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Published: April 25th 2007
I've just completed another of my life-long ambitions - to walk the Camino del Inca, the ancient stone paved road up through the Andes mountains to the Lost City of the Incas and it feels so good to have finally achieved this dream!
... on Wednesday, we left Casa Azul at 6.30am, weighed down with assorted duffle bags, tents, sleeping bags, mattresses, backpacks and daypacks and walked down the many stairs to where our transort awaited us. On the way out of Cusco we stopped to pick up Andrea, the other member of our private trek, and then collect our two porters and Jesus our cook. Perhaps 'Chef' would be a better title for him, because of the great meals he managed to create for us on two tiny gas stoves, often under trying circumstances. We were headed out to the quaint old town of Ollanteytambo in the Sacred Valley and Kilometer 82 - the starting point of our trek. We found many other groups assembled in a muddy field behind the town, guides organising their groups of trekkers and issuing last minute instructions, porters arranging the very large loads they were to carry on their backs into bundles and coverering them with plastic as protection from the misty rain which had started to fall. The many local people selling everything from fruit for snacks, coca leaves to jumpstart failing energy levels, rain ponchos, wooden hiking sticks, colourful woven water bottle carriers, the water bottles to go in them, as well as anything else they thought unprepared tourists might want to buy! One was even selling rolls of toilet paper and if you've been to Peru, you know that you can't go anywhere without your own toilet roll!
Eventually our group started walking down the track to the official entry point of the Camino del Inca, and along the way the bright blue Peru Rail trains trundled past us, also heading up to Machu Picchu and filled with relaxed-looking tourists. We lined up to have our passports stamped at the control centre (you can't enter without producing a passport) and the porters had their papers stamped too. It was at this point that our plot started to unravel!
Andrea had only bought a copy of her passport, which was not acceptable to the guards. Vidal (our guide) said he had told her to bring it and Andrea told him that he hadn't. A moot point when the line of trekkers behind us were piling up and getting impatient to be on their way. The guard told Vidal to sort it out and waved us out of the line.
And so we began what was to be a 4 hour wait for Andrea and I, sitting on a cold stone bench beside the rushing Urabamba River, watching all the other groups and their porters and cooks file slowly through passport control, cross the hanging bridge and start on their long trek upwards to Machu Picchu.
Vidal made the first of many visits back to the nearest telephone to ring the main office in Cusco, trying to solve this problem, but without success - Peruvian government office workers stick to the rule book because they know from experience what will happen if they don't! At 2 o'clock, he decided to go back to Cusco (a journey of more than 1 1/2 hours each way) with Andrea's room key and collect her passport. Telling us that he would not be more than 2 1/2 to 3 hours and to wait for him where we were, he left in a hurry.
The last of the groups had gone through the checkpoint and the guards began closing down to go back into town for their lunch. The wind was blowing strongly and we were both so cold - so we discussed our options. I had the very strong feeling that if I wanted to do this walk ever, I should start walking right then. After all, our two porters and cook had already left at 9.30 am to get to the lunchtime camping spot, so I had only to find them and I would have company, food and a roof over my head. My passport was already stamped and I was officially allowed to procede. Andrea was not and so I asked the last guard left (in Spanish), was it safe to walk solo on the track, and also if there was only one track to follow - he answered 'yes' to both questions, which I was later told were definitely the wrong answers!. So it was decided that Andrea would go back to town to wait for Vidal's return and I would start my journey alone.
I felt many emotions as I crossed the swaying bridge - elation that I was finally on my way to Machu Picchu, insignificence as I looked up at the towering mountains ahead of me, trepadition because I was alone in an unfamiliar environment, and anxiety because I wasn't sure where exactly the lunch spot was and if I would even be able to find the porters and cook somewhere ahead on this narrow, rocky trail. And so I set off, with my trusty walking sticks to help me up and down the steps and over the rough patches, looking back over my shoulder whenever I heard rustlings to either side of the trail!
