Out of Lima we climbed on this rocky mountain railway through the desert smog and up chugging by fields of cactus.
Galera station, 4,781m (15,700 ft) above sea level, near the summit of the 12-hour, 335km (210-mile) Lima to Huancayo rail journey.
I had firstread about the Tren del Sierra a long time ago on my favorite resource for all things rail - themaninseat61.com which is a fantastic travel site for anyone who loves train travel. This 13 hour jouney boasted one incredible record - The 332 kilometer journet is the highest passenger train in the whole world. It was the dream of an American industrialist who waved aside scepticism, saying he could build a train wherever a llama could cross. The result was the work of 10,000 Peruvian, Chilean and Chinese laborers. Work began in 1869 - Fighting floods, landslides, disease and mountainous terrain, only 9km of track were then laid per year. The death toll among workers was high, topping 2,000. Upon completion in 1908 it was hailed as one of the engineering marvels of the world.
It is a majestic ride that only just reopened to tourists, shedding the previous name ´tren de la muerte´ probably for better branding. After all this unusual journey is up to 4,871m. The train cruises at an average elevation of 3,330 metres covering 58 bridges, 69 tunnels, 6 switchbacks, and I heard it has 1 nurse on board to handle cases of altitude sickness!
Steph >> Two minutes into the journey and we were passing through 'real' Lima. Our guide book warned that we might see shanty towns resembling the developing world during a visit to this city but until now we had only really seen shopping malls, business districts and the colonial buildings of the old town.
What a contrast this was! Chris commented that he hadn't seen so much litter and strewn plastic since India. It's true, we passed so much rubbish at the sides of roads. Like in countries such as Turkey, houses were mainly left unfinished after one storie though with the empty shell ready for a second and third. Perhaps it's for tax reasons that this is the case, we're not sure.
We passed through streets of houses built from what looked like mud bricks (we later learned this is called 'adobe') where people of all ages stopped by the side of the tracks to wave. Many put their hands over their ears to escape the incredible noise coming from our train, not helped by the driver sounding the horn constantly to warn people away from these little used tracks. The waving made it feel like a real occasion that our train was passing through. Even the dogs chased our train through their towns, barking loudly so we knew they meant business.
It was still only 7.15am yet gardeners were already at work raking the grassy parks, children dressed in clean, brightly coloured school tracksuits were on their way to school in tuk tuks and old men were out for morning walks. Talking to a school girl on the bus the day before, I had learned that school here in Lima starts at 7.30 and finishes at 2.30: they certainly start early here in Peru. It wasn't yet 7.30am but the morning light saw whole shanty towns alive and buzzing.
There was no break in urban living after an hour and a half. One town merges into another town. Aside from the announcement on the train we would've had no idea that we had reached the town of Sainta Clara, 1300km above sea level. The train had been climbing so gradually we could barely tell it was going up hill. We had a lot further to go before we reaves the highest passenger station in the world...
Chris and I couldn't imagine living every day in the middle of a cloud... Lima was bad enough with it's smog-like, cloudy skies but as we ascended higher we passed through towns where you could barely see as far as the other side of a road due to being inside the clouds. Luckily for us, we didn't have to wait long before the train ascended even higher, rising us up above the cloud cover and revealing a dazzilingly bright, sunny day. It was bizarre to think back five minutes to the people who live their lives in towns shrouded by clouds while their neighbours just a few minutes drive away enjoyed endless hours of daily sunshine.
So, excited as I was to embark, let me start from the begining with Steph´s impressions since I definetly dragged her into this one...
Steph > When our taxi driver dropped us off at 'Lima Central' it was still pitch dark and we had to confirm with him twice that the train did actually leave from here. He had dropped us at the national archives, an immense building behind the presidential palace that looked ominous in the glare of street lights. Armed guards lined up outside, flowing over from the presidential palace and adding to our suspicion that this couldn't possibly be the train station.
Slowly but surely travellers began to arrive to this dark corner of town and put an end to our worries. Or so we thought. Stupidly, Chris and I hadn't printed our train tickets but had expected the same treatment as we would from an airline when we have electronic tickets. We turned up with only our passports and hadn't even remembered our booking references; the guard was having none of our nonsense obviously as he let through only people with their printed tickets. Chris had to get his netbook out for all the world to see and wait a good ten minutes for it to warm up before showing the guard our electronic ticket. Such a palarva and only ourselves to blame; we almost missed this train that only leaves once per month because we hadn't thought to print our tickets! And we call ourselves experiences travellers.
We were whisked off down a side alley and before we could question whether the alley leading from the national archives could possibly house a train platform, there it was in front of us: the Tren del Sierra. By the time we pulled out of the station (on time!!) at 7am, it was already light.
Steph > When our taxi driver dropped us off at 'Lima Central' it was still pitch dark and we had to confirm with him twice that the train did actually leave from here. He had dropped us at the national archives, an immense building behind the presidential palace that looked ominous in the glare of street lights. Armed guards lined up outside, flowing over from the presidential palace and adding to our suspicion that this couldn't possibly be the train station.
