Heaven > Mystic Journeys > Peru > Peru & Bolivia - Page 3 (Days 7-10)
Day 7 - December 15, 1997
Morning dawns and along with it a cold shower no matter where you set the faucet! There is more bread and jam with coffee for breakfast and then we board the bus which takes us to the train station where the Peruvian women try to sell us more colorful fabrics. When the train stops we all hop on quickly, buzzing with excitement. Today is the day we embark upon the Inca trail!
The train winds through bumpy narrow passes with tall mountains overhead the Urubamba river raging in the gorge to the left. The train stops at a grassy plateau and we get off, watching it whistle and disappear in the distance while we are here in the jungle, in the middle of seeming nowhere. A rickety suspension bridge crosses the river and we cross it to embark upon the ancient trail. I am ecstatic!
I have read of this and dreamt of this and now I am here, about to begin the two day journey into Macchu Pichu. After the group does its brief ceremony to ask for safe passage, I embrace my own pace and start bounding up the trail. I lose myself in the tropics near the base of the trail but soon I feel like I am home in Arizona with a dirt path winding up the desert-like mountainside. The altitude is high and the temperature is hot but I am in heaven!
Hours into the hike, the trail becomes tropical once again. I make my way across log bridges built to keep the trail from sliding down the mountain and gasp as I encounter waterfalls and colorful bromeliad plants dripping from age-old rainforest trees while colorful butterfiles with luminescent blue wings flit here and there. Fecund black earth and mossy stone-covered walls greet me as I make my way into a set of ruins near the top of the mountain. Huinay Huayna is deserted and since I have hiked ahead of my group, I have the mystical mountain all to myself.
The solstice temple beckons but I am too energized, and too happy to sit still and have visions. Instead I wander the ruins until I am tired and then just sit, gazing at the surreal view before me. Time seems to suspend and soon my group is with me, along with a wonderful lunch of marinated vegetables and organic strawberries. I feel as if the earth is breathing beneath me. Everything is SO completely alive.
As afternoon grows late, we hike a bit further up the path to the hostel which isn't much in the way of accomodations, but even having a roof over our heads and firm bunks is a luxury after such a long hike. 
The one sink for sixteen people doesn't work, but the toilet does flush and so we are quite content. We join the other hikers and travellers from all over the world, eat a filling meal, and watch a rainbow form over the clouds that have gathered in front of us. Glad to be snug and out of the rain we drift into another cozy slumber.
Day 8 - December 16, 1997
Bread, jam, coffee, and more beautiful mountains greet us this morning before we start the next leg of our hike in the tropics. I am uncharacteristically quiet on the trail. Inki Puntu, the Sun gate greets us with surrealistic views of Macchu Pichu just nestled on the plateau beneath. We perform a brief prayer ceremony asking the apus (mountain spirits) to bless our journey and in the world behind my eyes, I see the most magnificent, luminescent beings. The apus are welcoming our group into their domain.
Willaru tells us that Macchu Pichu was once an ancient mystery school. Mystical indeed, the city lays before us like a surrealistic vision. Vague emotions stir within me as I approach the site with reverence. I've seen this picture in so many books and now I am here! I feel as if I am walking in a dream. The altitude (or is it the excitement?) steals my breath.
Stone stairs and walkways form a labyrinth among the buildings and temples. We pause near the Temple of the Heart where a divine rush of feminine energy floods me and embraces me in the sweetest warmth. We travel into chambers where niches resound when you chant a tone into them, and we pause to admire altars that have long been forgotten by those who once used them. We learn how the ancients used one spot to train initiates to see auras and we pause before the Temple of the Condor with its underground passageway where, Willaru tells us, you go to meet your "egos" or fears. We shudder. A light rain begins to fall and we are free to wander for a few minutes.
I could spend lifetimes in this place, getting to know each passageway, each carved stone, and each temple. I could meditate here for hours and see and feel a presence that was almost palpable. But unfortunately, more practical matters interrupt my sojourn and we are called to meet for lunch before boarding the bus down to the town at the base of the mountains. How odd to sit and eat at a restaurant surrounded by mysticism and mystery.
The bus ride down to the town of Aqua Calientes is exciting -- a razorback dirt path etched into the hillside. Small boys run down the mountain singing and hollering for small change, jumping on the bus at every turn. We have to give them money for all that work! They are tricksters and after all the serious energy we are glad to laugh. Good thing we laughed, too, because when we arrive in the small, no-street, town the electricity is off and we have to wander to find a hot meal. Thankfully a small restaurant with a wood-fired oven is open and we dine on the most fantastic homemade pizza by candlelight. Delicious!
We make our way up to the hotel by flashlight (good thing I brought mine), noticing that the whole town is out socializing along with dogs, chickens, and various other wandering animals. The hotel is small but clean and I soon slip into a dreamless sleep.
Day 9 - December 17, 1997
This morning's treat is a quick dip in the hot springs above the town. The rain dampens our plans to visit Macchu Pichu once again, so instead Willaru shares with us the beliefs of his tradition. By lunchtime the rain has calmed, so we travel to the market and eat a fresh lunch of farmers cheese, flat bread, and the biggest avocados I've ever seen while sitting on a rock situated on the banks of the Urubamba river. Later we do a ceremony there with the entire group in which we are taught to release our entire past and create a new future. I throw away my old life without regret. I am never going to be the same.
The train ride back to Cuzco is uneventful. Back at the Caserona del Sol hotel we meet as a group and head out for dinner at a local restaurant where we are entertained by a Peruvian musical troupe. The flutes, pan pipes, and percussion have us dancing in no time and soon the entire second floor (plywood) is shaking under our feet. Life hardly seems real anymore. We are drifting from one magic moment to the next.
Day 10 - December 18, 1997
Long, long bus ride today. We are enroute to Puna, one stop closer to our next major destination. Today we will talk, sleep, and visit most of the day. The bus stops along the road for a short stretch break and we purchase "rigotta rellenos" from some little old ladies. The rellenos are a delicious mixture of veggies in a puff pastry thrown unceremoniously into a bag with a bunch of baby potatoes for our munching pleasure. Yum! This is the most authentic Peruvian food I've eaten since I've been here. I am ravenous for something that tastes so good and I down several of the treats as we proceed with our journey.
Puna is a crowded city with another central courtyard. We walk the narrow streets to the small gated entrance to our hotel, wander through the city until we find a pizzaria that will fit all of us, and then listen to one of the guys on the trip tell us off-color jokes until we are laughing so hard our sides feel as if they will split. The grounding is good.
