The Valley of the Sun

Exploring Peru's mystical Sacred Valley

Written & Photographed by Alison Engstrom

What exactly catapults a destination to a bucket list? Is it the remnants of an impression left from a transportive photograph or a moving picture from a film; perhaps it’s a travel story told by an acquaintance that left a lasting impression. Or could it be the sheer desire to travel somewhere that is far outside your everyday realm? Personally speaking, it’s always been a bit of all these things. For as long as I can remember, a wanderlust gene has been somehow planted inside of me. This is where I dream; where I feel unencumbered and free; where I happily get lost in another culture and seduced by the beauty of a foreign landscape with my camera in tow.

Peru was high on my list. I longed to see the fertile Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu laden with Incan ruins, with a picturesque fog hanging low over a backdrop of jagged green peaks. I wanted to wander down narrow cobblestone streets and see locals clad in vibrant dress, their golden complexions imprinted with decades of South American sun—their dark hair woven into two tight, long braids.

I landed in Cusco in late April, just as the country was emerging from the wet season. Remnants of a late morning drizzle left the streets glistening. Overhead the sky appeared dramatic; on one side of the city, the sun was bursting through the clouds, the beams of light illuminated the colonial architecture, while on the other side, storm clouds were moving through, creating both a dramatic and mystical feeling, mirroring the mood of the city itself.

The pastel sky at sunset.

Chicha, a local drink, ready to be served.

A street vendor proudly showing her work.

The narrow road leading to San Blas.

An array of flours at the Mercado San Pedro.

The Plaza de Armas in the morning.

DAY ONE

A Walking Tour of Cusco

Cusco is laden with history from flourishing empires to conquests, in the form of Incan walls that can be seen today while exploring the town. Between the 1500s and 1800s, the Spanish constructed a large degree of their architecture on top of existing Incan temples and palaces built between the 1000s to the 1500s. I noticed the majority of buildings have a stone foundation, finished with a stuccoed facade and ornate wooden balconies. Deemed a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983, the city is a walk through time.

On an early Tuesday morning, The Plaza de Armas, the main square, was a fulcrum of activity. Mothers held their children’s hands gently tugging them up the cobblestone street to school, their backpacks bopped up and down; police officers clad in neon yellow conducted traffic shouted, ‘vamos, vamos’; meanwhile, the Peruvian sun lit up the green mountains behind the majestic Iglesia San Francisco. Moments like this, observed by yourself, better acquaint you with everyday life.

I learned by exploring that Cusco is a very safe city both during the day and at night. There are many police officers patrolling on foot, but when it comes to walking, one must act with conviction! Even at crosswalks, drivers were hesitant to stop, so when I thought there was enough time to cross, I did so swiftly. Dodging traffic was tricky but something that I attempted to master after my first day, since walking would be my main mode of transportation.

In order to get a glimpse into the city’s history, I connected with local guide Alexander Medina of Venturia, a very knowledgeable source on all things pertaining to Cusco and the Sacred Valley. Our first stop was a few minutes from the hotel, under the Portal de Belén, where a woman sold warm, sweet and savory tamales. I carefully unwrapped the corn husk package to savor a comforting treat filled with cornmeal and laced with the subtle scent of star anise.

While exploring a few neighborhoods, I noticed that the majority of street signs weren’t in Spanish but Quechua, the original language spoken by the Incas. In 1975, the government passed a law making both it and Spanish the two national languages of Peru. You can also feel the importance that religion has played in the country; within a one block radius from the main plaza, there are more than seven churches, the largest being the Cusco Cathedral. Completed in the mid-1600s, it’s an opulent display of art and architecture including the choir stalls carved purely from cedar and the elaborate gold detailing throughout. After an afternoon spent taking in the sights, I dined at Ceviche Seafood Kitchen, a restaurant devoted to the flavors of the Peruvian coast. Besides offering a variety of ceviche, a recent menu included mouthwatering potato croquettes topped with a tangy shrimp salad as a starter. For my main, I enjoyed grilled trout accompanied by Andean corn. There were plenty of inventive drinks to wash everything down, like lemongrass lemonade, or chicha morada, a sweet purple concoction made from the region’s purple corn.

