CHILE: Just popping in…

When I crossed the border the 25th of October, my eyes spotted only a few seconds later I had entered a much more developed country. The roads were transforming into asphalt, they had lines painted on them and along the road the long lost traffic signs reappeared.

I have to inform you that my Chile adventure will just consist of visiting 1 little town San Pedro de Atacama during only 5-6 days. Entering the driest place on earth, the first day was just relaxing and recovering from the stunning scenery of Bolivia. I ate well, did some laundry and performed the other usual things you do on a boring but necessary day.

The following day I walked around trying to find an activity to do (preferably one that I hadn´t done before) and there I saw something I already wanted to do a month ago in Nazca (Peru): sandboarding. It would have cost me 15 euro to go sandboarding with a guide or 7.5 euro to go do it on my own. Knowing me, you probably can guess what option I took... Receiving a little map to bike to the Valle de la Muerte (which hasn´t stolen its name) and carrying the sandboard (=snowboard) on my back, I departed with much expectations to the hopefully very steep sand dunes where I would ride sand at the speed of sound. After serious climbing, I arrived there and in the beginning had the total landscape for myself. Riding down the different sand mountains was a great experience apart from the afterwards 4 manifested “minor” complications: my camera didn´t function anymore (sand had crawled between the lens), my lips were burnt completely (see Kurt, what happens if I don’t wear lip balsam and don´t look like a milk drinking idiot), I had a small sunstroke and my bowels were acting like they were playing drums.

So as you will notice on the slideshow of Chile, it doesn´t include many pictures. Please don´t panic (!) as I will buy a new camera as soon as I leave this little town. Temporarily I bought an old camera (still with film in roll form) for the 3 remaining days in Chile (27/10-29/10). Those probably crappy pictures that it will have made, will be put online as soon as they are developed in Belgium (correction: they have been developed in Argentina; I repeat they have been developed! and yes they are crappy).

The 3 remaining days I did almost absolutely nothing (visited the local handicraft market located out of town which is the only place where Chilean people still manufacture the art crafts themselves; the other shops just import cheaper stuff from Peru and Bolivia), let my abdomen rest (Argentina is coming and then there can be absolutely nothing wrong with it!), ate cornflakes with milk for 3 days and saved some money.

However, what I definitely could not neglect to do, is go on a star tour as Chili is one of the best places to spot those large spheres of gas (no pollution, no lights and during the time I have been here I haven´t spotted one cloud in the sky!). The 28th at night (22u30-01u00) I was picked up by a bus and headed for a small observatory station owned by a comic French astronomer. There I saw a dozen of large telescopes and was shown several constellations (Southern Cross, Orion, Aries …), clusters of stars in the far distance (extremely impressive), the planet of Jupiter and the bright crescent. Just for the record, the moon here is seen as a smiley and not a C (because of the position of moon and sun seen from the southern hemisphere). It was so beautiful. The stars and constellations you see in the southern hemisphere are totally different from the ones you see in the northern hemisphere (no polar star, small bear, great bear …). The biggest star you are able to observe (I forgot the name sorry….) has emitted its light in the year 1600. Impressive, no??

Anyway, I have decided to go south through Argentina and not through Chile as there is much more to see (and eat) over there so tomorrow I will leave Chile and go to Salta, Argentina (where I hopefully can buy a digital camera to take beautiful photographs again)

So long
Sandboarding star observer Clint

BOLIVIA (II): Surrealism can be real!!!

