Cusco and the Inca Trail, Peru

26th Sept- 5th Oct 2011.

Margaret is 67, a teacher from Brisbane, Australia. She is the oldest member of our group about to start the four day, high altitude, Inca trek over 43km of steep Andean mountains to Macchu Picchu. She has hardly any hiking experience and her kit consists of jeans, plimsoles and a vaguely waterproof jacket. Can she really make it to the ancient Incan town?Well, first let me tell you about our journey to Cusco and fill you in on the details of our trek, and then you'll find out (and that's how you draw them in)!

San Jose to Lima airport and we manage to wangle the emergency exit seats again so a good flight. Arriving in Lima we wanted to get to Cusco that evening if possible to acclimatise to the higher altitude. Our only option is the last two seats on a bus traveling directly to Cusco which leaves from a station across town in 45 minutes. To say the taxi driver sped and bullied other drivers to get us there on time would be an understatement. Driving along the congested, polluted roads of Lima, people hang out of 20 year old minibuses which now make up the public transport network here; there's a constant sound of car horns and at every opportunity a local lad tries to sell some tat or other to wide eyed passengers, adjusting to their new surroundings.We arrive at the bus station with just 6 minutes in which to use our broken Spanish to buy tickets, check our bags and get some food for the 21 hour journey. Soon we are ordered aboard the bus and we take our seats at the back- our punishment for being late.

The journey is pretty interesting. The films dubbed in Spanish provide a soundtrack to our view of the sunset over Lima and the small rundown suburbs. Shanty towns whizz past the windows and we stop at the equivalent of a whimpy restaurant. Inside children play in the ball pit and eat french fries, outside a guard armed with a machine gun stands staunch at the entrance. Darkness falls and the bus swerves around mountainous single track roads. I'm glad it's dark, this journey is not for the faint hearted. I slept well. Rob is too tall for the semi-reclining seats and instead is irritated by the smell of the chemical loo all night.

The scenery in the morning is spectacular as the bus follows the path of the white water river and Peru starts to show us it's agricultural background. Old ladies dressed brightly in patterned shawls and tall hats line the roads through the small towns, bartering with their ripe produce. Men work the fields with hand ploughs and some steer bulls to do their work. Pigs, sheep, cows, chickens, llamas and dogs wonder on the lush land enjoying their day.A mixed impression of Peru so far.

We unload and our chests tighten with only a few steps. Cusco is at 3650m and a higher altitude than our bodies are used to. We check into our hostel and explore the town on foot.It has a distinct Spanish-Italian feel to the architecture with shops, bars and restaurants focused around pretty squares and cobble lined narrow streets. Haggling for alpaca produce and partaking in a post Inca trail massage are on the agenda for most tourists, who are easily spotted in hiking boots and convertible trousers.We decided to lunch at a Peruvian restaurant- the place was filled with men and children who looked at us strangely for choosing to eat there rather than 'Jacks' next door. We ordered from the 'menu economical' and received a two course meal of delicious soup, chilli chicken and rice, and homemade lemonade for 5 soles (£1.20)-ace!

Day 28 of our trip and time to meet the people whom we will be sharing our Incan adventure. We booked the Inca trail in July with Gap Adventures- a reputable company which seem to have higher standards of care for their workers. Our group was mixed. Two girls Hanna and Karoline on a gap year from studies in Norway. Newlyweds Stu and Julie from Ireland. Margaret who I've told you a bit about already. Luba and Fransisco LA movie and music bods. Lovebirds Andy and Vicky from Australia. John travelling alone from Hong Kong. And French-Canadians Bob, JP, Richard and Geneveve.Day one of the trek sees us being tested by guide River as we visit Incan sites and stay in the quaint town of Ollantaytambo. River fills us in on the of the history of his ancestors and has us asking questions about how they could possibly achieve some of the outstanding buildings carved from the mountains. The Incan communities were almost completely wiped out by Spanish invasion, civil wars and disease leaving all but one of the ancient towns without their original names. He gives us a taste of what's in store for us on the Inca trail to infamous Macchu Picchu, which winds through the Andes and boarders the amazon jungle leading to a site so well hidden it was not discovered by invaders.

Day 1 proper and after our last night in a bed we set off for real. Excitement is reigned in by River insisting we take it slow- "walk like an old man, feel like a young man. Walk like a young man, feel like an old man"-whatever! It's a pretty easy day, 12km to our camp, only a small amount of uphill and a million photo opportunities. We get chatting to Hanna and Karoline and soon strike up a bit of a England vs Norway challenge.