I'd been walking for about 1 1/2 hours, passing the occasional local person heading back to town, when it started to rain and I pulled my rain poncho over me and my backpack. There wasn't anything to shelter under, so I walked on until I came to a very small village and some ladies sitting under a thatched shelter. I asked them if they knew where the lunch spot was and they asked me "which one" ??? First stab of panic! Then they asked me where my guide was and why was I alone. Second stab of panic! I explained that my porters and cook were either still at the lunch spot or had moved on up to the first night-time camp spot to wait for us. A younger woman said that she'd seen a trekking group having lunch further up the track and offered to take me there. When we arrived I found the guide and he also asked me where my guide was. I asked if I could walk with them up to the night's camp grounds and as soon as the rain stopped we all set off. They were really slow and I wanted them to hurry so that I would get there before dark and be able to find our camp, but everyone wanted to dawdle, take photos and sit down every 15 minutes. The last hour of the hike was in the dark and very cold, and we finally arrived at the campsite, where I had another shock. I thought the camp ground would be one large site and all I had to do was wander round until I saw our party. Instead they were scattered in small pockets over a large area because there is not much flat ground in the Andes! It was freezing cold and my extra warm clothing was in the duffle bag that had gone ahead with the porters, however the night meal I had with the group warmed me up a little. The guides walked 15 minutes up to the check point guard, who radioed down and found that Vidal and Andrea had come through at 6pm. Then the guides walked around all the camp sites until they found ours. The cook Jesus came down with them to collect me and take me up to our campsite. He told me that an hour earlier, he'd sent the porters back down the track to find out why we all hadn't arrived in the afternoon. While I was putting on more warm clothes and drinking a HOT cup of coca tea, the porters and Vidal met on the track. Vidal was shocked to find that I hadn't turned up and immediately set off back down the track to find the last person who might have seen me, leaving Andrea to continue upwards with the porters. By backtracking, he eventually found the young woman who had showed me to the trekking group I had come up with. He arrived back at our camp quite late and very tired. By this time, Andrea and I had discussed what had happened and come to the conclusion that the whole reason for this incident had been caused by a lack of communication and briefing instructions - which is very common in Peru (things mostly aren't done here as they are in a Western country). She also told me that because it was so late when Vidal arrived back, he had intended for us all to stay overnight in town and start our trek the next day, but had to change his plans again when he found that I had already gone ahead. I will forever be glad that I decided to do this however, as I would never have been able to walk and climb 11 hours in one day - 4 hours from the first day's hike, plus 5 hours straight up Dead Woman's Pass and 2 hours down the other side to the second campsite!!!!
The three days spent hiking and sleeping on this trail were and still remain surreal for me -it so resembled a 'Lost World', continually changing as we climbed up, wove around misty and precipitous mountain sides, descended and then started climbing again.
The second day lived up to it's reputation for being the hardest of the three day trek. After a good breakfast, we left the porters and Jesus packing up camp. Crossing the roaring river on a small rickety wooden bridge, we set out to discover the day ahead. Vidal pointed upwards to the distant mountain pass which we would climb for 5 hours to reach. The uneven rock staircase was slippery from the night's rainfall and required most of my attention. Felt frustrated at needing to put my attention mostly onto where I was climbing and not on the breathtaking views all around me.
The top seemed no closer, despite having climbed for 2 1-2 hours so I decided to focus on the steps in front of me instead, which was just as well. Not long after this, a large rock slipped sideways and turned my weak ankle - the one I have been so careful with since I left home. We stopped so I could put on my ankle support and take an Ibuprofen and then carried onwards and ever upwards to the peak. For me, the last hour became a test of endurance, both physical and mental. With my mind telling me I couldn't do it and me continually replacing these thoughts with something more positive. Almost at the top, the winds were blowing fast-moving cloud/mist over us and it became very cold. And at last we climbed the final step!!!!!!!! and were on the summit. I was mentally patting myself on the back and shivering, as Vidal took our photos in the shifting mist and rain.
We took a last look at the awe-inspiring scenery, before Newton and Reality intruded and we could see that what had just come up, definitely had to go down again (for another two hours in fact). And knees that had started to whinge about the ascent, definitely started to complain on the way down. How thankful we were to arrive in the late afternoon at our night campsite, Hot coca tea warmed our cold, sore bodies, and the night meal was so welcome - all three courses of it. Hot soup, hot casserole and spaghetti, a chocolate mousse! and a warmed glass of red wine to cap it off. Unbelievable!
