March 9, 2004
Aguas Calientes, Peru

Here in aguas calientes, the last town before Macchu Pichu,  life happens on an incline.  The main concrete path through town has both steps and a smooth section for men pulling dollies and wheelbarrows with goods up the steepness.  All deliveries come by foot, many on the backs of women cradled in a simple piece of cloth tied in front... cargo of cuy (guinea pig), potatoes, sugar, rice... anything that the restaurants or hostels that dominate the landscape here might want.  In between, children roll balls up and down the incline to squeals of delight, toddlers hold on to the tails of mother's jackets for a little extra pull up the hill, men with heavy loads struggle up, serious and straining, only to return minutes later... the easy descent full of lighthearted humor and mischief.

This is the typical 3rd-world tourist village at the apex of some major planetary attraction.  It is the Namche Bazaar of Nepal, the Dharamsala of India, the Phuket of Thailand, the Cabo San Lucas of Mexico.  Locals swarm to serve the influx, and struggle to do so in a manner appealing to an average demographic which lies confusingly between nappy-headed, nose-ring sporting youngster backpackers and more staid german and english seniors--enjoying perhaps their last exotic vacation.  Bob Marley plays incessantly, bottles of red wine feature hopefully in the center of every table setting.  The high season over-population of nearly 250,000 tourists in June drives the hyper-development of an extraordinary number of establishments... all roughly equivalent, while the low season provides less-than-nothing for most... a barely manageable subsistence.  The tourist learns to walk with head slightly down, eyes somewhat averted in order to simply manage some degree of inner peace amongst the low-season clamor of solicitation.  Accomodations can be had for next to nothing.  This is a town bursting at the seams, near the limit of what the tiny valley walls can manage.

I left Jesse in a parking lot in Cusco.  Aguas Calientes and Machupicchu are served from Cusco only by train.  The narrow valley that serves them can barely squeeze the train tracks in many places next to the raging river.  But the choice of train also serves to keep access completely regulated and totally tarriffed.  I'm not complaining tho... I am a big fan of trains.  This one is pleasant, and affords a stunning view of the main approach to Machupicchu through the sacred valley... though the ruins themselves can only be seen after a short hike or bus trip to the top of a nearby mountain.