Our overnight bus to Cuzco was surprisingly luxurious, with our own VIP waiting lounge and airline style check in desk. We definitely weren't feeling very VIP with our mismatched travel clothes and muddy backpacks. After sleeping off our treks we arrived super early and, having earnt ourselves such a reputation in Buenos Aires, we decided to check into another Milhouse.
With our big Salkantay trek starting the next morning we had a chilled day in the hostel catching up with some pals from La Paz, then wandering round the main square and markets in Cuzco. San Pedro market had some appetizing produce on offer: roast guinea pigs, still with teeth in tact, and huge buckets of grey slop which locals were slurping out of tiny carrier bags. We avoided the temptation and headed instead to our orientation meeting with BioAndean Expeditions. We met our trekking group, who all seemed to be experienced hikers and that worried us a little. Then we met Carlos our guide, who told us our itinerary for the next 5 days and that worried us a lot more. We'd signed up for 5 days of 8 to 9 hours of hiking, climbing to altitudes of 5000m, and camping in minus 5 degrees - unprepared was an understatement! Carlos calmed our nerves with some flirty banter about how he'd piggy back us up if he had to. Classic Carlos.

After our terrifying briefing, we ran around frantically buying our equipment for the next 5 days that had obviously slipped our minds. We headed back to Milhouse armed with walking poles, purification tablets and embroidered water bottle slings - the essentials. Beccy resisted the urge to buy zip-off hiking trousers but did lead the fashion pack with a bright orange poncho, matching headband and colourful rucksack. We definitely had all the gear and no idea.

By this point we were used to the early starts, so our 3am pick up didn't stop us having good luck pisco sours the night before. After packing up our duffel bags, we spent the evening catching up with Alice in the bar, who had been volunteering in Cuzco. We stayed up sharing our antics and eating what we thought would be our last hot supper.

With a few hours sleep, we were up bright and early, dressed in thermals and headed for the mountains. After breakfast with a local family, we arrived at the starting point for the Salkantay trek, where Carlos told us we'd be walking mostly uphill for the next 5 hours. We already knew we'd be good friends as he'd made the drive a party bus, singing along to his dance tunes. Phoebe strapped up her canyon blisters with Disney princess plasters while we loaded the mules and were introduced to our chefs and horseman. We soon forgot their Peruvian names but it didn't matter as they all called themselves Charlie Brown. Nice racial stereotyping. Before setting off, we had a motivational pep talk from Carlos and chose our 'family name' - Llama Sutra. So witty of us.

We spent the morning walking uphill through the mountain highlands, soaking up the scenery and meeting the occasional Quechua local, descendants of the Incas. Carlos made it a real cultural experience, teaching us about the flora and fauna and his Quechuan people. He even taught us some of their local language - such culture vultures. After an arduous trek, we stopped for lunch expecting campfire basics. To our surprise, the Charlie Browns served up four courses of gourmet goodness - a starter or croquettes and cheesey vegetables, followed by soup and garlicky tomatoey trout and a pudding we didn't need. We left more than satisfied for our afternoon trek to our camp at the base of Salkantay mountain, which loomed in the distance but never seemed to get any closer.

Teatime came as another great surprise - a tent filled with popcorn, toast with pineapple jam and every hot drink imaginable - followed by another three course meal and stargazing, where Carlos pointed out that world-famous llama constellation. Our sub-zero sleeping bags, thermo-mats and North Face tents kept us snug in minus 5 degrees, we were definitely glamping in Perah, dahling. The main problem with sleeping half-way up a mountain was rolling down the tent in our sleep and waking up curled up in a pile against the front door. Another trek were camping in tents inside a gazebo, clearly not as hardcore as the llama sutras.

Woke up to a tent covered in a layer of ice but luckily Charlie Brown brought us hot coca tea in bed and specially prepared us an incredible breakfast. Carlos warned us we'd need to eat it all for energy for the climb ahead. As if that would be a problem. We loaded up on pancakes, bacon and eggs before setting off for the hardest day of the trek. The first section was an uphill trail up the side of the valley pass, crossing rivers and rock slides, before opening up to a clearing at the foot of the steepest part of the climb. We took this opportunity to take ridiculous photos using our poles and Carlos as props, with a breathtaking backdrop of Salkantay mountain behind us. The next few hours were spent hiking up steep rocky switchbacks, which seemed to never end. Carlos' motivational words kept us moving, even after we reached half-way and thought we'd made the summit, only to find we had another 2 hours of uphill. Despite this, we took the climb in our stride, overcame altitude sickness, with only a few 'danger burps', and made it to the top first. Carlos congratulated us for making the hardest part of the trek, still calling us his sexy senoritas (we disagreed). We sheltered behind rocks as Carlos explained the power of the mountains, the history of Incan sacrifices and how me must leave a pile of rocks out of respect for Pachamama if we want to make it down safely.