Friends,


Continuing my journey to the south, this time it started with a super bus trip from La Paz to Sucre. Jihaaaaaa at last... For once I was able to sleep continuously for seven hours thanks to the large isolated seat/bed I had been given. The cost was a little bit higher but I think I earned the comfort for once. On Sunday morning I arrived at 6u00 in Sucre (the constitutional capital of Bolivia), and the city almost seemed a ghost town. No living souls to observe on the deserted streets, I went straight to my foreseen hostel where the guy at the front desk almost looked like him too was part of the undead. After one day of searching for things to do, I concluded there was not so much to do in this city (unless you are in a big group and came here to party). I already wanted to leave on Monday for Potosi but got information that the miners over there were striking and so there were no buses driving that day. I decided not to sit around doing nothing but to visit the Carl Orko Mountain. This is a mountain where tracks of 3 types of dinosaurs are discovered (the huge ones with the long necks, some boring other plant eater and the carnosaurus (picture)). Waiting at the plaza for the cheesy “dinotruck” to bring me those 7 km out of the centre, I was approached by some Bolivian college student for a “conversation” but as I didn’t bite, she left and 10 minutes later my transport arrived. Being driven to the outskirts of Sucre which almost seem like one big bus cemetery, I arrived at Parque Cretacico (located next to the mountain) and saw the little footprints of the 3 types in the far distance. These tracks date from 90 million years ago and look amazingly well preserved. Luckily because there were blue collar workers excavating the ground down below for the nearby cement factory, I could see the comparison between a human being and the tracks and then realized the tracks were not so little anymore.


The next morning (20/10) I left for Potosi which is by the way the highest city in the world and famous for the discovery of huge amounts of silver in mountain Cerro Rico in the early 1600s. (When Spanish call somebody a “potosi” it means that person is extremely rich). In the afternoon I visited the Casa Nacional de moneda what used to be a mint production factory for Spain´s coins. There we heard the story of a ship, that carried 24 tons of silver coins, sunk around 1700 and was discovered again in 1976 by American treasure hunters. Finders keepers of course but generous as they were they gave the museum of Potosi 1 silver coin...



The 21st I booked a mine tour of which I didn´t know it was going to be that interesting. After a proper introduction with our guide, who was by the way an ex-miner, we first went to get all our proper equipment: clothes, helmet and lamp. Afterwards we went to the miners market to buy gifts for the miners: the usual stuff like sodas, coca leaves and alcohol (96%) but startlingly also the highly explosive dynamite!! The dynamite package (2€) consisted of a TNT bar (picture), a detonator with fuse and ammonium nitrate to intensify the blast. There I was running around on the market carrying dynamite in my pocket: How cool is that?! It is incredible that you can just buy dynamite on the street like you buy a snicker bar. After this thrilling surprise, we visited a refinery of minerals: this was a (medieval) plant where the unrefined minerals found by the miners first are crushed whereafter chemicals are added so that the minerals finally are floating on top of the fluid and the waste sinks to the bottom.
To complete the tour we went to the mine of Cerro rico (Sumaq Urcu in Quechua), the famous silver mountain where still a lot of silver is found (next to tin, led, cupper, iron etc...)!! The Spanish took the purest and largest amount though. Entering the mines (300 meter far) until no daylight was to be spotted anymore, we went even to -4 (30 meter deep) where the circumstances were almost inhuman.
Crawling through tiny little holes you could not think about what would happen if the mountain collapsed. At -4 there was only 1 miner working, making holes for putting the dynamite bars in. It was terrible to see him work in those circumstances. I asked him if he liked his job and he gave me the strangest answer: yes, because I have three children to feed... If it is some kind of comfort, everything the miners find, they get to keep for themselves and can sell it to the refineries (they only have to pay 15% tax to the Bolivian state). So, if this is true it is still somewhat acceptable (for us probably not really though ... ). The circumstances as I said were awful: extremely dusty and hot and for our own sakes we were recommended to put a wet bandana in front of our nose and mouth as not to inhale the dust and possible poisonous gases. At one point we arrived at a railway where a cart with minerals was standing (200 kg heavy). The guide asked for a volunteer to push it together with 3 miners and stupid old me took the job upon myself. Because of the effort (at high altitude) I could not keep my bandana on (desperately needed oxygen) and probably inhaled all kind of toxic gases. After 2 hours we saw daylight again and it never felt so good to be in open air again. The adventure hadn´t come to an end though; the guide still had kept 2 dynamite packages as spare and for us to blow up. He made the package (TNT together with ammonium nitrate and the detonator in the mixture), then ignited the fuse and we had 1 minute to hold it, take pictures and give it back to him. He ran 100 m further, placed the bomb and ran back. We waited, waited .....until suddenly boom boom boom. Standing at 100m away from the blasts, all three explosions (1 of another group) nevertheless went straight to our hearts.
Arriving at the hostel that evening I was sitting on the internet at 18u thinking that the lonesome miner at -4 was still inside the mine working and risking his life, and this day after day until he highly likely will die of silicosis at the age of 50. I felt sad for him but also felt lucky I was not standing in his shoes. I guess life is just not fair.

