Out of the numerous, beautiful hotels we resided at over the course of the expedition, although it is hard to choose a favorite, I think we all utterly enjoyed spending the night at the Inkaterra Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel, a private, mountainside reserve in Aguas Calientes, a small village that sits right alongside the train tracks and the Vilcanota River. (Up against gigantic towering mountains, it is almost as if Aguas Calientes is a tiny toy town!)Nestled cozily at the foot of jungle-blanketed mountains, not only was it an absolutely stunning inn, complete with beautiful outdoor plazas and stone-covered walkways, profuse and teeming with a vibrant array of delicate, blossoming flowers and native Peruvian decorations, but the Inkaterra was also a great educator--one that taught us all a meaningful lesson.
The rooms made us feel like we were lodging in a small, quaint cottage - a bungalow, really. The doors were made of tall, dark timber, and ivory-colored walls surrounded them. To our surprise, there were no doorknobs or key-card slots on the doors. There was a huge iron keyhole, though. We were each given a large metal ring with a single, old-fashioned key hanging from it to unlock our timber doors so that we could step inside our rooms.
The ceilings of the rooms were ashen, with coffee-colored timber rods and beams stretching across from wall to wall, like in a little cabin (they called the rooms "casitas"). Blanketing the beds were soft white sheets and a brightly checkered throw. A welcoming, comfortable set of brown chairs and a short wooden table sat in the corner by two tall windows overlooking the exquisite scenery of the hotel. The bathrooms were small and modest, consisting of a short sink, toilet, and crammed--but luxurious--shower.
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