Rio Tambopata Peru

Two-plus hours by boat on Rio Tambopata, a river as wide, flat and brown as the town we passed through, lined with green, orange-ish water dotted with islets of dark, volcanic-looking rock, and finally we arrive at Wasai Lodge.  Our boat is long, low and covered as almost all others on this river. Most carry tourists but one can still see locals, their boats loaded with bananas and headed for market.

Our first event was a night walk in what our guide, Guermo, told us is actually secondary rainforest. His eye was amazing, catching every movement, spotting every insect, spider and frog. One sighting was of a tarantula with her young that he lured out of her nest with a stick in order to give us a better view. On a later walk, Guermo pointed out and explained the uses of many medicinal plants and trees. Later he told me that he loved the jungle because every time he went into it he found something new, different and exciting.

At last, the event I signed on for, a trip to the macaw clay licks. We had to get up at 3:30 am, pile into the boats and make our way to a reserve in order to be there at dawn. We were cautioned not to wear blue or red as those are the colors these birds associate with predators. We stood with our cameras on an island across a waterway from the clay cliffs where the macaws go every morning to dig at the clay with minerals that neutralize toxins, according to our guide. The birds arrive in pairs and put on quite a show, some showing bright yellow as they flew in, perching in the trees, assualting the clay licks, groups taking off in a flurry of feathers, then settling again...and the noise! These are not songbirds and their raucus cries were as exciting as the visual event. This was the highlight of my trip to Peru.

Our next big event was a trip to Lago Sandoval where we hiked a long trail before boarding a canoe for a short ride down a swampy channel into the lake. Our objective was to find caymans and otters, and we did, but more exciting to me were the birds and many colorful butterflies. As we hiked back from the river, the monkeys who are still during the heat of the day became active, leaping from tree to tree in some sort of mass migration. Very entertaining.

Back in Puerto Maldanado, a low, dusty town of flat buildings, a square with an odd Japanese-styled monument, and new steel bridge spanning the river and headed for the Atlantic. This town is not distinctive. On the outskirts are the poorer folk living in the usual peruvian adobe huts and, further out, pole huts sided with rough wood or tarps and groves of banana and papaya. It is very basic yet somehow it doesn't appear to be a such a terrible life.

Macchu Picchu

I don't think too many people visit Peru without going to Macchu Picchu. It is spectacular, an ancient Inca settlement perched high atop a very tall rugged mountain and surrounded by the same. I won't go into too much detail or history because Macchu Picchu is one of the world's seven wonders. Why repeat what's already been said over and over.

Our departure point was the small touristy town of Aguas Calientes. Only the really well off can afford to stay on the mountain.

Long lines at the bus, long lines at the gate, too many available guides, enter and up steps, steps and more to the trail leading to the Sun Gate where views are supposed to be good...and indeed they are. It was a bit of a hike, a trail dressed in lush green and early spring flowers, lots of foot traffic. There are nothing but a couple roofless rooms at Sun Gate, a little disappointing, but I enjoyed sitting in the sun watching tourists photograph themselves and butterflies floating on air currents. The only bathrooms on sight are down att the entrance so stepping off the trail into any small clearing or rounding any wall offering some degree of privacy was not a pleasant experience



The main settlement is amazing, walled agricultural terraces and roofless rock buildings for the most part. For the sake of show, some have been roofed with the same kind of reeds the Inca traded for, from a good distance down the Rio Urababmba as far away as Patacancha. There are stone posts sticking out from the sides of the buildings and the roof is lashed to those with what appears to be split bamboo.

The Inca were master stonemasons, their best efforts evident in the temples. These rocks are finely cut, cornered, and smoothed by the rubbung the surfaces with hematitie, a harder stone. They are fitted together so closely there is no need for any type of mortar. These buildings weather earthquakes, we are told. The stonework is a little less precise in the dwellings of nobility and there is a significant decrease in quality in the dwellings of the working class.

What fascinated me most about the Incas was their precise measurement of time, hours, seasons, and their methods of determining them through the use of shadow, reflection and placement of windows. Unfortunately, I was unable to take any acceptable photos so will close with their next best invention, llama lawnmowers.

Peru. the Sacred Valley

After too many hours in the air, finally I landed in Cuzco then shared a taxi into the heart of the 'Sacred Valley'. Spring is almost here and the landscape is still dressed in golds and browns, fields being worked in the time honored methods of men behind an ox-driven plow or by the hands of the whole family.  Behind them, the Andes rise jagged and  blue.

 

My base is Ollantaytambo, a town built on Inca foundations, a small city with narrow cobbled roadways between high stone walls that hide the living quarters and courtyards complete with colorful clotheslines, chickens, perhaps a cow. Traffic consists of walkers with or without their livestock, motorcycle taxis, but seldom an automobile. Those haunt the plaza along with a daily stream of tour buses. Many people in this area wear traditional dress, colorfully woven shawls, brightly trimmed skirts and interesting hats for the women, mostly western dress on the men.

Inca stonework.

view from the Inca ruins overlooking Ollantaytambo

 

Augusto, our cabbie of choice, took us to Patacancha, a small town known for its traditional weaving. The dusty road took us up, up into present day Inca country, past old ruins, terraced mountainsides, narrow cultivated valleys, brown adobe settlements, waterfalls and mountain views. After a short stop in Patacancha we followed the road deep into the mountains where cultivation gave way to the rocky, golden grassland where alpaca grazed, treeless, with blue jagged peaks all around. My head was splitting and my heart beat wildly in my chest long before we reached the crest where Augusto finally turned us around, announcing the altitude to be 6,000 meters.

 

Other side trips included:

 Moray where the Inca made circular terraces is believed to have been an agricultural experiment. Apparently the ecosystem changes enough from terrace to terrace to make a difference,  veggies on the bottom layers, then potatoes, corn, wheat and finally the hardy quinoa at the highest levels, a system that is still in use, I was told.

 

Next stop Salinas where there are salt pans have been worked from ancient Inca times, fed by a natural mineral spring higher up the mountain.

 

The Sunday market in Chinchero is where I bought reasonably priced alpaca products, my woven purchases being a very small part of the market's offerings. There I ate my lunch. a stuffed red pepper on a small cornmeal patty, tasty and colorful. The woman cooking them had some fileted fish breaded and laid out at her feet...in fact, one foot rested on that fish. I was amused but not tempted.