Ollantaytambo, Pisac, and Macchu Picchu

Yesterday I visited the two largest Inca ruins in the Sacred Valley and today I went to Macchu Picchu.  The ruins at Ollantaytambo are a short walk from my hotel and they tower over the town.  They consist of rising terraces with a structure on top of six huge stones.






Pisac is quite similar.





Europeans built cities on rivers and ports to facilitate trade and to have easy access to supplies.  The Incas built cities on top of mountains for protection.  An interesting trade-off.  But the Incas were also self-sufficient agriculturally because they terraced the mountains and were thus able to grow sufficient food.  And they developed a sophisticated system of irrigation and water drainage.  Water still flows from the original fountains in Ollantaytambo.  Finally, they built warehouses on the sides of the mountains that stayed cool from the air circulation.  Supposedly the warehouses contained enough food for five years so they could not be defeated by siege.

One common feature of all of the sites is the Temple of the Sun.  In each place there is a room designed for light to shine through certain window or to cast a particular shadow for a few seconds on the winter solstice and the summer solstice.

But of course the most interesting feature of the Inca sites is the stone construction.  Like Roman structures, the stones are placed on each other without mortar.  But the stones are not merely piled on each other; they nest together in both straight and curved lines and are linked on the inside like legos.  You cannot fit a piece of paper or a blade of grass between the stones.  The "ruins" remain in perfect condition because they cannot be knocked down, even in an earthquake.  The Spanish conquistadors destroyed the simpler structures, but even the terraces are so well designed that they remain to this day.

So the big question is:  how did the Incas build these incredibly sophisticated walls and buildings.  Mostly with manual labor.  They used stone and soft metals but did not have iron.  They also neglected to invent the wheel so did not use pulleys for lifting.

And the second big question is:  how do we know any of this?  Well, a lot is speculation.  The Incas also did not invent paper or a system of writing.  They did have a system of mathematics that involved cords and knots, but no one today knows how to "read" it.  Macchu Picchu was deserted by the Incas and never seen by the Spanish.  Our limited knowledge of the Incas comes from Spanish recordings of Inca oral history and traditions, and the Spanish had no reason to be accurate.

But who cares?  This is just one of those things that you have to see.  Here is the piece de resistance:  Macchu Picchu including one bad picture with me to prove that I was there.  I am standing in front of the Sun Gate, the entrance to Macchu Picchu from the Inca Trail.  The site is far below in the distance.

Last interesting fact about the Incas ... There are no such people.  "The Inca" was the king, so there was only one Inca at a time and only a handful during their three century dynasty.  There is a different Quechua word for the people that I can't remember.  Today the natives are called "andinos."

Sacred Valley of the Incas

It took the Spanish Conquistadors four years to overrun the Aztecs in Mexico but the Incas in Peru held out for forty years and won some significant battles because ... there are mountains here.  Riding a horse in full armor at 10,000 feet does not get you very far.  Cusco sits at over 11,000 feet but just below Cusco there is a beautiful valley - el Valle Sagrado de los Incas.  I had decided to come here first to acclimate to the altitude since it is only about 8,000 to 9,000 feet in elevation.
















I got to Lima on Monday night, making a ten minute connection in Newark, but my luggage did not.  On Tuesday I few to Cusco and was driven immediately to Ollantaytambo, a small Inca town of 3,000 people at the far end of the valley.  There are rumors that my bag will catch up with me tomorrow, but I'm not betting on it.  Clean clothes are overrated anyway.  I bought a new shirt today at the local market, although there is not much selection in a town this small.

Today we visited the Inca experimental farm at Moray.  No one is quite sure how they dug out the hillside and terraced it so perfectly.  Each level down is half a degree warmer, so the Incas were able to develop new varieties of plants that could grow at different altitudes.  There are only fourteen varieties of corn here, but ninety five varieties of potatoes.  That does not include sweet potatoes which, of course, are not potatoes at all.  I needed to know all about potatoes.



Then we went to the salt mines.  A very small stream of warm salty water flows out of a certain mountain.  They think there is a sodium deposit in the mountain.  The water is fed into small individually owned sections that are only about ten by twenty feet.  For a month the water evaporates and the salt crystallizes.  Then the owners harvest it and start all over again.  There are only narrow walkways between the pools, so everything has to be carried up and down by hand.  And there are three layers of salt - the flower (top and best), pink salt (middle), and dark salt for medicinal purposes at the bottom.  This was really fascinating.





We also stopped at a shop where women weave clothes and blankets from sheep's wool and alpaca using only natural dying.  They showed us how they used plants and seeds to dye the wool.  Call me a city girl, but it did seem rather magical they way they put nondescript leaves into water, dipped in the wool and it instantly changed colors in front of my very eyes - and not necessarily to the color of the leaves or seeds.

The most interesting thing I learned today:  in the local Quechua language, Cusco is pronounce Costco.  Duh.  Of course.

