Aguas Calientes

On the final day of the journey, I explored the area around Aguas Calientes—less by choice than by necessity.

The reason was my three-star hotel, Flower’s House MachuPicchu, which suffered from several serious problems.

First, there was effectively no internet. Each floor had its own Wi-Fi network, except the fifth floor, where I was staying. The fourth- and sixth-floor signals were strong and used the same password, so connecting was easy. Getting online was another matter: Google’s home page took nearly thirty seconds to load, and most other sites were hopeless. I went downstairs and told the front desk that the fifth floor had no Wi-Fi. The receptionist quietly turned off mobile data on her phone before checking the network—strong evidence that she already knew exactly how unusable the hotel’s connection was.

Second, there was no cold water. I have stayed in plenty of hotels where the hot water failed; a broken heater is familiar enough. Cold water failing was new. During the day I had only washed my hands, using whatever cool water remained in the pipes, so I did not notice. That evening, after the tap ran for thirty seconds, the water became painfully hot. The receptionist appeared to know about this problem too. Some repair work required the cold-water line to be shut off regularly, she said, and it would return in ten minutes. It did, briefly. By the middle of the night, the cold water was gone again. Washing my hands became a race against the rising temperature.

Finally, there was the noise. The aging windows would not close properly, and sound insulation was essentially nonexistent. The hotel stood near the railway station, so the whistle of the first train at five in the morning marked the end of sleep. Earplugs softened it somewhat. They were not optional.

Taken together, the lack of internet and reliable water made spending the day in the room impossible. Under better circumstances, I might simply have rested. Instead, I set out for places my guide had recommended the day before. ChatGPT had suggested other sights, but the guide pointed out that one involved a three-hour walk each way. I agreed that was more than I wanted.

I first headed northeast toward a waterfall, passing the open-air Machu Picchu Hot Springs. From the trail above, I could see the entire complex. Water—whether genuinely thermal or not, I could not tell—had been directed into pools of roughly 10 square meters. The surface was clear; the bottom was not visible. Towels were not provided. Unless soaking in hot springs is a personal passion, I would not consider this an essential stop.

About ten minutes farther uphill was the first waterfall, Cataratas de Aguas Calientes. This was a developed attraction, with an entrance shared with the hot springs and admission payable by cash or card. Wooden benches appeared regularly along the trail, making the climb pleasantly manageable.

After descending, I set out for a second destination, the Allcamayo Waterfalls. This trail was almost entirely undeveloped. The first fifteen minutes climbed steeply over uneven stone to a small refreshment stand. There was nowhere to sit along the way; resting meant stopping in place and leaning on my legs. By the time I reached the stand, I was exhausted. I bought a ticket—cash and cards were both accepted—and continued for another five minutes to the first supposed waterfall. My immediate thought was: This counts as a waterfall?

Less than ten minutes farther in, I reached the second waterfall. This one looked considerably more deserving of the name.

The route runs through dense, largely unmanaged forest, and the footing is difficult. An injury—especially a twisted ankle—would become a serious problem very quickly. Insect repellent is also strongly advisable. Halfway in, an enormous unidentified bee or wasp began following me. It stayed with me all the way to the waterfall and most of the way back, disappearing only as I approached the edge of the forest. I would have preferred not to acquire a winged escort.

Unless hiking itself is the goal, I would probably skip this second waterfall. Compared with the first, the physical effort was much greater than the reward. By the time I emerged, my clothes were nearly soaked through with sweat.

From there I walked to the Mariposario of Machu Picchu, a butterfly sanctuary below the mountain. Walking was not a special decision: under ordinary circumstances, Aguas Calientes has almost no road traffic. Vehicles are largely reserved for deliveries and specific commercial uses, including the buses that carry visitors up to Machu Picchu.

The sanctuary held a large number of butterflies. The displays promised many varieties, although one species seemed to dominate during my visit.

At the very end, I took one hazy photograph looking up toward Machu Picchu from below.

With that, the journey was complete.