However, as life and my trip continues, I took the bus to Uyuni the next day and booked a 3-day salt flats tour for the 23rd to start:

This time my group consisted out of 4 Japanese people and 1 Australian (nagging incompetent) girl. We all started off at Uyuni and drove somewhat south to visit the cemetery of trains. Here old steam locomotives were lying rusting in the dry desert (possible?). They used to transport lots of minerals from Bolivia to Chile but because of the cheaper truck transport it does not happen that frequent anymore. As it is apparently a local custom of leaving trash on the roads in bolivia, they probably said let´s also do it with huge steam wagons. After this slow beginning of the trip it went on to a little pueblo called Colchani where the salt of the salt flats is processed in an again outdated manner. Shortly after, the time had come to enter the blinding stretched out flat salty surfaces of Bolivia. A long time ago this used to be a lake but is now completely dried up (see Lake titicaca blog Peru parte II). Seeing nothing but a white colour surrounding us, it was time to take the famous optical illusion photographs. On the first stop I tried to be as inventive as possible together with the crazy Japanese persons (the boring Australian didn´t give any input at all). The execution by her (she was taking my pictures) left much to be desired. How hard can it goddamn be to take a good picture? On the second stop (not planned but the jeep broke down --> yes now I can redo my pictures!) we could do it over again and now I asked a Japanese guy to take them. They were much better (not perfect however) and after 2 hours in the blistering sun and in a temp of 10C, the fuel filter was cleaned out and we could continue our road trip to Isla del Pescado, an island with lots of giant cactuses. Because we were in delay, we were granted only 40 minutes on this island to climb it and project the stunning images onto our retinas. Crossing the altiplano desert with our 4-weel drive vehicle we arrived at the beautiful salt hotel in San juan, where everything was made out of salt (walls, roof, beds, tables seats,...). That night we had good diner, some wine and lots of fun. In the morning we left to see all sort of lagoons where flamingos were wandering (from a distance it looked like they were floating on the little lakes). After 4 little lagoons (and stones in the form of a tree) we arrived at the upper lagoon: laguna Colorado. At this red coloured lake (which is by the way running for one of the seven world wonders), we were planning to stay for the night. Arriving at 4 o’clock we had some time to walk around and we decided to go to the mirador point 1km further away. The amount of wind was unbearable and made me sprint for the mirador and eventually back. The views of flamingos flying over the lake and sun setting were excellent. At night it was freezing (-8C) and of course it had to be that night where poor me was suffering from the chicken I ate that day. 2 times I had to leave my bed for the ancient toilet they had in the back. I would like to sketch you the image of a guy running to a toilet at -8C without being able to flush it because the water outside was frozen (gross!). Next morning, we got up at 4u30, watched sunrise, geysers and headed for the agua thermales. The guide told the group (except me) the previous night to bring the swimsuit that morning, but since I didn´t receive any information from the guide nor from the group, I couldn´t bade in the hot springs. Stubborn I was, I climbed the nearby mountain didn’t have breakfast and was angry at the whole group. Carrying my headphones in the jeep we passed by the most beautiful lagoon of them all: Laguna verde. The scenery was surreal and pictures now had to be taken with autotimer. Finally we crossed the Bolivean-Chilean border and headed for San Pedro de Atacama (where my machete again was tolerated or missed by the Chilean authorities).

