20,000 steps, 38 floors climbed—an impromptu walking tour of Cusco.
The forecast for the morning was cloudy. I had intended to climb up to the Incan ruins of Saqsaywaman, but had second thoughts. The afternoon would be clear. Did I want to see the architectural site under clear skies? Yesterday, the afternoon was beautiful. I could flip my original itinerary and visit Qorikancha (the most important temple in the Inca Empire) first, a short walk downhill from the hotel.
I got dressed and stepped out of the hotel.
And proceeded to climb up the mountain.
My first climb of the day.
I followed a similar path up from the day before, passing below the Mirador de Plaza Sán Cristobal and continuing up the mountain to one of the gates of Saqsaywaman. There was no one at the ticket office and so I continued up the hill, along the stream that runs under the aqueduct. Near the top the path branched; a wooden bridge spanned the stream, the following path leading to the Cristo Blanco that sits atop Pukamuqu.
Saqsaywaman.
Built by the Inca in the 15th century, the complex is a sprawling set of walls and foundations constructed of huge stones cut to fit together tightly without mortar. What remains are the stones that couldn’t be moved as Spaniards used Sacsayhuamán as a source of stones for building the governmental and religious buildings of the colonial city, as well as the houses of the wealthiest Spaniards.
The site was sparsely attended, with only a few large tour groups that had arrived by bus. Most of the people were couples or smaller groups of friends who had made the hike up from the city. I climbed up the terraces, dwarfed by the huge stones that made up the structure, until I made it to the main plaza. From there, there were views over the site on one side and out over the city on the other.
A woman sat at a single bench admiring the view. I stopped to take a photo and left her to her solitude. Just then, a group of tourists arrived and started chattering around her. She soon stood up and followed me as I wound my way around the ruins.
As I was coming to the far side, I turned to see a herd of alpaca that had been allowed to onto the fields. Tourists flocked to take photos with them as they grazed, unperturbed.
I took the long way around by the exit, following a path around the base of the site to a viewpoint marked by a cross that I had seen from the square. A couple sat in the grass, admiring the view. I retraced my steps and spotted my next stop, on an adjoining mount: the white statue atop Pukamuku.
Pukamuku.
It was a quick descent and ascent to the top of the next mountain, where I was greeted by the open arms of Cristo Blanco. A woman asked me to take her photo and we got to talking afterwards. She was from Lima and had been traveling for 10 days, most of which she had spent in a town two hours from Cusco partaking in an intensive modern dance course. Classes were all day from 8 in the morning.
From our viewpoint we could see demonstrations in the square. All day there had been the sounds protestors as agricultural workers and workers in the tourism and hospitality sectors, demonstrated for the government reduce inflation, implement agrarian reform, fight corruption, and revise government contracts with private companies. We watched from afar as the groups passed in front of the square, and then from view.
Q’enqo and the road home.
I walked the road to Q’euqo, up past Christo Blanco and further up the mountains. There’s little left of site; only the larger rocks that couldn’t be destroyed by the Spanish remain. I walked around what was left and then through a series of chambers where once animal sacrifices were performed on large slabs and altars shaped out of the rock.
A woman stood with her hands on the altar, eyes closed. Her guide stood off to the side. I gave her space and moved on.
From Q’enqo I followed the road back past Christo Blanco until I reached a steep set of stairs leading back to the square. When I reached the hotel I was exhausted from the morning. I decided to lie down for a moment and promptly fell asleep.
qorikancha.
In the afternoon I visited Qorikancha (The Golden Temple)—dedicated to Inti, the sun god, it was once the most important temple in the Inca Empire. Since then, Spanish colonists built the Convent of Santo Domingo on the site, demolishing the temple and using its foundations for the cathedral. But once the walls of the temple were covered in sheets of gold, and golden statues filled the courtyard.
In the basilica, I climbed to the top for the views into the courtyard and of the surrounding buildings, imagining what this town once might have been, when it was the capital of the empire.
Back on the street, I followed the main road south east until the next major intersection, curious to see a bit more of the city. I passed a beautiful mural showcasing the evolution of the Historical capital of Peru, starting with the Incas empire until the republican period. It’s considered the largest in Latin America and took the local. artist Juan Bravo Vizcarra nine months to complete.
From there, I set my sights homeward. I was to wake early in the morning to embark on a two-day tour of the Sacred Valley, culminating in Machu Picchu and decided to pack and make an early night of it. My legs could also use the rest. 🛕