DAY TWO

The Road to Moray and the Salt Pans of Maras

The car wound up the Peruvian highlands, past forests of eucalyptus with sweeping mountain vistas until we arrived at Chinchero. Located about a 40-minute drive from Cusco, it’s the birthplace of the rainbow according to the Incas and the heart of the region’s weaving center—a tradition that has been proudly passed on from generation to generation. There are many chincheros housed on the main thoroughfare like Sara Textiles Chinchero. Inside they offer demonstrations on the process, including how the alpaca fur is cleaned by grating yucca root, which gets remarkably sudsy, then dyed with a myriad of natural materials including dried flowers and herbs and eventually spun into yarn. There are plenty of patterned goods to purchase on-site including gloves, pillowcases and blankets.

We continued on our way as we drove through the Sacred Valley, a soulful place spread out over 100 kilometers of land, where the Incas built palaces and cities more than 800 years ago. We stopped at Maras, a very small village built at the end of the 16th century. Marked with dusty dirt roads edged by homes made of adobe mud bricks, life seemed to carry on here uninterrupted by modern day conveniences. Women in traditional Peruvian dress sold colorful produce under a hut, while men trudged down the hill with wheat slung over their backs. In this region, it’s known that if there is a red flag outside a home or building, a local is offering a provision or craft inside. We wandered into one, where an elderly woman with shiny rosy cheeks and long gray hair warmly welcomed us into her home and ushered us into her small grassy courtyard. Inside, a dog lounged lazily in the sun and three brown donkeys grazed. Her specialty was chicha, a fermented corn drink that she proudly scooped out of a wooden barrel and into a glass for us to try, before we carried on to Moray.

The terrain eventually opened up to a more mountainous landscape with sharp green folds and even more shades of greens and yellows colored the hillside. Sheep grazed in the meadow, while shepherds relaxed against a tree as their flock fed. Fields of fava beans, freshly churned soil from a potato harvest and burgundy colored quinoa plants bent with the breeze helping to illustrate just how much bounty the region produces. And just beyond, two glaciers came into view, their frosted peaks soared above the clouds.

There are many archeological points to visit, again best accompanied by hiring a guide, which were once inhabited by the Incan civilization including Moray. Located in a verdant valley, it’s an astounding portrayal of their agricultural work. Within the circular rings, they have 17 micro-climates, which is thought to mimic a similar effect of the modern day greenhouse. As I explored, a musician up on the hilltop played an Andean pan flute, creating an even more mystical setting, as the notes followed me down as I took in the ruins.

The salt pans of Maras are another point of interest and an example of ‘minka’, which is Quencha for a community of people coming together for a common purpose. The 6,000 pools, in shades of milky pinks, browns and creams, are maintained by a co-op of 800 families. They operate on a century-old Incan principle called ‘ayni’, which translates to ‘tomorrow for me, tomorrow for you’ where they ultimately work for the good of all.

After a day of exploring, we stopped in Urubamba to refuel, the capital of the Sacred Valley. The city, located on the banks of the Urubamba River, has steadily grown over the years since visitors must pass through in order to arrive at Machu Picchu. For lunch, we headed to Tierra Cocina Artesanal, a charming spot in the town’s center with a menu that included a trout ceviche starter and a tasty bowl of homemade tagliatelle that incorporated four different types of local mushrooms. On our drive back to Cusco, the sun faded behind the clouds and painted the sky in soothing shades of pastel—a perfect way to end the day.

The natural dyes in Chinchero.

The Ican ruins of Moray.

A friendly dog in town.

A woman emulsifying a yucca root at Sara Textiles Chinchero.