Now I probably won´t stay that long in Chile and thus my next post might appear sooner than you expect.

Cold greetings
Obsessive happy-not-to-be-a-miner illusion photographer Clint

P.S. I want to apologize for the imperfection of my pictures due to the incompetence of the Australian girl and my camera (black dots and sometimes iussues with focussing).

BOLIVIA (I): Stay young and invincible!

This is probably one of the best advices I can give you if you fully want to enjoy a trip to Bolivia …

It all started however with a fatiguing and frustrating bus ride from Cusco to La Paz. Arriving at the bus station in Cusco at 22u30, I noticed that my seat was booked twice. I started complaining and arguing about it but if I wanted to catch that particular bus for La Paz arguing wouldn´t make a difference. So finally I had to go sit in front together with the drivers where it was freezing like hell (the little blanket they gave me was only a salve on the wound). On top of that the driver told me I couldn´t sleep that night and had to watch traffic… yeah right, like that´s gonna happen. And as if thát was not enough, we arrived at 8u at the Peruvian-Bolivian border where I had to wait 2 hours in line just to get a simple stamp. So arriving at La Paz (amazing view over the city though) completely exhausted after the 15 hr ride, I took a relaxed day off ( :-) ) and had extensive meals to boost back up my energy.

Recharged the 7th of October, I probably visited the last archeological site on my journey: Tiwanaku. This is a site aging more than 2000 years ago and of which scientists say that the local people were far more advanced in engineering (hydraulics) than in Europe that period. Here you can witness the famous monolithically Puerta del Sol that represents an agrarian calendar (they already had 365 days in a year; Julian calendar dates back from 46 BC). Some might say this site is not worth visiting but do not agree with them! It is true you don`t see any big impressive buildings, but it is the history and mystery that you should consider appreciating. It is surprising to observe that even now (2009) people are still digging up temples and pyramids without knowing if there is gold or if there are tombs lying underneath them. I believe that within 10 years (after everything has been dug up) this place will be as beautiful and special as Machupicchu (maybe a little less) and that the little restaurant located next to it will become a goldmine.

After all this history the last couple of weeks, I decided it was time for some pure adrenaline action and the 8^th of October 2009 will always be carved in my memory as the day I cycled the most dangerous road all around the world. This road descends 3400 m from La Paz to Coroica where the climate changes from a dry cold Altiplano (15C) to a hot humid rainforest climate (35C). After being scared off by the guide with his interesting fatality stories that occurred the last few years and in order to slide down the mountain in one piece, I had to concentrate to the fullest and not to think of the 600 m steep cliffs that were leering around each turn. At the end I made a stupid rookie mistake and was almost falling down on the big rocks sticking out of the dirt road (luckily this was not at a steep cliff passage)... Arriving at the valley with agonizing pain in my hands and blisters because of the ultra frequent shocking, we had a shower, had buffet for lunch and went back up with the van the same way we came down. Seeing which track we had taken, it was much more scaring to see now how it looked than when we were going downhill (you just don´t realize it facing death when you´re focusing that hard). I would recommend every daredevil not to let this death road adventure pass him by when visiting Bolivia.

The next day I explored the city at ease and visited the Coca Museum. Here I learned something more about the history of the coca leaves. These leaves used to be of much importance to the local people for spiritual gatherings (for some old people they still are). When the Spanish conquered South America the church declared the leave demonical until it turned out to be a very good substance for letting the local people work harder, longer and faster. Suddenly the church (for some strange inexplicable reason) changed its mind and approved of the “drug”. You see how important principles were for the church at that time (:-/). Besides the history I was of course also interested in the production of cocaine from the coca leaves. In short it takes about 1200 kg of coca leaves (damn; those are a lot of leaves!), some chemicals (among them gasoline!) and some knowledge of chemistry to make 1 kg of pure cocaine.

