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LIMA to CUSCO
My arrival into lima airport was a lot better than I had anticipated. I was warned on several occasions about bogus taxi drivers involved in mugging and kidnapping tourists, so my anxiety was sufficient enough to book a transfer to my hotel. After a very long flight, I was delighted to see my taxi driver waiting patiently and he greeted me with a big smile and helped me with my luggage.The airport arrivals was no different to most other city airports I had been to and there is sufficient security and official taxi drivers around, which made me wonder what all the hype was about.
So, feeling rather relieved, I got into the back of the taxi and striked up conversation with the driver - eager to resurrect my Spanish skills.He locked the doors for security, well, we are in a busy city at nearly midnight after all. Still feeling slightly paranoid, I told myself to stop being silly and carried on the conversation. My driver asked if I liked the beach and I replied 'yes, although I prefer the mountains' and he replied 'we go to the beach' and took a sharp right down a dimly-lit street. I nervously replied 'ok', trying to convince myself that he was being friendly, but as the minutes rolled by, my heart starting beating faster and I had visions of how I would plan my retaliation when he attacked me. After a while, we drove past the rather sorry looking beach and I said 'we really should get straight to the hotel' and he replied 'we are - this is just the scenic route!'… it turns out he was being friendly after all. I then resigned myself to stop being so bloody paranoid and wished I hadn't listened to anyone else.This was a quick lesson in how NOT to travel, because I quickly realised that my instinct is spot on and my belief that people are genuinely nice if you plan well and keep your head screwed on will make the trip a lot more enjoyable.
Finally I reached my hotel room to meet Clalia from Canada, who is also trekking the Inca Trail to Macchu Piccu, along with 2 friends. We had a brief chat and I fell asleep for a few hours, before we were woken for our early morning transfer - back to Lima airport, for the first flight to Cusco.
The flight to Cusco was just over an hour and LAN airlines lived up to their good reputation. I sat next to a nun and wondered what she was thinking as she sat there, perfectly still, for the duration of the flight. I gazed out of the window at the Andes below, which seemed to go on forever. I took some pictures and wondered once more what the nun must have been thinking. I was tempted to strike up conversation but decided it was much more fun to imagine what was going through her mind. How itchy her skirt was perhaps, or whether God would forgive her for thinking how hot the flight attendant was.
We touched down in Cusco and were transferred to our hotel - Hotel Prisma.There were about 10 other people going on the expedition, all very excited.There was an Irish couple on their honeymoon, a couple from the States and some ever-so-slightly older ladies on a girly holiday from Canada.They looked fit as fiddles and I felt a pang of nervousness about how much (or little) preparation I had done for this trip.
For the rest of the day I explored Cusco, a delightful little town, bustling with tourists and traditionally dressed locals.I marvelled at the craftsmanship at the market and treated myself to an alpaca hat or two, with gloves and scarf to match.Apparently, it would get very cold at nights and what better way to keep warm than with some proper knitwear. #
Another thing I was warned about was altitude sickness, and I have to admit I was curious to see whether or not it would affect me. Well it did. Dizzy, queasy and VERY short of breath was an experience I wished I didn't have to go through. Coca tea was the remedy apparently, so I put a generous amount of coca leaves in my cup and topped with boiling water. It didn't help much, so when a dose of altitude sickness tablets was offered by my Canadian comrade, I obliged with much gratitude.
We were briefed for the trek and I got an early night, trying to catch up with a lot of lost sleep and hoping I felt better for the next day, when our true adventure began.
INCA TRAIL BEGINS
We woke early in the morning and I felt rotten. I forced down a light breakfast of bread, cucumber, avocado and tomato and returned to my room to pack my bags. We had been given a duffel bag to fill with our necessities for the trek, with a weight restriction of just 4kg! The porters have a weight limit of6kg per person, and my sleeping bag and thermarest mat weighed 2kg. So I packed a few t-shirts, a spare pair of trousers and some multi-purpose wash, not to forget the socks - as I knew they would definitely not be able to be recycled from one day to the next.
I dragged myself onto the bus, feeling sorry for myself, accompanied by my new tent-mate for the trip - Alison.Our first stop was a GAP funded community-based project, where the woman sell their handmade knitwear.It was a nice introduction to the traditions of the Sacred Valley of Cusco and they seemed happy and content, dressed in their traditional gear (which they dress in permanently, it wasn't just for show).The children are dressed more modern, with scruffy hair and dirty clothing, playing happily. The toilets were back to basics and it was a crash course in how to hover and stop your trouser bottoms being dragged through the mess on the floor. I tried not to breathe through my nose as I was already feeling sick as a dog. I bought a few handmade finger puppets, took some pictures and clambered back on the bus, wishing I could be transported a few thousand metres down from the altitude.
We went on to our next stop for lunch, at a beautiful restaurant hidden away in the valleys. I had managed to sleep on the bus, so feeling slightly invigorated, I piled my plate high with fresh salad and fish and got to know my trekking buddies.With the sound of traditional Andean music in the background, it finally hit me that I was actually in Peru, after months of planning. I even splashed out on a CD by the live musicians to remind me of that moment.
