The couple at the table next to us at breakfast seem to be drinking wine. It’s only just gone 7am and their wine glasses are half full with a golden liquid. I know we’re not averse to the odd tipple now and again, but chardonnay for breakfast? Our waiter soon informs us that they’re not in need of AA but sipping on chilled coca water instead, a tip we follow along with a pot of hot coca tea for good measure. We also tuck into quinoa cereal and corn tamales with poached eggs and guacamole, preparing us for a full day’s sightseeing ahead.
Driving through the Sacred Valley
We’re collected by a driver at 8.15am who returns us to Pisac at somewhat alarming speed where we are transferred to a minibus to join a day trip around the Sacred Valley. It’s led by a tour guide called Adriel who treats us all like schoolchildren, regularly imploring us to stay together and giving very precise timing instructions, and lengthy lectures on Incan history.
The poor guy in front of us, Jason – a fresh-faced chap from Toronto barely out of his teens – spends the whole tour white as a sheet, frequently throwing up. He and his girlfriend Tina arrived into Cusco last night, but didn’t descend to a lower level to acclimatise, and he’s now suffering from altitude sickness, feeling and looking miserable. He clutches a plastic bag between his knees for most of the journey.
Outside ancient Pisac
Leaving the streets of modern Pisac, we climb high into mountains, past terraced fields cut into the hillsides, arriving at the old Inca settlement of Pisac, where masses of tourbuses are already parked. We slap on the factor 50 as not only is it hot outside, but at this altitude the sun is exceptionally strong. It’s also obvious that exertion at a normal level is going to be tough as within seconds of climbing steps up into the ruins, we’re feeling breathless and light headed.
After Adriel’s introductory, but mostly remonstrative talk, we all walk up to the old brick buildings at the top of the hill. They are storehouses for the noble houses we can see in the distance, but Adriel informs us we most certainly do not have time to explore the noble houses as the clock is ticking and he expects us all back at the minibus in 35 minutes flat. We huff and puff our way around the ruined storehouses and drink in the phenomenal views of mountains and old agricultural terraces.
Entering Pisac ruins
Back in Pisco town we’re taken to a silver workshop for an unwanted demonstration of metallurgy but Coman and I slip away from Adriel’s gaze and head into the markets, buying cushion covers for the bedroom and a ridiculously OTT gold mirror we obviously don’t need, and have no idea how we’ll transport back to the UK.
Once Adriel has rounded us all up again, we drive back along the road to Urubamba, seeing rainbow flags fly from buildings and painted on to the walls. Alex had explained yesterday that the seven coloured rainbow flag is the civil symbol of Cusco and proudly displayed throughout the region, and not used to celebrate “’omosexuals” as the six-coloured flag is elsewhere. We pass the turn off to our hotel and about five minutes later pull into the Tunupa Valle Sagrado Restaurant for a pretty decent buffet lunch along with lots of other coach parties.
A very strict 50 minutes later - according to Adriel’s watch - we’re all loaded back on board the bus and drive the short distance to the town of Ollantaytambo. One of the most important Inca settlements in the Sacred Valley it sits between three mountains and is home to spectacular ruins, huge terraces and an abandoned temple to the sun god at its zenith. Surrounding the town are old Inca watchtowers and carved into the rock of the mountains is the face of Veracocha, the creator god along with a second profile that catches the sun exactly on June 21st. It’s hugely impressive and after Adriel concludes his passionate description of life here, we’re free to wander for a short while and explore the vast ruins.
View across modern Ollantaytambo
It’s the final stop of the day and we’re delivered back to our hotel at 4.30pm, just in time for a glass of wine in the hot tub with another quartet of Americans, this time almost 20 years younger than us. Celebrating lead girl, Breezy’s 30th birthday with a trip to Peru where her fiancé is teaching, the pair of them and their friends from NYC and Denver, are doing the same circuit as us but after Machu Picchu are heading north to Iquitos and the Amazon rather than tracking south to Lake Titicaca as we are. Wine flows and stories are shared until the sun has set and the chill of dusk starts to be felt.
Once suitably dressed for dinner, Coman and I dine at Sol Y Luna’s Rancho Wayra restaurant, set in stables deep in the grounds. Run by the same chef as Killa Wasi it has a different menu, again showcasing great vegetarian dishes made with local, organic ingredients. We have a basket of yucca crisps and an amuse bouche of mashed potato, sour cream and mushroom on a balsamic reduction, followed by salads of fava bean, cauliflower, broccoli and tomato, and smoked goat’s cheese and beetroot. Both are wonderful. Mains of pumpkin ravioli and sage butter and mushroom risotto with crunchy vegetables don’t disappoint and nor does the ballsy bottle of Argentinian syrah, or the petit fours we are given to finish the meal.
Climbing the ruins at Ollantaytambo
Our waiter for the evening is a very sweet young Venezuelan man called Alexander who has escaped the collapsing economic disaster of his homeland and is building a life and career for himself in Peru. Having worked his way around a number of top hotels in the country over the past eighteen months, his resilience, determination and optimism are so inspiring that I run back to our bungalow to give him an extra tip.
It’s a small drop in a bottomless ocean, but a chance to count our blessings once more.
