Cusco en Caballo
Trip Start
May 11, 2006
1
6
15
Trip End
May 21, 2006
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Cusco,
Peru
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Cusco en Caballo
Early rising today, just like every day. After an adequate continental breakfast at the hotel to start our day off, we collect our things ready for the horseback ride through the surrounding ruins of Cusco. We have hats, long sleeved shirts, long trousers and plenty of sun block. At 11,000 ft. in the Tropics, the sun is all powerful compared to our pampered sea level experiences. We have everything, that is, except our camera. After our loss in Buenos Aires last year, we had purchased another digital camera. Now the camera is missing again, and no amount of scrabbling around produces the contraption. It looks like we will have to rely on our fellow companions for our photographic record this trip, just as we had to rely on Cecilia's in Argentina. At least there are three other cameras this time
1. Setting off
. The van comes by to pick us up right on time, and we meet our guide and driver who will accompany us for the next few days, Don Antonio Mendoza. He will become our friend, and will force us to much greater physical exertion than we had initially envisioned. And it starts with the horseback ride.
The van takes us down past the railway station. Here we make a brief stop to try to pick up our tickets for the train trip on Tuesday to Machu Picchu, but the authorities are adamant. Tickets are only issued the day prior to travel to avoid resale and black market.
We continue on past the airport, with the Cusco ruins getting further and further behind us. I'm beginning to realize that we will have to ride an awfully long way to get back to Cusco. When we finally arrive at the stables, all the horses are ready and waiting for us. We select our mounts and saddle up ready for action. Most of us have ridden before, with the exception of Karen. This will be her first time. This is not going to be ride around the plaza on a tranquil pony. Our steeds started biting and kicking each other as soon as we set off, until we finally get into the correct pecking order
2. Into the Hills.
. From here on, unless someone passes when they shouldn't, the horses get on reasonably well with each other. We are soon moseying along a dirt road through lovely green farmland surrounded by steep hills. Wild flowers abound. The horses want to eat and drink at every opportunity, preferring a yellow flower looking a bit like lantana. We could never be compared to the US cavalry! In a short while we leave the road and plod on by narrow footpaths beside the fertile fields. It's a glorious ride, and we are all enthralled by the scenery. About an hour after departure, we pass by a series of ancient terraces and some unnamed ruined structures on a hillside. The path climbs sharply now and we reach a plateau. Here we come across a group of cyclists in tight Lycra looking like multicoloured sausages topped off with helmets the shape of insects' heads. We are not sure who has the right of way on these narrow paths, but the horses have no such doubts, and carry on as if the cyclists didn't exist.
It's now two hours since we started, and the only ruins we have seen are the terraces an hour ago. Making a steep descent from the plateau to the floor of a valley, we espy a much larger collection of ancient constructions, seemingly carved out of solid rock. It is here we are permitted to dismount and take a break
3. The Shepard
. We have been using muscles we never thought existed, and it's agonizing just to walk around. We lie down. A couple of us snooze, others wander around the ruins. To one side is a flock of sheep with a young shepard. A clear stream runs through the spot and the grass is as green as green can be. A pretty idyllic setting. Had we known there would be two more hours of riding, we might well have stayed here for ever.But all good things must end, and we remount to climb the other side of the formidably steep gorge. Karen's horse has decided now to be the leader of the pack, and our little novice rider, is up front, with the rest of the group straggling behind. The countryside is still beautiful, but is beginning to pall as our body parts become increasingly tender, especially our legs and rear ends. We hadn't expected quite such an odyssey, though the long drive earlier that morning should have hinted at the extent of the expedition.
We finally arrive at a major ruin, which no one seems to remember the name of. We dismount and totter on our aching limbs around a large amphitheatre to a knoll with fissures and tunnels. Nearby a small group of chattering Quechua ladies are sitting offering wood carvings. We ask if they have water for sale, but they only have souvenirs. Finally a bright little girl rushes over to the tiny village store and brings back bottled water. One of the ladies is peeling carrots, presumably for an evening meal. We purchase all her carrots and those we can't eat, we save for the horses. She thinks we are quite mad!
On the way to the next set of ruins, we stop at a local shop and buy every orange they posses, as well as a few sad looking apples, and apricots as hard as rocks.
