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The Last Supper
Including JC and the other Disciples of Pain Having whetted your collective appetites with Part 1, I better serve up a veritable feast of excitement with Part 2 of our Inca Adventures.
So we left you at nightfall, Day 2. We woke up pretty chilly on Day 3 and were again served tea while still snug in our sleeping bags and breakfast soon after.
Day 3 was supposed to be a breeze after the hardship of the day before. For us, it was more like a force 9 gale. I suppose that the steepness of the second day had eaten into our limbs during the night but the first 2 hours of the day were of a similar grade, uphill to the second major pass of the trip. Nat and I struggled up the slopes, swearing and generally being grumpy with JC, the other JC, the Inca´s, topography and anything else we could think of. Our chums were also a little jaded from the day before but managed to maintain a good pace up the slopes and kept our camp stools warm for us at the lunch stop which provided a welcome rest. By now Natalie´s knees had decided that one day of torture was enough
Day Three en-route
JC, our guide, on the trek...holding us up again at the back. He said that he was doing it to look after us but we know the real reason...sheer laziness! and let her know so.
The scenery was great with regular Inca ruins en-route and great views of valleys a long way below us. We were still fairly grumpy with the Incas though.
The afternoon involved Inca Flat (which was enjoyable) and a long downhill run to the campsite (which was pretty painful). Clouds were all around us for the flat section and we even went through a couple of caves cut into the rock. The downhill was long and frustrating...with a final 30 minutes of slippery gravel paths before we finally made it to the campsite.
There our chums once again cheered us in and we nominated to take a well-earned hot shower. It was bliss and revived us. So too did the beer and the last supper of the trip cooked by our chef.
That night we officially met all of our porters and support team (15 people in total). It was a sort of ceremony by which we introduced ourselves to the porters (as if they didn´t already know which lardy, white-legged, moaning, wheezing specimins they were carrying stuff for) and for them to introduce themselves to us.
Most of our porters
Pret a Porter
Porters running downhill to the camp with about 30kilos on their backs. We are left in a cloud of dust. Although to be fair we were dragging 60-plus kilos ourselves (literally, ourselves). were over 40 years old, had 4 or 5 kids and did portering in their spare time. The are usually farmers and the main trekking season is a quiet time for farming, so an excellent chance to make some extra money. They each carry 25-30kilos on their backs, wear cheap sandals on their feet and travel about three times as fast as us. On the third day, post-lunch, they actually RUN to the campsite to make it before us. 6km, up and down hill.
The introductions went something like "My name is Jose, I am 57 (this was the age of one), I have 5 children." Two of the young porters were single so had a little dance with our single girls as the porters sang a traditional Peruvian song. We responded with a doctored-version of Amy Whinehouse´s "Rehab" which the gang had adapted to go something like:
They tried to make me climb the mountain
And I said No, No, No...etc.
Less traditional but very effective when shouted at you as you sweated up Dead Woman´s Pass.
We had an early night with the promise of being woken at 3:45am for the "sprint" to the Sun Gate.
Meet the Porters
And dance with them. I slept like a log...which probably meant that I snored...which is probably the reason why most of the rest of the gang looked so tired the next morning. That and the fact it was 4am when we saw them. We toyed with breakfast and queued up for the start of the race to Macchu Picchu.
In order to make it to the site before the first coachload arrives from Cusco you need to set off early. Natalie was chosen to lead the charge as we´d been the slowest walkers the day before and if we set the pace then the others wouldn´t get too far ahead. I think secretly a few of the group were pleased with this selection as they were starting to feel the pain of three days. Little did they know what was instore.
Natalie set off like she´d been queuing all night for the H&M Boxing Day Sale and flames flew from her boots as she burned along the route. I huffed and puffed at the back. On one of our brief stops I asked what had possessed her. She looked at me with glowing red eyes and said "I´m over this walking
Early Morning Start
Looking good at 4am on the last day. Natalie inisited on taking off the headtorch for the photo. thing, I just need to &%$ing get there." So get there we did in a record 50 minutes (JC had estimated 2 hours).
At the Sun Gate the clouds cleared intermitently to reveal Machu Picchu below us. What a fabulous site - it was beautiful and a worthwhile reward for all the sweat, pain and stinky socks.
To be fair to Machu Picchu I don´t think we did it justice. After half a cup of champers (brought by Pepe, the tour guide for the other guys) we were spent. We dragged ourselves around a really informative tour by JC...and Nat planted herself on a rock (probably an ancient sacraficial alter) and refused to move. An hour later we were on the way to Aguas Callientes (the closest town to MP) for a lunch and rest.
By this point my intestines decided to join my feet/legs/knees in registering its discontent at the whole expedition and I had to spend most of the last day in the loo. I managed to watch the Champions League final while Natty summoned the strength for a trip to the hot springs (swimming pools smelling like urine apparently) and even a short shopping
Reaching the Sun Gate
No-one told The Sun though. trip.
We took a train back to a town close to Cusco and caught our first, and hopefully last, experience of an on-train fashion parade. The two models changed jumpers (cos they were modeling jumpers) in the toilet and used the ailse as the catwalk. Class.
So we survived...and thoroughly enjoyed it. MP is a great place to visit and taking the Inca Trail to get there makes it even more special.
Natalie has vowed only ever to visit World Heritage/Wonders-of-the-World sites that have fully functioning escalators after this trek..but she may relent. I shall only be trekking with a team of 15 porters from now on.
Thanks to our new chums who made the trip so enjoyable and kept encouraging us on the way - Glenn, Kylie, Linda, Lianne, Sophia and Ruth. Thanks to Pepe for the cheap, nasty champagne that tasted so good at Machu Picchu. And a special thanks to JC, the best guide in the world, who kept us going and made the phrase "take it slowly, please" his own.
If any of you didn´t know, we actually did the Trail as a sponsored event for the National Rheumatoid Arthritis Society.
There or there abouts...
Machu Picchu is somewhere behind us...and another 45 mins downhill! So if any of you, having read this, feel that they deserve a donation for all our blood, sweat and tears then visit:
http://www.justgiving.com/natandjon
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Janelle & Hugh Hopkins
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Lord(s) of the Aching Limbs
Well done, can't imagine how much pain your limbs were going through after four (4) days on the trail. One day would be enough for me with two to get over it. We will be very bored when you get home, as it is quite exciting checking the blog to see if there is another entry. Printed them all off and Nan has read the lot. She sends her love. Mum and Dad and Nan xxxx