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Savoring Peru: Maras Salt Flats, Moray Ruins, handicrafts and more!

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From Ollantaytambo, we drove back to Cusco, stopping at several attractions along the way.

First, we visited the Salinas de Maras, evaporation pools for mining salt high above the river valley. About 5,000 small pools line the hillsides like a haphazard patchwork quilt. Maintained by a cooperative of local families, the pools fill with spring-fed water that evaporates in the hot, dry sunshine. Workers gently scrape the salt from the sides and bottom of the pool and pile it in baskets to drain. Then they dam up the pool to fill again.

This article from The South China Morning Post includes a nice explanation:

Salt ponds are more commonly found on coastal plains, filled with seawater from the incoming tide. The ones in Peru are at an altitude of 3,000 metres. It’s a long way to the ocean, but it wasn’t always so; this impressive mountain range was once part the sea floor.
The movement of tectonic plates pushed the seabed up to form the Andes. The sea salt was locked into the rocks and filters out through the Qoripujio spring.
The Incas (early 13th century to 1572) are credited with many of Peru’s striking constructions, but these ponds were created during the Chanapata Culture (AD200 to AD900).

Berlin kept sticking her fingers in the spring to suck off the salty water, and I have to admit I nibbled on a few chunks of salt.

Seeing these people working in the pools gave me a new appreciation for artisan salt. The process hasn’t changed much in more than 1,000 years.

Our next stop in the Sacred Valley was Moray. Archaeologists speculate that the terraced concentric circles may have been used as an agricultural research laboratory. According to Atlas Obscura:

Studies have shown that many of the terraces contain soil that must have been imported from other parts of the region. The temperature at the top of the pits varies from that at the bottom by as much as 15ºC, creating a series of micro-climates that — not coincidentally — match many of the varied conditions across the Incan empire, leading to the conclusion that the rings were used as a test bed to see what crops could grow where.

We had planned to visit the town of Chinchero, but we were getting tired and hungry. We decided to skip it. Our driver noted that an Andean crafts market in the Chinchero District was on the way to Cusco. Did we want to stop there? Yes, please!

This friendly guy greeted us at the market.

Stella’s daughter, Mane, poses for a pano.

Inside, we found a collection of tables operated by families who have passed down their skills for generations. A friendly lady in stunning Andean clothing demonstrated the process of washing alpaca wool, spinning it into yarn, and dyeing it with natural pigments.

She also explained that a special red hue came from the cochineal, a parasitic insect. She smashed a dried cochineal between her fingers, releasing a bright red stain that she spread on her lips for long-lasting color. “You can even kiss your boyfriend!” she said. “It won’t come off!” Stella also applied a little bug-based lip stain.

I’m a sucker for textiles, and I enjoyed chatting with the families about their weaving techniques and symbolism in the finished pieces.

Tony and I bought a table runner from a husband and wife weaving team, and before we could stop them, they had placed the runner around my shoulders and put their own hats on our heads so we could pose for a photo.

Back in Cusco, we hung out at a café beside the Plaza de Armas for awhile. Berlin wanted a taste of michelada, a blend of beer, lime, salt, hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce. That girl is such a drama queen.

That evening, Peter babysat while the rest of us enjoyed a night on the town. We found many interesting galleries and shops lining the narrow cobblestone alleys.

Our absolutely dreamy dinner at Cicciolina was the perfect ending to this Peruvian vacation, where we found fantastic food at every stop. I’m cracking up in this photo because the waiter was nearly sitting in another diner’s lap to get the shot. You can see him reflected in the mirror behind us. Hysterical!

The next morning, we flew back to Santiago, but not before customs agents flagged Ian and Peter for additional screening. Stella thought the metal skewers Peter had brought from the States might have looked suspicious, but in fact, the 12 boxes of macaroni and cheese he had brought for his grand-daughter smacked of drug smuggling. Agents busted open one of the boxes and tested the cheesy powder before finally releasing the men for the trip home.

On the Road

Savoring Peru: Ollantaytambo

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After regrouping outside the Machu Picchu historic site, we were all ready to take a bus back down the mountain, when Ian lost his dad.

The line for the buses snaked out of sight, so Ian and Stella took the girls to the café to get a snack, but Peter was nowhere to be found. I searched for awhile in vain while Tony held my place in line. Eventually, he turned up, after enjoying a cocktail in the swanky Hiram Bingham Hotel.

