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Days 5 to 8
The Inca Trail
Miles walked = 26
Disclaimer: This is a very long blog post! I wanted to capture as much of the journey as I could, but I forgive you if you get bored.Other, shorter blog posts are probably available. J
Day 5 (Day 1 of the trail, Monday)
I awoke at 4.30am. Pick up was between 5am and 5.30am.I found I had a nose bleed, which was another way the altitude was affecting me.I dressed quickly and wrestled my bag into the Hostel storage and waited in reception.There I met two others who were also doing the trail with the company Peru Treks, Karl (from the Wirral) and Joey (from Nebrasca).We chatted while we waited for our bus, and Joey left pretty close to 5am.Karl and I were on the same bus that came a bit later and we set off on our journey.
As dawn broke, I was able to see the beautiful scenery on our way to the village of Ollantaytambo where we would have breakfast.Most people slept on the bus, and eventually, I fell asleep too.We got to Ollantaytambo about 7.30am and we all introduced ourselves around the table.There were 14 of us in total, from the USA, (Teel, Arel, Lauren and Chris) UK (Harriet, Jim, Karl, Sarah, me), Sweden (Jim) and Australia (Teneille, Jess, Brett and Helen) and we were all aged between 22 and 35.We were the last group to arrive and so we had to wait for the buffet breakfast to be replenished: scrambled eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit and bread.We also had a chance to stock up on supplies, including coca leaves, hats, ponchos and walking sticks.One of the guides said the stick needed to be about chest height, so I selected a black one with carvings of the condor and snake on it.Then it was back on the bus to travel to Kilometre 82, the start of the Inca Trail on the railway track to Aguas Calientes, the nearest place to Macchu Piccu.We piled off the bus and there were a few nervous moments amongst those of us who had hired an extra porter making sure our bags were not over the allowed 6kg per person (Peru Treks pride themselves on not overloading their porters) and then we set off with day packs, or our full packs for those people who valiantly decided to carry their gear for the full trek.
As soon as we set off, it started to rain.Out came the ponchos and rain gear. William and Manuel, our two guides for the trek, gathered all of our cameras and took photos of the whole group under the sign for the start of the trail.This was done very quickly, partly because of the rain and partly because there were other groups waiting for the same photo opportunity.The guides helped us negotiate our way through the entrance gate and across the bridge, which Will informed us was a recent addition following several people dying via the pulley system and basket that used to be in place to cross the very angry looking Urubamba river.Apparently people can 'river run' or white water raft on this river which I found remarkable as the currents looked immense and ready to eat any raft that cared to cross their path.
We walked up a short incline and stopped and Will asked the whole group to introduce themselves, saying where they were from and how long they were travelling for.He also showed us a white flower, which had a local name that I cannot recall but was known locally as the trumpet flower: the sap apparently could make you hallucinate and believe you could fly up and down the Inca Trail.We also stopped in front of a sign that showed the elevation of the trail and the altitude rises and falls we would experience over the next few days.We all smiled confidently: this is what we were expecting, wasn't it?We continued to our lunch point.The walk was relatively easy going, with some steep up hill parts and many flat sections, hugging the railway line for much of the morning. More frustrating was the rain and mist that this generated, obscuring all our views.We did get to see our first Inca site though: Llactapata, a small town, Will explained to us, with agricultural terraces like the many others we had already seen in the surrounding countryside.
Lunch was our first real experience of just how incredible the Inca Trail operation was.'Military' might be one term, but I am not sure that aptly describes how the porters had rushed passed us early in the morning, laden with pots, pans, tents, food, their own clothes, our clothes, water, rubbish bags and gas canisters.I feel I need to say just a few words about the porters before I talk about lunch.Most porters in our group, we were assured, were not carrying more than 20kg, something Peru Treks prides itself on.This is partly why our tour costs more than other operators: because the welfare of the porters means that extra numbers are needed for a relatively small group.For example, there were 17 porters for our group of 14, plus 2 additional porters carrying the gear for those of us who had opted for this service.However, we did see some porters rush past us over the morning who were clearly carrying nearer 30kg.Many of the porters do this in thin leather sandals, something that is allowed apparently, but made all of us marvel nonetheless.Someone said to me a few days after the trail that if their camera and Spanish had been adequate enough, they could have done a whole exhibition using photographs of their feet, posture and stories.