Day three - It had started raining during the night and was pouring steadily down as we left our campsite. The rocks on the track and stairs were difficult, with water flowing between and sometimes over them - some of which were undermined by the water and unstable. Even with ponchos, we quickly became wet through and had about 1/2" of water sloshing around in our boots. At least yesterday's continual climbing was broken with areas of flat, winding trail and even some downhill scrambling!
The highlight of the day was exploring a beautiful Incan ruin perched high on a peak and blending in so cleanly with the surroundings, that we didn't sight it until rounding a bend and looking upwards. It's sheer stone ramparts were set exactly on the edge of the drop-off, to maximise the flat area and if you suffered from vertigo, this was not a good place to stand!
The old stone walls were decorated with small flowering plants, lichen and ferns grew in every crevice and each window space framed a spectacular view. And the quiet was a living thing- rare and welcome in this ancient place.
With the rain still pouring down, we turned the last bend for the day to see our campsite set out on a small plateau - almost like a coming home even though there was nothing dry to sit down on or in. The tents, duffle bags with spare clothing, sleeping bags and floor mats were wet through, though they'd been under ponchos on the porters backs. Again we had a hot 3 course meal, eaten standing up inside the wet tent, but very welcome just the same. This campsite had no toilets and so sneaking off in the dark without falling over the tent pegs or the edges of the plateau, was quite dicey.(We'd been assigned the furthest campsite away from The Sun Gate, which meant that we would have a 3 hour hike first think in the morning to get there and catch our first glimpse of Machu Picchu. However I thought it was the most beautiful of our night camps.) Just on 6pm, the rain and mist disappeared suddenly. With the new visibility, we could see the surrounding snow-capped mountain peaks, two large white glaciers trailing down distant mountains, a pure white cloud 'floor' cloaking the valleys below and a rainbow to one side of the setting sun. We could also hear a loud rumbling somewhere on an opposite mountain and Vidal told us it was a rockslide, probably set off by the amount of water which had fallen recently.
It's hard to get to sleep when one's feet are so cold they hurt (because none of us had dry socks to change into), but Jesus collected some plastic drinking bottles and filled them with hot water to make impromptu 'feet warmers'. And I will be everlastingly grateful for the whim which made me buy a large silver thermal body heat blanket before I left home. It was so light in weight, but once wrapped around me inside my damp sleeping bag, it kept all the body heat in and I was able to sleep at last.
Day four (the last day of the trek) was less demanding, although the wet shoes and sox were a trial. After walking awhile in the sunshine, they started to dry out and instead of being wet, they were only smelly! We were walking through cloud rain forrest and it´s a magical place to be in. The steep sides of the trail were covered in miniature orchids, their flowers smaller than match heads, giant flambuoyantly coloured orchids, rampantly growing bamboos, tall flowering trees whose canopies were filled with huge bromeliads and others with gently waving grey strands of Spanish moss, or trunks and branches covered in green and grey lichens. And always the beautifully coloured hummingbirds flitting from one blossom to another in search of nectar.
Finally, at the top of a very steep set of 'stairs?' we reached the ultimate goal - The Sun Gate and the whole point of our journey. It is from this vantage point that nearly all the famous photos of Machu Picchu on its plateau between the mountain peaks, have been taken.
We settled down on the stone walls and had our photos taken just to prove we had really made it, before tackling the long and winding descent down onto Machu Picchu itself.
The rest of the day was spent wandering around, and recognising, so many of the places which have been immortalised in so many photos. And certainly not on our own!! However, even with the other tour and trek groups spread out over this historical plateau, it has a magic which rises above everything and after the first feeling of annoyance at "all the other people here", I was able to dismiss it and just be in the moment.
It is this feeling that I will always remember, whenever I look back on this whole experience of 'blood, sweat and grey hairs on the Machu Picchu Trail'.
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lyn
non-member comment
you ought to be congratulated
fantastic to read and your descriptions made it all come to life for me. congratulations 'old girl' on reaching one of your dreams. keep on rocking!!!