The 10^th, there it was: the moment I had been waiting for for such a long time. It was time to go to the JUNGLE! I took a 20 hour bus drive from the capital to the little jungle town called Rurrenabaque. The ride was just as dangerous as the bicycle road but the only difference now was my life was in the driver´s hands. Driving on a road as small as the bus next to steep cliffs was a terrifying moment sometimes (a French girl I met didn’t want to get back with the bus anymore and took the plane back). The views I had on the way were magnificent and worth the risk though. Arriving in Rurrenabaque the 11^th, I booked a 3-day pampas trip that had a program to die for:

The first day we jumped in an “Indiana Jones” jeep and headed on the way to the Yacuma river. In this muddy river our motorboat was lying; ready to guide us through the pampas habitat. On the way to our lodge, we saw a varied kind of wildlife. We saw all kinds of birds (e.g. Toucan), capybaras (largest living rodent in the world), monkeys, turtles, black and white crocodiles (the black ones with the yellow eyes intrigued me the most) and even a dead anaconda floating on the river. Sitting on the boat I heard all the other team members of my group (among them the American couple Evan and Kelly) speaking of this trip to be an ECO-friendly trip so no touching of animals was allowed. Hearing this and remembering all the cool pictures I saw of people touching the wildlife, I got a bit frustrated that the company I booked with didn´t bring that up. I tried to move forward and not let it get to me. At night we took the boat and sailed the river without the engine on so we could not only see but also hear what was happening that misty obscure night. Our bright lights were reflecting on all the crocodiles´ eyes (their eyes glittered like glass) and we saw them watching us and spying on us (those creepy dragon looking reptiles).

The next morning we searched for anacondas through high dense grass for 4 hours but didn´t get to see any live ones. I only got to see a dead snake (already dead for at least a week) and I like to think it got into a huge fight with a crocodile and lost (highly unlikely but just give me this thought guys). I started to become paranoid and thought that our guide with his strong principles walked us to the wrong places deliberately as not to disturb any animals. This feeling became stronger as we went to search for pink dolphins in the afternoon to swim with them but again none were to be found. Pfff I started getting desperate… At night we watched the sun setting in the pampas with a couple of beers and good conversations and for a minute it made me forget the need to perform (to have to see what I had paid for) in those 3 days.

The third day we got up at 5u30 in the morning to watch the sunrise and to go fishing afterwards. However we didn´t use worms for bait as you normally do but we hung up cow meat on our fishing hooks. You heard it right, the fish we were hunting were no ordinary fish but ferocious meat eating piranhas. After 5 minutes I already caught one and 7 more of these greedy voracious little bastards were to follow. The last one was the biggest and most beautiful (yellow coloured).

In the afternoon we took another attempt of spotting pink dolphins and we got lucky this time. We even took a swim in the river but only for a short moment because the water is completely troubled and as for all we know there could be crocodiles lying underneath our feet. Returning back to the jeep, I concluded that it was a successful 3-day pampas tour. I will have to go back sometime though to spot anacondas but for now the dead one will just have to do.

To get to La Paz I took for the second time the 20 hour bus back and arrived there tiredly the 16^th at 6u in the morning. This evening I will take the probably again exhilarating bus ride to Sucre.

Ciao

Paranoid anaconda searcher Clint

P.S. Since I feel that some (some!!) people are or to shy, lazy, uninspired or whatever to write some comments on my posts, I have hidden some song titles in this blogpost (5 Oasis songs and 1 placebo song). It is up to you to find them. I hope this will not take too much of your precious time.

