Incas and Yanks

So the end of chapter 3 was almost upon us. We had shivered through Chile, ridden the length and bredth of Argy, bundled through Bolivia, nipped into Uruguay and chilled in Brazil. Peru was the final stop and with thoughts of the roasting sun in Spain we legged it straight to Cusco and headed straight for the big one. No point pissing around, it was Machu Picchu and those talked about Inca ruins we were after a glimpse of and as soon as we arrived at our family run guest house it was time to book the train up to the ruins and go and see the bugger.


Now I didn't realise it was a 4 hour train ride to get to this sacred place, it makes you wonder how the bloody Incas got up there in the first place, I mean I'm not overly sure the trains were running back in those days and this place is so high up you're virtually kipping in the clouds. But the train ride was painless and gave you time to sit and watch the world go by, admire the beauty of this land and have a good panoramic look at the tourist mecca that is Cusco.

Every man and his dog had decided to see Machu Picchu this day and I was a bit surprised how many of the buggers were American, and I mean stereotypical brash, baseball cap wearing, salad dodging, I love Peru T-Shirt wearing folk. They were everywhere and there was just no getting away from them. Now don't get me wrong through my travels and meeting many of our migratory cousins along the way I had changed my views on the US and would go so far to say I was actually developing a liking for them but my god was this view to change over the next 8 hours.

Allow me to state this first, Machu Picchu is gorgeous, the Inca ruins are amazing and there is no doubt that this is truly one of the greatest works of the human hand I have and will ever see. But imagine seeing this and almost every 10 yards the view being spoiled by a chubby yank shouting "Honey get one of me and the Llamas", You want fries with that tubby? I'm telling you I half expected to see the golden arches up there. It put a bit of a dampener on the day and clarified that the only way to see this and truly enjoy it is to do the 4 day Inca Trail which was something that we did just not have the time and money to do and also something that needs to be booked at least 3 months prior. Booking 3 days prior is tricky enough so you can guess that this option was never likely to be a path I would be following.

Post Picchu we headed off to Lima desperate to get to the sun and sand of Spain and after being refused a standby flight on day one, we managed to get one the day after giving us 11 days to chill in Spain and try our damndest to get back to England with at least a little bit of colour in the cheeks.