Huancacalle - Pampaconas - Nigrepay - Ututu - Vista Alegre - Espiritu Pampa Archaeological Monument: 03/08 - 05/08

Part 3 - Stubborn as a mule

Day 9

I awoke to the sound of gentle rain on my tent, which caused me to think of the classic Beastie Boys sample, `Well if it`s gonna be that type of party I`m gonna stick my dick in the mashed potato! ` as I had up until that point avoided the extra weight created by hiking with a wet tent. That being the case I swiftly removed my tent pegs and transferred undercover to pack it away.

After a farewell breakfast with Apo, a local hero who put me up with grace even though I couldn`t pay him much and shared his space and food. He warned me of a paro (strike) in the province where I was headed and I knew from the Pisac strikes that it didn`t just mean a day off work... But I`d come so far, this was the trek of my life really and I wasn`t going to let that stop me. The day before I`d been blessed by another local angel who`d sold me 10 chocolate and peanut bar (very important rations) for 70c each at 6 soles... and they`re worth 1.20c. Cheers. I made good time uphill in the on/off drizzle with a coffee under my belt, a much more manageable pack and rejuventaed energy. The area was decidedly more Christian than around Cusco and the Valley and I passed much paraphenalia dedicated to the Man who was a man unlike any other manly man.

This path took me up through misty eucalypt forest reminiscent of Taswegia and on and off the main road to Vilcabamba. I stopped to rest under a shrine and a thundering new ute stopped to let me alight into the tray. Whoo hoo! Lift to Vilcabamba! But the journey was quite rapid and I didn`t have enough clothes on so by the time we arrived I was rather cold. The driver worked for the council and spoke English to a degree, so was of course keen to try it out. Through this I discovered they were continung on to Pampaconas, my destination for the day... so get back in! Yeah! Even after layering up more I was still cold and uncomfortably numb clinging desperately to the tray as we wound up and down from the 3400m Pampaconas Pass in freezing rain. After a total of around 2hrs in the ute we arrived at the small and filthy town, where I wolfed down some energy food, exchanged a goodbye and muchas gracias for vague directions with Warner and friends (in his words, `not the rich Warner like Warner Bros., the poor one.... ha hah ha`) and set my sights on Vista Alegre with the aim of cutting a day off the trek.

I checked my map and guide notes and followed the most likely route out of town for an hour our so, holding my altitude but unable to confirm if I was on the right path due to there being no-one around stupid enough to be out in the unusual winter rain. When I was desperate enough I hollered to a smoky farmhouse and after being told I was lost was persuaded up to their tiny house to share a mouthful of coca, dirt-and-all boiled potatoes, a slightly alcoholic sweet mate and pleasantries before getting down to business. By this stage I was actively looking for opportunities to offload my salty balls and did so. The very gracious people of Nigrepay were firstly surprised at my age and then at the fact I didn`t speak Quechua. They drew me a map on a piece of cardboard and one of them guided me back down from whence I came to the start of a short cut which was, funnily enough, at a fork in the path where I`d considered heading downhill in search of the main path. I thanked him with oranges and busted downhill, eager to make up for a lost hour. Soon things got difficult as I knew I was supposed to follow the creek but fences and thick cloud forest were rather in my way. I needed to precariously cross the creek and then bush bash through two sections of scrub - the first was a serious mission but the second was just ridiculous. I got caught up, scratched and almost fell a few metres into the creek only to be saved by vines. Soon after I found the relief of the wide main path folowing the Inca trail - these guys knew how to make a trekking path, that`s for sure.

The fog enveloped the cloud forest to create an amazing atmosphere as I followed the River of Many Local Names past picturesque Ututu and its inviting cabins and smoking chimnies towards Espiritu Pampa. But I couldn`t stop as I needed to smash it if I was to arrive at Vista Alegre by nightfall. Agriculture started to become more prominent as I descended - I passed a large clearing of recently burnt rainforest on the steep hillside where people were planting corn. This seemed a little silly to me in this perfect environment for subtropical fruits. The men fulfilled their duties of requesting that I give them money by suggesting I wouldn`t make Vista Alegre that afternoon and that I should stay with them (this wasn`t the last time this occurred with the campesinos of course). At 230pm, I thought not, and continued down past more farms on my side of the river and gorgeous rainforest and spectacular waterfalls on the other. Eventually I made it to the greenness of the Vista, being a shack, toilet, school/everything building and a full-size soccer pitch. Tired and wet but happy to be a day ahead I quickly set camp as the light faded and fell asleep to the rushing river, waking in the night to see fireflies.

