The strikes and protests earlier in the week wreaked havoc on my plans. I had originally planned to visit Palccoyo—the other rainbow mountains—on Thursday, but the shift in my Machu Picchu plans meant that I’d be unable to go. Friday I already had plans and since my flight on Saturday was in the afternoon I’d be unable to go.

Already, Vinicunca—the more famous rainbow mountain—had proved inaccessible. Disputes amongst the villagers with respect to the collection of admission fees and taxes had closed that mountain to tourists until they could resolve the situation. Palccoyo was offered as an alternative; the hike was shorter and easier and you could see more than just one mountain.

On Wednesday, as we toured the Sacred Valley, a thought occurred to me. I texted the tour operator to see if I could join a tour of Palccoyo on Saturday. The operator said there was availability; I’d be back in Cusco by 18:00, and they could drop me at the airport. I thanked them and started looking at flights. I found a low-cost airline with flights leaving at 20:00 and solidified my new plan.

Breakfast.

At 06:00 I was loaded into a van. We drove around the city picking up a few more people before we parked in an alley. We were lead up a small side street into a large courtyard where long tables had been set up. Breakfast consisted of bread, thin omelettes, and bananas.

The guide told us that it would be cold at the mountain due to the elevation and that we should have hats and gloves. He told us we should bring chocolates or other snacks for the hike. He also told us there were local remedies for altitude sickness, including a blend of medicinal herbs that could be inhaled.

I found it odd that he was telling us all of these this morning, after we had already been collected—the knowledge would have been more useful had it been offered before we left. And then it became clear as he motioned to a table laden with hats, gloves, chocolates, and elixirs. I bought a few chocolate bars and went outside to wait for everyone else to collect.

Kilometers to go.

It was a three hour drive to the mountain, first on a sealed road, and then on a winding dirt roads. We passed through valleys and villages, finally passing one that served as a checkpoint to the mountain. Villagers sold snacks and drinks through the window as we waited for our paperwork to check out. I thought we were close, but there was still a ways to go on the slow dusty roads.

When finally we reached the beginning of the trail, we parked along the side of the road along with a number of identical mini-vans. Our guide told us we were the group of friends, and that we were to stick together, though as soon as we started walking he told me and a group of Polish tourists that we could walk on ahead. We were clearly going to set the pace.

It was a 45 min hike to the main view point, and then we had the option of walking back the way we came or to climb further through a stone forest to make a loop of it. We stopped at the first viewpoint to let the group catch up. When the guide saw us he motioned us onwards.

At the main viewpoint, I was awed by the striations in the mountain, caused by layers of minerals that have been exposed due to melting snow and glaciers in the Peruvian mountains. I had lowered my expectations, assuming that the photos posted online were generally heavily edited, but seeing the mountains and the colors for myself proved to be an awesome experience.

The viewpoint was windy and cold and the guide told us that we could climb up through the stone forest if we wanted to. We didn’t have to wait for the group and could meet everyone back at the bus. I took his words to heart and continued to climb for new and different views of the mountains and valleys around us.

The day was overcast, but now and again the sun would break through and illuminate the landscape around us. As I climbed I looked back and around to watch as people hiked the paths to and from the viewpoint. Here and there villages held alpaca for photos. Some provided traditional clothes you could dress in for the photos.

I was the first back at the bus. I woke the driver from a nap when I opened the door. He made himself busy while I took a nap of my own.

Once everyone had arrived, we began the slow trip back down the mountain. At one point, after reaching the main road, we paused to look at a rope bridge. We weren’t allowed to cross it, and it was unclear why we stopped.

Later, over a buffet lunch, Patrick told me that the bridge had been constructed using the traditional Incan techniques. They didn’t do a great job explaining it, he said. No, they did not.

He was a chef, and as we ate he told me that Peruvians generally ate lentils on Mondays as it was thought to bring good fortune (we had both piled our plates with lentils from the buffet). He also described the various cultures that had come and informed Peruvian food. The various influences were what made the food so special he said: the original food of the indigenous peoples, the Spanish influence, the Chinese and, after, the Japanese.

He was surprised I hadn’t tried chifa yet, and told me that there was a small Chinatown I should check out when I’m back in Lima. He told me that while the best dim sum he’d had was in New York, you could get good dim sum in Lima. I was excited to try.

Our final stop was overlooking a lake en route back to Cusco. The guide gathered us all for a photo before ushering us back onto the bus for the last leg of our ride back to the city. It wasn't quite clear to me what the significance of the lake was, either.

I had said goodbye to Cusco the day before, spending the afternoon at the cafe and art gallery Xapiri Ground, which had become my favorite cafe in the city, and then dining at a loungey restaurant overlooking the city in the neighborhood of San Blas.

The tour dropped me off at the airport, and as much as I was looking forward to returning to Lima, I wished that I had pushed my flight a day rather than just an afternoon. I wanted to spend another morning at the cafe, another evening in the square, another afternoon watching the red tiles turn gold with the colors of the setting sun. ⛰