Quick recap: First was the brutal bus trip to Santa Rosa, then an unintentionally meandering trek to Santa Teresa, which I am still on as the story unfolds. If I do make it to Santa Teresa, I will overnight there, then walk the next day to Aguas Calientes, and the next to Machu Picchu.
After leaving the insect killer, the trail was mercifully level for the next hour. I found what I think is the Perez Hacienda by following ducks - so far ducks and barking dogs presaged every human outpost. This place was no exception - ducks, dogs and cats lolled in various shady locations, but no Perezes or any other humans were in evidence. I wandered through the rather extensive compound, peering into windows and open doorways as I passed, but there was absolutely no one about.
No big deal, I guess, but I would have liked to confirm that this was indeed the Perez Hacienda. And maybe get another hand-drawn map for the collection...
At the Perez boundary, there were three clearly-marked trails. I had guessed wrong on about 50% of my trail guesses so far, and it would be dark in a few hours. I had no idea how far Santa Teresa was, and I had last seen a human about an hour ago.
According to my Argentinian friend back in Cusco, the trek from Santa Rosa to Santa Teresa took only two or three hours. I had been at it for more than five hours. Of course, the bus trip was only supposed to be three hours, and cost 15 sols. In reality, it was five hours and 30 sols. I had my doubts about the Argentinian...
Later, when I arrived back in Cusco, I talked with my landlord about the Argentinian. He related that they have a saying in Peru and no doubt in other Latin countries as well: If someone is loud, brash, and has no idea what he is talking about and speaks English, he is an American. If the person is speaking Spanish, he is an Argentinian. (No offense, he said to the American. It's just a story. Uh-hunh, I said, loudly and brashly...)
The left path went down steeply, the right went up steeply, so I picked the middle path. After about four hours of walking uphill, I had become a big fan of level ground.
The unnerving thing is to be on a trail, find a clearing, and see off in the distance, on a different mountain, another trail, actually populated by hikers.
A bit distraught that I should need to get off my mountain and traipse up that other mountain in the distance, I trudged on. Screw those other people. I'm sure they're lost. That group with the guide.
Well, as it turns out, there're more than one way to skin a cat (sorry Midnight, Elmo, Sammy, George, Tica, et al). The trail I chose, the very Buddhist middle way, turned out to take me to a real road, well, a dirt road, but a road nonetheless, and within a kilometer, a weather-beaten sign that said "Santa Teresa 3". It was already 6:30, the sun had already hid his face behind the mountains, and I was overjoyed to find that I could rest my weary bones in three kilometers. I just hoped that a zero or a five hadn't fallen off the end of the sign...
As I stood there gazing stupidly at the sign, a family in a station wagon - different family - stopped and asked if I wanted a ride. So I got a little bonus, a little rest, and in minutes I was in Santa Teresa, a medium-size village surrounded by hills and mountains.
I found a hotel, asked for a quiet room, and was given one that looked out on the local high school futbol field, where band practice was currently underway. I'm not sure what "tranquilo" means in the local dialect; one can assume it means "loud as hell". But anyway I was dog-tired and slept through the evening's band practice - at least it wasn't an inventory of any kind, as far as I could tell.
Thankfully, the hotel's rules and regulations were spelled out in this sign.
The next morning, I awoke to early-morning band practice. It turns out there was an important parade this coming Saturday, and all the local children were in training to make this the noisiest parade ever!
Day two, I'm sorry to report, was spectacularly uneventful.
I walked along a road, then along a railway. The road and the rail tracks at times followed a river. As I got closer to Aguas Calientes, I passed mountains on my right, one of which housed Machu Picchu. This one has the flag of Cusco atop.
The hike from Santa Teresa to Aguas Calientes took about four hours. (Two if you're from Argentina.) It was pleasantly flat, and peopled, and direct, and there was a lot of vegetation. A pleasant stroll.
I really enjoyed reading this blog. You have an engaging writing style. Thanks for sharing.
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