As our minds turned to lunch, we managed to skip down the mountain in half the suggested time and were rewarded with another three courses. Charlie Browns had skills. In the afternoon we experienced Peru's changing climate and trekked down to our camp in the cloud forest. Beccy put her poncho to good use as the rain came down but unfortunately our duffel bags didn't keep as dry and were soaked through. We kept ourselves entertained playing team games with a few language barrier problems. Our jungle camp was actually in the middle of a local's farm so we were privileged with being woken up by cockerels at the break of dawn.

The third day was a mere six hours of trekking deeper into the rainforest, climbing over rivers, under waterfalls and avoiding landslides, as Carlos tells us it's a good job we don't have vertigo. This time our incentive to reach camp was an afternoon at Santa Teresa's hot springs, where we soothed our achey muscles and checked out the trekker talent. As every trekking route stopped off here, we took the opportunity to drink beer in the sunshine, play cards and made a team decision to stay at the 'party camp'. Beccy was even asked on a date to 'Fanny Bar' in the local village by Braian the most beautiful Argentinean. You can take the girl out of Essex...

Dinner descended into a drunken pisco disco around a bonfire, where the locals blasted Latino dance tunes and classics like the Macarena, keeping the trekking crowd entertained. Phoebe and Alice danced on a rock podium with the other Salkantay team while Carlos taught Sarah how to salsa. The local family running the shack bar looked on as if it was a live performance of Brits Abroad. Surprisingly the French were the worst, using their head torches as flashing disco lights whilst performing a topless tribal dance. Lucky all we had the next morning was the longest zip-wire in South America and an afternoon trek.

As true adventure chicas, we overcame our nerves, strapped up into our harnesses and jumped (were pushed) off into the valley. We took advantage of the 3km of zipline and after a practice run, we were hanging upside down (and flipping up before landing) and strapping our harnesses on backwards to fly head first in superman. Such adrenaline junkies these days. We zipped down the final wire in pairs, screaming for our lives as one of each pair hung by their ankle. After a few crash landings, we started to appreciate the beautiful views across the jungle canopy and down to the river in the valley below.

After a final lunch with our chefs (they even steamed us a cake), we said our goodbyes and set off on our afternoon trek to Aguas Calientes, the base of Machu Picchu. In comparison to the last three days, this was a leisurely three hour stroll along a train track, which we could've ridden to the town if we wanted to take the soft option. We had incredible views of wild guinea pigs and Machu Picchu mountain looming above, which put into perspective how far we'd be climbing the following morning. For our final night of the trek, we were treated to a hostel and dinner in a restaurant, which I don't think we'd ever appreciated more.

We refuelled on grilled trout and slept for a few hours, before waking up at 3am to start the long climb of Inca steps to Machu Picchu. Carlos was having a lie in and taking the bus up so the trusty head torches came out again as we navigated our way in the dark to the base of the steps. His one piece of advice before leaving us had been to take a spare top because, however fit you are, you'll be drenched in sweat by the end of the climb. Nice. Even with Colca Canyon under our belts, I don't think anything could have prepared us for an hour of boulder sized steps at 4am. We powered on through and it was totally worth it. Machu Picchu was incredible and literally took our breath away, especially as we made it to the top as the clouds cleared for sunrise. The early start paid off as we could appreciate the ruins before the coach loads of fatties in bumbags arrived. Carlos wasn't wrong about the spare top though.

With a couple of hours to kill before our tour of the lost city, we embraced our final challenge - Huayna Picchu, the famous mountain looming over Machu Picchu in all the classic photos. We were unashamedly smug when other climbers said they couldn't believe people would trek for five days and still make it up. Ahh yeahhh. Our energy reserves were getting low without Charlie Brown's breakfast but we clambered across rocks and through a cave to find our spot at the summit. At this point we realised how great we are (modest too). We sat marvelling at the views of Machu Picchu, which seemed tiny in the distance before stuffing our faces with cereal bars. You can see why entrance is booked up months in advance. We then learnt the hard way that, while the climb up was all about endurance, the descent was all strategy, manoeuvring down the mountain face holding on to rope to stop us falling on top of each other like dominoes. Classic fat Americans couldn't figure it out so bumped their way down.

The rest of the morning was spent basking in the Machu Picchu sunshine, eating avocado sandwiches and exploring the ruins while Alice took selfies with llamas. As the rain came in, we headed back to Aguas Calientes for our last team supper - this time with celebratory pisco sours - before taking the train back to Cuzco. Not before planning to meet Carlos at Milhouse Bar for a night out in town.