Cusco and Choquequirao

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From the desert we headed up into the Andes, in fact about 3,400 metres up to the city of Cusco. We took the overnight bus which was a surreal experience as I fell asleep surrounded by sandy desert town aqnd woke up to the views of the misty mountains, the sheer cliff dropping off to one side of the road down to the tiny river below. It was breath taking, if not a little scary (I think I´ve mentioned before that I don´t like heights much).

Just before I left England, there was a large flood in the Cusco area which damaged the Inca trail and surrounding roads and villages. The roads are currently being repaired but this does mean that they are often closed off for a few hours at a a time as we experienced when we were stuck at the top of a mountain for two hours wondering what was going on. When we were finally let through, you could see that huge chunks of road had been swept away by the flood waters. I´ve been told that the rainy season is coming to end so I hope that it doesn´t rain to much for our trek.

In Cusco we found a tucked away hostel down one of the side streets, quite close to the centre. Due to Machu Picchu being closed for repair because of the flooding we were able to get the room fairly cheaply (about £2.50 per night). We stayed here to organise our trek to Choquequirao which is considered the ´sister´ ruins to Machu Picchu and unlike the most famous ruins it can not be reached by train or car. Instead it involves a two day hike, the 2nd day of which is 6 hours of hiking up steep paths that wind their way up the side of the mountain.

We spent a few days in Cusco as we decided to try and organise the trek ourselves rather than go through a company which meant hiring camping equipment, finding out how to get to the ruins and getting information on organise a mule to help carry our bags along the 35km trek. Well, organising a trip into the mountains with a very bad hangover is almost impossible so perhaps thats why we spent a bit longer here than planned. Important lesson learned - altitude and alcohol are not a good mix.

Eventually, with everything sorted and everyone rehydrated we headed to the little village of Cachoria where we could hire ourselves a mule and find the start of the trail into the mountains. The bus was supposed to take about 4 hours, however, with what seems like the inevitable stop for road works it was more like 6. The bus dropped us off at the junction to the little dirt track which would take us down to the villiage. Here we had to wave down a passing car that could take us to the villiage for a small fee. We weren´t sure how long we would have to wait but after only a few minutes a car stopped and Erik, John and myself were piled into the car with a Peruivan family of 5, it was a bit of a squeeze to say the least. The car bounced along the track and after about 20 minutes we arrived in the villiage.

With limited Spanish and a lot of pointing and gesturing, we obtained the name of a family were we could hire a mule and local guide. It was getting on in the afternoon and we were anxious to get started so that we could make the 1st camp before nightfall. The mule was loaded with our bags and our local guide ´Germina´ pointed us in the direction of the start of the trail.

The first day of the trek wasn´t to difficult and provided us with wonderful views of the mountains and valleys below. Unfortunatley as we had been delayed that morning and it had taken a while to sort out a mule and guide, it started to get dark before we had reached our camp. Lucikly most of us had brought head torches, so that at least we could see the path in front but its a bit of an unsettling experience walking down mountain paths with steep drops to one side only having a small patch of light to guide you. However, we made it to the campsite safely and pitched our tent. Although cooking was the last thing we wanted to do after our hetic first day, we got out the stoves and made our first dinner a pasta chicken soup.

The campsite was lit only by a small fire and with no other light around the view of that stars were amazing. It was the brightest I have ever seen them. I think that is one of the images I will keep in my head forever. Unfortunately camera´s don´t quite capture the view as vividly. After dinner and star gazing, we headed to bed. Tomorrow was another early start, I don´t think I have ever been up at 5:30am 2 days in a row!

The guide knocked on our tent just as the sun was coming up. Bleary eyed, we slowly got out of bed and got ready for our second day of trekking. The second day started with a downhill climb to the river a few kilometres below the camp. As we descended the sound of water crashing down the mountains become increasing louder and I was a bit dubious about crossing on a rather wobbly bridge above the torrent, however, I was less keen on swimming across so over we went. The next part of the journey was only 8 kilometres but up extremely arduous mountain paths. The first kilometre was tough but we struggled on. However, as the morning progressed, the sun burnt out the morning cloud cover and the climate became hotter. As we climbed higher in altitude the lack of oxygen became more apparent, each step was a real chore. Each bend in the path became an unofficial pit stop to catch our breathe and guzzle down water and slowly we began to reach the top. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally reached our morning breakfast stop and under the thatched roof of the refreshment stop we ate the many cereal bars we had brought for the journey. After half an hour resting, I had stop sweating profusely and my legs were only left with a dull ache. It was time to carry on with our trek.

