Ollantaytambo and Cuzco

Written by my Dad, Alec and Joffre's Grandpa Clint:

Ollantaytambo

The fifth and eighth nights of our journey find us at the ancient Inca village and ruin of Ollantaytambo. For our lodging here, Melania has chosen the El Albergue Ollantaytambo, which is actually the old railway station, located immediately adjacent to the current one, a ten minute walk below the town. Lonely Planet describes it as 'characterful', and there is no denying that. They also describe it as a hostel, but I have to say it is more of a full blown hotel, or B&B, with each of the private rooms boasting its own modern bathroom.

The entrance to the hotel is right off the station platform, making the location very secure, as access to the platform is gained through a guarded gate, and access to the hotel is gained through a locked door by buzzing for the staff.

The reception and kitchen/dining area are on the main floor, with the dining room providing access through a rear door to the rest of the compound. The back yard is a lovely space, walled, and providing access to several smaller buildings. It has hammocks, wicker chairs, games, lawn, stonework paths, sauna, and a terrific variety of flowering plants centered by a large palm tree. Three friendly dogs have the run of the yard. The boys have a great time playing out there while the adults relax and photograph the flowers.

An outside back staircase leads to a second floor balcony that gives access to the rooms. Chairs on the balcony provide a lovely shaded area for relaxing with a superb view of the mountains and the ruin. The rooms themselves are delightfully restored, with thick white walls and dark wooden floors and furnishings. They feature old style double doors, and hinged windows with shutters. These can be closed up for daytime sleeping, opened to let in light, or opened again to flood the rooms with fresh air. The rooms are tastefully decorated with vases of fresh-cut flowers from the back yard, visual art created by the proprietress, and nick-knacks of local origin. We are delighted with the visual appeal, peaceful atmosphere and comfort of the place, and find that we can take beautiful pictures of the mountains and of the Ollantaytambo ruin right through our bathroom and bedroom windows.

The station is a train lover's dream come true. The terminal is still quite active, with service to both tourists and local traffic. We are amazed by the crowds and the frantic activity on the platform and outside the gate at arrival and departure times. It is quiet during the night, but very active morning and evening. The room that Melania, Joffre, Alec and Steven have for both stays has double doors with shuttered windows that open directly onto a tiny balcony, which overhangs the platform. From it we can look down on the trains and on the people as they come and go.

Just beyond the tracks is a rushing mountain river, and beyond that a series of Inca terraces rising up the lower slope of the mountain. Looking to the northwest along the tracks we can see the snowcapped peaks that we will pass on the way to Machu Picchu. Trains are being assembled right before us. Local trains and tourist specials come and go with much ringing of bells and blowing of whistles. Local women move up and down the platform and between the tracks selling hot corn with cheese to the passengers, or offering brightly coloured hats, bags and dolls for sale. Backpack toting tourists move uncertainly along the platform, while local passengers jostle past in a much more hurried and purposeful manner, and toting significantly larger loads.

Closing the shutters and stepping back through the room and adjacent lounge to the backyard leads to a contrasting atmosphere of quiet serenity and relaxation.

Overall, the Albergue is just a superb place to stay. The staff are very friendly and helpful, preparing an excellent breakfast, as well as providing economical laundry service, and storing excess baggage while we are at Machu Picchu.

The town of Ollantaytambo stands where the Sacred Valley narrows as the Rio Urubamba begins a more rapid descent toward Aguas Calientes at the foot of Machu Picchu. The town itself is truly delightful, and is accessed by a cobblestone road that climbs from the end of the highway through the Sacred Valley. The road leads into a narrow street that opens onto a village square. Immediately behind the square, one enters a series of beautiful Inca era streets, too narrow for vehicles, and leading past the ancient courtyards of occupied homes. Water still runs cheerfully down the aqueducts at the edges of the streets, as the inhabitants go about their business. Lonely Planet describes this area of canchas as the best surviving example of Inca city planning, and tells us that it has been continuously inhabited since the 13th century.

Across the square is the road that angles down to the river and the railway station. Immediately beyond that intersection, a small bridge leads to the entrance to the ruin. Once past the souvenir stands and inside, one is immediately at the base of the terraces, which lead steeply up to the complex at the top of the ruin. This is believed to be one of the last building sites that the Incas commissioned, as there is a lot of evidence that it was still under construction at the time of the conquest. In addition to the spectacular views of the village and the surrounding valleys, it features some of the best examples of Inca stonework to be seen anywhere. Because of its close proximity to the village, we have ample time to see it properly in under two hours, even with the youngsters along.