Morocco ramblings

It snowed my first day in Ifrane and again my last week here.  Worse than that, Kasey wasn't feeling well, so she stayed home with Ruby and I ventured out to do laundry and go grocery shopping.  I like the babysitting part better.  Petit taxis are the main means of local transportation, as opposed to grande taxis which run intercity routes.  To go grocery shopping, I walked ten minutes to the gate of the university to get a petit taxi to the marche (market).  After shopping at the various stalls, I took a petit taxi back and hiked back up the hill to our apartment building.  I realize that this is not a big deal for people on the East Coast, but I have not been in snow in twenty years.

Returning from the Marche

Walking to the laundry on campus

On Thursday I left Ifrane for Fez where I had my second annual dinner with the Ullmans' in a random part of the world (last year was Thailand).  This is a selfie Michael took in front of the Blue Gate to the Fez medina, and one of me shopping for rugs.  I bought a rug but did not want to carry it, so I paid for shipping.  All cash.  Receipt?  We don't need no stinkin' receipt.  I don't even know the carpet seller's name.  Maybe it will show up sometime next month.





John sent me some pictures he took in Chefchaouen, so blue town redux.  I don't have a picture of all of us together, but I do have all of us.









This morning I took the train from Fez to Tangier for a quick overnight before flying to London tomorrow.  Tangier is underwhelming after Fez and Marrakech.  On the plus side, the second language here is Spanish, not French, so I can communicate again.  I understood French better than I thought I would, but could barely speak.

Morocco is like many of the countries I have visited:  poor, lacking in infrastructure, and corrupt.  But I did not find it as charming as other countries and have spent a lot of time trying to figure out why.  Is it a subtle prejudice because it is an Arab/Moslem country?  Kasey has another theory that a tourist would not see.  She is clearly affected by the frustration of living in a very inefficient, autocratic country.

Actually, Morocco is all Moslem but only forty percent Arab.  The Berber natives are still the majority.  There never was a Berberia, however; Berber is a corruption of "barbarian" which is what the Romans called the natives.  Although almost all women and a lot of girls wear head coverings, many do not, and few wear face coverings.  Moroccans are quite tolerant of the practice of Islam by others.

Unlike many African countries, Morocco is extremely fertile.  I believe it may be self-sufficient in agriculture and it exports quite a lot to Europe.  The Sahara is in the south, but as I rode by the northern half of the country, I saw endless orchards and green fields.  But ... I almost never saw anyone working in the fields.  Also, the "farmhouses" were shanties, like the housing in much of the country.  I was told that most of the farms are small and family owned, but I also read that large agribusiness has made farming uneconomical for small farmers sending young people to the cities.  I never could figure out how the fields were so green with no one working.

Similarly, I saw signs of construction everywhere - houses, whole developments, roads, and bridges - but almost no one working.  Kasey said they would run out of money and stop working.  So lots of partially constructed houses just sitting.  They have been "working" on widening the road from Fez to Ifrane for the entire time that Kasey and John have been here, but the construction has barely progressed.  During my hour long ride to Fez today, I saw three individual construction vehicles with crews of two or three men for a construction project of about 50 kilometers.

One other thing I saw along the roads all the time:  flocks of sheep grazing on the narrow strip between the fields and the road.  Most of the flocks were fewer than twenty sheep with a single shepherd.  Larger flocks had two shepherds.  Occasionally a cowherd tended one to three cows.  I have decided that the most boring job in the world is to be a shepherd in Morocco.  You stand there all day long making sure the sheep do not go onto the road.  I did see one smart shepherd with earbuds in.

When I was in Antigua, Guatemala a few years ago, I was impressed by the colonial architecture:  very narrow, uneven sidewalks with stucco buildings right up to the sidewalks.  But when you walked inside, beautiful courtyards and interiors.  Then I went to Seville last month and realized that "colonial" style was Spanish.  Duh.  The same narrow sidewalks with forbidding building facades.  Then I came to Morocco and realized that Spanish style is "Moorish."  Duh.  The streets here are narrow and winding, often with no sidewalks at all.  The buildings are continuous, with closed doors and shuttered windows.  The outside gives no clue as to the interiors.  Traditional houses have courtyards planted with trees and gardens.  All of the rooms open on to the courtyard so there is no need for exterior windows.

In Southeast Asia, I noticed that life was lived outside.  Houses were very small with no living rooms or big screen tv's.  There were always people outside - eating, shopping, or just hanging out - giving every city and village a lively feel.  The houses in Morocco keep people inside.  The living rooms are lined with huge sofas, and I saw satellite dishes on most roofs.  There is no tradition of eating out here.  Men still sit in cafes for hours talking and drinking coffee, but the restaurants are almost exclusively for the tourists.

I also was impressed with the Giralda, the huge square minaret in Seville.  Then I saw the original- the Koutoubia Mosque in Marrakech which was built in the twelfth century.  All mosques in Morocco and southern Spain have the distinctive and beautiful square minarets.

The Koutoubia Mosque

The guidebook says that if you get lost in the medina, you can pay a kid a few dirham to help you find your way.  I tried that in Marrakech a few times, but whatever I paid the kid, he threw back at me and said it wasn't enough.  After a while, I realized that kids (all boys) hang out looking for tourists to "help."  They always started by telling me I was going the wrong way without asking where I was going.  I hired a private guide one day and asked him how much I should pay the kids.  First he said I should not pay, that they should just be helpful.  Right.  I told him my experience of the kids demanding more than I paid.  Of course, he said, that's natural.  If you offered $500 they would want more; if you offered $1,000 they would want more; if you offered everything you had, they would want more.  It's natural.  An interesting concept of natural for me.

