The ruins were so incredible, they just went on and on. Around every corner in the mountain there was another part of the ruins. The landscape is absolutely breathtaking.
Just to walk around the ruins took over 3 hours...a lot of hiking involved. And oh my gosh, this Andean sun is strong! In the day time it's about 90 degrees (dry heat) but in the night it drops down to about 45. It's cold.
We met this man on the trail who sold us a bag of coca leaves (about 60 cents). We planned to use them for tea, but upon request he also gave us a lesson in Quechu (translated by our guide) on how to chew the leaves. He seemed tickled when we asked if we could take a photo of him.
At the beginning of the hike of the ruins had to stop every 10 steps to catch my breath because of the altitude. After about the second hour of hiking my pace quickened and I commented to Carmen how great it was that neither of us were seriously affected by the altitude. I figured I was fully acclimatized so I picked up the pace. I started getting a mild headache but didn't think anything of it. I kept going. The end of the trail was in sight.
My headache got progressively worse and I could barely see through the pain. We got in a taxi to head to the town of Pisac to have lunch and to see the Fiesta del Carmen festivities. By the time the taxi got to the town I had to jump out because I was terribly sick to my stomach. Our guide whisked us through the crowds to a small restaurant. We sat down and I immediately ordered a coca tea (which did not help, as it's supposed to). I had to put my head on the table. The restaurant owner, who was dressed in her traditional clothes for the festival, saw that I was not well and brought me some hot soup right away. I took two bites and that was all I could handle. She suddenly started speaking French to us...mostly to Carmen, who speaks French. Apparently the woman belongs to some French-Peruvian society that practices the language. She chattered away in French at me thinking I understood too. I caught about every other word. She asked me if I wanted to lie down...which I did, more than anything. She ushered me upstairs to her apartment and put me to bed. Carmen finished her lunch downstairs. After a couple of hours she came up to check on me. After tossing my cookies I felt much better and was able to gather enough energy to make it to a taxi. Carmen asked the taxi driver to 'Please drive slowly because my friend has a bit of a fragile stomach.' That made me laugh because it is Carmen's way to be very courteous. The true message was, 'Drive slowly or my friend will puke all over your taxi.'
By the time we arrived in Cuzco I was a lot better. I took a nap and woke up famished. Carmen, being the great friend that she is, rushed me to a restaurant and encouraged me to eat. We had a delicious dinner at a restaurant with a view to the main plaza. Our train to the town Aguas Calientes, near the base of the Machu Picchu mountain was leaving at 6 a.m. the next morning. We bundled up in our long underwear and layers and went to sleep...no heating here. Cold nights.
My headache got progressively worse and I could barely see through the pain. We got in a taxi to head to the town of Pisac to have lunch and to see the Fiesta del Carmen festivities. By the time the taxi got to the town I had to jump out because I was terribly sick to my stomach. Our guide whisked us through the crowds to a small restaurant. We sat down and I immediately ordered a coca tea (which did not help, as it's supposed to). I had to put my head on the table. The restaurant owner, who was dressed in her traditional clothes for the festival, saw that I was not well and brought me some hot soup right away. I took two bites and that was all I could handle. She suddenly started speaking French to us...mostly to Carmen, who speaks French. Apparently the woman belongs to some French-Peruvian society that practices the language. She chattered away in French at me thinking I understood too. I caught about every other word. She asked me if I wanted to lie down...which I did, more than anything. She ushered me upstairs to her apartment and put me to bed. Carmen finished her lunch downstairs. After a couple of hours she came up to check on me. After tossing my cookies I felt much better and was able to gather enough energy to make it to a taxi. Carmen asked the taxi driver to 'Please drive slowly because my friend has a bit of a fragile stomach.' That made me laugh because it is Carmen's way to be very courteous. The true message was, 'Drive slowly or my friend will puke all over your taxi.'
By the time we arrived in Cuzco I was a lot better. I took a nap and woke up famished. Carmen, being the great friend that she is, rushed me to a restaurant and encouraged me to eat. We had a delicious dinner at a restaurant with a view to the main plaza. Our train to the town Aguas Calientes, near the base of the Machu Picchu mountain was leaving at 6 a.m. the next morning. We bundled up in our long underwear and layers and went to sleep...no heating here. Cold nights.
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