The plan to go on a great South America Extravaganza began in October, when my friends Katie and Haley and I realized we had some extra time after our final exams to travel. We knew our time in South America would not be complete without a trip to Machu Picchu, and figured while we were at it we would explore Bolivia and parts of Chile as well. Our friend Steph decided to join in too, so we were a group of four off on an adventure. The morning of December 4, we all arrived at Haley’s apartment before dawn to take a car to the airport. It was then we realized we had a very tight layover in Lima (for more on the story of buying these plane tickets, see my earlier blog post, “Historias Extraordinarias”). We were able to get our seats moved to the front of the plane, in hopes that this would help with our connection to Cusco.
After realizing that with the time change of two hours between Argentina and Peru we would be able to make our two flights, we were happy campers. We arrived in Cusco, Peru, around 2 p.m.; we had asked for the hostel to arrange a cab to pick us up, and we would pay the hostel when we got there. However, after dealing with a barrage of aggressive taxi drivers, we discovered that no one had appeared to get us. After paying quite possibly three or four times more than what we would have to get to the hostel (though still only costing each of us $4), we arrived at Loki Hostel.
I think the best way to describe Loki is as a fortress. Guarded from any intruder by a 45 degree-angle hill, the hostel has a restaurant, bar, game area, tv room, and really anything else you could need inside. This fact became very important the next day.
We had booked a tour through the hostel that would take us to Machu Picchu in four days. The plan was the bike, hike, and zipline from Cusco to Aguas Calientes (the tourist town adjacent to Machu Picchu), with some help from vans and cars along the way. We would spend the last day at Machu Picchu and then take the tourist train back to Cusco. This was a cheaper and less physically strenuous alternative to the Inca Trail, a five-day hike from a starting location to Machu Picchu. We would leave Cusco on Thursday morning and not return until Sunday evening, carrying all the things we would need in backpacks and leaving our other items locked at the hostel.
The plan was to leave the next morning at 6:30 a.m. for the tour; however, beginning around 6 p.m., I started to not feel so well. I was very tired and nauseated. After attempting—and failing to keep down—plain spaghetti, I knew something was wrong. As I curled up in a ball in my bed, my friends researched and discovered the problem: altitude sickness. There’s no reason why some people experience altitude sickness and others don’t, but everyone is impacted when there are fewer oxygen particles in the air at higher altitudes. We all had a higher likelihood of getting altitude sickness because we did not ascend slowly (we flew in and just dropped our bodies at 3,399 meters above sea level). Essentially, having altitude sickness is like having a hangover that you can’t do anything about—I had a headache, felt weak, was vomiting, among other less than pleasant symptoms. Most people recover within a few days, but for some, the symptoms do not go away until you go to a lower altitude.
The tour was leaving with or without me, so the next morning at 6:15 a.m., I made the decision to stay in Cusco another day to see if I felt better. My friends left on the tour at 6:30, and I was assured I would be able to meet them by 5 p.m. the following day if I felt well enough. At this point, I was too weak to leave the hostel, so thankfully where we were staying was well equipped to help me. I made friends with the tour operator, Ivan, who had me come do a health check every two hours. The reception staff offered to call me a doctor should I need one and everyone had suggestions of what to eat and drink to speed my recovery along. At this point, I was very alone in a strange land, very ill, and without a way to know when I would feel better. The biggest help in all of this was that I could speak Spanish—this helped tremendously when explaining the problems to the various people at the hostel. These employees all speak English, but they appreciate it and (I believe) understand your problems better when you talk in Spanish.
By the end of the day, I was feeling about 80%--well enough to move on from Cusco and start the tour. The following morning, Friday, I boarded a bus at 6:30 a.m. to go meet my friends. I opted out of every physical activity I could (this has been a useful strategy my whole life), so I ended up just sitting in different cars, vans, and cabs for the entire day. This was a good thing, as I was trying to conserve my strength for Machu Picchu on Sunday. The last part of the day involved taking a cab (or, rather, a car that I was told was a cab) from one small town to another town where my friends and their tour would meet me. This was hands-down the scariest car ride of my life, as I sat in the front seat while the driver essentially drove on a 1.25 lane road on the side of a mountain. No guardrails, speed limit signs, or safety precautions were anywhere in sight.
Peruvian countryside
After what felt like three hair-raising hours in the car (but what was most likely 45 minutes), I arrived at the hostel. The group hadn’t gotten there yet, and I had no way to contact my friends to tell them I was arriving. When Joel, our guide, appeared, he told me to stay hidden so we could play a joke on Haley, Katie, and Steph. He went out and told them that I had not actually made it, and then I popped out from behind the car. We were all happy to be reunited and had lots of stories about our (short) time apart.
We spent the night in this small town and had a delicious dinner (stuffed avocado, everyone should try it), we headed out the next morning to zipline. The photos will do a better job here than me to show what exactly we did.
Getting ready to zipline! We went from where I am standing to the other side of the river over the course of five zips.
Zipping across! I prefer to zip in the curled-up ball position so I can go as fast as possible. Also, during a past zipline experience, I stopped in the middle; now when I do this activity, I like to have as little surface area as possible.
Then we hiked three hours along a railroad to Aguas Calientes—this walk was fine because it was mostly flat. Any sort of uphill walking was still pretty difficult for me. I was feeling better for the most part but still waking up with pretty strong headaches. We arrived at our hostel and had our first shower in two days. Steph and I ventured out to see the town (verdict: tourist trap), and then we went to bed early in preparation for Machu Picchu the following day.