Machu Picchu Pre-trip to Amazon River Cruise Jan 23—29, 2010
Posted by Steve Hilty
Steve Hilty
Steve Hilty is the senior author of A Guide to the Birds of Colombia, and the recently published Birds of Venezuela, both by Princeton University Press. Other credits inclu...Related Trips
This short itinerary provides a dramatic contrast to the steamy lowlands and overwhelming biological diversity of the Amazonian cruise. This is a tour through high mountain valleys carved from powerful rushing rivers, a trip through high Andean grasslands and, most of all, a trip through history. It is, by all accounts, a region of colorful markets and of people dressed in distinctive and regionally varied clothing. Women carry babies wrapped in bright blankets on their backs. Men with broad sandal-clad feet, bent under heavy loads, move with a quick shuffling gait, all amidst majestic ruins, ancient terrace-rimmed valleys, and beside puna lakes shimmering beneath ultraviolet skies. This year our trip followed a week of some of the heaviest rains the region has experienced in more than half a century. And in just one day, our trip became an experience in improvisation.
January 24 (Sunday). Trip normal until we notice all early flights to Cuzco are delayed. Some cancelled. Our 9:30 departure also is soon delayed, then cancelled. Departure lounge is crowded. Hope springs eternal when delayed flights depart midday. We wait. Eat plastic-wrapped sandwiches and chips. At 3:30 p.m. it is our turn. Finally arrive Cuzco 5 p.m., reach hotel in Sacred Valley at 7 p.m. Fine. At least we arrived.
January 25 (Monday). Departing early we notice Río Urubamba is bank full. Misty rain all morning; birding good. Abra Malaga looks drenched. Late afternoon, Ana spots two condors over Ollantaytambo. Sky clearing. We notice Río Urubamba now overflowing its banks. Hundreds of evacuees are moving furniture and personal items to high ground. River washes against railroad tracks. Not good. Ana gets phone call. Multiple landslides destroyed railroad tracks downriver near Machu Picchu. All train trips suspended indefinitely. Evacuation of Machu Picchu tourists begins by helicopter. Near Urubamba hundreds line road banks to view high water dangerously close to bridges. Water over highway near hotel, but we continue. Adobe brick houses collapsing. We begin to worry. Hotel is at half-staff as workers leave to help families. I sleep well tonight. I am on second story.
January 26 (Tuesday). Leaden sky and light rain (again). Roads crowded with evacuees. Landslides everywhere. Road beyond Ollantaytambo closed; road upriver closed. We bird at hotel; depart mid-morning for Cuzco on only road still open, birding en route at Lago Huaypo and Chacán Reservoir. Arrive Cuzco 3 p.m. as city digs out from landslides, collapsed road banks etc. At least it is not raining.
January 27 (Wednesday). Beautiful morning at Laguna Huacarpay east of Cuzco. Flood devastation widespread at villages of Oropesa, Huacarpay, and Lucre. Flood victims gathered in clusters along roadsides. Water at or over road encircling lake. Fields and marshes flooded everywhere. Birds active and conspicuous and birding pleasant. Short afternoon trip with Ana to visit Inca ruins near Cuzco.
Undoubtedly, images of this distinctive land—its people, music, mountains, and wildlife—will be with you for years. So also will the sight of flood waters of the Río Urubamba, evacuees lining roadsides, collapsed houses, and anxious moments as we decide how to re-route our itinerary without its Machu Picchu centerpiece. The scenery was beautiful—snow on the cordillera above the Urubamba; rolling highlands checkered with green and yellow squares, roadside flowers, and rural life that continues largely unchanged for centuries. This was not the trip we expected, not the trip you expected. The weeklong rains were a once or twice a century event and we landed in the midst of the aftermath. What else can we say?