I have to tell you right away about the porters. 22 porters are needed for our group of 16 hikers. They carry all manner of things from our food, tents and duffle bags to cutlery, tables and chairs for us to sit and eat. And they don't just carry them. They run with them up the mountains in rubber sandals made from car tyres, huge packs loaded on their backs and have the camp completely set up ready to clap us in at lunch and dinner. Truly amazing.

The first night in the tent is fairly comfortable but the wildlife outside keeps us awake. At first just a couple of chickens pecking around, then a dog barking and then the delightful sound of poor Richard puking his guts up outside the tent next to us. Ahh the sounds of nature! This went on pretty much the whole night and weakened from his bug Richard and his fellow French-Canadians decided not to continue on the trek with us the following morning. Such a shame.

Day 2 of the hike was by far the hardest. We started from an elevation of 3000m and ascended up to Dead Woman's Pass at elevation 4200m walking over 6km up steep winding rocky paths and uneven incan steps. Cocoa leaves numb our tongues as we copy the porters for a hit of energy. And it works- we reach the pass ahead of the rest of our group- not that it's a race but it's always nice to be first, right?! The view at the top is fantastic. The snow capped Mt. Veronica glistens at what now feels like touching disctance, and the dead woman's huge rocky nipple looms over us as we rest on her neck. A girl faints, we witness a proposal which later turns out to be fake (very weird) and we cheer loudly as the rest of our group battle up the final steps.

But where is Margaret? Part of me thinks she must have turned back. Part of me hopes she has. The hike is tough enough for a young, fit person with the right gear. Then add the altitude and it's a whole other kettle of fish.But there she is! Appearing just 10 minutes behind the main group Margaret's purple hat bobs as she wenches her body up the mountain. She arrives at the top to a huge round of applause and other groups of hikers want her photo as her story spreads along the trail.Photos captured it's time to descend the opposite side of the mountain to our camp. It's cold here and so along with Norway we pretty much run the 2km downhill.The porters have done an excellent job again, our tents are up, the kettle is boiling for hand and feet washing and once cleaned up we sit in the dinning tent playing cards and eating popcorn. Apart from the moths buzzing around the gas light, the bugs trying to eat us alive and the squat loos you could definitely say this is more like 'glamping' than camping.

Day 3 of the trek and 16km in store today. Mainly undulating and bordering the amazon jungle now it's quite a different day. The sun is not out for a start and the clouds are low obscuring the spectacular views we have grown accustomed to over the past few days. We see an Andean deer nibbling on the valley grass and birds with huge wings fly overhead. Norway and ourselves reach lunch camp just minutes before the heavens open and everyone else gets wet (see sometimes it does pay to be speedy!)Julie and Stu are not far behind and are surprised by the cooks with a 'Happy Honeymoon' cake which we all enjoy for desert! Can you imagine baking and icing a cake half way up a mountain? Surreal! The sky clears as we eat, another stroke of luck and the rain holds off. We catch glimpses of Macchu Picchu mountain on the afternoon walk and we can sense we're not far. But that's on the agenda for tomorrow. "Guys guys- Todays today, tomorrows tomorrow" as River would say.Out final camp site sees our tent pitched on the edge of a 20m drop. No sleep walking luckily and proper toilets!

Day 4 and we have a 3.50am wake up call-ouch. The porters have an early train which they must catch, and we are to aim to get to Macchu Picchu before the majority of the tourists arrive on the train. We hike to the sun gate at dawn, our final obstacle is a set of monkey steps on which we scramble up. The view that waits for us is worth the four day hike to say the least. We arrive just as a beautiful rainbow appears over the ancient Incan town and the sun peaks through the morning cloud illuminating the valley below. The town surounded by mountains at each point looks pristine and the river gushes in the valley below. This was the final check point for Incan messengers and as we skip down the final kilometer we pass Incan temples and offering alters.

So here we are. Our pilgrimage is over. We spend time exploring iconic Macchu Picchu, learning its history, taking the postcard pictures and meeting the resident llamas (there was a baby called Lucy). Each of us had come with different reasons for wanting to complete the trek. Some for the history, some to feel the gods in the mountains, and some for the challenge. And we have all fulfilled our dreams. We arrive dirty and tired from our 4 day adventure, our legs now burning with every step. We pass sweet smelling tourists fresh off the train, believing their 10 minute walk to the entrance of town, a challenge enough. But they will never realise the real power the Incan town has. They have not been pulled towards it, truly wishing it was around the next corner. They will think it a piece of cake, as do we. The difference being their cake is a stale little cupcake, and ours is a three tier chocolate fudge!

And a final word on Margaret. Did she make it? Of course she did- ahead of all of us in the end!

Next stop Santiago, Chile.