Our first solo international adventure: Machu
Picchu!
The Adventurers:
Colin Dunham and Rachel Davenport
The Plan:
1. Don't die.
2. Don't get robbed.
3. Don't get scammed, swindled, conned, or otherwise cheated out of
money.
4. See Machu Picchu.
5. Make it back to the airport in time for our flight.
The Preparation:
As far as preparation goes, we bought our plane tickets to Arica (in
northern Chile) a week and a half in advance, and the choosing of the dates
went something like this:
"How about this one? It's the cheapest."
"Ohh, we have a final exam that day. What about the next?"
"Ok, yeah sure. When should we come back?"
"Well, it's usually cheaper to fly in the middle of the week."
"So Wednesday?"
"I hope that's enough time..."
"Me too. Let's do it."
And besides that very well-thought-out flight planning, we knew the names of
the towns we'd probably have to take buses to to finally get to Machu Picchu.
Period.
And so we set off.
The Adventure:
Thursday, July 5th
Colin and I packed our bags and met at the bus station to catch a bus to
Santiago. This was probably the least scary part of our trip, as it was the
only part we'd done before. After a two hour bus ride and a shuttle to the
airport, we checked our bags and settled in at our gate to wait. I pulled out
my handy-dandy book of brain games (which my awesome mom sent me for my
birthday!), and we got so lost in solving them that we didn't notice that they
changed the gate for our flight and we almost missed it! Other than that, our flights
to Arica were peacefully uneventful.
When we did finally get to Arica at 11-something at night, a nice man named
Raul told us he was the last taxi left for the night, so we let him take us to
the bus station. He told us all about Arica and lamented the fact that we
didn't have more time to spend exploring it. He gave us his card for the return
trip and dropped us off outside the bus station. And thus began the scariest
part of our trip.
We stepped out of the taxi and toward the outdoor part of a now-closed bus
station, in the middle of the night, filled with people milling about an
assortment of cars and tiny ticket windows. Before we even stepped through the
gate someone waiting there asked, "Tacna?" (the next step in our
journey, a town just across the border in Peru). So I said yes and he whisked
us off to the nearest little booth and told us to buy the 50 cent tickets they
were selling. I have since come to find out that it was essentially a fee for
using the bus station, called a
tiqueta de embarque, but it was
pretty confusing at the time. Then he ran over to what appeared to be his own
car, took our bags and put them in his trunk, and asked for our passports. All
the while, I'm starting to regret following him and wondering if there are any
less-sketchy options available. But I handed him my passport anyway. Colin,
however, was so hesitant to let it out of his possession that his actually fell
on the ground as he was handing it over. Heightening our nervousness, he told
us to "just get in the car" and ran across the dirt parking lot to
another window. Needless to say, Colin and I did not get in the car, but rather
watched nervously as our passports disappeared out of sight. He did eventually
come back with them, and as far as I know our identities have not been stolen,
so I think we survived breaking the cardinal rule of international travel:
Never
let your passport out of your sight! And the guy was nice enough, he helped
us figure out what to do as we crossed the border in the middle of the night,
and when we finally got to Tacna at 1am and everything was dark and scary and
foreign, he drove us to a nice, relatively cheap hotel. Yes, you read
correctly... we were so freaked out we opted for a hotel instead of a hostel.
And it was a wonderful choice.
 |
| In our safe, warm, cozy hotel room. |
Friday, July 6th
We woke up bright and early Friday morning to take what would be
(unbeknownst to us) our last hot showers for quite a while. Then we proceeded
to wolf down our free hot breakfast since we had forgotten to eat dinner in the
confusion of the night before. We took a taxi back to the bus station (which
was very slightly less intimidating in daylight), and bought bus tickets from
the first guy who yelled "Arequipa!" and gave us a "reduced"
price. Still convinced we were going to be robbed, Colin ventured one picture
as we waited in the bus station.
 |
| Tacna bus station |
On our first double-decker bus, we sat in the front row on the top floor:
right in front of a giant windshield. We were excited to get to watch the
south-Peruvian landscape go by on our seven-hour journey. This is what we saw:
Sand, sand, and more sand.