We all retrieved our luggage from our hilltop hotel and met at the train station for the short journey to Ollantaytambo.

I love arriving at a destination in the dark and then waking up in the morning to see where you are. That’s what happened here.

In the mid-15th century, Ollantaytambo was conquered by Inca Emperor Pachacuti, who rebuilt the town to serve as his personal estate. Laid out in a grid with narrow crisscrossing cobblestone roads, the village remains much as it was at that time.

People still live in the original one-room homes in small walled compounds with a central courtyard. We popped in to one of the homes, where tour guides had brought visitors for a glimpse of “real” life. A couple beds were pushed up against the wall, and scores of guinea pigs ran loose, dashing under the beds to avoid the tourists’ clunky hiking boots. We assumed this painting depicted the homeowners.

Stella’s girls posed with the home’s inhabitants. After sampling quite a few guinea pigs during our trip, Stella morbidly portrayed the likely fate of those little tourist attractions.

Hanging out in the village, we watched people going about their regular business dressed in colorful Andean clothing.

This lady had a lamb in her backpack.

Some locals know a good thing when they see it, so they approach tourists for a few soles in exchange for a photo. These little guys sang for us while we ate dinner.

Of course, the real draw of Ollantaytambo is its ruins. Tony and I toured the site with a guide named Julissa. She explained that Emperor Pachacuti started construction of a massive temple on the steep hill called Cerro Bandolista. The stones came from the Chachiqata quarry across the 1,000-foot deep valley.

This “Wall of the Six Monoliths” was part of the unfinished sun temple. Each stone weighs up to 100 tons. How did they move these from the quarry? How did they cut the stones so perfectly? Nobody knows.

In addition to the temple, the site features agricultural terraces climbing up the mountainsides. Farmers grew potatoes, quinoa, corn, flowers, and medicinal plants.

In the Smithsonian article, “Farming Like the Incas,” archaeologist Ann Kendall describes the engineering genius of terracing:

The terraces leveled the planting area, but they also had several unexpected advantages, Kendall discovered. The stone retaining walls heat up during the day and slowly release that heat to the soil as temperatures plunge at night, keeping sensitive plant roots warm during the sometimes frosty nights and expanding the growing season. And the terraces are extremely efficient at conserving scarce water from rain or irrigation canals, says Kendall. “We’ve excavated terraces, for example, six months after they’ve been irrigated, and they’re still damp inside. So if you have drought, they’re the best possible mechanism.” If the soil weren’t mixed with gravel, points out Kendall, “when it rained the water would log inside, and the soil would expand and it would push out the wall.” Kendall says that the Incan terraces are even today probably the most sophisticated in the world, as they build on knowledge developed over about 11,000 years of farming in the region.

Our guide, Julissa, also showed us Incan storehouses designed for optimal air circulation. Grain was dumped in the top and collected at the bottom.

Our tour continued through a funerary sector and down to a series of canals and fountains, evidence of the ancient irrigation system.

Emperor Pachacuti mysteriously abandoned construction of his temple, but the hill served another important role after the arrival of Spanish conquistadors. In the Battle of Ollantaytambo, the head of the Inca resistance, Manco Inca, led about 30,000 men to fend off an attack by an expedition of Spaniards under the command of Hernando Pizarro. Standing at the top of the hill, looking over the valley, I wondered how Manco Inca felt about the inequity of his plight. His band of conscripted farmers, armed with machetes and other rudimentary weapons, faced soldiers who had the advantages of armor, horses, and guns.

If, like me, you want to spend hours learning more about this stuff, here’s one interesting summary about the Spanish conquest of Peru on the Heritage History website.

I still felt a little stupid for not getting a guide at Machu Picchu, but touring the Ollantaytambo ruins with Julissa made up for it.

All that walking and talking in the hot sun meant only one thing. Time for a beer break.

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Savoring Peru: Machu Picchu

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The ruins of Machu Picchu cling to the hills above the Urubamba River. Two mountain peaks feature ticketed hikes for a bird’s eye view of the famous Inca citadel. We chose to climb Montaña Machu Picchu, billed as taller but easier to summit than Huaynu Picchu. Much to Stella’s chagrin, our ticket time was 7 a.m. Ian agreed to meet us at the park with his dad and the kids around 9.

