Adventures in Peru: Machu Picchu

A friend of mine just got back from Peru and looking at her new Facebook profile picture of her standing in front of Machu Picchu brought back a flood of memories from the most memorable mission trip of my life.

We had finished our two weeks of evangelistic meetings, which were such an amazing and growing experience and now we were on to the touring part of the trip. On March 31, 2010 we flew into Cuszo which is the "official" city that you travel to Machu Picchu from. I love Cuzco, to me it felt almost like a European city, with narrow street ways and brightly coloured shutters (even though I've never been to Europe).

After settling into our quaint hotel room, with a toilet that sounded like a dying cow when it flushed, we prepared to head out very early the next day to visit Machu Picchu. Now Machu Picchu is not a simple place to visit.


First you must take a taxi to the van station where you must wait in line to board a large van to take you to the train station. Though I fell asleep for most of the van ride (unfortunately, since its really beautiful countryside), I think it is about a two hour drive. I'm surprised I could sleep at all. The winding road was very narrow and our van driver acted like he was rally racing. I'm not even joking. It was pretty scary sometimes. Once we reached the train station we had to rush down a short gravel road to catch our train only minutes before it left.

The train was cool and had plush seats. I settled in at a window seat next to my dad. The one sad part of the day was that mom got really bad elevation sickness and was unable to come with us. The train went unbearably slow. I felt sometimes I could have walked fast than that train. But it was the only way to get there. Now Machu Picchu had been closed since January 2010 due to major flooding washing away roads and railroads, and that day, April 1 was the first day it was open for tourists in 3 months. We were very blessed that we had not come a day earlier as we would not have been able to visit. I could peer out the train window and look straight down at the large brown rushing swirling river and I could not see the edge of the bank at all. Standing at the front of the train you could see places where the ground had washed away beneath the tracks. I wondered just how safe this train track was. But I was excited for what the day would bring. We arrived at "base camp" after an hour and a half maybe. It's actually a city called Aguas Calientes and it is the closest access point to Machu Picchu. We exited the train station and were met by a huge crowd of cheering locals and grinning school children dressed neatly in uniforms. They were passing out little trinket gifts, and there were a band. I wondered if this was a normal occurrence, was it because this was the first opening day of Machu Picchu after 3 months? Later I found out that actress Susan Sarandon was visiting Machu Picchu that day, and the celebration could have been for her?

The third leg of our journey consisted of buying bus tickets and then waiting in a long line with other tourists on a city sidewalk to catch a bus to Machu Picchu. If I thought the van ride had been a bit sketchy, the bus ride was almost worse. In some places the road was one lane wide even around the corners and the bus drivers didn't even seemed to be phased that we could have a head-on collision with a descending bus as we swerved and careened around the corners up the road through the lush green hills. 

And then we were there. Let me tell you that Machu Picchu is amazing. You know how sometimes you hear all about these awesome places or landmarks and when you get there you are a bit "let down"? Well Machu Picchu is in no way a let down. The only (slightly) negative part was that we had to get a tour guide and I despise tour guides. I know, I know, they can be useful because they are so knowledgable, but they are NOT useful to me. 

And although Machu Picchu was amazing and very memorable, it was not the most eventful part of the trip that day. After exploring pretty much everywhere we caught the bus back down to Aguas Calientes below. We made our way to the train station. We had pre-purchased tickets for the train. In fact we had bought them before we had even left for Peru. So clutching our tickets we sat down to wait in the station for about 45 minutes before our train left. When the time came for our train to leave, they made an announcement stating the train number and it was not the number of our train. That was strange. The station by this time was very full, packed even, and everyone was making a mad rush towards the train that has just pulled into the station. We located an official train station employee and asked her what was going on with our train. She assured us that no, this train was not our train. Our train had been delay and would arrive soon. So I went back to my bench outside to wait. A light rain was falling, it had been a long day and I was ready to head back to our hotel in Cuzco. The station had emptied down since the last train left and I wandered inside to find a better seat. It was almost time to leave on the next train. But I was dismayed to hear some of our group talked in rather disturbed voices with the same train lady who had told us our train was delayed. I moved over to hear what was going on. "That was your train that just left!" she snapped ,"you missed you train!" What? How could this be. Our group of about 20 had a quick consultation. Almost everyone in the group in some way or other had tried to get onto the last train and had been denied entrance. What to do? A members of our group who spoke Spanish, Carol, pled on our behalf to another station employee, a man who seems a bit more helpful in our plight. Our group was large and all the other trains were already booked completely full. Things were not looking good for us. The man assured us he would do his best to help us get on to the next train. So we waited, and waited. It seemed to me that they had overbooked all the trains due to this being the first day the trains had been open in three months. Of course I wasn't sure, but I met some other people in the station who seemed to have a story similar to ours, but they didn't have a group of 20 people.