Fog, fog, and more fog.
When we weren't driving on the road so straight it looked like it would take
us right over the horizon, we were whipping around tight curves in a thick fog,
taking up a lane and a half, and narrowly avoiding semi trucks trying to do the
same.
We did pass a few patches of green along the way, and of course that's where
little towns had sprung up.
Despite the less-than-captivating landscape, we did have a mostly enjoyable
ride. We were only stopped once to take all the passengers and luggage out at a
drug checkpoint, and lucked out in the seatmate category. We ended up with
Michael and Susanne, a lovely couple from England who for their fifth wedding
anniversary quit their jobs to take a year off and travel the world. This trip
was toward the end of their three months in South America, but they still have
New Zealand, Australia, Thailand, and India to go before they head home. We
shared jokes and stories and memories and plans with them for many of the seven
hours we spent on that bus, and we are very grateful we had them there to help
us pass the time.
When we did finally make it to Arequipa, we looked for the Oltursa counter
(a
great recommendation from our good friend Ronald), and bought tickets
for the next bus to Cusco. While we waited, we bought a delicious and
long-overdue lunch, which we ate for about $1.60 each. (Turns out we should
have studied in Peru!) A few hours later, we loaded up once more, on a much
nicer bus this time, and settled in for a 10-hour bus ride. They even served us
dinner and played us a movie as we fell asleep.
Saturday, July 7th
Want to know the best way to travel? Go to sleep in Arequipa and wake up in
Cusco. Granted, I do sleep rather better in an actual bed, and a shower would
have been nice, but I'm not complaining. We saved whatever money we would have
spent on a place to sleep, and what would have been an entire day of
bus-riding. And on top of that, when you arrive at a bus station at 6am, the
usual throng of taxi drivers and bus ticket-sellers has not arrived to accost
confused travelers yet. So that was a plus. It gave Colin and I a chance to sit
down and recover our groggy brains and try and figure out what to do next. I
couldn't actually remember the name of the next town we were supposed to go to,
and it was too small for any of the bus companies to go to, so we were kind of
at a loss. On top of that, I was still worried about being scammed by taxi
drivers or anyone else who might be able to make money off of us. We decided to
ask a nice girl working for a bus company (that for sure didn't go to this
town), what the best way to get to Machu Picchu was. She was very nice and
wrote down the next two steps for us: a taxi to Calle Pavitos, and a
carro
to Ollantaytambo. No wonder I couldn't remember the name. So we grabbed a taxi
driver and asked him to take us to Calle Pavitos.
Apparently everyone is very used to tourists trying to get to Machu Picchu,
because before the taxi even came to a complete stop, the men at Calle Pavitos
were pulling our backpacks out of the trunk and throwing them on the luggage
rack on top of a van. We asked the taxi driver as we were getting out if this
was the right way to get to Ollantaytambo, and he said yes, not looking phased
at all by the speed with which everything was happening. So we loaded up once
again and took a two hour ride through the (this time beautiful) Peruvian
countryside. We skirted mountains and valleys until we made it to the far side
of Ollantaytambo where the train station waited for us.
 |
| The view on the way to Ollantaytambo |
By this point we were getting used to walking up to counters and asking
strangers what to do, so we marched right up to the first window and asked for
the cheapest and soonest train to Aguascalientes. It was only barely 9am, so we
figured we'd have time to get there and get settled in and explore the town a
little, so we could head to Machu Picchu bright and early in the morning. Then
the man in the window said "We have no more spaces on the trains till
tomorrow.”
What.
Keep in mind step number five of The Plan: Make it back to the airport in
time for our flight. We had absolutely not planned on losing nearly an entire
day before even getting to Machu Picchu.
