Our final long travel day a seven hour bus journey from Puno to Cusco. For me between some blog catch up and film on the iPad it flew by, for my other less seasoned travellers it was one more bus too many and they were all very glad it was over. Before I came on this trip the idea of a journey on a bus for more than two hours seemed hellish, but now I don’t flinch at a ten hour plus ride. That said our National Express service is not a patch on the majority of the buses I’ve come accustomed to!

We descended from Puno’s great height of 3830 and arrived in the relative lowness of Cusco at 3300. Still high, but we could already feel the slight increase in temperature, and easing up of breathing. We had a few hours that afternoon to potter before four of us girls headed out with our guide Jessica for an infamous club night “Fallen Angels”. The idea of lots of people in a dance club with wings on is great, the reality is totally annoying! We abandoned our wings after half and hour and had a great time. The others left me and Jess to it, and we checked out another of her favourite haunts. Me giving her a piggy back as the cobbled stones, high heels plus a few whiskies left her slightly less than able. The second place was a bit more local and a lot of fun. At 4am I bowed out as I needed to be up at 6am to pack and prepare my gear for the four day Inca Trek, much to her protestation!

Morning came all to quickly and I hashed my bags together, leaving our main packs in Cusco, taking stuff for that day, day pack to carry on the trek and the provided duffle bags (that the porters would carry) which were not allowed to weigh more than 6kg. I was adamant about having my new blue poncho wrap and ugg style boots for changing into in the evening on the trek; for warmth not fashion I promise! We were due to leave at 8am, everyone was present in the lobby save our Jess. I woke her up and with another girl packed her stuff hurriedly, shoved some clothes on her and sunglasses on her head and presented her to the group as just a bit late as opposed to just woken up. She was now very much in our debt, and I ensured I didn’t have to share rooms with a few of the girls I gelled less with again….result!

That day was a tour of the Sacred Valley and the ruins of Ollantaytambo. We were crammed into a smaller minibus with an intellectual professor guide talking at us all day. Two hours sleep was not a great prep, and I have up confess I listened to about 2% of what he had to say all day. We stopped at a community project that G-adventures supports to see some local weaving and crafts and I bought some pure alpaca socks and gloves for the hike. We visited two main Inca sites, both really impressive and on an ordinary day I would have found them fascinating! The second one Ollantaytambo was the last one the Spanish found and destroyed before they were taken off the scent and led in a different direction from Machu Picchu protecting it from rediscovery until 1911. The stone craft work is incredible, and one can only wander how differently this world could have been if the surrounding events of the mid 1500s had not ended in the destruction and dissipation of the Inca empire. They were a remarkable people.

We bought our last few things for the trek; water, sweets, chocolate, waterproof poncho and had an unsuccessful dinner on mass at a restaurant totally unable to cope with our number.

Four of the girls would be doing the Lares trek, only three days and two nights but much higher and bitterly cold. These were the four girls I got on best with the group so I’d be with the group of six, a lady totally not my cup of tea and seven others yet to meet. We all got an early night in the clean but freezing hotel in Ollantaytambo, and had hugely disappointing freezing showers the following morning. Not what you want as your last shower before four days of filth.

Our group met the rest of party on a bus and we drove half an hour to checkpoint km 82 to meet our porters and hand over our duffle bags for weighing and packing. Phew! I knew mine was at least 1kg heavy but they just grabbed our bags and started bundling them into their huge back sacks…no weighing!

We were 15 passengers, 3 guides with 27!!! porters! I’d been told I’d be impressed by the amounts these guys carry, and it’s unreal. Our porters ranged from 18 to 67 in age. The other tourists were a British young couple, two older Australian couples and a Anglo German solo female lass.

Day 1- “Traning Day”. Started 9.30, lunch around 1, in camp by 4.30. 11km, altitude 2500 up to 3000 and camped at 3000. Two inca sites seen. No major casualties, a few much slower and a few much faster members emerged of the group, I was safely in the middle of the pack. Sun shone all day and most of us had stripped down to shorts. I was all ready glad of the poles I’d hired, my unattractive cheap bumbag for ease of camera and snack access, and touristy pervian water carrier. I was less glad for packing in a hungover rush and had forgotten my torch, spare camera batteries and baseball cap. I purchased a horrible cheap bright pink cap to finish of the fashion disaster that was my wardrobe for four days….so bad I made it looked good I told myself!

End of day one what I’d been told about the trip so far was all true. The porters were amazing, the food incredible, the scenery beautiful and the toilets quite literally a pile of s**t! I lucked out with a double tent to myself, all though arguably a bit colder for all the space, the first night I slept very badly on a slight slope and kept sliding down the tent. Many others slept really badly too, due to some offending neighbouring snorers in the camp.