The ruin is not actually limited to this particular site. There are what are believed to be massive granaries high up on the opposite mountain face. These can be accessed from a steep hike that begins on the end of one of the Incan streets just off the edge of the town square, but we have neither the time nor the energy to go there, so we satisfy ourselves with photographing it from the ruin.

We are back at the Albergue by 10:00 AM, on our last day there, and our driver has arrived to take us back to Cuzco. I would have been happy to spend another week in Ollantaytambo and the Sacred Valley, as I feel that we have only just begun to see and appreciate the area. We take a different route back, climbing out of the Sacred Valley up a series of switchbacks above the town of Urubamba, which again offer terrific views of the valley and the mountains beyond, then heading over a high plain, through beautiful rolling dry-land farm country, before descending once more into Cuzco.

The last two nights of our tour are spent in Cuzco, at the same hotel described earlier. We visit a weaving museum/store, and are able to purchase some wonderful samples of the local woven goods. At this late stage in the tour, the boys are becoming less and less enthusiastic about dressing up and heading out from yet another hotel room to get a bite to eat in yet another restaurant, or to visit yet another historic site catering to the interests of gown-ups, so, other than our outing to the colossal ruin of Sacsayhuaman, we spend the bulk of our time at the hotel relaxing. One restaurant worthy of mention is Moni, a terrific little place where we have a delightful time enjoying excellent curries and top notch coffees, and sensational hot chocolate. Moni is just a few blocks off the main square, and we can walk through the square on our way there and back. The cathedrals on the square are truly impressive. Very ornate competing structures in brown stone tower above the square with its central fountains and flocks of pigeons that Joffre loves to chase.

It seems there is always a celebration of some sort involving a parade and bands going on, either in the square or on the streets leading into it. Joffre loves parades and bands, and we find ourselves watching processions for various saints or virgins, and at one point watching a huge parade, bands and all, celebrating all of the classes that have graduated from a local girls' school.

On our last evening we try to have supper at a Korean restaurant just up the street from Moni. Melania has eaten here on her previous trip, and very much wants to go back. Unfortunately they are closed, so we make a point of going back for lunch on our final day, prior to heading for the airport. It is on the way back from this lunch that we are provided with a stark reminder of he fact that this country is still not far removed from times of serious civil conflict.

On the way to lunch, I notice a truck full of fully outfitted riot police in front of the hotel, and I find this passingly odd. It is not uncommon to see heavily armed police in this country, and Cuzco seems to have police of every sort; traffic police, tourist police, and so on, but this is something more. We enjoy a terrific lunch, Korean style, and walk back toward the hotel, timing things so that we will arrive just prior to our transfer and her driver. As we cross the square we notice a group of young people up on the roof corner of the building next to the Jesuit cathedral, banging a drum and shouting slogans through a megaphone. Melania cannot quite translate what they are saying, as it is a bit garbled, but the tone is obviously anything but festive. To reach the hotel, we have to cross the intersection with one side street after leaving the square. As we approach the corner, we can hear quite a commotion coming out of the side street, and we can see a number of tourists and local bystanders peering up the street. We have to step out into the busier street to walk around them. As we do so I glance up the street and see more young people. Obviously protesters, again shouting slogans, and face to face with the aforementioned riot police. We keep moving, and stop at a small market a few door closer to the hotel entrance to buy the boys an ice-cream. While we are doing so, there is a sudden increase in the intensity of things back at the corner. People, and tear gas burst forth from the side street, followed by the riot police. Cindy and I quickly push our group into the store, as the pursuit charges past us. The woman running the store tells Melania that the university students are protesting the corrupt selection process for professors. As soon as we can safely do so, we run to the hotel entrance a few doors down.
Like ex-pats in a stereotypical movie, we find ourselves sitting in the hotel courtyard, eating our ice-cream and watching the turmoil outside the door. At one point the base drum appears to be arrested, and riot police run by the door carrying it, pursued by the students.

Our transfer, Celia, arrives at the appointed time, but the driver has some challenge getting in with the van, as several streets are blocked of by the police. By this time the protesters have moved to the opposite side of the busier street, and are pontificating from a ledge, again face to face with the riot police. We drive by the scene on our way out, and are re-directed through side streets as the main square is still blocked off. Once clear of the area, we are on our way to the airport and the short flight back to Arequipa. After all of the ground that we have covered in the past 10 days, and all of the adventures we have experienced, it seems very strange to be able to pop back to the beginning on a half-hour flight.