After Moray, our walk continues
downhill toward the Sacred Valley,
leading us through the small town
of Maras. A dry wind cuts through
deserted streets. Windows are shut-
tered and doors are closed, creating
a sense of abandonment relieved only
by a boisterous game of football on
a small court of artificial turf in the
central plaza. We stop to watch a few
minutes of the action.
Nearby, a small red flag flutters lazily
on a pole overhanging the doorway of
an otherwise nondescript watering
hole, indicating that the bar is open and
the chicha, a Peruvian corn-based beer,
is flowing. Passing on a midday happy
hour, we forge ahead.
We aim for the salt mines of Marasal,
a 20-minute journey on foot. “The salt
ponds are shared by the local commu-
nities,” Losano tells us, referring to an
informal system of cooperative man-
agement that is said to date back to
Incan times. Another guide explains
the salt pond process to his gringo cli-
ents: Saline water emerges in the tight
V-shaped valley and is channeled into
a honeycomb of terraced ponds, where
the water evaporates. The remaining
salt is exported worldwide, but the
ponds are popular tourist attractions in
their own right.
30
WinTer 2017
CAA sasKaTCHeWan
aisle from three American women on
a whirlwind gastronomy tour of Peru.
The train lurches forward and I’m soon
staring down an appetizer of quinoa
tabbouleh and roasted fava beans with
Andean mint oil, followed by a main of
grilled beef tenderloin.
After this guilt-inducing lunch, I
wander to the bar car where a duo of
acoustic guitar virtuosos fingerpick an
instrumental version of “Black Magic
Woman,” a welcome change from the
pan flute melodies that seem omni-
present in the Andes.
As the condor flies, it’s a mere 60
kilometres from Ollantaytambo to
Machu Picchu, but by train, it’s a wildly
beautiful three-hour ride that snakes
through the deepening gorge of the Rio
Urubamba as it tumbles toward the
Amazon Basin. Pine forests, pampas
grass and farm fields soon give way to
lush jungles of impenetrable hardwoods
that crawl up mountaintops.
Our endpoint is Aguas Calientes,
the gateway to Machu Picchu. It’s a
town accessible only by train: With a
little imagination, one can sense the
Centuries-old
Incan stonework
Hiram Bingham Train
To be in The Sacred Valley and
not visit Machu Picchu would be
like going to Rome and giving the
Colosseum a pass. More than a million
tourists visit Machu Picchu annually—
that’s almost 3,000 per day. I opt to
travel there on the Hiram Bingham
Train. It’s a pampered journey
that couldn’t be further from the
experience of the train’s nam