Day 2-“The hardest day”; 5am wake up, depart 6.30am. 7 hours walking, 12km. Altitude 3000 up to 4200 “Dead women’s pass”; highest camp at 3600, 5 hours uphill, 2 hours down. No Inca sites. Lunch at campsite 2pm, early finish.

A pretty cold start to the day, not helped by the loss of one of my new gloves! Searched my tent ten times, asked all the porters…vanished..tbc. One of the Australian ladies was extremely nervous of the altitude we were passing through this day, and had been feeling extremely unwell and cold the night before. We walked in staggered groups with various checkpoints where we’d wait for everyone to meet up. At the second checkpoint I was able to buy some more gloves as swapping my single glove from one hand to another was not keeping me warm. The final two hour uphill stint was very slow work, and full concentration on regulating breathing was necessary. I peeled off from both ends of the group and walked solo listening to some Swedish house mafia to smash up the final hour. Knowing at that point I’d done the hardest bit was good! At the top of the pass our guide Pedro gave thanks to Pachamama and we shared a tot of rum before we started a gruelling two hour downhill step section. Another one of the girls has bad knees and had to go really slow on this section, and fair play to her for doing the trek at all. Again the weather was on our side, and whilst not in shorts by midmorning the temperature was lovely. Camping that night at 3600 was our highest and coldest, but it was lovely and warm in the afternoon and after lunch time had a quick sleep in my sunny tent. That night despite the cold I slept far better, partly helped I’m sure by a great hot toddy we all had made with the rest of the rum Pedro had bought. Oh and opening my silk sleeping bag lining found the missing glove; I’m sure there’s a saying about its better to have two pairs of gloves than just one single one…right?

Day 3-“Longest but prettiest day”
16km, 11 hours inc lunch, lots of Inca sites.Max 3900.Camp at 2600.

A bad start to the day with one of the girls seriously debilitated by altitude, and walking at a snails pace. She looked a shell of herself. The day was gorgeous, and there were plenty of Inca sites to see. The cold morning soon warmed up and the landscapes were breathtaking and after a two hour climb to a pass we had a two hour desent which again plagued the one girl’s knee. The last pree lunch stretch we were really spread out with the three guides aiding the troubled walkers. That bit of the walk again I positioned myself alone in the middle, it was the most beautiful section of the whole trek, and on taking in one view with white mountain ranges in the distance with no one else around me I allowed myself a few minutes to just be, see and appreciate. I’m not sure, but a little drop of moisture may have escaped a corner of an eye. The lunch spot was at the final pass with spectacular views, including the flag on top of Machu Pichu mountain. The cooking team had really outdone themselves with a buffet and an iced cake. How they produced the standard of food from a couple of gas cookers I don’t know, but everything was top notch!

The final stint of the day was two and half hours down Inca stairs; otherwise known as the Gringo Killer. After and hour and half I could see why, and the age old “How much longer?”….set in. I was walking in my Salomon running shoes which I’d managed the Colombian jungle trek in, and had done me proud so far, but on the final stretch I could feel blisters starting to niggle under my big toes. In fairness, most other people were feeling the same.

The young British couple in the group were the only vegetarians in the group, and the chap had gone drastically down hill half hour after lunch. Coupled with the girl with altitude problems, the girl with bad knees we rolled into camp at 5:30pm. Just in time for the British chap to throw up dramatically and for the rest of us to visit another nearby Inca site now in the half dusk light. By now the British girl was also going down hill fast too…figuratively not literally.

Day 4
4am start, leave 4:45. 2 hours walking in morning. Fingers crossed for no mist at the sun gate!

Awoke to the news that luckily my earplugs had blocked out, both the lad and lass had been violently ill from both ends all night. I felt hugely sorry for them, the toilets in those camps are not the type of refuge you need when feeling like that! Our altitude sick girl was marginally better. Another lad had an unconnected dicky stomach and not slept. The general diagnosis on the veggie couple was salmonella off a dodgy egg. I should mention at this point that all 15 of us on the trek were doctors, travelling with a full medicine cabinet and divulging all our analysis and antidotes free of charge to each other. Nothing better than when you are feeling like death having a bunch of know-it-alls telling you what to do and take! Or what you did wrong in the first place.

We had to be out of camp by 4:45am so the porters could pack the whole camp and rush down to the town to catch a 5:30am train. The couple were late packing and leaving as she was so ill, and actually two porters stayed with us just to carry their day packs, and one of the guides carried the girl a little way of the final few hours.

We had to wait inline in camp for the checkpoint to open at 5:30 at which point we had a final ninety minute hike including some very steep stairs. Luckily my hinting blisters from the previous day had dissipated during the night. We reached the sungate, one of the last groups and waited for the couple to catch us up. The weather gods had held out and we had a perfect view down into Machu Picchu, no mist in site! Our guide had said the previous tour he’d run had rain every day and no view.

