Machu, Machu man
View in awe the footprint of antiquity that is Machu Picchu from the summit of its guardianlike mountain, Huayna Picchu, writes.
The remains of Peru’s mysterious Inca civilisation attract increasing numbers of travellers. Watching television documentaries in the comfort of one’s home can’t match the thrill of witnessing clouds swirl around the ruins of Machu Picchu and its companion mountain, Huayna Picchu.
During the rainy season Huayna Picchu plays hide and seek, as if to reinforce its legendary status. Sometimes mist covers the peak but then sunlight will pierce the clouds to reveal the mountain’s distinctive outline. In ancient times, Machu Picchu’s inhabitants worked and played under the shadow of Huayna Picchu’s changing moods.
But man’s activities in central Peru have changed remarkably since Incan times. In 1911, the American archaeologist Hiram Bingham rediscovered the so-called ‘‘lost city’’, and the first tourists started to arrive. Now 400 people climb Huayna Picchu daily and up to 5000 swarm over the Machu Picchu ruins at its base.
On the morning of my climb, I caught a 5am bus from nearby Aguas Calientes. Wide awake after an inspiring bus journey, I wandered through Machu Picchu’s entry gate and discovered a damp city gleaming in the sun’s early rays. Llama grazed the central plaza, as they would have done in times gone by.
Having picked my way past stone temples and irrigation channels, I was surprised to find people already queuing at the Huayna Picchu track. Perspiring with exertion, they represented every continent except Antarctica.
With time to kill, I returned to the Machu Picchu ruins and searched for wildlife: a lizard sunned itself, a huge black ant and a tiny hummingbird sipped Bromiliad flower nectar. Back at the gate the visitors’ book revealed that three Australians were ahead, though I was never to hear their twang among mostly Iberian accents.
When viewed from a distance, the climb appears steep… almost vertical, and one wonders where a track could safely go. But the Incans established a good route to the top, sometimes carving steps into bedrock. The track follows a short ridgeline before climbing steadily to the summit.
Today, wire ropes provide security on steep pitches and also where huge drop-offs might dizzy the light-headed. On the few tiny areas of level ground, climbers gathered to admire the impressive panoramas.
You wouldn’t expect agriculture on Huayna Picchu’s forbidding terrain, yet the Incas built farm terraces near its summit. Their gardens overlooked vast valleys, and a stumbling farmer would have disappeared forever.
At the top, I clambered up a short wooden ladder on to a large boulder already occupied by young adventurers. New climbers kept arriving while a pair of entrepreneurial sparrows scavenged around designer shoes, shorts and shirts. And far below, Machu Picchu shone like an oasis in the dark rainforest.
The mountain easily accommodates its daily allocation of climbers but there was one bottleneck and I had to wait while several people wriggled through a three-metre cave crawl. The last man, dressed in a business suit and wearing a gold watch, seemed unfazed.
During the descent, one has to tread carefully because a fall would have nasty consequences; so wherever possible I gripped the guide ropes that reassure the less nimble. Two days earlier, a 65-year-old, having reached the summit, collapsed. Guides carried his body off the mountain speculating on why he’d died.
Because my trail companions had travelled thousands of kilometres to ‘‘knock the bastard off’’, they lingered to enjoy their adventure and no doubt pondered upon the ancient Incan occupation. But unlike Hilary and Tensing, who’d conquered untrodden rock and snow, we followed in the steps of thousands. And like those who had gone before, we viewed with awe the footprint of antiquity spread out below.