DAY THREE

Getting to Know Cusco Through its Food

One of my favorite ways to get assimilated to a different culture is through its food and that means a visit to a local market is always a must. There are several in the city center, some catering more towards locals, tourists or both. The JW Marriott El Convento Cusco offers a wonderful opportunity to visit Mercado San Pedro, accompanied by Executive Chef Jonathan Campos of the hotel’s restaurant Qespi, which is followed by an hour-long cooking demonstration back at the hotel.

After about a 15-minute walk from the hotel, we arrived at the market geared up to taste the local flavors. There are many varieties of superfoods native to Peru that are now catching on to mainstream diets—maca, quinoa, cassava flour to name a few—but here, they have long been a staple, some dating as far back as the Incas. Many of the vendors welcomed you to sample fruit or cheese for a nominal fee. I tried a handful of tropical fruits like pacay, also known as an ice cream bean, which had a sweet white pulp nestled around large black seeds and resembled a fava bean; next, I tried lucuma, a yellow fruit with a sweet flesh similar to a cooked sweet potato. Soursop was my favorite, with its reptile-like green exterior, it tasted like a cross between a pineapple and mango. I also saw maca root in its true form, as well as chuño, a dried potato that resembled a white stone that gets re-hydrated by boiling it in hot water before it is prepared. Elsewhere inside, locals slurped piping hot bowls of chicken soup, a market favorite; visitors stocked up on colorful textiles, artfully shaped cheeses were proudly displayed alongside bags of corn and quinoa in many colorful varieties.

We picked up a loaf of Oropesa bread, an airy loaf scented with anise and a slight sweetness, a chunk of aged Gouda and several bars of Peruvian chocolate to enjoy with our lunch. Back at the hotel, I learned the art of making ceviche—a dish I had always said I didn’t like, but in full transparency, I think it’s because it was prepared incorrectly. After learning the ropes with Chef Campos, my mind was officially changed. Fresh trout, a local freshwater fish, was bathed in tiger’s milk—a zesty concoction of lime and ginger juice, fish stock and cilantro—then garnished with red onions and sweet potatoes that had been stewed in orange juice and star anise. I learned the basics to try my hand at it back at home. My demonstration was followed by a seven-course tasting meal later that evening at Qespi, inspired by the flavors of Cusco. The elaborately presented dinner included dishes such as a colorful salad garnished with edible flowers and wine poached apples; then it was a decadent gratin of potatoes slathered in herbed Andean cheese. After a very full day of eating, I sipped a hot cup of muña, a revered Andean herb that is said to soothe digestion and help with the altitude, before drifting off to sleep.

Ceviche prepared with Chef Jonathan Campos.

Fields of quinoa.

Artisanal cheeses at the market.

DAY FOUR

Exploring the Wonder of Machu Picchu

The train chugged at a steady speed of 35 kilometers per hour through the rugged terrain of the Sacred Valley, past grazing cows, an expanse of artichoke fields and the flowing Urubamba River. With each bend, the terrain morphed into something new and unexpected. My mode of transportation, the Belmond Hiram Bingham, a pristinely restored train from the 1920s that is luxury travel at its finest. The convoy is outfitted with a lavish bar and dining cart—both offer plush seating and shiny wooden and brass details—and an observation car, where you can dazzle at the changing scenery and the world passing you by.

There are a few ways you can arrive to Machu Picchu, one of them by hiking, which is free—the longest duration is seven days, the shortest, six hours—or by train like the Hiram Bingham or PeruRail. The former is named after the American archeologist Hiram Bingham III, who rediscovered one of the new wonders of the world in 1911.

The two and a half hour train ride to Machu Picchu included a multi-course lunch, followed with dinner on the return trip. All of the ingredients served on board are sourced locally and some recent dishes included grilled paichi fish and for dessert, a creamy coffee cheesecake topped with sesame brittle. One highlight of the trip was traveling through the outskirts of the rainforest. The train cut through lush jungly foliage, as we neared Aguas Calientes, the small town that’s the gateway to the ruins.