Unfortunately, maths not being my strong point, I had miscalculated how many kilometres we had actually walked and our morning breakfast stop was in fact only half way up the side of the mountain which I soon found out when the paths did not become any less steep. It was also at this point that I agreed to start carrying the rucksac of supplies that we could not fit on the mule (which I had so far managed to leave up to the boys to carry), I made it a respectable 1 kilometre before collasping under what little shade I could find. Maybe it was the energy from breakfast or perhaps it was not having the extra weight of the rucksac but the last 3 kms seem to flyby and finally we made it to the top and our next campsite. That days trek took us 6 hours and we arrived at the camp site about lunch time. After food we had the opportunity to explore the area, however, we were so exhausted that we fell asleep in the afternoon sunshine.

The next day we were up early again, though after our exertions the day before we allowed ourselves an extra half hour in bed. We walked the last 4 kilometres to the Inca site of Choquequirao. The site is impressive even from a distance, as you round the headland you can see the ancient terraces cutout into the mountain side and these are just the ones that have been cleared, about 60% of the site still remains unexcavated. It was easy to image the whole mountainside looking like a massive stairway to the sky and if you looked carefully, you could see some of the terrace beneath the foliage.

The site itself was massive and streched down both sides of the ridge it was sat on top off. There were quite a few old ruins to investigate and many signs pointing to many different parts of the site. The llama terrace on the far side of the ridge apparently streched all the way back down to the river below. Unfortunately with only the morning to explore, we only had time to view the main buildings and the top part of the llama terrace before heading back to our camp. I was intrigued by the massive stone stair case that almost looked like a throne or some kind of anicent ritual site where sacrifices were made but then maybe I've been watching to many films.  

That afternoon we had to make our way back down the mountain paths and back to the camp we had stayed in the previous night. Theoretically this should have been a lot easier on the way down, however, John had hurt his knee we weren't sure how far we were actually gonna get. With some diy first aid and a few ibuporfen we managed to get back to the wobbly bridge crossing before night fall. This was much relief to me as I hadn't fancied another night of scrambling down steep mountain paths in the dark.

The hardest part of the whole trek for me was that last 2 kms to the campsite that afternoon! After the walk to and from the site, clambering up and down terraces, exploring the ruins on top of various peaks, then the race to get down the mountain before dark I was exhausted. What had seemed like a gentle stroll down to the river the day before was in actually fact 18 steep twists (we counted) up the mountain side with a gradual but killer final hill to the campsite. It was at this point that I declared that if the campsite wasn't round the next bend then I was just going to sleep where I fell, luckily the campsite appeared.

The next day we started early (by this point I was getting used to waking up at 5:30am) and headed back to the villiage of Cachoria. The first part of the mornings trek was all up hill and possibly worse mentally then our 2nd day of trekking as we all knew the hills that lay ahead, especially the dread zigzags. After a good nights sleep though, I was feeling a little more up for the challenge than the previous evening. The first part of the day we almost felt like we were climbing the hills as opposed to trekking them, especailly with the avalanches and rock falls that plagued the path but before long we were at the dreaded zigzags, a really steep part of the path that literally drew a zigzag in the side of the mountain. Although it was with much trepidation that we started the climb, we also knew that beyond this part of the path, the road flattened and we would not be faced with any more strenuous climbs. I think it was the thought of a flat path that enabled us to muster up the last bit of energy to arrive panting and puffing at the top. The last stretch of the trail was about 11 kms of fairly flat path that wound round the mountains to the villiage. On our first day it had seemed a quick walk but on our way home the path seemed to wind on forever.

Just as the midday sun blazed in the sky, we began seeing signs of the villiage, a few cows, a lone farmhouse and then we rounded the final bend and saw the village sat in the valley below. It was a very welcome sight and before long we were walking through the corn fields back to the villiage plaza where we started. I was glad to be back and desperate for a shower, however, we still had the 5 hour journey back to Cusco before we could fully relax.

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Photos

Yey we made it
We all look so happy about it