I had never encountered  a site quite like the chunky  terraces of brown, gold, and white Incan salt pans. This striking mountainside is located right outside the town of Maras, and currently produces cattle salt licks and souvenirs. We then hiked downhill to Urubamba, but I recommend spending the night in Ollantaytambo.

 

Day Two (cont.)

For $3 a person a taxi drove us to Salinas, or Salineras, briefly stopping to take pictures of the the roadside views of wildflowers and alpacas. Admission was another $3 and well worth it.

The extensive network of pans took over two hours to explore. There were no apparent regulations on walking through the accessible levels. The backdrop was a gushing river beneath us, and more of the calming, protective mountain peaks. Resting locals who mine the salt surprised us when they invited us to take photograph them. They loved Will so much he was offered free chicha and a dance.

In an area of shade we ran into an inspiring couchsurfer who had started in Central Asia, hitchhiked Russia and Europe, flew to Brazil, and is currently en route from the bottom of Argentina to Alaska. His name was Idos.

 

 

The walk to Urubamba was lovely but tiring by the end of another two hours. The bus terminal took forever to reach as the locals clearly have issues estimating minutes, and once there we took a mototaxi, or tuk-tuk, to Hospedaje Los Perales.

The weirdest events happened. Clearly we were the only guests, and the girl said 45 soles per person. My guidebook had listed 25 and as Will and I were deciding whether or not to continue on to Ollantaytambo, where I had originally planned for us to stay, she quickly offered 35 soles, or $10. We said sure, and the had to wait outside for the room to be made. It was a great deal with extra hot showers. She was nice enough to boil the haba beans for us but sounded flustered the whole time, making us uncomfortable. Her father came out and kept saying “perhaps you would like…” and tried to sell us a complete breakfast for over $5, outrageous for food in this country, and then just coffee and toast for an equally crappy price that I can’t even remember. The whole family had great English and seemed to be communicating in rapid Spanish on ways to profit off of us, and how we were too cheap for all their attempts, right in front of us.

On that note, I curled up in my comforter and knocked out.

Title image- Will

Each Peru post includes this map that I intensively labored to create from how I saw the trip in my mind: