Right then! Not blogged for a little while so hoping I can remember everything that happened around Cuzco three to four weeks ago...

After finishing the week's worth of Spanish in Arequipa and living like a monk I was ready to let loose and have a bit of a party. So I ended up in the Loki Hostel, along with an army of predominantly British gap year early 20 somethings with names like Tally, Tilly, Jilly and Silly. I wanted to kill them all. Not such a good move to stay here me thinks! Naye bother, Simon and Lucy from back home were in town having just completed their Inka trail. So we went out and got royally trashed, danced on the bar and indulged probably more than what could be considered sensible.

Cuzco as a place is OK, somewhat over touristy due the proximity to Machu Pichu, South America's number one tourist destination. The organised traveller tends to book their trek to said Citadel months in advance, and as permits are limited the rest of us have to DIY and take other routes, which are often praised as just as worthy, cheaper and somewhat less populated with backpackers. So I decided to take a tour known as the Inka Jungle Trail, which promised a mixture of mountain biking and trekking over 4 days.

Our group was good, consisting of four Argentines, three Germans, two Israelis a Colombian and little old me. Plus the tour guide of course. The first day was downhill along roads into the sacred valley, very wet roads on death trap bikes to be precise. Somebody had told me of a friend who had taken the same tour and the front wheel of her bike came off for no apparent reason. Which I kept thinking about on the way down.

Day two had us trekking alongside a raging river with lush jungle flanking the valley. Coca, avocados, bananas and other fruits all grow here. The day finished in a complete dive of a hostel in small town, savaged by the bed bugs! we had dinner and a few drinks in an adjacent disco, nothing too special as obviously we were all pooped.

Day three was an easy trek as we followed railway tracks all the way to Aguas Calientes, which is the port of call for those reaching Machu Pichu. As the wet season was not fully over we had regular soakings but cracked on and reached Aguas Calientes by lunchtime. After lunch half the group decided to take a trek up the side of a mountain to a viewpoint, from where you can see the citadel of MAchu Pichu. This turned out to be great. We had to climb a series of verticle, poorly maintained wooden ladders, up to 200 meters high in places. With missing runners, in the rain and in sandals. Far more exhilirating than the mountain biking! Managed to catch our first glimps over to MP as well. Bed was early as we had to get up at 04.00 to catch Machu Pichu at daybreak...

So in the darkness the three of us set off on the two hour trek up to MP. I say the three of us as only the two Israelis and I were up for the walk, everybody else decided on the bu. We reached MP just as the dawn was breaking, though no sunrise as it was pissing it down. I blew out the guided tour to wander around on my own, taking it in, finding quiet spots to get spiritual and away from other tourists (of which there were many). It truly is a spectacular location, nestled between spectacular mountains. Only problem too many damn tourists, and as the rain kicked in again I scarpered back down the mountain, back into town and a healthy post trek meal of burger and chips!