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Published: October 25th 2011
Nothing and I mean nothing can prepare you for Macchu Pichuu. Your correspondent would just like to make that clear. The relation of our epic adventure requires three parts – beginning, middle and end, so without further ado let us start…
THE BEGINNING
This is the start as you have been advised. We (the group shall be explained shortly) gathered in the social room of Leonard’s Lodgings to meet or guide Ruli who explained our four day trek in such a manner that it sounded like a walk to feed ducks at the local pond. Your correspondent was very happy to hear this as he likes ducks and likes gentle strolls even more. Little did he suspect that there may have been a bit more to it than he liked.
Our group (I told you it would be explained) consisted of ourselves and 5 Australians. After securing our belongings we said hello to everyone.
The first couple to introduce themselves were Lincoln and Renee – a very pleasant young couple who looked like they could run the whole Inca Trail in half an hour – a bit too fast for your correspondent’s liking. Then we met Mark
and Ruth who were and are totally mad. I liked them from the start. Ruth swore a lot, so I had something in common. Finally there was Hayley. Hayley as you will find out later was the most important member of the group for me – a teaser for you all.
At the end of the meeting, your correspondent stood up ( I thought it was an AA Meeting) and confessed that I would be walking very, very slowly, but they all said they did not care how much I drank, I mean how long I took to walk !!!!
Anyway, after the chat from Ruli, we went to bed ready for an early start the next morning when a bus would collect us to take our group to the beginning of the Inca Trail.
The plan was simple. A four day trek to Macchu Pichuu. Possibly a bit uphill, but our guide said that a lot of it was flat. Dear readers, there is a big difference between European “flat” and Andean “flat”. We are still recovering from that difference. The good part about having a simple plan is that you keep it in your mind
no matter how difficult it gets later. If anybody ever tells you that, then smack them in the face.
The bus trip was easy. Your correspondent got on and sat down. Sadly, this was the only part of the next four days when I felt relaxed and at ease. As we neared Ollantaytamba, I felt a mixture of mounting excitement and a deepening foreboding.
To restrict the number of hikers on the trail, you need to pass through a control point showing your passport. Sensible I think, as this area has to be preserved. If they allow thousands of people like me tramping heavily all over the place, then the mountains would soon be levelled.
The first day was not too bad. I say not too bad, I mean the first few kilometres. They were very flat beside the river and showed no sign of incline. Your correspondent was in his element looking at plants and birds until after lunch. Then I had to look up and saw, not just an incline, but something equivalent to Everest. If only I had known what the next few days held, then I would have laughed at such a small
climb.
After only a few moments, I was dripping sweat, my legs were on fire and I was begging every passing llama for oxygen and a possible lift to the top. That was after an ascent of 200 metres. Thankfully we soon stopped for lunch. The rest of our group stood at the temporary campsite and looked around taking in the beautiful scenery. Your correspondent collapsed in an unceremonious heap and contemplated his possible error on agreeing to such a trip.
At this point, I have to mention our lunch, tents and porters. Every lunch and dinner was in a peaked tent and consisted of three perfectly prepared courses. Soups, salads, fruits and for me especially made vegetarian meals without cheese. An amazing feat. Each time our porters – who were local farmers – would pack up tents, pick up our bags and port (possibly why called porters) everything up and down the huge mountains that we crawled up. Not only did they carry everything dear readers, they RAN all the time. It took away whatever breath I had left just watching them. Now whenever I see the Ironman competitions on television, I will think of these porters
who were the strongest and fittest men I have or will ever see.
THE MIDDLE
The next morning was a great surprise. We did not ache. No pains in legs or parts of body – what amazingly fit people we have become. Breakfast had delicacies such as bread and fruit and we prepared for day two. The main problem with day two was a gentle stroll straight up a 13776ft mountain called Dead Woman’s Pass – this worried Wendy more than me purely on gender terms !!!
