by Linda George
When they arrived at the train station in Aguas Calientes, a busboy from the Sumaq Hotel, where they’d be staying tonight, met them to take their luggage to the hotel.
Alex escorted them to a bus terminal where several buses were being boarded, providing transportation to Machu Picchu. Alex found their bus and helped them get on and settled in a group of seats near the front on both sides of the aisle. The commotion of people boarding the buses produced a roar of voices on top of the roar of the engines. Exhaust from idling buses made Lynn cough. Getting onto the bus was a relief. The driver fussed at slow boarders. He had a schedule to keep! They finally left the terminal with a jerk and headed up the mountain.
The road to the city was wide enough for only one bus at a time, but occasionally there would be a pull-out, either on the outside of the road, or the inside. The buses seemed to be timed perfectly, so one bus would pull over just before another barreled past. The next time, their bus would do the barreling while the oncoming bus pulled over.
“How many times a day to they make this trip?” BJ asked.
“It varies,” Alex told her. “Sometimes, they don’t time it just right because they’re late leaving Aguas Calientes. When that happens, someone has to back up to the closest pull-out. The drivers grumble a lot when that happens.”
Lynn strained to catch the first glimpse of the ruins. When she did, she pointed and told everyone to look! The glimpse was only that, though, followed in a minute or so by another glimpse. Excitement was building all through the bus as they got closer.
“We’re almost there,” Alex told her.
“A lifelong dream come true.”
“When we get there, we’ll get all of your passports stamped so you’ll have proof you were here. Then, we’ll start the tour of the city. It will be a long time before you and I have time to speak privately again. I want you to know what it meant for me when you came to my room last night.”
“I know. It meant as much to me.”
“Tonight…”
“No need to worry.”
“No matter what you hear about your mother?”
“No matter what. I wouldn’t wake up from this incredible dream for anything.”
He kissed her again quickly as the bus was braking to a stop in a parking lot.
“We’re here!” Sharon shouted.
They left the bus and followed Alex to a small table next to a stone wall with a passport stamp lying on top. No one was around to stamp their passports, so they took turns stamping their own. Then, Alex led the group toward the entrance to the city which was just past a restaurant and a small market jammed with people.
They entered Machu Picchu from the southeast corner of the city. Lynn’s first surprise was how large the city was. The classic view gave the impression that the city was small. She hadn’t expected the tour to take longer than a couple of hours. But the city was huge! That classic view must have been taken from miles away, from one of the peaks of the Andes to the north. Alex confirmed that was true.
“The tallest peaks around the city are in alignment with the most important part of Machu Picchu—the Intihuatana stone, which is the highest point in the city. We will see it today. It is believed the Inti stone was related to the Inca beliefs that corresponded with the cosmos—the Milky Way, the constellations, the sun and moon—all of which were related to the Inca religion. I’ll tell you more when we reach the stone.”
Alex took them from room to room, pointing out who had lived in each section of the city and showing them, along the way, the intricate system of canals that channeled water from the springs on the mountains on either side of the city, providing water for all the residents of Machu Picchu to drink, and to use for bathing, washing, and cooking. “The spring water collected in beautiful pools, fed by fountains. The engineering of their waterways is something modern engineers have studied to see how they were built and how effective they were at channeling not only the spring water, but also the torrential rains that fell each year during the rainy season. Engineers agree that the Inca waterway design is brilliant.”
Room by room, section by section, Alex pointed out the incredible construction and stone work. “The Inca had no written language, no iron tools, and did not even have the wheel. And, without this incredible system of canals and terraces to channel rainwater, the city would have washed down the side of the mountain centuries ago. The torrents of rain that fell watered the terraces, which were planted with more than enough food for the 800 to 1000 people who lived here, and the excess flowed into the Urubamba River, which curves around this mountain and is on three sides of Machu Picchu.”
“There have been earthquakes here, right?” BJ asked.
“Yes. The Inca stonework withstood being shaken, while Spanish colonial buildings built on top of Inca structures in Cusco, crumbled. What the Inca built has survived.”
During the day’s tour, Lynn climbed so many stone steps, she wondered why her legs hadn’t given out completely. But she hardly thought about all the steps. Machu Picchu! They were actually here! It wasn’t a dream!
They stopped occasionally to take photographs or to sit a few minutes and rest. Alex was “on duty” continually, answering dozens of questions from the group. There would be no private time for them while they were here. And no private tour for her.
Lynn wasn’t surprised to see hundreds of other people touring the city at the same time, and wished at times they could’ve had a private tour, just so she wouldn’t have to look around so many others at the incredible views within the city and in the mountains all around them.
When they got to the Queen’s Room, Lynn was astonished at how small it was. Yet, it was larger than any of the rooms occupied by the common people who lived in King Pachacutec’s version of Camp David. There was no sign of furniture in any of the rooms. Lynn guessed that beds, tables, and chairs had probably been made of wood, which rotted or was carried away over the centuries.
The King’s Room was larger, of course, and had a short hallway to an alcove the other rooms didn’t have.