Tony and I had a vision of being the first ones in the park, so we dragged Stella down, down, down to the bus stop at 5:15 a.m. only to find the line stretching back up, up, up the hill.

The night sky gradually gave way to dawn, dashing my hopes of a Machu Picchu sunrise photo. Buses came and went, and finally we boarded one for the 30-minute ride up the winding narrow road to the historic ruins.

I had been dreaming of a guided tour since we booked this trip. I couldn’t wait to hear the stories and ask my questions. I immediately latched on to a guide at the entrance, and she told us she had two other English speakers ready to go. Fortunately, I remembered we had tickets for the mountain hike. “You need to do that first then,” the guide said. “You need to go now!”

She was right. We followed the signs to the Montaña entrance and waited in yet another line for about 15 minutes. We got a quick glimpse of the ruins before fog rolled in, which made us a little grumpy and concerned that we wouldn’t get to see the panoramic view spotlighted on every postcard.

Eventually, we reached the entrance to the mountain hike, showed our passports, signed in to a huge registration ledger, and began the trek.

We had a little giggle at this sign. “All are stairs. 2670 stairs.” It’s like they were asking, “Are you sure you want to do this? Do you REALLY understand that ALL are STAIRS?” Tony kept repeating, “All are stairs!” as we climbed up all the freakin’ stairs. And it’s not like the Incas put much effort into building this staircase with equal-sized steps, or maybe the stones have eroded in the last 500 years. The uneven surfaces, combined with sheer drop-offs and breath-sucking altitude, created quite a challenge for three out-of-shape travelers. That said, Stella reached the top about 10 minutes ahead of Tony and me. She said she used speed skating arm movements to create momentum and got in a rhythm.

For some perspective, here are some of the steps we climbed.

Our early start paid off. While there were other hikers on the trail, we rarely encountered each other on the trip up in the cool morning air. We were among the first 20 or so people to reach the summit after about an hour and a half on the Incan StairMaster.

Overlooking the UNESCO World Heritage site, the Historic Sanctuary of Machu Picchu.

My fantasy of a zip line back down the mountain didn’t materialize. We had to hike down the way we came up, which turned out to be much, much harder on our knees and exhausted quads. At one point, Stella said, “I can only step down with my left leg! It’s like my right leg is attached to someone else.”

We also had to flatten ourselves against the hillside repeatedly to make space for passing climbers. Several doubled over, panting, “Is it much further?” I felt a bit sorry for them, hiking up in the blazing sunshine, but it felt good to say, “Oh yeah, you still have an hour to go!”

Our roundtrip hike took about three hours, so Stella missed her 9 a.m. meeting time with Ian. Fortunately, he had found the entrance to our mountain hike and wrote her a note in the registration ledger, which she saw while signing out. What a smart guy!

Oh, I failed to mention that every book and every blog we had read about visiting Machu Picchu warned emphatically, “You can NOT bring any food or water into the park!” So we didn’t, and we nearly died. By the time we reached the bottom of the mountain, we were dehydrated and exhausted. Visitors who climb one of the mountains are allowed to leave the park and re-enter once. That gave us the opportunity to gulp down some water at the park’s café. Craving both salt and sugar, I also slammed a Sprite and ate a bag of Doritos. (By the way, we saw scads of tourists with bottles of water inside the park. Dang it.)

After our rest, we re-entered the park, and Stella took off to find her family. By then, I knew I didn’t have the stamina for a tour. Tony and I wandered around the ruins, listening in occasionally to other people’s guides. By the time we had followed the marked paths through most of the site, the afternoon tour groups were flooding in. Seemed like a good time to get out of there.

During our travels, I read the book Turn Right at Machu Picchu: Rediscovering the Lost City One Step and a Time, by Mark Adams. Both hilarious and enlightening, the book offered fascinating glimpses into the Inca Empire and the generations of researchers who have tried to understand it. The author details his re-creation of the journey that led to Machu Picchu’s “discovery” by controversial Yale University professor Hiram Bingham in 1911. Bingham thought he had found the legendary Vilcabamba, “the lost city of the Incas,” where the last Incan rulers ultimately lost their battle with the Spanish conquistadores in 1572. (In fact, Vilcabamba is now believed to be located at the ruins of Espíritu Pampa, which was also discovered but dismissed by Bingham. American explorer Gene Savoy led the excavation of that site and found it to be much bigger than Machu Picchu.)