Finally another train pulled in. Again there was a mad pushing to the train. Our group hovered by the door, peering anxiously towards the train. The conversation between the station man and Carol consisted of Spanish, so I tried to guess what was going on from hand signals. As he motioned towards us, it seemed like there were some seats on this train. We frantically grabbed our backpacks and rushed out the doors! But no, there were only 2 or 3 seats, and one family in our group with small children boarded.

We commandeered some tables and chairs, and settled down to wait some more. Soon I heard the depressing news that a train had broken down and now everything was even more delayed or not coming at all. Our station man friend told the small station cafe to give us free drinks, which consisted of watery tea that everyone claimed helped with elevation sickness, I wasn't so sure, but I drank it anyways just in case. 

We had at least another hour or two to kill before the next train was due to arrive so most of us headed out of the station in search of some food. I filled my stomach with some sort of mexican food, chimichangas I think, that left me feeling a bit sick after. Then back to the station we headed, to wait and wait.  I talked to several people in the station; more delayed people trying to catch a train out; and a boy (who was with his parents) who tried to make conversation with my by asking what was the coolest place I'd ever been to. I couldn't tell if he was flirting or not. I also talked to a young guy who had hiked in to the base city below Machu Picchu instead of taking the train like we had and how it was the worse hike of his life and how in some places they were walking on train tracks where all the ground had washed away underneath and there were just kind of hanging there. After he finished complaining about the awful hike in, he complained about how his travel agent was going to arrange for tickets and a tour of Machu Picchu and train tickets for getting back out of there, but had done nothing. The travel agent and just kind of deserted him, and he had been trying to call the agent with no luck and now he was trying to get on train with a ticket he had bought himself. But like us, he was having a hard time getting a train since they were all so full booked. He complained about that too. It was rather a shame that he complained so much, because he was cute and it totally ruined his cuteness. I wished him luck and left him to his misery. Although I was tired, this was rather an adventure and and complaining about our situation wouldn't do anything for us at all. So I prayed that God would work everything out for us.

Time seemed to blur together. First we would hear that a train was coming, and then it wasn't coming. Finally another train did come. Again we quickly grabbed our belongings and waited by the doors. This time there was room for four, and four people rushed forward. But then we were told that  no, there was only one seat. A middle aged mother who was here by herself with our group was pushed towards the train by Carol. I felt really bad for her. She would now have to travel alone on the train plus on the other side she would have to find a van, though she could not speak Spanish, alone in the dark in a foreign country and wait there for the rest of us to arrive. No I didn't envy her one bit.

So the ten of us still left sat back down. I talked a bit and paced a bit. By this time we had been sitting in the train station for almost nine hours. I was past the point of feeling desperate for a ride, but I worried what we would do if never caught a train out. Our plane flew out of Cuzco the next day and we couldn't miss that either. I laid down on a hard bench and tried to sleep. I had lost track of how many trains we had tried to get on by this point and in my half stupor it seems that every loud sound was another train coming, but no, no trains.

All of a sudden people were yelling at me to get up, instantly awake I grabbed my pack and ran after our group running out to the train which was the second to last train of the night. Thank God, there was room! Breathlessly relieved we piled on and found seats where we could. As I was sitting down I realized I still had Carol's jacket in my hands. She had kindly lent it to me to use as a pillow. I jumped up to give it back to her. The train was cooler than the unairconditioned station and she might need it. But as I scanned the train car, I did not see her. Then I saw my aunt standing near the shut door of the train car and Carol was still outside on the platform, the only one of the group that had not gotten on. The train was just getting ready to pull out. Apparently there had been room on the train for only 9 people and the 10th member of our group was not allowed on. It was such a shame that all of us could go but one, it just didn't seem right. The car attendants opened the door and my aunt pushed the coat through the door down to Carol standing on the platform. Then a train station employee outside rushed over and then somehow Carol was on the train, and everyone was cheering and clapping. I found out later that the station employee told the train car people they absolutely must let Carol on because she needed to be with her group regardless of the fact that there were no seats for her and that it was against the rules. With relief we all thanked God! My uncle sat on the floor on a jacket and Carol took his seat and the train was off. I woke up when the train stopped at the other end and we stumbled up the hill towards the taxi vans. We found the dear lady who had gone on ahead by herself at a van she had reserved for us. I was thankful for my father's shoulder to lean on, but I slept fitfully on the return van ride to the hotel along the curvy road and I could hear Carol speaking in quiet Spanish tones to our driver most of the way home. I found out later she had been witnessing to him.

So finally after our 9 hour wait at the train station, the train ride, and the taxi van ride we were back at our hotel. I had never been so happy to get to a hotel in my entire life, especially one with a dying cow toilet. I crawled into bed, knowing I had to wake up in about 1 and 1/2 hours to leave for the airport the next morning, or rather later on that same morning. But hey, it's stuff like this that the best memories are made of.  And it was April Fools Day, maybe that had something to do with it.  =)