“That smaller room was the King’s Bathroom,” Alex explained. “His room is the only one that has private accommodations.”
While they were in the King’s Room, Lynn overheard two teenage boys laughing when they heard Alex talk about the King’s Bathroom.
“I’ll give you $20 if you’ll—”
He saw Lynn staring at him with her sternest “teacher look” mixed with a generous amount of disgust. They left the room without another word.
Sharon came over and saw the “look.” “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just reminding a couple of morons how to behave.”
Eventually, they came to the Priest’s Room. “This room is larger than the King’s Room or the Queen’s Room!” Vicki said, surprised.
Alex nodded. “The Inca priest was a most important person for the people, and for the king and queen. He conducted all the religious ceremonies held in the city and was an advisor to the king in all things.”
Their next destination was one of the most important sites in the city. The Intihuatana. The Inti Stone, as it’s also called, stood at the highest point in Machu Picchu. Once they’d climbed a staircase with seventy-eight steps, they reached an open courtyard, then the famous stone.
Alex waited until everyone had gathered. “’Intihuatana’ means ‘the sun’s hitching post.’ The stone is perfectly aligned with the mountains surrounding the city, and with the sun on the equinoxes and solstices that occur each year. The stone’s shadow is precise on these important days. The corners of the stones are aligned perfectly with north, south, east and west.
“The Inti Stone was, in a way, an observatory, used to determine the right time to plant crops each year, and to determine the beginning and end of each season. Many people, even today, believe the stone possesses a supernatural power that can be felt when the stone is touched.”
“So,” Barb commented, “that’s why the area aro
und the Stone is roped off? Too many people were climbing on the stone?”
“Yes, and there’s been concern that millions of hands touching the stone will eventually wear it away. A film crew, making an advertisement, once broke into the site and set up their equipment here. A heavy piece fell on the Inti Stone and broke off a piece. Since then, security has been increased.”
Sharon shook her head. “Morons.”
Lynn couldn’t imagine anyone being so careless. Then she remembered the boys in the King’s Room. Some people simply didn’t understand how precious and sacred this city had been for the Inca, and how precious it still was for everyone who came to the top of this mountain to witness the skill of the Inca builders.
Sharon looked all around before leaning across the rope to touch the stone.
“Sharon! What are you doing?”
“Just wanted to soak up a little power!”
“Feel anything?”
“Try it yourself!”
Lynn glanced all around. The only one looking was Alex. She leaned over the rope and touched the stone quickly. Alex shook his head—and his finger—at her and smiled.
“I’m definitely feeling something.”
They wound their way across the Central Plaza to the Sacred Rock, which stood at the southern end of the city. Its shape mirrored the peak of the mountain directly behind it. “As you’ll see, this rock sits at the base of Huayna Picchu, the mountain seen in all the photos of Machu Picchu. This stone was essential to the city and was probably used in religious ceremonies. The fact that it mimics the mountain behind it shows that the Inca were very much in tune with the Andes and all parts of this special place.”
The group gradually made their way back to the bus to tide down the winding road to their hotel in Aguas Calientes. Lynn wished they could have stayed longer at Machu Picchu, but her knees had turned to rubber after all the climbing. On the way to the bus, she paused to take a last look at the city and all they’d seen.
Alex had been leading the group, but retraced his steps and came back to where Lynn stood.
“Is everything all right?”
She turned to him with tears in her eyes.
“Querida?”
“Being here is a miracle for me. I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“We’ll be back tomorrow.”
She circled his waist and held him close for a moment. Alex wished with all his heart she’d been talking about staying in Peru with him. He kissed her gently, tasting her salty tears.
Chapter 17
On the bus, Lynn closed her eyes and pictured all they’d seen, remembering how it felt to actually be at Machu Picchu. Not only did the Inti Stone possess power she imagined she felt in its presence, the entire city was imbued with a power that penetrated her heart and soul. She knew, without any doubt, that no matter how much time passed after her visit, she would be able to recapture the feelings, simply by closing her eyes and remembering the brief time she’d spent there.
Alex finally sat in the seat next to her, and she reached for his hand.
“What will we see when we come back tomorrow?”
“The best part of all—the whole city. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the Watch Tower, where you won’t believe your eyes.”
“I can’t imagine it being any better than today.”
‘It will be the best part of your tour. Tomorrow, you’ll see what you came to Peru to see. I promise we will experience it together.”
All the way to the hotel, Lynn felt she’d stepped into another world, and indeed, she had. The world of the Inca still held many mysteries, since so many of their temples, shrines, and practices had been destroyed. Machu Picchu had taken about fifty years to build, during the one hundred years the Inca Empire had reached dominance. Pachacutec ruled a huge area that stretched more than a thousand miles along the Pacific coast of South America. Cusco had been the “capital city” of the Inca Empire, but Machu Picchu reigned as the “crown jewel” of the Inca Empire. It was here that Pachacutec came with the royal family to rest and worship. He knew that eventually the Spanish would find the city and tear it down, just as they’d torn down most everything they’d found in Cusco.
