Getting There - Aneel's Travelogue

One of the guidebooks describes Aguas Calientes as an armpit (The minibus ticket stub says that Machu Picchu Pueblo is mistakenly known as Aguas Calientes, but it's the name that everyone seems to use). It's not that bad, really, but it is touristy as hell along the main drag. Every second door has people outside telling you how great their Bar/Restaurant/Pizzeria is. We passed at least three of them that were playing Bob Marley (and were therefore forbidden to us).

We had a perfectly reasonable dinner at the place our guidebook recommended. We tried to find the bar that the book said was the best, but it seems to have changed names. We went to the place that was where it should have been (they were playing Pink Floyd instead of Marley). They served me a Mega Pisco Sour (probably twice the size of a normal one) and Yuri got a layered drink called the Machu Picchu. Dave, wisely, stuck with red wine. The two mixed drinks were among the worst we've had in Peru. What kind of maniacal bartender thinks that mixing grenadine, orange juice, and creme de menthe is a good idea?

The saving grace of Aguas Calientes is its location. At night the giant peaks that surround it loom, pitch black against the sky. They seem far closer than they are because of their massive scale, and they give you the feeling that they're falling towards you. It's an amazing sensation.