Inca Trek 1-4 July 2011

This trip had been booked since March and was the only set date in our itinerary, so we had been looking forward to it with a mixture of eagerness, anticipation, nervousness, excitement, trepidation and fear. I'd wanted to do this trek for years and although Katy was keen, I think her excitement was tempered by an unnecessary fear of failure and certainly not helped by her experience in the Colca Canyon 2 weeks previous.

The nerves had been building as we approached the date. This, along with an unwise Empanada choice the previous day and the freezing night temperatures all conspired to bring about the onset of stomach troubles and flu-like symptoms for Katy. Inevitably, this led to stress regarding the trek and our ability to complete it - so much so that by the time the bus came to pick us up at 6:30am, there had already been several trips to the toilet and emergency Imodium was high on the packing list.

Day 1 - Dry Season My Arse....
Our guide introduces himself as Percy (odd name for a Peruvian if you ask me..) The bus leaves our hostel and starts to head out towards Ollantaytambo - the starting point of the trek. As we doze uncomfortably in our seats I wake to notice that the heavens have opened - in a big way. The bus was surrounded by a blizzard of howling snow. We later find out that the guide has not seen weather like this in the dry season for about 6 years.....

At Ollantaytambo we stop for "breakfast" at a kind of wooden shack affair set in lush green surrounds, which would have been picture perfect had it not been for the leak in the roof dripping on my head. (Straw roofs: Look quaint, but waterproof they ain't.) "Breakfast" was promised to be scrambled eggs, cheese and ham - but instead consisted of a crusty stale roll served with obligatory jam and obligatory Coca leaf tea. (This is the breakfast that we have been served up everywhere since we arrived in Peru - it got very boring very quickly.)

Underneath said leaking shack was a similarly rustic looking shop, which was seemingly designed to lure in tourists with the express purpose of ripping them off (not unusual in Peru). We had been advised by Percy to purchase walking sticks/ponchos/water/snacks, so we dutifully selected our items and went to pay, only to be told that "breakfast" was not included and we needed to pay for that dubious privilege aswell. It was here that I had an opportunity to further "practise" my haggling (and Spanish) skills as I coughed and spluttered that "there's no bloody way I'm paying for that!" "Errr, no desayuno, solamente tē". Unfortunately, my ridiculous attempt was further scuppered by Katy and her honesty, as she indicated that this was not entirely true.
So having paid for just one breakfast (Yeah, that showed 'em) we walked back out into the rain with flimsy looking ponchos, walking sticks (that were essentially broom handles with some "authentic" "Incan" symbols scratched into them) and an overpriced Snickers bar.

After a chaotic faff of waiting in line, showing passports, getting stamps, posing for group photos - we finally start the trek. The rain is still falling and Katy is still struggling with her internal bodily functions so even though the path is not challenging at this stage, the pace is fairly slow.

The "Sacred Valley Of The Incas" is beautiful. We make our way along the undulating path, admiring the scenery and stopping every once in a while so that Percy can inform us of something or other of particular interest. All the while our porters, quite literally, race past us. They must think that we are ridiculous with our proper hiking boots, waterproof clothing, hats, gloves, tiny (in comparison) bags on our backs - huffing and puffing our way up the slightest upward inclination. These guys are a breed apart. Wearing only t-shirts, shorts and sandals and carrying loads of up to 25 kilos, they RUN up the path to the next campsite, and have everything set up by the time you arrive panting and wheezing like an asthmatic with a 100 a day cigarette habit. We later find out some interesting facts: the oldest porter they employ is 66. A porter recently completed the 4 day Inca trail in just 9 hours. I am humbled.

The rain continues unabated as we walk through villages that populate the first section of the trail until we reach a viewpoint overlooking the first major Incan site of Patallaqta. An interesting history of the site is pushed to one side as the rain dampens my mood and sickness pains continue to trouble Katy.

We reach our first campsite at Wayllabamba. It's still raining. The toilet situation is depressing. On the plus side, dinner is impressive - and remains to be so for the rest of the trek. Percy is an enthusiastic and entertaining guide. Our group of 16 is made up of an interesting mix of people - some of whom are nice, some of whom are mildly irritating, some of whom are older than me. Score!

Day 2 - Bad News
The day starts on a good note as Katy tells me that she is feeling marginally better today and then unbelievably, we get woken up by a "knock" on the tent and the assistant guide has brought us a cup of tea!

Sadly, that was the last of the good news.

After breakfast had been consumed, an obviously frustrated Percy informs us that the park rangers have declared that the next section of the route is closed. Due to continuing heavy rainfall and the resulting snowfall in the mountains the highest point on the trek (Dead Womans Pass - 4200m) is unpassable with snow drifts of up to a metre high. My immediate reaction is one of relief because Katy is still being sick, that means that she doesn't have to do the most difficult and challenging day. Although, as we trudge back along the path that we had walked yesterday, I had to admit to myself that I was actually quite gutted. This feeling deepened with the continual rain and even the stunning scenery could not lift my mood.

The path lead us directly back to Patallaqta (the site that we had witnessed from above yesterday) and we get a brief tour around. Local kids give us a High 5 - that cheers me up. We continue lower into the valley until we meet some train tracks. This is to be our alternative route. We walk along them until we reach another Inca site called Torontoy where we stop for lunch.