The couple arrived twenty minutes after us, and my god she looked truly ill! Whilst we’d been waiting for them the sun moved over the ruins below aiding better photos. By the time we embarked on the final forty minute walk down we could see the mass of other tourists from the day buses had arrived. We left the ruins to use real clean sit down porcelain toilets! & to drop off our day packs. We met up with our guide Jess who was with Holly one of my girls off the Lares trek. She’d been suffering with mild altitude problems before the trek, during the trek she was extremely ill and was carried on a donkey for one day, and had been fairly delirious at times. She’d seen the doctor that morning for a blood test to find out that she had a parasite, and probably has had it for the last few years since a trips to India and Africa. In someways lucky that exposed to the altitude it revealed itself.

We headed back into the ruins with our trail guide Pedro for a tour and info. The couple dropped off after ten minutes and actually headed straight to a clinic back in Cusco. The two porters who’d carried their day packs and stayed with them actually had their first ever visit of Machu Picchu ruins itself, I’m sure to the envy of the other 25 porters!

The ruins of course are really impressive & interesting, but the long previous day and the heat of the nearly midday sun (as we were running so much later with our various ill bodies) meant we were not the best audience and after a further hour wandering on our own we’d all left the buildings and caught the buses down the hill to the resort town of Aguas Calientes.

I’m not saying it was an anticlimax, but actually the trek itself, the scenery, the journey, the other ruins, the group, our three guides (Pedro, Israel & Miguel), porters and somehow still finishing as a group despite illness was more special and memorable than Machu Pichhu on that final day.

We regrouped in dribs and drabs at a designated restaurant in town. Ridiculously pricey and touristy, but they really have got you good and proper there. The chap with a dodgy tummy hit the sack in an available room. And the rest of us enjoyed a meal and myself a few glasses of Sauvignon blanc. I was also reunited with my girls from the other trek, who recounted just how cold it really had been! (Ice on the tents in the morning, double sleeping bags necessary!). Been separated from the girls had meant I did get to know some of the others from the group of six who were all lovely infact and great fun.

We caught the mid avo train back to Ollantaytambo, a stunning journey alongside a roaring river just waiting to be kayaked. I’m afraid after a few drinks, and a few more onboard the train we may have been extremely loud and obnoxious British louts playing cards, and there’s a good chance I may have been the worst. From there we transferred to a minibus for a two hour drive back to Cusco before the most anticipated hot showers of the year, and they were hot yippee!! That is officially the longest I’ve not washed my hair or showered ever, but face and baby wipes did keep the serious stench at bay! Laundry collected, travelling glad rags straight on and out to the Irish bar for dinner (where i also met up with my previous amazing G guide from my January trip Nancy!) and way too many drinks. And the 24 hour challenge of staying up till 4am was on. Back to the local/gringo club for way too much dancing on the stage and 4am was insight! 3:30 I risked leaving, which included rough handling two of the six foot lads in my group out of the club into macdonalds and leaving them there to blindly fend their way back up the hotel. With only myself and another girl left, we super lazily got a taxi 250 metres up the street; it was really cold. Teeth brushed, face clean 3:55am….but I made sure I didn’t sleep till 4am! It probably says something (not brilliant) about me that I’m as chuffed with completing the “24 hour” challenge as I am about conquering the Inca trail, but in fairness nearly 500 tourists a day walk the inca trail successfully…the other challenge has a way higher fail rate, I’m just someone who sets my sights and goals high!

I actually enjoyed the whole Inca trail way more than I thought I would, I tend to really psyche myself out about these things, and actually rarely look forward to them, but that’s the third multi day trek I’ve done now and whilst I’m certainly never the fastest I’ve handled them all just fine. They’ve all been completely different from the W trek in Torres del Paine, Chile, Patagonia, The lost city trek in Colombia’s jungle and this one. From an altitude perspective this was the hardest, w trek the longest, and the jungle the most sweaty! I’m still hesitant to say wether I’m a trekker yet, but I’ve not hated any hiking yet and if my back problems persist I know at least walking is really good for me, especially aided with my trusty poles!

The company I went with G adventures ran a great operation, and whilst its both remarkable and scary just how much the porters carry, and how quickly they move, our group of porters didn’t look quite so overloaded as some other outfits. From having bowls of water to wash your hands and face in the evening and morning, and cups of coca leaf tea bought to you in your tent, the truly excellent food we ate, we were treated incredibly well….borderline uncomfortably so. But I was lucky enough to get ill at all, and I’m sure if you are feeling grim from altitude or anything else, all those extra touches soften the blows a bit.

So I guess like everyone else whose done the inca trek, my only complaint would be the toilets. And actually if people could aim a bit better, or at least move their mistakes when they miss on the squat toilets so they’d actually get flushed down versus just leaving them on the side as a gift for the next punter it probably wouldn’t be so bad anyway!