Lynn knew the sorrow and regret Pachacutec must have felt, believing that the city he’d built would eventually cease to exist. But while it remained unknown to the invaders, it would’ve been a source of ultimate pride and a place where the Inca ruler could feel close to the mountains and the Earth and to the gods he and his people worshipped. Machu Picchu had remained a spiritual sanctuary since the 1500s. Lynn hoped with all her heart that it would remain a sanctuary forever.
The bus returned to the station in Aguas Calientes, then they went to the Sumac Hotel, where they felt immediately pampered.
They went to their rooms to change for dinner and check e-mail. A post from her father said they were still waiting to hear what the group of consulting doctors had to say about her mother’s test results.
Downstairs, in the restaurant, which was mostly empty except for their group, they agreed they had to have Pisco Sours to celebrate this truly awesome day.
Lynn wished for strawberry, but they had only the traditional Pisco. No matter. It was delicious.
The menu included cuy—guinea pig—which Lynn hadn’t seen on the menus they’d seen at other restaurants.
“What does cuy taste like, Alex?” Dorothy asked.
“It tastes like cuy!”
Lynn squeezed his arm. “I think she’s wondering if it tastes like chicken!”
Everyone laughed.
“No, not like chicken. And not like beef or pork, either. Some people think it tastes like rabbit, but cuy tastes like cuy.”
Lynn decided not to order cuy, but Sharon did. “I’ll give you a bite,” she promised.
As always, Lynn enjoyed everything, including the ceviche served in a large spoon. She didn’t have to check to see what Alex had ordered.
Vicki asked Alex what they’d see tomorrow and mentioned reading in the itinerary about two choices for hiking.
“Actually, you’ll have three choices,” he told everyone. “We’ll go to the Watch Tower, then you may hike to the Inca Bridge, or to the Sun Gate, where you can see not only Machu Picchu from a great distance, but also great views of the grandeur of the Andes.”
“What’s the third choice?” Lynn asked.
“To remain at the Watch Tower while the others go hiking.”
“That sounds good to me.” She gave him a smile with a question in it.
“Which way will you be going?” Barb asked Alex.
“Neither. My friends, who are expert guides, will be going with you on those hikes and answering questions.”
Lynn told Sharon, quietly, “I’m definitely staying at the Watch Tower!”
Vicki asked Alex, “Was this village named for Machu Picchu?”
“No one has ever known the real name of the lost city we now call Machu Picchu. There is a huge book written by the Spanish that mentions Pachacutec and a place called Picchu. The city was named for the village that was closest.
Their food arrived and everyone agreed not to ask more questions to allow Alex to enjoy his dinner and relax a bit from all the questions.
Sharon shared her cuy as promised with anyone willing to try it. Lynn had never had rabbit, so she couldn’t say if that’s what it tasted like. Cathi tried it and made an interesting face before declaring, “It tastes like guinea pig!”
Alex laughed and nodded. “I told you!”
After dinner, Lynn and Alex wandered along the walkway in front of the hotel. His arm around her shoulders felt safe, and the sound of the Urubamba River lulled them into a casual stroll. Lynn had always loved the sound of a stream or river. To her, it sounded like music.
“Any word yet about your mother?”
“Not yet. My dad is trying to stay calm while they wait for the test results. Until then, Mom will be resting while Dad tries not to think about how their lives have chang
ed.”
Crossing the bridge over the river into the village, they stopped halfway to watch the water rushing beneath them. She leaned against Alex, closed her eyes, and let the sound carry her away from worry and dread of what she might hear tonight.
“You know how much I wish, Querida, that I could wave my hands in the air and make your mother well again.”
“I know. It means a lot to me that you care.”
Alex turned her to face him. “I care for you more than I have ever cared for any woman—except my mother, of course.”
“Of course.”
Alex’s lips lightly stroked hers, then he took his time kissing her. He stroked her arms and back, and she marveled again at his gentle, soft touch and how he expressed his emotions so accurately with his fingertips—and his lips.
“Come back to the hotel with me,” he whispered, kissing her neck and shoulder.
She caressed his cheek and his lips to entice him back to her mouth. “Yes,” she whispered.
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Inside Alex’s room, he’d just closed the door when they heard a knock.
“Lynn! I got a post from your father! You have to see this!”
Alex opened the door to let Sharon come inside. She was carrying her laptop.
“I hate to interrupt, but you need to see this post!” She placed the computer on the table by the window, then stepped back. “The test results are in.” Sharon’s eyes were moist.
Lynn sat down and read the short post aloud. “Tests showed an aneurysm. They aren’t sure yet about treatment. If the aneurysm ruptures, it could be really serious. The neurologist is consulting with a surgeon and his team tonight to decide whether to treat the aneurysm with what the doctor called endovascular therapy, or whether they think a craniotomy is necessary to remove it completely. Your mom and I have complete confidence in these doctors. I know everything will be all right, no matter what they decide.’”
Lynn didn’t say anything after reading the post. She didn’t know whether to be relieved that it wasn’t Alzheimer’s, or more concerned because of the imminent danger an aneurysm posed.
Alex leaned down, crossed his arms around her shoulders, and kissed her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”