Positively Perfect Pisac

Tuesday morning we woke up early with plans to mosey over to Calle Puputi, stopping along the way to grab some breakfast, and catch the collectivo to Pisac. As usual, we were accosted by the overly enthusiastic cab drivers in the Plaza de Armas as we went to walk across it. Usually we ignore them, but on this morning we figured it couldn't hurt to ask how much the ride to Calle Puputi would cost. The answer? 4 soles. Less than $2 to take a taxi instead of walking over a mile while dodging crazy Cusco drivers? Definitely worth it.

The cab driver happened to know exactly where we were headed, and dropped us off right in front of the collectivo, where we were rushed inside and the car took off. With less than 5 minutes from the Plaza de Armas to being on our way to Pisac, we felt a little overwhelmed by the whirlwind pace of the morning which had greatly departed from the leisurely stroll we had been anticipating. While our stomachs growled in protest of the skipped breakfast, the minivan masterly made its way toward Pisac on the scariest road I have ever had the misfortune to ride on.

Just 1 week before our trip to Pisac the area had been hit by another round of heavy rains and severe flooding. This second round of floods resulted in the death of 7 women in Pisac (http://www.peruviantimes.com/seven-killed-by-flooding-in-cusco-region/045191), and made the road between Cusco and Pisac impassable due to several mudslides. Originally we had thought that Pisac would be another set of ruins that we would need to place in the future trip category, along with Machu Picchu, until we had overheard on Sunday that the road was again passable. It turns out that passable is a relative term.

During the 1 hour long ride we had to make our way around countless mudslides that blocked half of the road. There was no one present to direct traffic, and each time we made our way around the mudslides onto the opposite side of the road we tempted fate in hopes that we would not have a head on collision with a car headed the other way. The scariest moment of the ride, however came when we passed a section of road that had been undercut more than halfway by the neighboring river, leaving pieces of asphalt precariously jutting out into space. A very high tech and obvious method had been used to mark that you could not drive on this section of road: rocks. Not flares, or even bright orange cones, but just tiny little rocks the size of my hand bordering the section of undercut road. Needless to say we were relieved when the ride was over, and decided that at the first sign of rain we would run back to the collectivo in hopes of making it back to Cusco before the road became impassable again.

In addition to the road being fraught with dangers, the main bridge in Pisac had also been washed out. So instead of being dropped off in the main square, we were dropped off across the river, where we had to cross a suspended footbridge. After grabbing a quick bite of vegetables and beef with gravy served over rice (only 2 soles each),from a woman at the side of the road, we excitedly bounced across the suspended bridge, at least until we realized that the bridge was the only thing protecting us from falling into a river that was threatening even at that moment to overflow its banks.

Once we crossed the bridge we were met by several taxi drivers offering us rides up to the ruins and we chose to ride with a kind looking elderly gentleman named Pedro. On the way up to the ruins, which tower 3,000 feet above the town on the side of the mountain, Pedro and I chatted about the ruins, and where Ryan and I had been so far. When we reached the top he walked out into the ruins with us and pointed out all of the different things we should see and the best way to walk through the ruins. He then offered to come back and pick us up in 2 hours, and then we could pay for the round trip at that time. The taxi ride seemed a little bit pricey to us at 30 soles round trip, but turned out to be money well spent since Pedro was so helpful.

The ruins at Pisac were breathtaking. After exiting the taxi we walked out between some of the houses at the ruins, and were greeted by amazing views up and down the entire valley, with terracing below us as far as our eyes could see. In addition to what our eyes could see, there is also what we couldn't see: tourists. Our entire time at the ruins we saw just 5 other tourists. From the houses we made our way across to the baths, which while pretty were nothing compared to those that we would see at Tipon the next day. From there we made our way across a trail that followed the cliff face, passed through a cave, and came out the other side at a set of Inca crypts made of rather crude stone work, but still very interesting to see as they were the only crypts which we saw on our trip. From there we took stairs down several hundred feet to see the intricate stone work at the sun temple. It was interesting to see how much the temples varied between Ollantaytambo and Pisac. While Ollantaytambo was a small site with a small Sun Temple, Pisac was large and sprawling, with a Sun Temple to match.

