Faced with a 26 hour bus journey or a 1 hour flight, we once again bite the bullet and pay up for the flight to Cusco in order that we can visit Machu Picchu. We’re in one of the highest cities in the world (3,310m above sea level) and are warned that we may be affected by soroche (altitude sickness) here, the symptoms of which are shortness of breath, light-headedness, sickness and more.
Our pre-booked accommodation at Torre Dorada (www.torredorada.com) are the only 3 star hotel I’ve ever known (not that I’ve known too many, if I’m honest) that provide a 5 star service, sending free taxis to collect from the airport and having the owner of the hotel (a lady of 50-something named Peggy) lug our bags upstairs for us, insisting that we can’t do it ourselves because of the soroche. There’s even coca leaf tea on tap for us which is meant to help, but help or not, I like the taste and as an added bonus, I’m assured it works as an appetite suppressant, which always works for me.
We arrive late afternoon and have to be up before 5am to get the train to Machu Picchu, so it’s a take-away pizza and an early night all round.
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