From the get go of our trip, Eric and I have been adamant on visiting the Amazon basin. After learning that our last journey into the Bolivian rainforest wasn´t in fact the actual ¨Basin¨ we felt compelled to remedy the fact and journey into the belly of the beast. Being in Peru, that meant we needed to make our way to Iquitos, the remote Amazon jungle town in Peru. The town (pop. 300,000 people) is the diving board for jungle excursions and research studies in Peru´s claim to the great forest. There are only two ways to reach it. Flying by plane or a three to four day ferry ride along a tributary of the Amazon river called the Rio Ucayall.

By this point in our trip, we were scraping the bottom of the barrel for travel funds and the boat journey was our only option. We took a bus ride from Cuzco to the town of Pucallpa where after many mis directions from locals on the street, we found ourselves on the river banks at Puerto Henry. Rumors on the streets were telling us that finding a boat ride to Iquitos would happen for a day or two. Despite finding a room in a hotel, we were running low on time and figured that checking out the port wouldn´t hurt. At the very least it would be good reconnaissance for information. Once at the port, we saw numerous workers loading up a big river boat with goods that were to be delivered to remote villages along the journey to Iquitos and that in fact this particular boat was scheduled to leave in two hours. Just our luck. We found the captain and he informed us that he had some hammock space available on the second deck. We agreed to his price of 285 soles (just over a hundred US dollars), bought two hammocks from him and claimed our spot amongst the chaos of families and locals preparing for the long journey.

For us it meant we had to hurry back to our hostel and convince the owner to give us back our money, and get back before the boat departed. We hailed one of the thoisand mototaxis and after much hassle, we got off the hook with our hostel and were swinging in our hammocks, with books-in-hand, with about a half an hour to spare.

After about twenty pages into Robinson Crusoe, I looked over to see four pairs of eyes staring at us in curiosity belonging to four little girls with smile on their faces. They had discovered Eric with his long blond hair and were quizing him in rapid spanish on all his likes and thoughts, barely controling there excitement to chat with a gringo. As it turned out they were traveling home to Iquitos with their family. We met Anna, a Peruvian woman and her five children who were bunking next to us even before the ferry cast off. She has four daughters ranging in age from 4 to 12 and a seven month old son named Anthony who remained center of attention and show and tell for his sisters for the next four days.

…And then the crowds came.

Jesus Christo. We had the ruins to our selves with about a hundred other backpackers (which doesn´t seem like much in such a big place) when eleven o´clock rolled around and the gringos came in like a wave of lemmings. Women walking up in designer heels and people armed with their point and shoot cameras and wearing their safari vests that they purchased in town with the dorky hats saying ¨I survived Machu Picchu¨. Here Eric and I were surrounded by these people soaked in sweat and exhausted from hiking with all our gear and these Disneyland goers huffed up 30 meters of stairs after a air conditioned bus ride to complain about the hike up. It was like being at Yellowstone National Park, where 10 mile long traffic jams hold up the crowds so a few can take a picture of a deer, except here it was everyone in one spot with tour guides shouting over each other to tell the biggest stories about what they thought the history of the place was.

To note: It is a lost city of the Incan Empire. An empire that was wiped out by the Spanish and very little, if any, actual recorded history known. One of the main reasons the site is still in existance is that the Spanish never knew about it. Machu Picchu was never mentioned in that history. It was simply abandoned. So everything the guides where feeding to the crowds was strictly based on speculation or personal theory.

It was hard to know what to think. It was almost like it was taking something away from those of us that busted are asses to the top. The ones that earned it. It seemed to dull the beauty (almost) of the place. To know that it had turned into a over populated theme park where any paying fool could drive up to it. It came as a bit of a shock.

I suppose it is a result of the immense media attention given to it and the capitalization of the private company that owns the great Incan ruins. Building a road to the top, putting in restaurants and charging an arm an a leg to see them all the while paying their employees crumbs and barely investing any money in restoring the decaying structures. The extra traffic is definitely making an impact on the site. Local scientist are saying that the ruins are sinking 1 cm a month.

It was incredible to see the ruins but I wasn´t expecting the numbers. As Eric and I hiked down, saturated in humidity, we came across a waterfall and each dunked ourselves under the cool water. Having a little fun, Eric gave a bus load of tourist a special treat to close out their experience of Machu Picchu. Satisfied, we made our way down to Aguas Calentes for a well deserved drink.