So here’s the story as we know it. We left Ollantaytambo on schedule at 9:15 this morning aboard a quaint little Peruvian train bound for Machu Picchu. The trains move slowly and on a single track excepting for a few switch locations to enable passing. (Keep this nugget in your memories for later. It matters.) Our tour of 20 people has joined together with another 52 onboard, so we are a United Nations of souls all with the same goal: see the palace of the Incas before we depart to the glaciers in the sky.
And we almost made it.
About two miles outside of the train station at Aguas Calientes, the train ground to an unscheduled stop. After about fifteen minutes the announcement came. There was a landslide on the tracks just ahead of us and some “debris” needed to be cleared. Well, that debris has now become a boulder that requires heavy machinery to both move and...wait for it...explode. There was no question that we would have to reverse course to allow the machinery and explosives through but...it seems that there was another landslide behind us and we couldn’t reverse course until the machinery cleared that mess. Two and a half hours after we first came to a halt, we just saw the heavy lifters and (ack) explosives pass us by. We are all now taking bets as to whether or not we will make the site today. I should say that the train company and the tour company have been exceptional and keeping us comfortable and apprised of any changes. Most of our travelling companions have been great sports but there is always an asshole or two in every bunch.
While we wait, I thought that maybe I might tell you about some of the people we have suddenly become quite close to. There is the lovely couple from Glasgow with whom we seem to have been paired often on this tour. He is a boisterous chap and is probably the only non-scotch drinking Scot we have ever met. The Husband expressed his great disappointment. She is quieter but I swear that she is a doppelgänger for Princess Anne.
We have been seated on the train with an Aussie couple from Sydney who is travelling with their adult daughter. The daughter is trying far to hard to look hip and has instead settled for that 80s trashy look, complete with big hair, lots of cheap jewelry, and mom jeans that don’t fit the way I think she had hoped they would. They are typical Aussies in that they take everything in its stride.
There is an Uno game going on down the aisle amongst the Wisconsinites while the German couple behind me is struggling to converse with a few southerners from Georgia. We had breakfast this morning with a sweet couple from Thunder Bay who defines the word Canuck. He told us of growing up in the bush until it was time for him to start school. He is a complete character who seemed to have walked right out of an early Margaret Atwood or Margaret Laurence novel.
Several pop culture references have entered my mind as we are now entering hour three sitting on this train. Harry Chapin’s song The Rock has certainly crossed through my psyche more than once, as has a fleeting image of Hercule Poirot solving the mystery in Murder on the Orient Express. Here’s hoping this trip doesn’t meet a similar fate.
I should say that the scenery is quite breathtaking. We are in the outer edge of the Amazon rainforest in a place the locals call the cloud forest. We have seen wild orchids right beside the tracks and several lovely but unidentifiable birds. It has rained off and on all day as this is totally expected for this time of year. With any luck and the grace of TNT, we will still be able to see the jewel of the Incan empire today.
Travel stories aren’t always perfect. Going with the flow is part of the game.
Keep you all posted.
Four hours, a few blasting caps, and a terrifying bus ride up the mountains later, we have arrived. It is pouring rain and nobody cares at all. I have to say that this is one of the most amiable groups of people I have ever had the privilege to tour with. Really! A few grumbles but otherwise just feeling blessed to be here. A few thoughts about the ruins later.
Machu Pichu almost defies description. It was almost worth four hours on a stalled train in the middle of a landslide. We spent almost three hours in the pouring rain climbing through the old Incan palace and I can honestly say that I didn't feel wet. (Note to Twin Son and His Better Half: If you are reading this, Iceland was worse!) The rain created an almost mystic quality and it felt like we were doing what the Incas had hoped we would; worship the life-giving properties of the heavens. We have an early rise to return tomorrow and hopefully, a bit of sunshine will peek through to give us a different view of this unbelievable wonder.
As an addendum to this post. Apparently, Robert DeNiro was on the train stuck behind us and all of the local news was filled with stories about he almost didn't get to tour the ruins. It is more than likely he will be back tomorrow morning. If we run into him, I'll grab a photo.
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| Machu Pichu in the rain and mist |
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