We all began our mutual appreciation of the job the porters did as we arrived at lunch, where we were greeted with bowls of hot water and soap to wash our hands and a tissue dispensed by one of the porters to dry our hands with.We all entered the dining tent, which had been speedily erected in advance of our arrival and had a very short wait before we were all served with an individual portion of avocado, olives, tomatoes and cheese, before getting a hearty meal of 'baby condor' (which was really chicken!) and rice.We were so grateful for the food which was nutritious but also extremely tasty.
After lunch we continued on our way to Wallybamba (alt. 3100m) which was our camp for the first night.Once again, the porters rushed past us: we kept mountainside as they overtook speedily, often accompanied by shouts of "porters!" so that their passage was not impeded.There was a steeper climb to reach camp and we all made it (received by a round of applause form the waiting porters).Some of the group had already decided that their packs might need the services of additional 'unofficial' porters the following day (these are local people from the villages en route who make a bit of money by carrying packs for weary travellers).At this point I decided that each of you who advised on the extra porter for my sleeping bag and mat that I had hired (3kg) and the extra 3kg of my belongings would get a big kiss as a thank you when I got home (watch out Kate, Kerry and Guy!).The advice you gave was correct, the trail was tough (for me) and not having to worry about the pack did make sense, and I was reassured by having already seen that the Peru Treks porters weighed their loads to ensure that they were evenly distributed each morning.I know some people felt we were shirking our responsibilities (we have arms and legs of our own) but I do agree that this was a job for some of the people working their and their acclimatisation and speed made it easier for them than it was for many of us.I knew that I would tip my porter well for his fantastic work.
We all were allocated tents, and then some of the group shared a hard earned, but expensive beer (though everyone agreed that if some poor person had had to lug the whole lot up to camp, they deserved a few pennies more for their efforts).We marvelled at the snow capped mountains that surrounded the camp site and then feasted on yet another fabulous meal, and although we were chatting excitedly, everyone decided to go to bed early in time for the following day's walking.We all knew Day 2 involved the steepest and longest climb upwards, as well as the reward of the highest point.
Day 6 (Day 2 of the trail, Tuesday)
We were awoken by a 'knock' on the tent from Manuel and a porter brandishing a 'room service' of hot drinks (coca tea, normal tea, coffee, or hot chocolate) and we had about half an hour to pack up our things and head for the dining tent for a breakfast of pancakes and fresh fruit, and a liquid porridge which I really quite enjoyed.Some of the group had slept better than others, and we were all less than thrilled with the 'hole in the ground' toilet situation (like Turkish toilets apparently), but we were in good spirits.Again, the rain came along with the mists, which rolled on and off the surrounding hills as the rain got heavier and lighter.At times in the early morning, I knew I could feel the sun trying to break through, but it just wasn't successful, and we knew we were in for a wet day.
Most of the morning was a reasonably gentle climb through woodland, past waterfalls and with the noise of the tumbling river occupying my thoughts.We all met up at the first rest point, some people fuelled up with chocolate bars, and others stopped for water.The strangest thing was how warm trekking made us all, but how we couldn't evaporate the heat because of the waterproofs or ponchos we needed to wear to stay dry.We then continued at our own pace until lunch.I knew I was in the middle to the end of the group, and spent a lot of time walking alone that morning, but I was quite content with this.Occasionally, as the steps became steeper, and the mountain air felt thinner, I would have to stop and catch my breath.I ended up chatting to other trekkers from different groups.Often these people would overtake me and then I would catch them as they paused for breath, repeating this cycle many times over the next hour and a half: we would all step aside for the sturdy porters, for whom the rain seemed to make little difference.The funniest moment was when a huge herd of llamas and alpacas thundered up behind us, shepherded by one lone man and a long haired dog, that we had seen earlier that day and Teel had described as the 'dirtiest dog in the world' as its hair was matted with mud.As you know, my Spanish is extremely minimal, but I did understand the brief exchange the man had with one of the girls I was walking with, that the dog thought he was an alpaca!
By lunch, I was cold.I arrived at the tent, not last, but certainly tired and worse for wear. Many of the others, Karl and Teel in particular who were carrying their full packs, seem to have found the whole limb little more than a morning stroll.I was very impressed by everyone'sfitness levels.I piled on all of the warm layers I could from my day pack, and donated spares to Jess, who having got the additional porter for the day had been reduced to carrying a small plastic bag with her belongings (rather than a day pack like the rest of us).My hands were terribly cold though and not even the hearty soup, main course and tea helped me to thaw out.
