stretches of straightaway. not to mention - we were high up in the andes, and in the places there were guardrails, they were only placed on the very sharpest part of the curve. usually, the guardrails were only several feet long (and crumpled, which was reassuring), and




in many parts, only stones marked the edge, as parts of the road had collapsed due to landslides. speaking of landslides, we were actually stopped at the edge of one for many minutes, while construction workers removed the rubble from the most recent one. it was horrifying getting to the next stretch of road on the adjacent mountain, as you could see the road you were on, indeed, the entire mountain, was one giant landslide waiting to happen.
side note: it seems the incas were very smart, as they built machu picchu on a mountain of solid rock, as opposed to these sand hills that are 3000 feet above sea level.

we started counting landslides after a giant rock bounced off the roof of the bus, and passed through the remains at least ten - and in places, the road was still thick with rubble left over from previous slides. we thought the terror was over as we entered a small town, but as we exited the town, we realized the real road to machu picchu was beginning.

the horrors.

we careened around sharp turns, literally on the edge of the cliff, overlooking a giant valley thousands of feet below. at one point, the bus in front of us began spinning wheels, not able to make it around a hairpin turn with a steep incline.

there was a momentary silence in the van as we tried to figure out what was going on, then our driver threw the van into reverse. the bus shifted from side to side, bouncing up and down, as the tires tried to grip the dusty, pebbly path. the bus slid from its relative safety of three inches from the edge of the cliff to a mere one. the passengers erupted into screams and shouts in spanish. the brazilian group in the back shouted in spanish to be let off the bus so they could walk. everyone instinctively threw their weight to the right side of the bus, grabbing onto any sort of handhold they could find, even preparing to throw open the door.

we arrived in santa theresa for our promised lunch, where our driver (for the first time) turned and addressed us in spanish. we figured out he was telling us we had 40 minutes for lunch, and then we would drive for an additional 40 minutes to arrive at the hydroelectric, which we would catch to the town of agua calientes. we were all starving, as it was approximately 3pm, so it was a welcome break. as we attempted to step out of the bus, a man (apparently a friend of the driver, as he was another 15 year old wielding a cell phone) shoved his way into the bus, slammed the door, and we began moving again. lunch?

as we veered off onto another road, it began raining. while we were excited about this, because the roads thus far had been extremely dusty, forcing us to keep our windows closed, it created a new problem: mud and the possibility of a flash flood, as we were now following alongside a giant river filled with giant, smooth stones, and most likely, pirhanas. luckily, we were much closer to the bottom of the valley, and were therefore much less likely to tumble off the side of the cliff.

we finally arrived at a tiny train station, where a man (our guide for the remainder of our stay in machu picchu, although we didn´t yet know it) met us. we had two options - hike two hours to agua calientes, or take the hydroelectric. as our legs were still jelly from the hideous bus ride, we all opted to take the train. unfortunately, only twan and ourselves had train tickets, although the other people on our tour had purchased them. everything was mixed up, everyone was confused, and the guide refused to answer any questions. if someone asked him something, he would turn away. we finally got our tickets - although dated for the next day - and found seats on the train. our guide had promised us there would be food on the train, but 15 minutes later, it became apparent he´d lied. dani was bitter and contemplated eating the seat.

the ride into agua calientes took only half an hour, and once arrived, we decided we were going to take the train back to cusco rather than get into our deathtrap of a bus again. we were then taken to our hostel, where a mean woman tried shoving five of us into one room with only one bathroom. this was dani´s breaking point. she turned to the woman and incredulously asked ¨cinco personas? uno baño? no. no. no. no. no.¨ the woman finally got the message, and we were split into two groups - karen and gary in one room, ourselves and twan in another.

we then went downstairs for our promised dinner. we were ravenous, having missed our promised lunch, and couldn´t wait to eat. we were given a menu, and told we could choose one soup and one main course. as the woman (the same mean woman who´d delegated our rooms) came to take our orders, we realized that although we had been given an entire menu, we were only allowed to have one or two things off it. we realized later that it was because there weren´t many of us, and the kitchen didn´t want to prepare many different meals, it was hoping to prepare larger quantities of just a few.

side note (katie): i ordered corn soup. the woman came around with the chicken soup first, and it turns out she´d made an extra one, so she took it back to the kitchen. then the corn and vegetable soups came, all except for mine. after a few moments, i asked her where it was, and she went back to the kitchen and brought back the chicken soup she´d orginally come out with, the extra order. with the help of a brazilian woman in the group, we explained i was a vegetarian. the woman didn´t understand, and even told me the soup was okay ¨because it didn´t have any chicken pieces floating in it.¨ it was so ridiculous we had to laugh, and she took the soup away. ages later, she came back and placed a bowl of soup in front of me. it was hot, but ... still chicken.

still starving, we went foraging. dani and twan bought a pizza with championes (mushrooms, apparently the same word in dutch ... or so twan says, the dirty sletje). we then wandered to the main plaza where we sat on a stone ledge near a fountain and ate the pizza, which consisted of no tomato sauce and dirty tasting cheese. even twan, who we´ve realized eats just about anything, didn´t finish the pizza.

the guide was supposed to meet us at the hostel at 830 to explain the next day, and we had a couple hours left before that, so we found a nearby bar with a happy hour and balcony (four drinks for twenty sols!)


katie went back to the hostel at 830 to meet with the rest of the group, with promises to report back, while dani and twan stayed behind at the bar to take full advantage of the happy hour.*

*a decision dani would regret the next day, having to get up at 338am.


























back at the hostel, katie spoke with the remainder of the group. when the guide finally showed up, around 9pm, he told the group that this had been our bus driver´s first trip to machu picchu, and he had never driven the route before.

sus amigas,

daniela y katerina