The way to Aguas Calientes

It's been a while since my last post. I've been ill for the first time in ages and it was very difficult to think.
Now hopefully we'll get back to a normal blogging experience.

Early in the morning, we started packing our bags again.

We made sure we weren't forgetting anything, tried once more for a warm shower (it didn't happen), had breakfast at Hearts café (a powerful, big breakfast), bought some snacks for the road and went to take our van.

The drive to hidroeléctrica was hectic and awful. 

Even though the landscape was beautiful; the non-stop curves of the mountain road, the changes in altitude (we went up to 5400 masl) and the randomness of the driver made me feel sick most of the way.

The frozen landscape at the highest altitude on the road.

Besides, the van was fully packed, and I was sitting in the back next to a random couple, while Chey was sitting in the front with the driver, who couldn't help speeding as if we were being chased by Godzilla.

Chey could enjoy all the randomness of the driver from the front seat.

One-vehicle-wide road, and many surprise trucks made for
an interesting and never boring way!!

"Still quite nice looking", I thought while I prayed that the green faced
guy next to me would hold his puke until we made it there.

Around an hour before arriving to Hidroeléctrica, the van stopped in a small town "for lunch", which was sort of ridiculous because we were almost there.

The small eaterie where lunch was served didn't have options, but a fixed menu (meaty, of course). Besides, we were both feeling quite rough after the crazy ride, so we just decided to pass and sit around until it was time to go.

They had a little boy serving the food, and he offered me a tea (saying it was included on the price we had payed for the transport), so I said yes thank you.

Chey, hearing that food was included, had some plain rice and soggy "papas fritas" (fries),that were the non-meaty part of the menu.

Then, when we were ready to go, the restaurant people proceded to ask for money from all of us, and hell broke loose.

We didn't want the food to begin with, and I had only had that tea because I thought it was free, but that's obviously the catch, and we didn't owe much so we thought it would be better to just pay.

Other people, in the other hand, had payed for a "guided tour" walk to Aguas Calientes (a horrible rip-off), and the lunch was supposedly included on the price (way, way higher than the price of just the van to hidroeléctrica).

There was fighting, anger, and the chance of having to stay there until an Argentinian couple agreed to pay their part.

Finally, and after a lot of yelling, passive-agressive remarks and eye rolling, they gave in and we continued the short way to the dam.

View from the tiny town: the river that feeds the dam.

On arrival, my first surprise was the big amount of people doing the walking thing. We were expecting to be among a chosen few people, but there were around 5 other tourist minivans dropping people.

The big differences between us and the rest were:
a) at least 3/4 of the people was on a group with a guide (which made us feel smug)

b) most people leave their backpacks at the hostels in Cusco, and go to MP with only small daypacks. We were carrying our ridiculously big full backpacks with all of our stuff, because of our two day detour in Ollantaytambo and the fact that we like the freedom of deciding how long to stay and what to do on the spot (that made us... ok, me, feel ridiculous)

So feeling ridiculous but free, we started walking  across a bridge and towards the train tracks.

Adri across the bridge: more backpack than girl.

Chey across the bridge. Still a substantial
amount of backpack.

The weather could not have been more different from Cusco's dry altitude: the air was heavy and moist (yes, yes, I know people hate that word but I don't get why, it's just a word. MOIST MOIST MOIST). It felt warm and tropical.

As we made our way I started feeling better and losing the horrible dizziness that the drive there had given me. Every now and then, we would pass a couple of people, or a group would quickly walk by us (unrestrained by heavy loads); but in general we felt like the road was ours.

We passed the fancy train on our way, getting loaded with stuff.

Walking on the train tracks was like being in an old Disney movie.

Evry now and then there would be a train car, randomly parked in
the middle of nowhere.

Of course Chey had to have a mandatory train picture.

That's how I would've looked if we were rich and lazy.*

The train tracks are surrounded by a beautiful, lush rainforest, and at times we would walk by a river (how tempting it was to drop everything and go swimming!).

Still, after a few hours, my back and my knees were suffering, my shoulders were red and bruised, and I just wanted to sit down on the dirt and cry.

All the locals arrive to Aguas Calientes walking the train tracks,
carrying those big loads and putting me to shame.

My backpack and I: a love-hate story.

It took some effort, but when the sun was already gone we made it through a tunnel and only 15 minutes later we were in the cute little town of Aguas Calientes.

With a sense of accomplishment, we sat down on some stairs right by the train station, dropped our bags and sighed with relief.

We were tired, sweaty, hungry, sweaty, looking forward to finding a place to sleep... and sweaty.

Did I mention we were sweaty?

So when a lady approached us asking if we were looking for accommodation, we went with her to take a look, rather than just do our usual finding a place on our own. We were dying for a shower.

Luckily, the place was cheap and it seemed nice enough, so we just checked in, dropped our bags, had showers and went out looking for food.

Aguas Calientes is a gringo festival. The town would not exist if it wasn't because of the proximity to the ruins of Machu Picchu, so everything (everything) is tourist oriented, and all of the Peruvian locals work in tourism related things: hotels, restaurants, tour agencies, info places, and shops.

It felt crazy that wherever we went to we were completely surrounded by English and English speakers.

We had dinner, bought our tickets to MP and, after a walk down the main road (there are no cars in the town, so it feels so cozy and calm) we retired to our room to get some rest and finally get to MP the following morning.

*Disclaimer: we have nothing against taking the train, that was just a joke. We have nothing against being rich and lazy either! If I was rich I would, most likely, become lazy too. And I wouldn't mind at all.