Keep putting one foot in front of the other


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South America » Peru » Cusco » Salkantay Trail
May 21st 2006
Published: May 24th 2006
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There is a perfectly good train service from Cusco to visit Machu Picchu. In fact, there are several train services, including an ultra luxury train. So why on earth I was ever persuaded that trekking instead for 4 days was a good idea remains somewhat of a mystery. But despite my reservations, I did it and have the photos and blisters to prove it (not to mention the food poisoning, but lets not dwell on that.)

The scene was set for the next few days when we set off at 4.30. It never fails to amaze me that tour companies here first fill the bus, then decide to pack all the food and camping equipment, THEN drive to the petrol station. Surely a little better foreplanning would make the operation more efficient. However, that's South America for you. Although admittedly, considering how much stuff they loaded onto the bus roof, it was probably a good thing we were all inside to stop it from toppling over.

On arrival at the starting point for the trek, we were split into two groups, with our crew of 13 (luckily none superstitious) consisting of a good international mix - 3 Irish, 2 Swiss, 2 Dutch, 2 Aussies, 2 Americans, a Swede, and of course, just one Scot (Quick 'Scot Spot' update: still not met any, but have overheard a few in Cusco, so there is hope yet). Our first indication that the various tour companies selling the trek weren´t entirely honest came when our guide informed us that the expected 4 hours trekking would be nearer 9. Day one was relatively easy, with an uphill morning and flat terrain after lunch giving us time to get to know each other, although those not yet acclimitised to the altitude had a harder time of it. Our first campsite was in a stunning setting, with views across valleys and overlooked by snowy peaks. As the temperatures dropped with nightfall, the decision to invest in -10C sleeping bags proved to be a very wise one, as other group members shivered all night in their hired bags. For once, the McAdams camping curse held off and we didn't wake up in a blizzard as half anticipated.


Day two saw us descend to the highest point of the trek at 4450m, where the long slog uphill was rewarded with more amazing views and the chance to watch avalanches from a safe distance. The group feeling of achievement at having conquered the so-called 'Seven B'stard Demons' was only slightly marred by the arrival of another group, complete with pan-pipe playing guide. Chiquitita on panpipes is not something to rush out and buy.

Every person on a trek has their own personal moments of hell. Mine came that afternoon, as we proceeded to trek downhill for a seemingly endless 7 hours. Unlike most normal people, I'm far happier walking uphill, as my knees just can't cope with prolonged downhill sections, and a small dose of vertigo further hinders progress due to the fear of falling, whilst Luke scampers ahead like a goatherd. Marching along cursing the others for talking me into the trek, I was not a happy bunny, but it's amazing how quickly that the pain was forgotten on arrival at the camp, complete with a stream to cool my steaming feet in and a shop shining like a beacon with the promise of cold beer.



The third day was an pleasant 7 hour walk though cloud forest areas, complete with avocado, banana and passion fruit trees. After lunch, we took a short bus ride down to the campsite on the edge of a school playing field, in order to give us time to visit the local hot springs. Of course, we all forgot in advance that a bus ride in this part of south america inevitably involves taking your life in your hands each time a vehicle is encountered coming the other way on the narrow steep roads. The trip to the springs was the chance for the assistant guide to prove his worth, a challenge he failed miserably, as the promised '30 minutes on a flat granite road' turned into 45 minuutes of climbing over sharp rocks on a riverbed. The return journey saw a scenic detour via the local rubbish tip, followed by taking the road all the way up to the village high above the campsite, in order to descend once more, quickly undoing the fresh feeling from the pool. However, the hot springs were a much needed luxury after several days without water, and being the size of a swimming pool, a chance to gently stretch those muscles in the 30+ C water.

Day 4 and another opportunity to risk our lives on a rusty, rickety manpowered cable car over the river. It was actually far more fun than it looked like it would be, although some were still scarred by the experience. From there, a short ride in the back of an open truck with the locals (obviously charged at the gringo rate for us) took us to the local hydroelectric plant. In the wood above it, an Incan obervatory allowed us our first tantilising view of Machu Picchu, high on a still distant mountain top.


To continue on the life risking theme of the morning, we walked along a railway track for most of the afternoon. This is about as unpleasant as it sounds, especially with blisters, as walking on the unevenly spaced planks proved surprisingly tiring and hypnotic, only broken by the need to scramble sharply up the bank as the local 13.40 train sped by. Further on as we approached Aguas Calientes, the landslide which has blocked part of the Inca Trail could clearly be seen. We thanked our lack of organisation which meant we'd not booked it in advance as planned, as the landslide has meant that trekkers can't access the ruins at sunrise via the sungate anyway, the apparent highlight of that route. In additon, on our route we saw few other walkers, whilst the Inca Trail apparently can be like the M25 at rush hour in places.


Arriving in Aguas Calientes and back to civilisation, we collectively decided to sneak off for a proper feed, before returning to the hostel for a second dinner of yet more quinoa soup, dry rice and nondescript meat. Four days of walking and early starts had taken it out of us all, so yet another early night was in order to ensure we got to the ruins first the next day...

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31st May 2006

High on a hill.......
I never realised you didn't like walking downhill, Laura - is that because you have wee legs and they can't quite reach?? Perhaps you could suggest that Luke carry you on the next occcasion since he's a bit of a mountain goat...........

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