The trip I booked in September was an eight day hike which combined the Salcantay trek with the Inca Trail. It is very important to book the Inca trail well in advance because there are limits on the number of people permitted.
In February I found out my trip had been cancelled due to insufficient numbers. I was on Safari in Kenya at the time and I had a very poor internet connection. It was difficult to organise an alternative trip. It took about three weeks to sort everything out and by that time there were no more Inca Trail permits available until June.
The Lares Trek is a suitable alternative. We rise early and leave Cuzco by bus to arrive at the starting point of our trek late morning.
It feels good to have the Earth beneath my feet again - stretch my leg muscles and traverse mountains and valleys using only the inherent strength of my own body. I can't fly and I am a lousy swimmer but my boots were made for walking.
We hike up a steep grassy hill overlooking a small village of stone houses with thatched roofs and fields of potatoes, broad beans and corn.
The horses carrying our packs quickly overtake us. Llamas grazing on the hillside gaze curiously as we pass. We come to a small lake and the path becomes steeper and rockier. Mist envelopes us as we climb up through a pass. We put on rain gear as the thick mist wets us. We catch glimpses of nearby hills and ponds.
We descend into a valley dominated by a cascading river. The mist clears. We cross the river which turns and tumbles down into a lower wider valley. The path descends into the valley.
At the bottom is a small village and many tent sites. A road beyond the village spoils the magic of remoteness somewhat.
The next morning there is less mist. A mountain topped by a glacier appears and disappears behind temperamental clouds.
We climb to the other side of the valley. We marvel at where we walked the previous day. A few eagles fly by. "Are they condors?" asks someone who hasn't seen a condor yet.
The mist returns. We rest.
"Harku, Harku." says Gladys, our guide. This means "let's go" in Quechua.
I compose a Haiku.
On high mountain paths
Empty lungs in thin air
Peru in our hearts.
Over the the hill into a new valley with a new village below. A new river and new mountain to gaze at. Local women at the side of the path bring out local goods for sale. We give presents of pencils or bread to the young children.
On the third day we descend into a small town. We stop at the local primary school to donate supplies of pencils and paper. We walk along a dirt road beside a creek lined with gum trees. It is a very Australian scene.
We go by bus to Ollantaytambo. A quaint old town of Incan origins overlooked by Incan ruins on the slopes above. From here we catch a train that follows the river downstream through a deep valley.
Gum trees disappear and are replaced by jungle vegetation. The powerful rapids of the river foam white. Hills above become mountains. Over some nearby craggy peaks, condors fly appearing as distant specks. Snow capped mountains in the background.
The train stops at Aguas Calientes. Even my very basic Spanish is enough to translate this. It literally means "hot waters" and is so named because of the hot springs I spend half an hour relaxing in that evening.
A nice way to end a trek. A hot bath, a clean baño and a comfortable bed.
Machu Picchu
I was disappointed about not being able to hike the Inca Trail so I was damned if I was going to catch a bus up to Machu Picchu.
At a quarter to five in the morning I set off in the dark to begin my hike. The temperature is mild but the air is humid so I am quickly warmed by my exertion. I follow the path by the river down stream and out of town. On the other side of a bridge a path of stone steps progresses steeply up the hill. I don't know it at the time, but this is the restored Incan Path which Hiram Bingham climbed when he 'rediscovered' the sacred city in 1911. At intervals it crosses the bus road which also winds its way up the mountain, a much longer, not so steep path with many switchbacks.
For half an hour I labour up the path seeing little more than the stone steps in front of me, panting and sweating and not regretting an instant. With the faintest light appearing in the sky, I switch off my headlamp and allow my eyes to adjust to the gloom. At twenty to six the sky is light enough to enjoy the view as the jungle trail opens out to look down upon a huge hill jutting out of the morning mist.
At five past six I reach the top and battle with the crowds at the entrance gate before rejoining my companions who have ascended by bus.
Machu Picchu is glorious. It was abandoned in the sixteenth century and consequently escaped discovery and destruction by the Spaniards. It remained hidden in the Jungle for centuries.
The jungle has now been cleared from the site. The city is mostly intact except for the thatch roofs which have long decayed. Also the site has been cleared of any artefacts that could be carried away.
Only the stones are left. Stone buildings, stone temples, stone paths and stone fountains - a series of basic stone outlets with running water fed by hidden springs.
Llamas roam freely over the lawns keeping the grass town. Rabbit like viscacha with bushy ears and tails can also be seen darting here and there.
The ruins slope up the land either side so from just about any spot we have a great view of the city spread out before us, the high surrounding hills, the rivers far below and distant hills and mountains. Clouds roll in and out, temporarily obscuring parts of the vista, exposing and highlighting others.
I climb the steep nearby peak of Huayna Picchu. This takes an hour. At the top are more Incan ruins. I look down on the city of Machu Picchu, the Inca Trail that leads to it, the road and trail leading up from Aguas Calientes and various hills and valleys of Peru.
Without a doubt, Machu Picchu is one of the highlights of my journey.
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