The rest of the group set off, but I was struggling to fasten my waterproofs.My hands were now pale white from the knuckles upwards, and the rest a painful pink.Luckily I had packed chemical hand warmers, or 'hotties'.I had discovered these via my friend Laura, on a snowy New Year's Eve in 2008, so I am grateful for her foresight as even the guides had not seen these before.Cleverly, they suggested I put them inside my gloves and I continued on my way, again passing the same groups of people I had before, and worried I would be on my own whenI reached the highest point, Dead Woman's Pass at 4200m.The steps were now relentless.I was stopping every twenty paces for breath and ended up walking with a group from various parts of the UK.Their guide kept saying 'ten nimutes to the top', and as ten minutes passed and more stairs could be seen round the corner, their morale dipped' .Luckily, Manuel kept appearing and urging me on, more realistic with his timing estimates of 50 minutes, then half an hour then 20 minutes.
The rain was slowing but the mists were still obscuring any views, thatI knew were stunning and would have taken the edge off the shortness of breath I was experiencing.Eventually, I caught Brett and Helen and I fell in to stride with them.Brett and I were struggling a lot more than Helen and as we neared the top, she ran on taking my camera to capture me victorious as I gave one last effort to get up the last few steps to Warmiwanusca (Dead Woman's Pass, so called because the shape of the mountain resembled a dead woman from below, although one member of our group wanted to know why the woman was dead and not sleeping!).At the top, Teneille and Jess, Chris and Lauren and Will were already waiting and so we had a 'half group' photo as the others had already begun their descent to camp.This was the highest I had ever been in my life, and the fact that I had walked it did give me a sense of achievement, despite the view being a non-existent page of whiteness.
We began the long descent to camp, Brett and I both agreeing we far preferred this part of the walk.We arrived about 3pm (the camp of course was already set up), with 'tea and snacks' scheduled for 5pm and dinner for 6.30pm.I went for a short lie down and awoke after an unexpected siesta to find a version of the card game 's***head' underway in the dining tent, with an amalgamation of 4 different sets of rules.Dinner followed promptly (including a special flambed pudding) and a very early night.We were at around 3700m that night and I wore every layer I had, along with my alpaca hat and used the remnant heat from the hand warmers as hot water bottles.
Day 7 (Day 3 of the trail, Wednesday)
Again, another early wake up call and breakfast.I had believed the uphill was over, but it turned out that the descent we had made last night required another steep ascent today.Again, I took my time and hung back in the group.We got to the first meeting point, and we then continued to the Inca Ruin of Runkurakay, a circular shaped building that may have been a look out or a store house (but not a temple as it was built in the rustic style and not the mortarless style reserved for temples.Will told us to select a stone to take up to the next highest point as an offering.He said that those of us with big wishes should select bigger stones, to which Jim promptly selected a large boulder to the amusement of the group.We all walked pretty much together to the highest point (3950m) and had a group photo (again enshrouded by mist) and then the group was told to go at their own pace until lunch.
We also briefly visted another Inca Ruin (Phuyupatamarka) and we were all glad of the rest, until the heavens opened again and we started to get wet while Will told us about the history of the site.From there, we were assured it was 40 minutes to the lunch site, but the path meandered down for a short way (again I felt very comfortable with this), before undulating up and down for what was definitely longer than we had been led to expect.I caught up with Arel, who had been poorly for most of the trek and walked with him until we reached the lunch point.I knew from the previous day that walking alone could be hard to keep motivation, so we walked together expecting the others to catch us, but they didn't.That was a hard section for me, because I think I had reassured myself Day 3 would be all downhill (literally) and so far it had involved another steep climb and a very un-flat part.