PERU (II): It is (Inca) time …

Ola amigos,

the 23rd of September an 8 hour bus drive, what only feels like 2 hours anymore (power of habit), led me to the unforgettable and charming city of Puno ... NOT! Clouded in misty shades of poverty, this unattractive and dull city is located at the sapphire blue waters of the mystical Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world (3800 m). Soon (time is relative), this lake will vanish as its surface decreases by 1 cm every 50 years and eventually will turn into the same geological formation as the (still to be visited) salt flats of Bolivia. Now that it still exists ( :-) ) I had to sail this inland sea and had to visit the floating Uros islands combined with the island Taquile. Sailing at 6u00 in the morning on Lago Titicaca at a temperature of 10 degrees Celcius, one could try to look for heat or in the form of body heat or in my case solar energy. After an hour "boating", I embarked upon the self made islands of the Uros people. Here they still speak the original Inca language Quechua but are apparently also familiar with the song "Vamos a la playa" (euh ... where is the beach?) as they ridiculously sing this song to the tourists when these leave the islands (accompanied by a crazy childish little dance). This performance is not only hilarious but even humiliating and I wonder if their ancestors would turn in their graves. At that place, our guide explained the construction of such an island (using roots and dirt as foundation and reeds as cover) and I only realized being on one when the waves created by passing boats caused the island to move in a sinusoidal way. After having shot the usual amount of pictures (among others one of a photovoltaic solar panel installed on a reed roof of a reed house on lake Titicaca in Peru, South America on planet earth in our solar system of the milky way of the observable universe and next to Clint), we left to Taquile island (3 hours boat ride) where Inca terracing is visible, we had an amazing view over the lake and where we had trout for lunch. Returning to Puno seeing the sunbeams reflecting on the triangle shaped little waves of the lake and the sun eventually setting, one would start to lose himself.

Another long ride ahead the 25th, I started feeling more and more nervous as Peru´s highlight was coming near. At 14u00 I sat foot on the ancient Inca capital of Cusco.

In short the Inca Empire dated from about 1200 to 1500 AC and geographically reached from Ecuador to southern Chili. It was conquered by the Spanish around 1530 mainly because there was already a war going on between the Inca’s themselves, which had weakened them significantly (two dogs fight for a bone, and a third runs away with it). Arriving in Cusco I met a really friendly Brazilian guy Berrardo and hung out with him for a couple of days. He even gave me a Ronaldinho t-shirt as a gift and I had only but to give him my Flemish squash federation t-shirt (he was happy with it though; what´s the cliché again ¿ it´s the thought that counts?). The 26nd we explored the city, visited the Inca museum (and pre-Inca) and saw the famous 12 angled rock near Plaza de Armas. The precision by which these massive stones are carved out is remarkable. As you can see on the picture all the rocks fit like a glove (no mortar is used!) and it is difficult to find a rock where you can put even the smallest tool in between.

In our hostel the next day I played some pool 2 against 2 with a Swedish girl as my partner. With my unseen charms I was able to make her so angry that she gave me the finger a few times and almost hit me with her cue. I said I was just joking but apparently she didn´t share my sense of humour (not many women do). Whatever ... one day one will.

Monday the 28th I wanted to go to Sacsayhuaman, a ruin not far away from Cusco´s centre (walking distance of 15 minutes). After a steep climb through the cobbled streets of Cusco, which literally takes your breath away because of the high altitude, I arrived at the site staggered by the fact that you can only buy a combiticket that includes 3 other ruins. As these guys all know each other, they tried to offer me a deal (which wasn´t really a deal but a total rip-off), but I passed friendly and went back down. If you are already travelling for 3 months in these kind of countries you start getting to know how to negotiate and see what is reasonable and what´s not (aside I was going to see plenty of more ruins anyway). Stubborn as I was and a bit disappointed I hiked back down to the city. I decided to spend my money more wisely and bought a second alpaca sweater for 6 €.

