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13th March 2011
Day 4
Inca temples (for people and for guinea pigs) - Pisac
I awoke late today, obviously tired from the travel and walking of the previous few days.The people in the dormitory at the hostel were coming and going.Some were returning from Machu Piccu, others just arriving.It was good to be able to pass on a few tips about where to go to eat and what to see.
Marika had already made enquiries about the route to Pisac, a small village about 30km north east of Cusco in the 'Sacred Valley, so I knew to jump in a taxi to the bus station and then take a bus.The bus cost 2.40 Soles (about 40p) and although it did stop to collect locals, putting their bicycles and baggage on the roof, it was a fairly civilised journey.The most remarkable thing about the bus ride itself was the young Cusquenan man on the bus next to me playing his Nokia mobile MP3 player loudly, the most memorable tune being a pan pipe version of the lambada.Aside from the musical accompaniment, the highlight was the unbelievable scenery.Huge, rolling hills covered in lush green vegetation spread as far as I could see.It reminded me momentarily of the mountains in Kerry, Ireland, but I knew these were at a much greater altitude and held the secrets of the ancient Incas within them.
The bus stopped in Pisac.I navigated a bridge and found my way to the Plaza de Armas, which was seething with Sunday market traders, many in full traditional dress.I didn't have time to appreciate the terrific colours and scents of the food market because I knew I needed to locate a telephone to call Marika promptly, before she set off to explore the Inca ruins.I almost got lost wandering through the maze of the local handicraft market too.I have never seen so many alpaca scarves and jumpers of every shape, size and colour.I darted into a side street, and found a telephone.Marika was back near where the bus dropped me off, already negotiating with a taxi driver to take her to the ruins.She was fluent in Spanish, as well as Italian, Portuguese and with excellent English.I am not sure how I would have fared for the two days without her translation skills.
I had time to grab a delicious 'empanada', which is a sort of Peruvian pasty filled with cheese, chicken or meat.I also saw my first 'cuy' (said cooey), the local Peruvian delicacy of guinea pig.The creature was lying upside down with its feet in the air having just been roasted, ready for serving with a potato or two.I was really keen to try it, but I just didn't have time.I also spotted the little Inca temples full of guinea pigs of every colour, running around unbeknownst to their fate.I thought this made a fantastic 'before' photograph, and was delighted when I later found out these temples were called 'castillos de cuyes' (castles of guinea pigs).
I managed to locate Marika, who had been joined by two other travellers, Carlos and another lady from Argentina, neither of whom spoke any English.It didn't matter though, because we all shared the same desire to get up the huge hill above the village to see the ruins.We agreed on a price, which included the driver agreeing to wait for us, and we set off.We got to the top of the hill after about 15 minutes drive.Although I knew I had the impending Inca Trail the following day, and that the practice would have been good, I was also very pleased that I didn't chose the long and steep hike.
After Marika and Carlos had attempted to play tunes on the traditional local instruments for sale (like a big wooden recorder), we began to explore the site.The first thing that struck me was the beautiful agricultural terraces that were cut deep into the hillside and descended nearly all the way back to the village.I read that there were no steps in the terraces, as these caused erosion.Instead there were protruding stones in a diagonal from the top of the terrace wall above until the base of the terrace below.
As we approached the fairly well preserved buildings, I also noticed the plinths that extended into the void where the roof would have been.It was clear that they were small people, and we all had trouble squeezing up the narrow staircases.Marika, Carlos and I were feeling adventurous so we hiked up some steps, where the sign with painted white letters sensibly warned 'slowly' and then up a hill to get a vista of the valley.It was truly stunning, with the Rio Urubamba (river) snaking it's way past the houses in the village and the base of the Andes sloping above us.We moved down to more Inca ruins and once again Marika and Carlos were very helpful in finding a guide who spoke Spanish and English.We spent about an hour with him, as he explained the difference between the 'rustic' style of the dwellings we had first been exploring, and the large, angular blocks of Incan architecture like that we were currently walking around.This was reserved, the guide told us, for temples and sacred places.He pointed out the double doorways (like a stepped alcove into the door way) which represented being somewhere sacred.We also saw the half cross etched out of stone, which at certain times of day cast a shadow to form a full cross, with the symbolism of three levels: the world above, the world we are in, and the world below.
It struck me just how spiritual the Incas wereThey prayed to the earth and to the mountains, because they believed them to be gods, they made sacrifices to satisfy their demands and offerings to appease them and in hope o a good harvest and a peaceful life.They also had a respect and wonder for the celestial bodies of the sun and the moon, with temples often dedicated to them,.We walked to the place high above Pisac village, where the guide explained the huts we could see were old granary stores and the small houses were the original village.The Incas of Pisac used to farm in the vally and then walk back up the hill to this point where they were safe from earthquakes and floods.We left offerings of coca leaves and made our way back to the taxi driver.
Upon returning to the village, I said goodbye to Marika: she was going to continue her jouney to Ollyantambo and Aguas Calientes, both places I would be visiting en route to and from the Inca Trail.Carlos and I got the bus back to Cusco and although we tried to communicate, we just couldn't bridge the language barrier between us, but I promised I would send him pictures of the day's events.We did however realise we were in the same hostel, just because we had the same wristband on, so that made catching a taxi back from the bus station very easy.I retired to my room to pack, excited about setting off for the trail the following day, anxious that I had packed the right things, and hopeful that I hadn't packed too much that I would overload the porters.
As there are no plugs at Maccu Pichu, I will be completing the next blog entry upon my return.So until then, keep your fingers crossed that I make it!
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