We must have looked sufficiently panic-stricken, because the man then
pointed out that there are a few other train companies that go to
Aguascalientes and showed us where to find them. Needless to say, we were
thoroughly relieved to find that there was ample availability on the 10:30
train with IncaRail. The hour and a half train ride through the mountains was
pleasant; we spent it looking at the scenery and chatting with a Venezuelan
couple who said we spoke Spanish very well. The only downside to the ride was
my rising fear that there would not actually be hostels in Aguascalientes and
we'd have to pay to take the train back to Ollantaytambo and then to
Aguascalientes again in the morning. This is the kind of thing that happens to
me when I don't have a plan.
 |
| Some ruins we saw on the way to Aguascalientes. Machu Picchu, here we come! |
But we arrived in Aguascalientes and there were indeed hostels, so we booked
a room in the first one we saw. (A regrettable decision, but like I said, I was
fighting a panic attack...) Once we had a place to leave our backpacks, we
wandered around Aguascalientes for a while. We looked through the
feria,
found an ATM so we could take out money, and sat down to eat lunch at a place
that offered us the "student discount:" anything on the menu for ten
dollars. After some delicious pesto pasta and lamb stew, we went back to our
hostel and prepared to face the shower.
 |
| Yes, those are electrical wires running through our water supply... |
As far as I've ever heard, the combination of water and electricity is a
bad
idea. I felt like I was going to get electrocuted just looking at it! And
if it doesn't look scary enough, vaguely remembering an explanation that
involves an electric current running through the water
right before it lands
on your head made it no less than terrifying. Regardless, after two long
days of travel, we didn't really have a choice. So Colin kindly risked his life
first, and I waited for the verdict. And the verdict was: Cold. Like,
ICE
COLD. We tried everything. We flipped every switch and turned every knob,
including (accidentally) the one that shuts off the water to our room. Defeated
and frozen, we retreated to our beds and promptly crashed for several
hours.
When the noise of extraordinarily loud music woke me, I dragged Colin out of
his bed to explore the town with me. It turned out we had just happened to
arrive the day that Machu Picchu was celebrating its 50th anniversary as one of
the New 7 Wonders of the World! So we made our way to the square to listen to
the music, and ended up dancing the night away with some Brazilian girls named
Raquel and Camila.
Sunday, July 8th
We woke up bright and early (again), and set off to fulfill a dream. We
bundled up and took a bus up the side of one of the mountains which encircle
Aguascalientes, and after about 40 minutes of switchbacks, we arrived at the
gate. Aside from being asked if we wanted a tour guide, we just showed our
tickets and were free to go.
When we rounded the corner, the only thought that would fit in my head
was "We're really here. This is real life."
Even through the clouds of the morning, the view was breathtaking.
We spent hours walking through every part of the ruins we could.
 |
| Colin's Inca-sized too! |
 |
| Look, I'm Inca-sized! |
We even met llamas!
And an interesting animal we don't know... some relative of the jackelope?
 |
| Squirrel-rabbit-mouse combo? |
After a while we decided to try out the trek to the Inca Bridge. It ended up
being only a 15 minute walk with a pretty cool view at the end.
Inspired, we set off to see the Sun Gate too. Only this was an hour long
hike. Up a mountain. In the rain. When we finally did reach the top, it was
just a few stone walls and a lot of clouds. We waited there under our tiny
umbrella for the clouds to clear and for us to catch our breath, then we took a
few pictures of Machu Picchu (which is breathtaking even from that far away,
and which did indeed make the hike worth it), and headed back down.
By that time all the fog and clouds had finally burned off, so we found
ourselves a spot and just sat down to soak in as much beauty as we could.
 |
| And of course, by "sat down" I mean "took jump pictures." |
When my legs couldn't handle any more climbing and our eyes couldn't take in
any more beauty and our stomachs couldn't go any longer without food, we headed
back to the bus to go down. In Aguascalientes, we did what any starving
American would do: we found a restaurant and ordered a family-size pepperoni
pizza. And we ate the whole thing.