The next couple of days I just chilled (met this cool American guy Scott ( nickname loader) who I might meet in Bolvia again) and was waiting with a lot of expectations for the most famous, beautiful and popular trail in the whole wide world to start on October the first: The Inca Trail!
(Maarten, it was a pity you couldn´t come as you will read in my following commentary.)
And it starts …
Thursday the first of October I was picked up at my hostel and was impatiently wondering which group would join me for the next couple of days. I was really disappointed when the typical situation manifested itself: a couple and an older guy were going to be my travelling companions. Being driven to the starting point of the trail (Piskacucho km 82) I found out that they almost paid double what I paid for this trip at which they were not at all happy about (hehe). There were also 3 porters, a cook and a guide that came along. So there were 5 of them getting paid and 4 of us paying; incredible what they only earn for 4 days hiking and dragging bags of 25 kilos.
We started hiking at 9u in the morning most of the time climbing on a small slope and only seeing ruins from a large distance (llactapata). Already here I noticed it was going to be a one man show as the older guy and the couple couldn`t keep up with me. The porters and cook however were always running the trail to get to the campsite on beforehand to set up the tents and prepare lunch or dinner (at Wayllabamba). There were always three dishes at every meal but the portions were very small.The advantage of having the older guy and couple was that they weren`t very hungry all the time so I could finish their plates also (I was really really hungry!).
The next day we got up, had breakfast (oakmeal) and hiked to the highest point of the Inca trail: dead woman`s pass (4200m). This 3 hour climb was extremely energy consuming and arriving at 14u at the campsite (Paqaymayu) a well earned lunch saved me from collapsing. That night temperatures were dropping below zero and even sleeping in all my clothes I brought with me + the (professional) rented sleeping bag didn`t help me from freezing every part of my body off.
The third day was only a little bit climbing, visiting the beautiful ruins of SayacMarka, and descending to the last campsite of Wiñay Wayna. The descend was extremely steep and I have no doubt it destroyed knees of some older people that were walking the trail (some arrived 7 hours after me). Walking a small path from the campsite and eventually seeing the Wiñay Wayna ruins I had the first goose bumps moment since the trail started as I saw the little Inca town located on a hill at twilight and almost completely deserted. At night I gave away 20 soles tip for the work of the porters (carrying our tents, food, cooking material, chairs, tables …) but I only brought 23 soles(6 euro) with me so I didn`t have any money more to bank on.
The final day we got up at 4u30, hiked 5 minutes to the checkpoint (that only opens at 5u30) and waited anxiously for the gates to open. I was the first one there and as soon the portal opened I ran to be the first to arrive at Inti Punku also known as the sun gate and entrance to the ancient city of MachuPicchu. From Inti Punku, you normally can see MachuPicchu lying in the bottom distance (1 hour walk away). It was 7u in the morning, still somewhat dark and the clouds were still covering the flanks of the mountains (visibility rating was zero). I started panicking and cursing, thinking to myself is this why I did all the effort just to see not a darn thing? Grumbling I walked down but suddenly slowly I saw the clouds disappear and revealing the lost city surrounded by mountains. I don`t know what went through my mind at that particular moment (happiness, relief, astonishment, self satisfaction …) but it certainly blew me away. The reward for 3 days of suffering lied at my feet and I started running to be the first there. This was not possible however as the entrance for daily tourists already opens at 6u. They should open it first for the people of the Inca trail. Still, at that moment nothing could take away my sense of joy.
I walked upon this world wonder informed about the history by our guide and covered in mosquitoes (there were millions of them) until 12 in the afternoon and had not a penny left (3 soles I used for luggage store at Machupicchu which is obliged). I had to live of boiled water of the day before and wasn`t able to buy the slightest amount of food. Now I understood what it was, living without money. My train only departed at 16u and I waited starving to death until I arrived at 21u in my hostel. I ran upstairs, got my money and sprinted to the nearby pollo brasa restaurant and ate like a savage. I adore food…… …….

Tonight the 5th of October I am taking the 12hr lasting night bus to La Paz, Bolivia and will swap my Peruvian adventure for a Bolivian one

Adios
Pennyless Inca Clint