From the Sun Temple we made our way down through the terraces to another set of houses, situated above more seemingly endless levels of terraces. But it wasn't the walk down that was difficult, it was the walk up. If you remember, we were supposed to meet Pedro 2 hours after he dropped us off for the ride back down, and by the time we finished our leisurely walk through the ruins we had only 30 minutes to walk back up. This seemed like an easy task. It was not. Even though the wonder drug acetazolamide kept the altitude sickness at bay, it did not magically enlarge my lungs. Who would have guessed. So while Ryan, the runner, pranced ahead of me up the hill, my walk was punctuated by drawn out gasping episodes. Every 5 minutes or so I had to stop, double over with my hands on my knees, and gasp for air. Maybe I should take up running.

Despite my poor lung capacity, we met Pedro in time and he took us down the mountainside to the market in Pisac, stopping along the way so that I could snap a few more pictures of the ruins from afar. The market here was much larger than the one in Chichero, but also much more tourist oriented. Most of the textiles were machine made, unlike the gorgeous handmade ones which we purchased in Chinchero, and most stalls took dollars for payment. In spite of the obviously tourist oriented nature we continued our spending spree and purchased a few more gifts for our families, along with a lovely table runner for ourselves.

Over the course of our market trips it became obvious that I am the bargainer in this family. While I would haggle down to the last sol, just to see how cheap I could get them to go, Ryan's face would betray his excitement. When he asked about a Peru soccer jersey and found out the price of 20 soles, Ryan's face lit up so much that I knew the woman would not compromise on the price.

In a corner of the market we found a man with a large wood fired oven cooking ham and cheese empanadas. I think we were both a little disappointed with the seemingly lunch meat ham that the empanadas were stuffed with, but the price was right at 2 soles each. In the corner of the restaurant there was a cute little enclosure filled with guinea pigs. As we approached to take a closer look they scattered, apparently knowing that the near future would find them impaled on a stick, roasted over a fire, and placed on a plate in front of a salivating tourist.

As we exited the market onto the main road, we realized that we didn't know which way to walk to get to the pedestrian bridge. As we stood there wondering what to do, our most unique transportation of the trip happened to pull over and offer some help. This help came in the form of a very nice man riding on a 3 wheeled bicycle cart. When he realized where we were going he said that he was headed in the same direction, and told us to hop on in. I asked him how much we needed to pay him, and he insisted that no payment was necessary, as he was on his way there anyway.

Along the way it became obvious that he does not usually transport human cargo. We happened to pass several of his friends who were headed the other direction on their own bicycle carts, and they called out to him, pointing, laughing, and calling him taxi. We were both grateful for the ride, as the bridge ended up being over a mile away and the sun was glaring. It was actually surprisingly comfortable on the cart, although the speed bumps were quite hair raising. When we arrived at the destination I gave him a few soles for his help, especially since he will probably be the brunt of jokes from his friends for weeks to come.

Back in Cusco that afternoon we stopped by Qorikancha, where the Church of Santo Domingo was built atop an Incan Sun temple. Since Cusco was the "navel" of the Incan empire, the Sun Temple here was appropriately elaborate with a ring of gold several feet wide encircling the complex along the inner wall, and a garden filled with exotic plants and animals made entirely from gemstones and precious metals. Unfortunately this was all pillaged by the conquistadors, leaving the expertly engineered Incan walls which the church was built upon.

In the 1800s a large earthquake in the area revealed portions of Incan walls that had been covered up during construction of the monastery, and the monks set upon the uncovering of the walls. The result today are solid Incan walls juxtaposed upon the gorgeous monastery courtyard. While we were here we also hit up the Qorikancha museum, mostly becuase it was included in our tourist ticket (Qorikancha itself was not and cost us about 12 soles each). It turned out to be well worth it, both for their hilarious english translations, and a few Incan mummies in a display case in the back.

After Qorikancha we walked over to the Iglesia y Convento de la Merced. This inner courtyard in this convent put the Qorikancha courtyard to shame. There was a bubbling fountain, gorgeous flowers, and best of all we were the only people there. The best part of the convent, however, laid hidden behind a heavy wooden door that was unlocked for us by a friendly looking, if quiet, man and his young daughter. Not only does this church possess the second largest pearl in the world, put it is displayed in a monstrance made in the 1720's with 22 kg of gold, 600 pearls, 1500 diamonds, and countless other precious gems. What is a monstrance you ask? According to wikipedia it is "the vessel used in the Roman Catholic, Old Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran Churches to display the consecrated Eucharistic Host, during Eucharistic adoration or Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament." This still doesn't help me out much, but probably means something to you Catholics out there.

Worn out from our long day of travelling we ended the day with sweet tamales, purchased from a woman on the street corner for just 0.50 soles each. Dinner for 2 for 3 soles... perfect.