After another excellent lunch, the descent did begin.At first we all walked together, Teel, Sarah and I swapping stories of school assemblies and hymns.Then I found that I really couldn't do this part slowly (Brett described himself as a 'born descender' and I certainly felt this way too) as I followed Jim who nimbly side stepped porters, slippy steps and other trekkers alike (even the girl who stopped abruptly in the middle of the steps each time somebody yelled 'porter'.She also said to her follower trekker that he could go by, but he pointed out she was kind of in the way and so he couldn't).We raced down the long descent stopping at scenic points, again trying to make out bits of the countryside through the mist.I was thrilled when someone said 'stand aside, fast people coming through'!We reached the fork in the trail that Will had told us about.Left was the 'long' route (50 minutes to camp, with a ruin and a scenic view) or right was the 'short' route (20 minutes to camp).As we got there, the sun had finally broken through the mist.We made a quick decision to take advantage of this and chose the scenic way.It was absolutely worth it, as we reached the Intipata ruin - beautiful terraces, a dodgy footbridge over a steep drop and the sun shining over a breathtaking view.We felt so lucky to have seen it, and really hoped the others made it before the clouds rolled in as we descended to Winay Wayna campsite where the porters were, of course, waiting.Again, more card games and dinner ensued - including cucumbers crafted into bird shapes and the chef's piece de resistance - a full cake he had baked that day.We were amazed and grateful and we gathered our tips together and Karl made a speech in Spanish as the tips were distributed.I cannot express how in awe we all were of these people who made our trip so much more enjoyable, and indeed possible in the first instance.Again, an early night was needed, although some people did wander up to the 'bar' and hot showers.
Day 8 (Day 4 of the trail, Thursday)
The earliest start yet, at 3.30am.There was no 'room service' today, and w all dressed quickly and ate our breakfast, eager to set off to join the 'queue' at the gate to the final part of the trail.We had heard a huge downpour during the night and were hoping the rain would hold off. We got to the gate at about 4.45am, and were among the first groups within what can only described as a trekkers' holding pen.We knew we had a 45 minute wait before the journey could begin.
Finally, the lights came on in the cabins, and the gates squeaked open, and the tourists began to shuffle their way through, led by their guides.Will gathered us together quickly and said that it was important to 'keep mountainside' today: there would be no porters, but people may try to pass us on the slippery, narrow path. Will's advice was to let them past, then push them off…! Our turn to pass through the gate came and we were off.One and a half hours of brisk pace, and within ten minutes the rain had started.The dawn was breaking around us, and we were tracing the side of the mountain, round and up towards the Sun Gate, the cleverly constructed structure that the Incas designed to align the sun as it rose with the sight of Macchu Piccu.The group held together well, and only two or three people passed us.We reached the final set of stairs, and for once, I pushed on without stopping for breath.I knew that I was nearly at the end and, despite my tiredness, this spurred me on.
Eventually, we were there, all 14 of us stood on the site of the Sun Gate, high above the site of the Macchu Piccu ruins.I couldn't believe we had made it.I located my celebratory Snickers bar, bought 4 days previously, that Karl and I had strategically allocated to this very moment (the Twix ot the spot at the highest point on Day 2).I had a glug of water from my bottle, and looked around to find my group.They were stood looking down over Macchu Piccu.The trouble was, once again, the weather had thwarted our efforts, and all we could see was a white swirling mist.We knew our prize was at the bottom of the valley, but the impenetrable whiteness meant we were not going to view the site we had all so desperately longed for.We tried to keep our spirits up, taking group photos, and joking with Will about whichof us would make the best sacrifice to the Gods to improve the weather.Will gathered us together, and with a final 'vamos!', we all began the descent to the ruins site.
Now I am not sure if it was just me falling into my own silent contemplation (had I come all this way not to be able to see the one sight/site I wanted to?), but there was a subdued hush amongst all of the groups of trekkers as people started to walk down the hill.Some of our group were struggling with old injuries, and I hung back with Jess (who was bravely fighting against a tired knee) and Teneille, discussing whether we could change our train tickets back to Cusco if the weather didn't clear.We got to the bottom of the hill and again, the knowledge of what was lying under the blanked of morning fog was palpable.Will spotted us, and came over.He told us we had to keep positive.I explained that I was worried that my once in a life time opportunity (I couldn't see myself coming back here in the near future) might have been victim of the greatest of all British obsessions: the weather.Will said he was confident that by mid-morning, it would be fine and that we were lucky to have the magical opportunity to watch the mist burn off and the beautiful view emerge from the swirling clouds.
We descended again to the main gate, where hoardes of tourists from the nearest town of Aguas Calientes (literally 'hot waters') were queuing to get in, as excited as we had been an hour previously.I also knew they had far more energy in their legs to climb up to the Sun Gate from where we had just come down, and was aware that many of them would climb Winay Piccu (the famous dome shaped mound you see behind the ruins site in the pictures).Even if my legs had been capable of carrying me back up such a hill, we knew that we would be unlikely to be one of the 400 people who had already been queuing for tickets for this privileged view.Two of our group, Lauren and Chris, had decided o stay overnight and tackle Winay Piccu the following day.I had already promised myself no more hills for the whole trip.