Today, I was walking around the medina in Tangier when a boy insisted on showing me the way.  I told him I didn't want his help, that I was just wandering.  I told him right away that I would not pay him.  Bah, money, he said.  I don't care about money.  I couldn't get him to leave me and he led me back to where I had already been.  So I turned and went the other way.  Then he very aggressively demanded money.  I am tired of being hustled by fifteen year old boys.  I understand that Moroccans are traditionally very helpful and friendly.  Unfortunately, the "natural" inclination to separate tourists from their money has made it impossible to take any offer at face value.

Moving on.  As Sweeney Todd said:  there's no place like London.

One last picture of Kasey and Ruby before moving on.

The Ziz Valley

Marrakech was  nice if a bit touristy for me.  The large medina does sell food and supplies to locals, but most of the booths sell rugs, blankets, leather goods, and wood products to the tourists.  There are direct flights to Marrakech, so there are a lot of tourists here, primarily from Europe.  On Wednesday I walked to the Jardin Majorelle, the most peaceful spot in Marrakech after my lovely riad.  French artist Jacques Majorelle designed the garden in the 1920's and 1930's, importing cactus and other plants, primarily from the Americas, but also from China, Japan, and South Africa.  The garden was neglected after Majorelle's death until it was acquired by Yves Saint-Laurent and continues to be maintained by his foundation.  So among the odder things I visited in Marrakech was a memorial to Yves Saint-Laurent where his ashes were scattered.  Who knew?





On Friday I took a ten hour bus ride to Errachidia to meet Kasey and John to spend a weekend in the Ziz Valley at a lovely guesthouse that they had stayed at once.  Needless to say, I was not looking forward to the bus ride, but I ended up liking it a lot.  I drove across the width of Morocco in the front seat of a luxury bus.



We crossed the High Atlas Mountains, climbing from the desert on a narrow road with switchbacks to the snow covered peak of 7,000 feet .  It was pretty amazing.  I noticed that the style of the buildings was square with turrets on the four corners.  Even small houses looked like castles.

It was dark when John picked me up in Errachidia and we drove to the Maison D'Hote Sahara.  This is the view I woke up to.







The desert is endless with red rock formations like southern Utah.  But where the Ziz river flows, there is a huge oasis.  Our hotel was in the middle of the oasis.  It was a square building with four turret shaped rooms on the roof, which was where we stayed.





A fashion note:  for the first time on this entire trip, I am wearing sandals and crops, no winter jacket, and a short sleeve shirt under my pullover.  And the pullover came off for a while.

On Saturday morning, Kasey and John hiked up one of the mesas while Ruby and I stayed behind.  Ah, modern technology.  When they got to the top, they called me on their cel phone and I walked out on the roof.  We could see each other, but just as tiny, black specks in the distance.

On Sunday we drove back to Ifrane where I will stay for my last few days in Morocco.

Ruby is still cute.

Marrakech

Kasey and John left me in Fez to take a train to Marrakech on Monday, and they went back up to Ifrane.  Morocco is sorely lacking in infrastructure, and transportation is particularly bad.  The French left them a train system and that's it.  No intercity flights although the distances are quite long.  Some buses.  The primary way to travel between cities is by grand taxis - mid-size old Mercedes sedans.  The driver will not leave until he has two passengers in the front and four in the back.  If you want more room, you have to pay for another seat.

Within cities, petit taxis are quite cheap.  You have to use them because there are very few bus routes.  When I left my hotel in Fez for the train station, I asked how much the taxi should be.  They told me six or seven dirhams but the taxi would have a meter.  I didn't see a meter in the taxi so I asked the driver who did not understand me.  Right.  There's not a taxi driver in the world who does not know the word "meter."  We got to the train station, which was less than a mile away, and he turned and said to me, "twenty dirhams."  I laughed and said, no.  Without batting an eyelash, he said, "ok, five."  He wasn't the least bit embarrassed.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

 So I took an eight hour train ride - the longest in my life as far as I can remember.  Kasey told me to go first class - a good move.  It was okay, not great.

Marrakesh is the red city.  Its exterior walls are a lovely terra cotta red.  The medina is huge and endlessly confusing.  I walk one block, retrace my steps, and can't find my way back.  The streets are narrow, winding, and crowded, with shops everywhere.  The merchandise is all similar, so even when I think I recognize something, I'm not sure.

The traditional inns are called riads.  They are small - no more than ten rooms -with personal attention. You walk down a narrow alley that you would not walk down in the US, knock on a nondescript door, and walk into a beautiful house built around a central courtyard.  I am staying at the Riad Idra which is exquisite.

The courtyard

Rooftop terrace where it has been warm enough to sit this week

I took a tour of the highlights of Marrakesh yesterday and have spent hours wandering around lost.  It is a pleasure to come home to my riad where I am sitting right now in the library in front of the fireplace.