Day 10

I woke, packed and left early before any locals could ask me for camping fees. The path continued along the river but this day climbed higher while the river dropped lower. The vegetation was evolving into subtropical rainforest, marked by more vines, large leaves, strangler figs, bigger trees and a generally junglier feel. There were lots of beautiful flowers, leaves, insects and loads of birds. I disturbed a bunch of raucous birds that seemed like quetzals and also a group of quail-like ground birds that sounded like guinea pigs. I also maintained my vitamin levels with the occasional scoffing of wild blackberries. Despite an overall drop for the day there were lots of strenuous ups and slight more downs. The stress of my finances weighed heavily on me along with my pack and I wasn`t in the best shape mentally. I soon emerged from the initial virgin rainforest to more of the repulsive slash and burn farms which absolutely destroyed the hydrology, essentially robbing all the water for that zone. Some cultivated areas were insanely steep and I figured those people must have been very desperate to live there. The Inca path had disappeared by now and the local effort at track making and maintenance at times left a lot to be desired.

I was very frustrated at constantly having to up and down, but it was a lovely temperature and I was in the rainforest, my favourite place. Despite the destruction of the creeklets of the mountains by the farming I encountered enough beautifully alive rainforest water to drink myself well again - I was also back to a very healthy appetite and churned through my provisions with gusto. I eventually came to the ruins of a lookout post, met local nurseryman Sedillo and as we descended down an amazing set of restored Incan stairs he opined that there was no 30 soles entry fee for the ruins... my interest was piqued. I met Americo the local shop owner/Government representative for the ruins and we all shared tea and coca. They spoke of the paro that by now was almost two weeks old in Quillabamba. Well, what could I do¿ I was feeling very tired, stressed and miles from home, but I`d made it! I wasn`t going to turn back now and anyways, I had some sleeping to do, so I set camp amongst the chooks, sheep, dogs, forest birds and some complete turkeys and crashed it.

Day 11

I woke, packed and stored my big pack at a house before the seriously official (naaaaaht!) registry at the shop including having to draw up the tables in a new registry book myself. I marched through locals` coffee and banana farms to a junglier section and came to a strong wooden gate. On the path into Espiritu Pampa I saw some hacked vegetation and stones which were ruins in the process of clearance and restoration - intersting. And then I arrived. Espiritu Pampa (or Vilcabamba Viejo, from the Quechua Willkapampa, or Sacred Plain) was a city founded by Manco Inca in 1539 and was the last refuge of their empire until it fell to the Spaniards in 1572, signaling the end of Inca resistance to Spanish rule. After its fall, the city was burned, the area swiftly became engulfed in jungle and the location of Vilcabamba was forgotten by the Europeans. The first outsiders in modern times to come to the remote forest site that has since come to be identified with Espiritu Pampa were three Cuzqueños: Manuel Ugarte, Manuel Lopez Torres, and Juan Cancio Saavedra, in 1892. (wiki)

The main plaza of the ruins, some 5 hectares, was dominated by a large reconstructed hall with grass roof and indeed that entire space reminded me of a kind of Valhalla for the Incas - rainforest giants towered above a pampa containing the remains of square buildings, typically impressive Incan terraces and self-seeded coffee plants while a myriad of birds kriss-krossed. A huge carved and sacred "Vilca" stone featured on the lower plaza and there were a few different levels and many separated sections obviously with various intencions - but it certainly wasn`t as diverse nor visually grandiose as Macchu or Choque... this was a city designed to be hidden. I chewed coca (and off-loaded balls) with two vigilantes (caretakers :) who told me that monkeys used to be here in good numbers but had been pushed back to the jungle proper with the felling of most of the trees in the inicial stages of the restoration.

Fortunately the restorers had left many of the large figs and other trees as centrepieces for the site, but unfortunately they had gone the hack with not much finesse on much of the remaining vegetation. This was the coolest part for me - seeing the way that the rainforest had taken over the ruins in what I imagine to be reminiscent of Ankhor Wat¿. Beads of dew accentuated the various fungii, lichen and moss growing on the rocks. A short walk to the Palace of the 14 Ashlars revealed what I`ve just described - A massive fig sprawling all over strong ruins still well intact - the actual palace contained 14 altars inset into the walls of a small shrine-like building. I explored the rainforest a little myself in the hope of finding some undiscovered ruins but to no avail. I spent a great morning there, it was a beautiful experience - towards the end of my visit I spotted the striking red form of an Andean-Cock-Of-The-Rock who apparently make nests throughout the site.