After lunch it soon becomes apparent that these are not disused tracks at all, but those of the Peru Rail Cusco - Aguas Calientes route, which is still very much in use which we discover when we have to make frequent jumps to avoid oncoming trains. And the bloody passengers are WAVING at us! All big smiles expecting a wave back! I try to ignore the signage which, even with my limited Spanish, I interpret as 'it being generally a bad idea for anyone to be on or anywhere near the train tracks.'

Perils aside, the route is stunning and I frequently stop to take photographs. Katy, however, has stopped taking notice. After lunch, her good mood has disappeared as she is back to feeling terrible and worries that she won't be able to complete the trek at all. I assure her that we will both be completing the trek together, whilst inwardly struggling with my own ankle and back pain.

The rain finally stopped for most of the 26km walk which made things alot more bearable. Tired and weary we reach the campsite at Cachabamba where we stop for the night.

Day 3 - Frustration
We have a "late" wake up call today of 7am. I awake groggy after a rather surreal late night toilet incident involving 2 dogs. Don't ask.

Katy has taken a turn for the worse and now my stomach has started misbehaving aswell. We get the feeling the guides are getting fed up with asking how we are....

Todays trek takes us 4km back on to the Sacred Inca Trail leading to the magnificent site of Winay Wayna. The views are spectacular and lots of photos get taken. Katy and I take regular stops and aim for a steady pace as we are both struggling. (The way some people go about these things, you'd think it was a race!) When we reach the site, Percy leads us in a traditional Incan ritual involving a stone that we had been asked to carry en route, coca leaves and a personal wish. It was all a bit hippy, but quite touching really and ended with him playing a traditional Andean pipe instrument and thanking us for indulging him in what was clearly an important ceremony for him .

After an amazing lunch which I can't remember now, the rain starts again and I discover that ALL of the photos I had taken from yesterday afternoon up to arriving at Winay Wayna have disappeared. I am devastated. Not only that, we had been promised hot showers and beer when we arrived at this campsite, only to find out that that facility was closed for refurbishment! REALLY hacked off now. All of a sudden I am overwhelmed with tired feelings of frustration and irritation at how UNFAIR this whole expedition has been so far. From the late pick up at the hostel, us not feeling well the whole time, the constant rain, the main route being closed, to losing the photos that I was so looking forward to reminiscing over - WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!?!

After a while I pull myself together, put my toys back in my pram and go to dinner. Which is amazing. How they prepare such restaurant style dishes on little more than a camping stove, I've no idea, but it was extraordinary. After dinner, there's a beautiful little ceremony where we present the porters with their tips, speeches of gratitude are given on our behalf and we all give each other handshakes and us tourists learn the Quechuan phrase "Tu penances Kama" (quite probably mis-spelt) - roughly translated, "see you in the next world".

Day 4 - It's been emotional
After such a joyful evening, it was a bit of a rude awakening to be practically herded out of our tents by the porters the following morning. A 4am wake up does not lead to a happy or hasty Dean. After a swift simple breakfast and waiting in line for the Machu Picchu reserve to open at 5:30am we pass through in one long line towards the sacred city. With my attention firmly fixed on the uneven ground below my feet and the lights from peoples head torches dotted in front of me, I fail to spot a low hanging branch that I crash into causing spots before my eyes. In the murky half light of morning with steep drops right next to me, this adds a new element of danger to an already perilous walk...

Although Katy is still feeling extremely unwell, she manages to keep up with the rest of the group and I feel proud when we reach the sun gate without too much trouble.

At the sun gate you are supposed to be able to see sunrise over Machu Picchu -instead we were met with a blank canvas of dense cloud. Although disappointed, the atmosphere of the crowd at the sun gate was that of a concert or party where everyone is waiting for their favourite act or guest to arrive. After a period of clouds dissipating and then re-forming we finally admit defeat and start to head towards the actual site itself. As we approach, the clouds clear enough to reveal amazing views over the valley and offer more opportunities for photos. And then we are finally rewarded with our first spectacular views of Machu Picchu. I'm so glad to be here.

After getting passports stamped at the smart modern entrance, we embark on our tour of the site. Percy tells us a long and interesting history of its discovery, creation, inhabitants and role in Incan society all in fascinating detail. And to make things even more special - the sun has come out! After 4 days of miserable and continual downpour, the clouds finally make way just at the moment it matters most.

A couple of hours are spent wandering around, investigating temples, stairways, corridors and terraces, taking photos and basking in the warm sun and the magnificence of the place. You can't help but marvel at the architecture, location and the level of preservation. We allowed ourselves to get wrapped up in the magical feel of Machu Picchu and my mood is finally elevated. The visit is kept brief though, as I am still worried about Katy and her ongoing sickness which is clearly hindering her enjoyment.

It had been arranged for us all to meet for lunch at Aguas Calientes, so we get the bus and re-join the group for an afternoon of pizza, beer, conversation and laughs, and of course, the classic English card game of s***head.

We head back to Cusco via train and bus. Awkward goodbyes are said with vague promises of keeping in touch. My back and neck are in agony and Katy is still sick, but the visit has been fulfilled and Machu Picchu was everything I hoped it would be. It has been another great experience and achievement on our travels.

Dean x