The Road to Aguas Calientes

The fourth morning started in a strange way for camping.

The start of Ruben's happy birthday.

Flavio somehow made two birthday cakes and delivered them to our dining tents during breakfast. One of the women in the other group was celebrating her birthday that day, and Ruben’s happy birthday was going to be at Machu Picchu the following day. It was a brilliant way to start the day, and it was a kind final gesture by Flavio and his helpers, who would be heading home after lunch. I’ve said it before, but the meals they created while camping were simply amazing. Wayki Trek is lucky to have Flavio. I know we were lucky that he joined us for the week.

The early part of that day’s hike wound along a dirt road, past a pig farm, over switchbacks up a cliff and again along a dirt road all the way to Hidroelectrica, where our lunch was waiting for us (as well as a train ticket to Aguas Calientes, if we chose not to hike the final few hours).

The sun was beating down, and there wasn’t much shade anywhere around. About an hour into the hike, a bus flew by us with the people inside yelling out. It was the other group.

Apparently, there was a fourth option that we didn’t consider. That group decided to hike about 15 minutes from the hot springs into town and caught a bus all the way to Hidroelectrica. In retrospect, it probably was the best option. We were slugging water almost constantly, but we were all pretty much dragging during the final 90 minutes into lunch. Ruben even tried to flag down a few buses, but all of them refused our offers.

The trail from Hidroelectrica to Aguas Calientes

The train to Aguas Calientes wasn’t going to leave until about 3:45, which would have meant 3-4 hours of waiting. And Ruben assured us that the 2-3 hour hike was beautiful.

He wasn’t lying. Our first view up to Machu Picchu was about 15 minutes into the hike. The route followed the train tracks, but walking allowed us to take it in. A river rushed by on one side, and mountains rose all around us.

It was also very well shaded, giving us a much needed reprieve from the sun.

Unfortunately, one of our fellow hikers had caught a bout with bad water and looked somewhat miserable.

Ruben suggested that she find a quiet place off the trail to take care of some business (or “make an offering to the mountain,” as we had been phrasing it all week). She seemed hesitant until he said, “Would you rather go behind a bush or go poo poo in your pants?” We waited as she ducked off the trail.

I felt like I was straight out of a zombie movie as I dragged myself the final miles into Aguas Calientes at the base of Machu Picchu Mountain.

We’d finally made it to town. And hot showers. And a comfortable bed.

The hotel was nice, even if it was a little strange. Our room was on the third floor, overlooking the river. The staircase was slanted slightly backward like something out of Alice in Wonderland. And a view up the stairs to the fourth floor showed that there was no fourth floor. It was a construction zone. So much for the penthouse suite.

Our group of nine gathered for one last dinner together, followed by a trip to a dance club for a drink to celebrate Ruben’s birthday.

Throughout the week, Ruben had been preaching that the nine of us were a familia, and it really did feel like that. Originally, his point was that things happen along the trail that require everyone to stick together, whether it’s because the trail itself gets dangerous or one of suffers from illness or there is an injury that slows someone down. Our familia was sticking together and helping each other. It was a good group from the beginning, but Ruben really helped bring us closer together.

The penthouse suite at our hotel.

The familia wanted to celebrate Ruben, but the night had to end early. Our alarm clocks would be buzzing soon. The bus to Machu Picchu left at 5:30 a.m.