My anticipation of finally seeing Machu Picchu was building up as the bus climbed up the steep incline meeting head-on with buses on their sharp descent down. Hairpin turns closely hugged the edge of the unguarded cliff that dipped down to a rainforest covered canyon. I began to ponder exactly how I would feel seeing a landmark that I had only previously admired from afar. We arrived just after noon and before me, perched under a blanket of fog on the grassy mountainside, was the breathtaking citadel. The sun peaked slightly through, enough for me to attempt to capture the unfathomable beauty. Instead of opting for a guide of the area, I decided to meander on my own, in order to have adequate time to stop and marvel when the feeling struck.

One fascinating aspect is the mystery that still surrounds the monument, which was believed to have been the royal estate of Incan ruler Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui; some records show there were approximately 1,000 inhabitants living there. Deemed as one of the New Seven Wonders of the World, its more than 150 buildings—once comprised of temples and bathhouses—were built without utilizing the wheel, iron tools or animal power. When the Spanish conquistadors arrived in Peru in the 16th century and the Incan empire collapsed, Machu Picchu was abandoned and lay quiet until it was rediscovered by Bingham in 1911. Taking in the history, while walking into each hollowed structure was both eerie and mystical, but I kept looking beyond, at the clouds that covered the mountains. In the distance; thunder rumbled overhead, as the Urubamba River flowed through the gorge down below, yet there was an overall silence that was palpable.

DAY FIVE

Happily Getting Lost in San Blas

On my final day in Cusco, I decided to spend it wandering the picturesque section of San Blas. Since the city center is nestled in a valley, the neighborhoods are mostly located on the hilltop and at times on a steep incline where you are left not only breathless from the altitude but also the view itself. I wandered up a hilly stone street as the morning sun glared overhead. Exploring cities first thing in the morning often gives me the feeling that anything is possible—who knows how the day will unfold. I visited the Mercado San Blas, a more local market that is smaller when compared to San Pedro, but with similar food vendors. Then I strolled down Calle Tandapata, a narrow lane lined with many cafés, boutiques and restaurants, many of which are vegan. I stopped into Laggart Café, an eclectic coffee shop and art gallery with an inviting atmosphere and colorful wall embellished with large scale flower murals. I sipped a delicious espresso from locally grown and beans before pressing on. Art is everywhere in Cusco and the artisans are very proud of their work, like at the Saturday market at Plaza San Blas, where artists sell a range of handmade items like musical instruments, dried gourds intricately engraved with emblems of the city's past and present, and the softest mittens and blankets. L'Atelier Café-Concept serves delicious coffee among vintage jewelry and clothing. On Córdoba del Tucumán, I discovered Art Gallery Studio, a terrific artisan shop; in the rear, a sweet elderly woman sold antique ceramic urns and vessels, some caked with dust, at reasonable prices that can be negotiated.

I ended my time relaxing under the shade of a tree in the Plaza Nazarene, a quaint square behind the Plaza de Armas. By my side, a large scrappy looking dog, who resembled a cross between an Irish wolfhound and sheepdog; he tenderly laid his dreadlocked head on my knees as I petted him. A cool afternoon breeze blew through alleviating the warmth of the hot sun. He soon got up, after over an hour of attention, and was on his way with his tail wagging. And shortly thereafter so would I, with my soul satisfied and my eyes, even more wide awake to the awe-inspiring beauty and incredible wonders of the world.

EDITOR’S NOTE As mentioned in my editor’s letter, as a huge animal and dog lover, the stray dog situation in Cusco was very heartbreaking, to say the very least. Everywhere you look there are the most beautiful dogs, both big and small, sleeping on the sidewalk, dangerously running between cars and digging through garbage, a far cry from how these animals should be living. Most are very friendly, and in my opinion just craved affection, as displayed when many nestled their head into my leg while I was petting them. After seeing my first dog, I immediately wanted to find out how I could help but after researching, I found very few resources. Dogs seem to be misunderstood and animal welfare doesn’t seem to be a top priority for their government. I am trying to find ways to help and to potentially bring dogs to the United States. Follow us on social media for updates.

The salt pans of Maras.

The sunny courtyard at the JW Marriot.