Muscles aching, in dire need of a hot shower and a good scrub, the Inca Trail, one of the most physically challenging hikes I have ever attempted, actually, the first hike I have ever attempted, is spectacular. Four days of hard core trekking at 5000 metres above sea level, in severe weather conditions, is tough.Armed with my day pack, coca leaves and camera, a group of 11 trekkers, including myself, set off with Percy our tour guide, who has completed the trail more than 400 times over the past two years. I suspect Percy may have been fond of the odd tipple and on the first day, which was relatively hot, he gulped down about a litre of a potent home made brew, called corn beer, at lunch time. It was impressive watching him weave his way up the trail.
Porters, who come from the surrounding farm areas, are hired to carry back packs, camping equipment, cooking paraphernalia and food for the four day trek. They ensure the camp sites are set up, the meals, which consisted of top quality three course fare (with the odd hair found here and there), are ready, that there is hot water for you to wash your face in the morning and that everything runs smoothly.
They operate like an ant colony; carrying loads much bigger than themselves and never stopping to rest. It is a bit embarrassing watching them run past you, while you huff and puff and curse under your breath, as you battle your way up the trail, in their skimpy sandals with a minimum of 25kgs loaded on their backs. To give you an idea of their fitness levels, the average porter is able to complete the entire four day trek in less than four hours and that’s with a heavy load on his back.
My group consisted of mostly Americans and Canadians, two Dutch girls and a British woman. They were pleasant enough and by the end of the trail we had all formed quite a strong bond, as one does after four days of sweat and toil, limited washing facilities, shared sleeping arrangements and delightful squat toilet experiences.
The Americans are a unique lot, for example, there was a guy from Kansas who booked the trail months in advance and then forgot to pack hiking gear and as a result had to rent boots, cargo pants and a sleeping bag – one can only imagine the foot fungi he picked up. There was also the Californian cheerleader, who flaked almost the first minute into the trek, but more about her later.
The trail itself isn’t particularly difficult, 40kms over four days, but the altitude plays havoc with your lungs. The higher you get, and I’m not referring to the coca leaves here, which I gave up on due to their vile taste, the more breathless you become. By the time you get to Dead Woman’s pass, the highest point of the trail, it feels like your lungs are about to explode.
While the incline was tough, the decline is definitely the most difficult part of the trail. The steps going down are exceptionally steep and slippery due to heavy and constant rain and it is jarring and painful on your knees. I had a few arse about face moments, but luckily no major injuries and no one to capture my falls.
At no point, however, did I feel that the trail was impossible and that I wouldn’t be able to complete it. In fact, I was surprised by my own level of fitness. From day one, the group split in two, the fit group and the hopelessly unfit group. I surprisingly was always in the fit group and we managed to finish at least an hour ahead of schedule for our tea and lunch breaks, even Percy was impressed.
Altitude sickness has a lot to do with how well you manage the trail and I was fortunate not to be affected by it. I may have had a small bout of it one evening when I woke up with a stomach cramp and feeling nauseous, but it subsided very quickly, after I took a few ginger tablets, and I was fine the next day.
Winter is the best time of year to do the trail. During the rainy season, which is now, cloud cover often limits the scenic views. Even though it is summer at the moment, temperatures often fall to below zero at night time and the days are chilly.
At the best of times, camping isn’t a favourite past time of mine and by day four, all desire to be at one with the great outdoors had ceased. Everything was soaked and the tents had taken on a distinct smelly sock smell.
Day four of the trail began with an early 4am start to get to Machu Picchu in time to catch God’s Window, a spectacular site, where the sun rises in amongst the Inca ruins. Unfortunately, heavy rain and thick fog blocked out any views and we missed out on what is supposed to be the ultimate experience of the trail.
Feeling disheartened we made our way down to the ancient city of Machu Pichu, a very sacred and special place, with the Californian cheerleader, who had perked up considerably by this time, singing cheerleading songs at full volume. How I wished for a spare sock.
The fog eventually cleared and the rain miraculously stopped, to reveal Machu Picchu in its full glory. Discovered in the early 1900’s, the ruins are an incredible site and a just reward for the four day trek.
Achey and tired, I made my way by bus to a small town at the bottom of Machu Picchu called Augas Calientes, where dear Paula, my Argentinian tour guide, had booked me a two hour massage and reiki session – it was bliss!
After spending the day roaming around Augas Calientes, a very quaint town, which relies entirely on tourism, we made our way back by train to Cusco, where I met up with Nikki. We will be in Cusco for Christmas and then make our way to Puno to sort out my visa for Bolivia, which is turning into a bit of a nightmare. I’m not sure yet if I will be able to get into Bolivia, which is a bit of concern as I am supposed to be flying out of La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, on 6 January.
Promise to keep you posted.
