You know those times when you are about to have a new experience, you start forming images of what it might be like. Then the real thing goes far beyond your wildest imagination. This was one of those times.
A visit to Q’eswachaka Bridge was just that. What an amazing, incredible, fantastic day. And we only experienced a small part of it.
This bridge is entirely hand made and reconstructed each year using Traditional methods passed down over 500 years, and using only native grass found on the mountainsides ( also used to feed llamas). The work is done by members of 4 nearby communities, with each family required to make a length of rope measuring 40 armspans. Over three days they work together to construct thick strong cables from these ropes, construct the mat flooring, and weave ropes along the sides. Can't wait for our friend, Oso, who was there throughout the 3 days, to post his photos and explanations of the bridge building and the traditions that surround it. Will share his link here too.
Can't help but admire and respect the work that goes into this bridge, and the tradition that keeps it going each year for more than 500years.
The drive out there was also spectacular. Really grateful to Zac's friends, Dougie and Edilma ( and Edilma's dad) for arranging transport for us, and making it all possible.
Lex drove Dougie's car, and not being a fan of left hand drive cars, or driving on the opposite side of the road was only part of the challenge. The trip took about 3.5 hours, with no-one having been there before, and only a vague, small Google map, directions were sought frequently from locals. Who would have expected that Sunday to be a big event in so many communities. We ended up driving a loop, in convoy, through a special market event in one community (very narrow streets full of markets stalls, patrons, and oncoming traffic), only to find that today that route was not possible. We needed to go through the agricultural show grounds, full of livestock. Interestingly Lex missed the route on the return trip, and going right through the market which was getting ready to close for the day. I can only imagine the scene of Oso walking along beside the car, lifting shade structures up so they could pass. ( I was in the other car)
Also had a couple of roadside stops... Police check - Ah, Australian. Ok. And a local security tax on entry to the site.
The road wound through the valley out of Cusco, then up to a peak of 4000m, across some high plains, and finally down a series of hairpin bends on narrow roads to the Apurimac River, and the bridge. ( that's the simplified version, but the views are simply magnificent. )
From our arrival point we could see the bridge, the queues of people waiting to walk across it, the festival going on further up the mountainside, and the strings of cars, buses and trucks parked along he narrow roadway. Finding a parking spot was not going to be easy.
Some of the group noted that the queue was shorter from this side of the gorge, so opted to cross from this point, while the rest of us took the cars over.
Parking was very limited, and not necessarily easy or 'traditional'. But it was a space, which thankfully, Later Dougie was able to get us out of, and turn around with an excellent 16 point turn. Super effort.
No, I did not cross the bridge. I admit my limitations, and it was not something I needed to do. I was happy to see it, watch others cross, and take photos.
But I did have an interesting exchange with some of the locals. Btw - this event is really a local indigenous event. There may have been some tourists there, but they certainly would have been a minority. So as we walked down to the bridge, we passed a group of 4 girls in traditional garments. One of them said, 'photo, photo'. And thinking they wanted me to take their photo and pay as is the custom here in Cusco, I explained that I didn't have a camera with me. Thier gestures indicated they wanted a photo with their camera, of me ( the odd one out, white lady) with them. What a turn around. We continued our conversations, all jumbled - me thinking one said she was learning English, and one of our group explaining to me that she wanted to learn English from me. It was a lot of fun.
The rest of the group made it across the bridge, and back.
We wandered up to see the festivities. A stage, musicians, dance groups ( understood later there was a dance competition), market stalls, food, drink, and spectators everywhere, even on the high hillsides. A truely local crowd.
Such a privilege.
Read more about this Inca Bridge.
More photos here.
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