We exited the park (rules state that trekkers must do this, and leave their packs and poles at the gate to preserve the ruins).There was considerable and surprising excitement amongst the girls (myself included) at the flushing, clean toilets, with an attendant that dished out paper at the entrance gate and equal amounts of trepidation at the prospect of seeing ourselves in a mirror after 4 days of downpours, sweat and no showers.Others were equally excited by the cold Coca Cola at the restaurant.We all sorted ourselves out and met Will to return into the Inca site.
We walked back up the hill (I clearly wasn't the only one with stiff calves and a weary feeling) and sat down on the grass of one of the agricultural terraces.At that moment, we realised Will was right.As he started to explain how Macchu Piccu had been found, overgrown and unloved just about a century ago, the clouds began to lift, givng us a peek at the prize we had all trekked 26 miles for.The function of the site was unknown, Will went on, although it was believed to have been a University, rather than a religious place (there was only a few areas of the site using the 'special' mortarless Inca building style reserved for temples).
Finally, there it was.A few wispy clouds still encapsulated Winay Piccu, but we could see the site below us.All of the dwellings, the temple building, the terraces and even the really poor 'restoration' started (and thankfully ended) in the 1980's.I was so excited and desperate to take pictures in case the clouds came back and swallowed this hallowed postcard panorama again.They didn't, however.In fact the sun came out, hot and strong, and gradually nearly every cloud had cleared.Will completed his tour with us, showing us the temple of the Sun, the rock with healing powers, the sights down to Aguas Calientes below, the double doorways and Inca stonework.It was truly fascinating.In some ways, I regret that I was probably too tired to take all of this in.Also, as I had found to be the case with so many sites in Peru, there were no helpful signs/maps like we have in Europe that would have allowed us to explore freely.In other ways, it didn't matter.The place really did feel special, and incredible that a civilisation like this existed in what would have been a very remote location, unconnected by modern transport systems (although allegedly the Incas had a system of 'runners' that could quickly ferry messages to and from the coast).
The tour ended: Will said he would meet us back in Aguas Calientes for lunch.We had free time to explore.Several of us set off back up to the second viewpoint we had reached that morning.Harriet and Jim spotted a llama high above the terraces, and spent much time trying to capture this scene: I really hope they got the photo they wanted.I have been pleased with mine, but I don't think they capture how mystical and peaceful (despite the smelly trekkers) the place really is.
We all, somewhat reluctantly, decided to catch the bus down to the village.A quick word about the bus journey: it nearly crashed into 3 other buses coming up the hill.The irony of having 'survived the Inca Trail' and wearing bright yellow t-shirts that proudly proclaimed this, but dying in a bus accident en route back to the village was not lost on us.
Aguas Calientes was , for me, a super-toursitified (that isn't a word, but it should be) village that should have been cute and untouched.The pizzas most of us ate for dinner (somehow guinea pig didn't seem quite the right food to celebrate with) was three times the price of that in Cuzco, but we still wolfed it down.We said goodbye to 6 of our group: Brett and Helen, Teel and Arel had early flights and so were getting the early train and Chris and Lauren had a nice hotel to rest in before they visited the site again the day after. The rest of the group found a bar in the main square and I went off for a 'bath' in the Hot Springs (after which, of course, the town is named).There I saw one of the Canadian guys who had been at my briefing and many trekkers from the other groups: there really was a shared feeling of achievement between us all.
As the day wore on, we prepared for the long journey home (2 hours of train and 2 on a bus), and gathered supplies (yes a celebratory beer and a round of cards took up much of the train journey).We made it back to Cusco at 11.30pm, too tired to continue the celebrations and we made our way back to our hostels.
So there my (long) story ends.I have done it: achieved a life time ambition and seen Macchu Piccu.I made the trek, which was hard but a fantastic experience.Most of all, I hope I have some new friends from my trip.I want to end by saying a huge thank you to the other 13 people in my group, the 2 guides, 17 porters, and our 2 additional baggage porters: I will never forget any of them because they made my experience so special..
- comments
Pat Finch What a star you are!! Well done and am looking forward to hearing all about your big adventure. Now you need to set a new goal!! XXXX