Want to know more? Here’s a comprehensive article about the Inca Civilization from the Ancient History Encyclopedia website.

I’ve been sitting here, typing and deleting, typing and deleting, typing and deleting as I try to describe Machu Picchu. It feels impossible to capture it … the glory of its sacred valley, the mystery of its purpose, the interconnectedness of its construction with celestial symbolism, the genius of its architecture, the whimsy of its llamas grazing on ancient terraces, the shadows cast by its holy mountains. Occasionally while walking through the site, I found myself alone. Tony would wander off during a break in the rolling waves of tourists. And I could turn in a slow circle, imagining life as it was when up to 1,000 elite Incans came here for a little luxury get-away (that’s one theory, anyway), never bothered by invading Europeans. Must have been pretty special.

Woo hoo! A break in the fog.

How did the Incas carve these stones with no steel tools?

Terraces for farming withstood heavy rains and featured brilliant drainage systems.

As we discovered in the rainforest of Costa Rica, Tony’s superpower is spotting wildlife. He did it again at Machu Picchu. It looked like a rabbit-squirrel hybrid, but we think it was a chinchilla.

Enjoying the view.

I could have sat here, staring at this all day, if only 90 million people weren’t about to stampede over me.

Tony appreciating our parting shot.

This short National Geographic video offers a nice description of Machu Picchu.

On the Road

Savoring Peru: Aguascaliente

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Tuesday morning, we rose with the roosters, collected our packed breakfasts (sandwiches and fruit), checked out of the hotel, and piled in a van to the train station.

The Peru Rail train was packed with travelers heading to Aguascaliente, which is the jumping off point for visiting Machu Picchu. Tony and I sat at a small table facing a couple who had somewhat lower hygiene standards than ours. Between naps, I marveled at the landscapes zipping by.

Tony said the train ride was a highlight of this trip. “I’ve been lucky enough to see the Great Wall of China, the Roman ruins of Ephesus, the pyramids of Egypt, the hidden city of Petra” he said. “To be honest, the Inca ruins were cool, but the mountains made me really happy.”

Shots out the train window:

I had arranged for someone from our Aguascaliente hotel to meet us at the train station. After some initial confusion, we found him and then looked around for his car. That’s when we realized there were no cars. He led us up a steep hill, over a bridge, up another steep hill, over a ramp, up some steps, up another steep hill, to the tippy top section of town, and then up a flight of stairs at the hostal, Samananchis Machupicchu. Keep in mind that we were not only dragging our luggage but also dragging our altitude-affected bodies, hearts racing and breath coming in raspy gasps.

After checking in, we wandered out for lunch and landed at Mapacho for Peruvian cuisine and craft beer. Actually, their sign said “CRATF beer,” but it was still pretty tasty.

Hordes of sweaty tourists mob Aguascaliente each day. They eat, drink, and maybe sleep here before lining up for blocks to catch a bus up the mountain. The town exists solely to meet the needs of these travelers jonesing for a glimpse of Machu Picchu. People had warned us that it was the kind of place where you want to get in and get out ASAP. To my surprise, the town was touristy but quaint with lots of outdoor sculptures, a colorful artisan market, decent restaurants, friendly people, and even a French bakery (where I had a buttery pain au chocolat and great coffee), not to mention 360-degree views of the Andes.

Quite a few friends were traveling in Peru during this break. We met up with Paul, Traci, and their two kids, for drinks overlooking this courtyard. Although we liked to believe the town was flying a gay pride flag, it turns out it is actually the flag of the Inca empire. I guess that makes more sense.

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Savoring Peru: Quick stop in Cusco

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We spent much of this holiday waking up early to travel and then waiting in lots of lines. Monday morning was no different. We headed to the airport at the crack of dawn for our 9:44 flight to Cusco.

Our ultimate goal for this trip was to visit Machu Picchu, but there’s no easy way to get there. You have to fly to Cusco, catch a train to Aguascaliente, and then ride a bus up the mountain to the site.