Slowly but surely travellers began to arrive to this dark corner of town and put an end to our worries. Or so we thought. Stupidly, Chris and I hadn't printed our train tickets but had expected the same treatment as we would from an airline when we have electronic tickets. We turned up with only our passports and hadn't even remembered our booking references; the guard was having none of our nonsense obviously as he let through only people with their printed tickets. Chris had to get his netbook out for all the world to see and wait a good ten minutes for it to warm up before showing the guard our electronic ticket. Such a palarva and only ourselves to blame; we almost missed this train that only leaves once per month because we hadn't thought to print our tickets! And we call ourselves experiences travellers.
We were whisked off down a side alley and before we could question whether the alley leading from the national archives could possibly house a train platform, there it was in front of us: the Tren del Sierra. By the time we pulled out of the station (on time!!) at 7am, it was already light.
We slowly chugged our way from Desamparados ´central´station, whose name translates as "the forsaken" and through the half finished barrios. The train cars wobbled from side to side as the horn rang incessently to get obstacles out of the way.
Steph and I were in the backpacker car - a steal for an experience of this magnitude - which cost only 25 pounds instead of the Sheffield-built luxury pullman car seats that went for 35. We were still served hot meals in the velvet seats of this old eastern european carriage. Steph was fascinated by the Lima landscapes and continued to write these thoughts down in her moleskine.
Steph >> Two minutes into the journey and we were passing through 'real' Lima. Our guide book warned that we might see shanty towns resembling the developing world during a visit to this city but until now we had only really seen shopping malls, business districts and the colonial buildings of the old town.
What a contrast this was! Chris commented that he hadn't seen so much litter and strewn plastic since India. It's true, we passed so much rubbish at the sides of roads. Like in countries such as Turkey, houses were mainly left unfinished after one storie though with the empty shell ready for a second and third. Perhaps it's for tax reasons that this is the case, we're not sure.
We passed through streets of houses built from what looked like mud bricks (we later learned this is called 'adobe') where people of all ages stopped by the side of the tracks to wave. Many put their hands over their ears to escape the incredible noise coming from our train, not helped by the driver sounding the horn constantly to warn people away from these little used tracks. The waving made it feel like a real occasion that our train was passing through. Even the dogs chased our train through their towns, barking loudly so we knew they meant business.
It was still only 7.15am yet gardeners were already at work raking the grassy parks, children dressed in clean, brightly coloured school tracksuits were on their way to school in tuk tuks and old men were out for morning walks. Talking to a school girl on the bus the day before, I had learned that school here in Lima starts at 7.30 and finishes at 2.30: they certainly start early here in Peru. It wasn't yet 7.30am but the morning light saw whole shanty towns alive and buzzing.
The ground was incredibly dry and dusty, even though we still hadn't left the city. I remember being shocked at the sheer amount of dust, this being before I discovered Lima to be a desert city..
There was no break in urban living after an hour and a half. One town merges into another town. Aside from the announcement on the train we would've had no idea that we had reached the town of Sainta Clara, 1300km above sea level. The train had been climbing so gradually we could barely tell it was going up hill. We had a lot further to go before we reaves the highest passenger station in the world...
Chris and I couldn't imagine living every day in the middle of a cloud... Lima was bad enough with it's smog-like, cloudy skies but as we ascended higher we passed through towns where you could barely see as far as the other side of a road due to being inside the clouds. Luckily for us, we didn't have to wait long before the train ascended even higher, rising us up above the cloud cover and revealing a dazzilingly bright, sunny day. It was bizarre to think back five minutes to the people who live their lives in towns shrouded by clouds while their neighbours just a few minutes drive away enjoyed endless hours of daily sunshine.
At 11am, after only four hours on the train, Chris declared that "this is already one of my favourite things on our whole trip".
With 40 per cent less oxygen than at sea level, Ticlio and the Galera station were dizzying and dreamlike.
And stunning it was from start to finish. I really can´t describe it. The journey was so thrilling that my books, postcards and ipod was never even touched. I'd never witnessed a turntable at much less the switchbacks that were best appreciated from the caboose, an open air bar car. Farmers tipped their hats and boys waived enthusiastically as the train does not run by often. Soon we crossed the 'Infernillo´ bridge (little he'll) which is one of seven engineering wonders of the world and the highest railway bridge.
We never needed the nurse on board probably because I drink water until my eyes drowned and I also tried my first coca tea which is supposed to settle your system in high altitudes. I watched as our dorito bag expanded until it popped open with a big bang. We were immune until...
I had a walk around the world´s highest railway station and nearly stumbled over the tracks with dizziness and dragging legs.
Just when Steph and I later agreed that this journey could not have been more perfect, a party was announced with free pisco sours and a dance competition in the caboose! We won´t forget this trip to Huancayo any time soon - it truly was one of the highlights of our year.
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