Can this day be described more accurately than pain, pain and more pain – nope. Dear readers it was hellish. We started with a simple plan. Walk a hundred paces then stop for a rest, then another hundred paces. There was no rush, so this seemed a good plan. It was not long before the plan changed to seventy paces and rest, then it changed to fifty paces and rest, then thirty paces and rest. It was becoming increasingly steeper and steeper.
The biggest worry was Wendy. She already had a cold and the altitude was beginning to affect her quite badly. I had reached the stage where I
was ready to ask the guide for use of the oxygen tank for her, but as you all know she has a stubborn streak in her and no mere mountain and not being able to breathe was going to stop her. Taking it a step at a time, we made it to the summit. I do not think I have eevr been so proud of anybody as I was of her at that moment.
Suffice to say, we enjoyed the view from the top of The Andes at that particular time. There were tears as we looked back at the times when we had both been seriously ill and here we now were conquering mountains.
A mere stroll down 2,000 uneven and steep Incan stairs hewn out of solid rock finished day two.
Day three was easy. When I say easy I mean walking for eleven hours in The Andes. Up and down huge valleys, while stopping in on Inca Remains. Your correspondent was disappointed not to find any bars serving cold beer and possibly a pizza. Damn those Incas. During this day, Renee slipped on some wet stones and crashed to the ground, hurting her ankle.
Honestly, how can people be so clumsy (remember this part of the story folks), but thankfully Hayley in our group was a nurse and was able to strap the ankle up so that Renee could continue.
The scenery was tremendous. We could see glaciers on one side and on the other the mountains that were the start of the Amazon region. Behind and as far as you could see in to the distance was the range of The Andes. “Bloody beautiful” commented an antipodean in our group. Your correspondent was forced to agree. On and on this day’s trekking went.
This time we ventured into a cloud forest. Our guide explained that it was called this because it was a forest and there were always clouds. He earned every penny he was paid. In all the time on the trek we only saw two tarantulas. One was dead after being killed by a fire beetle, while the other was killed by Renee standing on it. Apart from a condor and several vultures, wildlife was few and far between.
THE END
Day three ended with our last supper at camp. We were told that the last
day was easy. A gentle(ish) stroll to Macchu Pichuu with only a flight of stairs (locally called Gringokillers) posing a problem. After the hardships of the previous three days, this sounded perfect and indeed it was. In fact the only drawback was some idiot slipping on a wet stone while only an hour away from the Sun Gate and entrance and badly twisting his ankle.
What a complete and utter fool/idiot/moron etc… and who was this person? Was it one of the Australians? – nope, was it Wendy? – nope, was it your very own correspondent? – yep. Hayley proved her worth again by strapping my ankle up!
I had to hobble using two sticks as crutches the rest of the way. Pain is not a strong enough word. Much sore pain is closer. On arriving at Macchu Pichuu – about 3 hours after everyone else, it was all I could to sit and have a beer. While W and the group went for a two hour tour of the remains, I merely stumbled through the lower section swallowing tramadol and any other agony killers that I could get my hands on.
The site itself is breathtaking
as you will see from our photographs. We could have sat on a wall for a day or two just taking it all in. Surrounded by mountains and valleys, with the Urubamba river flowing close by, it is a place like no other and everybody who visits it feels so lucky to have been there.
A friend of ours - Gaye – always wanted to know why we walked for four days when you could take a train and bus to the top. Our guide told us that those who take the train are lazy, while those who trek are crazy. This time I am so glad to be crazy.
As a footnote. Although the whole experience is unforgettable, our friends on the trek – Renee and Lincoln – met us in a restaurant later and made an announcement. Lincoln had proposed to her at Macchu Pichuu and she accepted.
What a perfect end. Good luck to them both.
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jennie
non-member comment
your trek
i have to say that the last blog about your trek bought more than a few tears to my eyes. i was probably a big ignorant about how big of a deal this was but i am not anymore. well done to both of you and of everything the two of you have been through, this is truly fantastic. going for tissues now!