The Lima airport defies logic. Most airports offer few entertainment options until after you get through security. In Lima, however, you can poke around in a variety of shops, wet your whistle in any number of bars, or fill up at the expansive food court before getting in line for the security check. Wise seasoned travelers such as ourselves know that you should get through security as soon as possible, so we did. Unfortunately, the other side of security was like Siberia. Not a single restaurant. One snack bar. One souvenir shop. And our flight was delayed for more than three hours.

By the time we reached Cusco and checked in to our cute little hotel, we were all famished. We met up with Ian’s father, Peter, who had flown from the States, and we all walked down the hill in search of food. We arbitrarily chose the restaurant, Morena. Reviews were mixed, but I loved my meal, and I was starting to see how easy it was to be vegetarian in Peru. In fact, the Incas in this region cultivated quinoa, which continues to be a Peruvian staple. I ate a LOT of quinoa on this trip and never tired of it.

Guinea pig is another staple here. Crispy tandoori guinea pig? No thank you!

Cusco was gorgeous. I was looking forward to spending more time here on our last day in Peru. For now, it was just a stopover.

Our hotel, Tambo del Arriero Hotel Boutique, featured a central courtyard, bold colors, and quirky decor. We were too tired and full from our late lunch to venture out again for dinner, so we met up for drinks and crashed early. We knew we had another dawn departure planned.

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Savoring Peru: Eating our way through Lima

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As Chile celebrated Dieciocho, Tony and I skipped town for a week in Peru with our friends, Ian and Stella, and their two girls. But first things first, we had to welcome our latest house sitters, Kathy and Leigh, with our customary pisco sour toast at our favorite restaurant, Tiramisu.

During our trip, these lovely Aussies sent several updates with photos of Ella, who clearly didn’t lack for attention.

For our first stop in Peru, we landed in Lima and stayed at a nice little Airbnb in the Miraflores district. A friend from our New Delhi days, Alicia, recently moved here to work at the The American School of Lima, so we basically spent 24 hours eating with Alicia and seeing nothing else of the city. For our first meal, we enjoyed delicious traditional Peruvian fare at Panchita.

The next morning, Tony and I found a local café for a light breakfast and then walked to Alicia’s incredible apartment. The vibrant Miraflores neighborhood sits on a cliff that overlooks the Pacific Ocean, so the walk featured stunning scenery. The district’s quaint streets were lined with restaurants, cafés, pubs, and shops. We paused to join spectators at a small skateboard/dirt bike park for a few minutes, and then strolled along the cliffside promenade.

At Alicia’s 10th-floor apartment, I couldn’t get over the view! Alas, we had to leave. Gluttony awaited at one of the world’s top-ranked restaurants, Astrid & Gaston.

According to the restaurant’s website:

Our story began in 1994. Upon finishing their culinary studies in Paris, Gastón Acurio and Astrid Gutsche founded their eponymous restaurant in a small house in the district of Miraflores. At first, the restaurant was quite French, as it was dictated by the global trend. Over time, it became decidedly Peruvian. We embraced our culture and flavors, experimenting with local ingredients and recipes with one goal in mind, to promote our cuisine around the world.
In 2014, on our 20th anniversary, we left Cantuarias Street to start a new project: to settle in Casa Moreyra, the 17th century San Isidro estate. Today, Gastón and Astrid, together with a young team of chefs, are in constant search of new flavors and ideas to offer.

We opted for the 15-course tasting menu, and Alicia and I added the wine pairings. This was the menu. Eeek!

With my recent (and unfortunately timed) adoption of vegetarianism, Alicia’s aversion to seafood and other slimy things, and Tony’s disdain for vegetables, we created some challenges for the chef. Somehow, it all worked. The servings were small but packed with deliciousness. Some of the presentations were a bit cheesy, like the first one, “an indecent bed,” which came on a sculptural plate shaped like a bed, but I had no complaints. Almost five hours later, we were comfortably full, a bit tipsy, and feeling giddy.

Back in Alicia’s neighborhood, we walked along the promenade. She hadn’t yet ventured down to the water since moving to Lima, and I certainly couldn’t NOT touch the ocean. We walked down a lot of steps and crossed the road on a pedestrian bridge to reach the rocky beach.

One perk of international teaching for so long is we know people practically everywhere, and reunions are always special. Thanks for hanging out with us, Alicia!