After lunch we headed on to Ollyantambo, where we would spend the night. Our guide, Cesar - a knowledgeable, expressive young Peruvian, with a lot of flair and a great communicator - showed us our first Inca ruin and I listened intently.The engineering skills of the Inca's was apparent, and I knew that this trip was going to surpass my expectations and alter my perception of what a 'civilised' or 'modern' society is.By the time we made our way back to the hotel, I felt hungry for more knowledge about the magnificence of the Inca's and the altitude sickness almost paled into insignificance, had it not been for the constant feeling of breathlessess.
Myself and Alison ate a light dinner in a local café, which donates all profits to local families in need of support. I felt sad at how local families, mostly poor, do not have access to medical and educational facilities and was glad that we ate there.The local square was bustling with tourists and locals selling bread and other snacks, they just sit there on an upturned bucket waiting for customers. I wondered how they could make any money, when 4 people in a row are selling the same products.
We got an early night at our cute little hotel, small rooms surrounding a nice courtyard. The Inca trail began the next morning.
Ourbus trip to the starting point was in typical Latin American style, with the driver squeezing through spaces that didn't seem possible and veering over to the wrong side of the road a few times, but we made it to the starting point and joined a queue of other eager trekkers, ready to face the challenges of the Inca Trail.
Cesar isn't one to dilly-dally and we were off like Linford Christie after our passports had been checked and a photo taken of our group.Within minutes I was trailing behind, short of breath and struggling to keep up. Willy, the assistant guide, stayed at the back with me and I took the opportunity of learning about his life and vice versa, we quickly became buddies and I started to enjoy being at the back, taking in the scenery and doing the best I could.
We walked for a few hours and stopped for our first lunch. The porters run ahead of us to set up camp, with the head chef concocting a delightful lunch of soup, followed by chicken, veg and rice. It was fun sitting in the tent and chatting excitedly about our experience so far. There was a makeshift toilet set up for erm, number 2's; the bush made an appropriate spot for number 1's. We let our lunch settle and we went on to the first Inca ruin and Cesar proceeded to tell us all about the start of the Inca trail. I couldn't do it justice to explain so I won't! Cesar was keen to point out that we must not approach the Inca trail like 'robots' as most of the other trekkers do, but to really appreciate the beauty of the trail - how we are walking in the footsteps of the Inca's and how lucky we are to do so. I had felt this already, but was glad for this to be confirmed. I felt a genuine spiritual aspect to the trip, not in the religious sense, but from an ecological and historical perspective; the Inca's certainly knew how to conserve the land and work with the geological challenges that the Andes imposed on them. Indeed, they worshipped the mountains, air and water and we chewed coca leaves in respect.
The trek continued and we eventually arrived at the camp, weary but satisfied, and tucked into another delightful meal. The toilets were not to be remembered, although I hoped that the smell was coming from the two , rather amorous donkeys that were tethered nearby.
I managed to sleep well in the tent, although awoke rather chilly in the night! We were given a very early morning wake-up call (it was still dark - 5am ish) and the porter greeted us bleary-eyed campers with tea and a bowl of hot water.
We continued our ascent on day 2, with me trailing at the back yet again.I had moments where I felt like a wimp, struggling to drag myself up more steps. But with Willy for company, I made it through the day.
We camped for 3 nights altogether and I managed to get a cold shower on day 2 (accidentally using the men's!) and a hot shower on day 3 - smelling glorious for our very early morning start on day 4 - the final day when we reached Macchu Piccu.I am surprised to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the camping, I found it fun and knew it made the whole experience more genuine and memorable.Getting to know Cesar and getting a feel for Peruvian life was really great, it confirmed my goals for a career in ecology, respecting nature and cultural traditions. But that is another story for another time.
On day 4, we woke in the dark and raced, with 'Major' Cesar leading the trek in military style. Luckily I had acclimatised by this point and kept up with the 'troops'! We arrived at Sun Gate for sunrise, which bathed the wonderous Macchu Piccu in a sea of golden rays and it felt magical to be spectating. Even if it was only a matter of minutes before the place was swarming with tourists who had got the first bus from Aguas Calientes. Cesar gave us a guided tour and left us to wander, before we headed back on the bus.
Eventually we got back to Cusco and all enjoyed a hot shower before going to a plush restaurant with Cesar.It dawned on me just how powerful an experience the trek had been and I was sad for it to be over, although I was buzzing with excitement still.
After a few Cairprinhas (excuse spelling) and a delicious steak, we all said our goodbyes before I got an early night as I was catching a morning flight back to the lovely Lima once again.
I am now sitting in my hotel room in Lima, wondering how to edit my memoirs to truly reflect the magnificence of the Inca trail - the ups and downs, the mind-blowing scenery and impeccable historical knowledge imparted by Cesar. But I can't do it justice in words alone, the pictures will help, but to appreciate it, you really have to have done it yourself. I can't recommend it enough, do something life changing while you can, you certainly won't regret it. And in the words of Cesar "be human beings; not human doings". What more is there to say?
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