We rested much easier that night knowing that we had accomplished the
second-most-important step in the plan: along with not having died (yet), we
had
seen Machu Picchu.
Monday, July 9th
The journey home was infinitely more relaxing than the initial trip since
this time we knew how long things would take, what to look for, and that each
step was indeed possible. We spent the morning on the train back to
Ollantaytambo and then got in the first van that said he was going to Cusco. At
the bus terminal, we bought our tickets for the overnight trip to Arequipa and
splurged a little, opting for the
bus cama (bed bus) instead of just the
semi-cama (semi-bed).
We had nowhere to be from 1pm to 7:30pm, so we set out to explore Cusco. We
found a decent looking chicken place and ordered the special, which turned out
to be an appetizer, chicken noodle soup, and a pork chop with rice for $2.20.
That's two dollars and twenty cents. We ordered drinks as well, and with tax
and tip thrown in, Colin and I had a three-course meal for four dollars each.
We should have studied in Peru.
After lunch, we wandered around for a while looking for the
Plaza de
Armas, the central plaza in Cusco. Along the way we ran into some ladies
decked out in their traditional garb, one with a baby slung on her back, and
the other with a lamb on a leash. My "tourist trap" radar is
apparently not very good, because all I saw was a baby lamb I wanted to pet. As
we walked by, they asked if we wanted a picture, so we took them up on it. I
handed the lady with the lamb about a dollar to thank her for the picture, and
then she stopped me from walking away and said "for her too?" The
smallest thing I had left was a coin worth two dollars, so I may or may not have
been swindled out of three dollars. But I got to pet a lamb. :)
We did end up finding the
Plaza de Armas and spent a few hours
walking around, people-watching, taking pictures, and saying "
no,
gracias" to shoe-shiners. Like, at least ten shoe-shiners told me in
broken English that my shoes were dirty. Thanks. Unfortunately I do not have a
heart of stone, so when 11-year-old Rodrigo came by and said it was for his
school, I couldn't say no anymore. We found out while he was shining my shoes
that he knows the capital of the US and our president, he learned to shine
shoes from watching other people do it, and that he wants to be a tour guide
when he grows up.
The two churches across the street from the
Plaza de Armas were
beautiful, and they had some interesting statues built into their walls.
It wasn't actually in the
Plaza de Armas, but we stumbled upon this awesome mural of Incan history while meandering around Cusco.
When the sun went down and it got too cold to be outside, we went back to
the bus station to wait. And that bed bus was worth the wait. The chairs were
huge and comfy and reclined, they fed us dinner, dessert, and tea, and they
gave us headphones for the movie. (My Name is Khan, a tear-jerker if I've ever
seen one.)
Tuesday, July 10th
If the bed bus wasn't already on my list of recommendations, it would have
made it in the morning when they turned the lights on just outside of Arequipa
so they could bring us breakfast.
 |
| Bus cama, so worth the wait. |
The bus from Arequipa to Tacna was not even comparable. We endured nearly
six hours of kids alternately screaming, crying, growling, yelling, and
singing, our only distraction being a bootleg copy of Ice Age 4 in Spanish. But
we survived and immediately hopped in a car to Arica when we got off the bus.
Thankfully, the car-across-the-border system felt significantly less sketchy
the second time, in the daylight. When we did make it back into Chile, a taxi
driver kindly took us to a hostel he knew of, and we spent a relaxed evening
walking around Arica, eating our last Chorillanas in Chile, and watching Big
Bang Theory. We finally knew we were going to achieve goal number five of The
Plan: make it back to the airport for our flight.
Wednesday, July 11th
And make it we did. We got a ride back to the airport and flew uneventfully
back to Santiago and then home.
All around, it was the trip of a lifetime, just like this whole study abroad
experience. I wouldn't trade a second of it for the world.
