Machu Picchu and a disastrous backpacking trip

Pictures-https://picasaweb.google.com/109164353544358903729/Ecuador

"The distinguishing mark of true adventures, is that it is often no fun at all while they are actually happening."

After over 30h in the bus (I didn't know busses that long existed) we arrived in Cusco, the gringo capital of South America due to Machu Picchu. Cusco is a beautiful city, with cobble stone roads and the houses are a bit better kept, but boy are there tourists! As Philippe and I prefer the locals to tourists, we successfully found a cute local run hostel (more like the owners house with extra rooms) and the locals market, so we don't have to pay five times the price to eat like we would at all the touristy restaurants. After much deliberation, we decided that since we were here, we really did have to go visit Machu Picchu (it was a debate because of how touristy and expensive it is, and because ruins aren't really our thing). Our trip over there was interesting to say the least. First off, it was a six hour bus ride that we were lucky to survive as the driver was a maniac, even on the very twisty dirt roads (here the "roads" are only made for one car, meaning if you meet someone going the opposite way, well, it's very interesting... especially around the blind curves). We then ended up hiring a taxi (a very fun and fast ride with music blaring, also along a very curvy dirt road), before walking the last two hours along the train tracks in order to reach the "town" before Machu Picchu (it is not a town, but rather dozens of very nice and expensive hostels, hotels, and restaurants. Let's just say the adverage age here was at least fifty). The next morning we headed off at five in the morning, on a very hot, tiring, and horrible walk to the ruins (we didn't exactly realize it was in the jungle, boy was it hot, even at five in the morning). Finally we arrived, just as the sun was peaking over the jungle mountains surrounding Machu Picchu, which was quite a sight. It was stunning, especially knowing the history behind the ruins and then their discovery, so it ended up being worth the heat stroke we suffered to get there.

Our disastrous backpacking trip started in a cheap hostel in a very small village at the start of our trek around one of the tallest mountains in the area. We had been joking that it would be funny if someone came into the room beside us, as the wall did not reach all the way between the two rooms, but we quickly regretted that when, in the middle of the night, a very loud and violent domestic fight ensued in that room. Needless to say we didn't sleep much that night. We started out trekking before seven to beat the afternoon rain, but by ten there was thunder and a huge cover of dark menacing clouds. We had just agreed to set up our tent right there and then when it started to pour. Not only was it raining harder than any other time on this trip, but as we were high up and it was cold, it turned to ice the second it hit anything. By the time we got our tent up (it was our first time using it, and it had a very weird design) it was ice covered and there was a huge puddle of water inside. Freezing, we climbed into our sleeping bags and ended up spending most of the afternoon that way. We got up at 4h30 the next morning to beat the rain, but found that after raining all night, the clouds were not about to call it quits. We then proceeded to find our bag of nuts and raisins (our main meal for lunch and dinner everyday as backpacking food and power bars don't exist here) ripped open and eaten by dogs. At that point, we realized that the four passes we were planning on doing, two of which were over 5,000m, would be impossible to cross because of the snow build up. We both knew our trip would have to be done, so we turned back and returned to the village we started in to catch a bus back home. After waiting over an hour for a bus, we met another tourist waiting in the village, and him and his guide invited us to share there private transportation (a collectivo, much more comfortable than the bus) to return to Cusco. After over an hour and a half of waiting for it to leave (during which our bus had come and gone), we were then kicked out to make room for another larger group they decided to take instead (the worst part of this was their bs reasons for kicking us out, telling us that the police are strict here and having one extra person would get them fined, a fact I found quite amusing considering that every taxi, collectivo, and bus I have been in up to this point has had twice the amount of people it is made for). After waiting over an hour more for another bus, we finally were on our way back to Cusco, sure nothing else on our cursed trip could go wrong. Not quite. After someone with a guitar serenaded the bus while standing right next to our seats (he was in the top five worst singers I have ever heard), I ended up getting sick, and spent the four hour ride throwing up (and proceeded to get worst the whole evening once we had arrived). Currently both Philippe and I have come down with some kind of flu, or eaten the wrong thing, as we are both lying in bed wide awake and sick in the middle of the night- all in all, it was quite a disastrous trip.