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Aguas Calliente

At the train station for Machu Picchu we took a ticket, numbered 3 million and 4, to wait in line for ticket purchases. Whilst waiting we started chatting to an American guy and a Dutch guy who bought tickets with us to save them waiting another month for an available cashier.

The American guy told us that he was travelling with another dude and was planning on going to Machu Pichu with him but his companion had randomly done a runner at the bus station ‘for no apparent reason’. After 5 minutes of talking to this American guy we realised his previous companion had made a lucky and wise escape. Luckily the Dutch guy was more normal.

So late afternoon we met back together to grab a minibus to the next town to get the train, and then another bus to Aguas Calientes. On the train we met a fellow windsurfer who gave us the lowdown on all the windy spots in S.A.

With all our new buddies we bought entrance tickets to M.P and booked into a ropey hostel, together with a ropey dinner. After being taken for a random walk around town by some local woman (noone was quite sure why this was happening, but we had nothing better to do) we discovered that to get the bus up to M.P in the morning (and be in the first 400, which allows entrance to Huaynupicchu) we would have to be in line by 4am. The German windsurfing dude was intent on walking up instead.

Either way we all required an early night to prepare us for our early rise and to catch a break from the annoying ‘I-think-I-know-everything-but-in-actual-fact-I’m-75%-retarded’ American.



  1. jeff (Reply) on Tuesday-20, 2010

    just say to him that statistically 9/11 americans wont find this joke funny


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