The following post was written over the course of a week in a small diary as wi-fi was not widely available during my trek and I chose not to lug my iPad or iPhone with me. Please forgive the way it jumps from tense to tense, but I wrote it whenever I had the opportunity.
Surely no-one can think of Peru and not picture Machu Picchu rising from the mountain jungle? The 'Cloud City', undiscovered by the Spanish Conquistadors, forgotten by all bar a few indigenous locals and dramatically rediscovered by Hiram Bingham during his 1911 expedition into the heart of Peru. I have wanted to see this wonder for myself for many years.
However, visiting Machu Picchu is not so easy. Due to the sheer volume of like-minded people eager to tackle the Inca Trail for themselves, the Peruvian Government has introduced a limit of just 500 people a day, of which 300 of the available permits go to guides and porters. No animals are allowed upon the trail, so all resources and equipment must be carried by the porters or the trekkers themselves and no porter is permitted to carry over 20kgs.
I had planned to visit Machu Picchu in early May, but due to the small number of available permits and my initial delay in booking my place, by the time I applied, nothing was available until mid-August.
As a result, I am not trekking alone - a former teaching colleague of mine is here with me. Jayne has wanted to visit Machu Picchu since she was a seven year old girl attending Brindley Ford First School in Stoke. Her teacher at the time, Mrs Walpole, made the expedition in 1977 and returned to the classroom with pictures, stories and colourful Peruvian dolls which enchanted Jayne and left her eager to visit Machu Picchu herself one day.
In August 2014 Jayne and I met up in Chester for a cup of tea and a farewell natter just a few weeks before I set off on my journey around the world, and a throw away line "why not come with me when I reach Machu Picchu?" bore fruit, but only when the date changed from May to August.
It was February and I was in New Zealand, still reeling from the news I could not go to Machu Picchu until August when I decided to send a quick WhatsApp message to Jayne "I am doing M-P in August. Do you want to come with me? I am booking my permit tonight." Jayne responded almost immediately, "Yes please," and here we are.
Cusco is the recognised start point for all Incan expeditions, be they to M-P or to any number of alternative Peruvian trekking destinations. Visitors who are less fit or incapable of completing the treks at altitude flock to M-P by train, with over 2000 tourists making the trip each day during the high season. Cusco itself is a stunning city of 500,000 people, nestled in the hills and mountains of central Peru, a little over 3,400m above sea level (about 11,000 feet.) It was the geographical heart of the Incan Empire which spread as far south as Chile, covered north west Argentina, most of Bolivia and Ecuador and entered Colombia to the north.
At it's height, the Incan Empire stretched for over 2,500 miles
I travelled up through South America, following many of the ancient Incan routes, whilst Jayne flew in from Manchester to Lima and then had a short flight on to Cusco. We spent three happy days touring the beautiful city and getting re-acquainted (fortunately, we got along well.) Jayne quickly acclimatised to the altitude and, despite a bad back, coped well with our modest outings. I had no issues with the altitude, having been over 3,500m (and higher) for a few weeks already, but even I slowed when we tackled hills and I felt myself getting out of breath at every incline.
As the day of departure drew nearer, we both felt increasingly excited and just a little nervous.
20th August, 2015. G Adventure Meeting, Cusco.
After a three night stay in a gorgeous Cusco hotel (courtesy of Jayne's desire to at least have some comfort during her vacation) we moved to a different hotel today, ready to meet with our fellow travellers and our guide. However, things did not go quite to plan. For some reason we have been put into a hotel with a lovely group of youngsters (who we immediately befriended) only to find that they are doing the Lares Trek and not the Classic M-P trail.
Our meeting was then relocated to G Adventure's head office in Cusco and Jayne and I found ourselves in a room with a small group of strangers listening to a briefing about what we were going to tackle. We could barely hide our disappointment at the contrast between the youthful, friendly and bubbly group we had spent time with earlier and the new, rather older, less friendly and frankly more annoying new people.
At the end of the briefing we were given a duffel bag each, ordered not to exceed 6kgs and invited to hire sleeping bags, thin air mattresses and walking poles (which would account for 3kgs of our 6kgs allowance.)
Jayne and I had a meal out in Cusco to discuss our situation and then returned to our hotel to pack. 6kgs is a minuscule amount and it took over an hour to prune and reduce the things we had hoped to take, distilling our luggage to the absolute essentials. We both felt a little traumatised by the items we were forced to jettison, from Jayne's sandals to my iPad!
We will be carrying our own 'day packs', which theoretically should only contain: a waterproof, a camera, snacks, loo roll and water. We weighed them after we had finished packing. It looked like we would be carrying 6kgs each, as our packs included torches, toiletries, medicines, first aid kits and more. As neither of us eat gluten, we also had a large amount of snacks with us just in case the food on the trek became an issue.
Frustrated and anxious we went to bed with our luggage packed and our possessions separated into three piles: what we will have to carry; what we shall give to our porters to carry and what we shall leave behind at the hotel.
21st August, 2015. The Sacred Valley.
We awoke bright and early (5.00am) and made the most of a clean bathroom and hot shower before consuming a modest breakfast. Today is the start of our expedition. G Adventure have decided that we shall stay with our current hotel mates for our trip to the Sacred Valley, rather than joining our M-P trekking companions. Jayne and I are very happy with this as it allows us more time with these lovely people and spares us the negativity of the group we have barely met.
By 7.30am we were on the road. Our first port of call was the 'Christo Blanco' statue which stands above Cusco and was erected in the 1940's. We admired the views, took a group selfie and then headed on to the first of two G Adventure projects in Peru.
G Adventure have sponsored and built a village in the mountains, close to the Sacred Valley, and today a community of women and their children live and work there maintaining traditional lifestyles and cottage industries which they can then use to trade with visitors at a fair price. We were taught about spinning, dying and weaving, given concoctions of teas flavoured with coca leaves and other 'medicinal' herbs and plants and allowed to feed their llamas and alpacas.
We then drove up higher so we could see the Sacred Valley for ourselves. It was beautiful and is one of the most significant arteries of the Incan Empire, connecting Cusco to the base of M-P itself, before heading off to join the Amazon.
As the day progressed, we visited more Incan ruins and had a fabulous lunch at the second G Adventure project, which is a state of the art restaurant and kitchen. It provides revenue for the local community, high standards of hygiene, cookery training courses and inspires many locals to go into the catering business.
Our final destination for the day was the town of Ollantaytambo - which is lovely. Not least because of the bloody big Incan construction nestled into the mountains behind it! We spent an hour wandering the terraces, temples and pathways and were in time to watch the sun set before we returned to the main marketplace to purchase last minute essentials.
The guides are getting younger and younger every year!!!
We ended a beautiful day having a final meal together, our very own 'Last Supper' in the town. It culminated with a toast to an unfortunate chap called Gary. He and three of his friends had decided that they wanted to visit M-P a long time ago. He did the majority of the organising and sorting and then discovered, the day before he was due to set off, that he could not find his passport! Apparently he ransacked his home searching, but to no avail. He then had to wave goodbye to his three friends and remain in England. A great deal of good natured banter ensued when we were told about it. We decided that G Adventure, stood for Gary (Mis)Adventure, we wrote signs on the walls saying "Gary was not here, August 2015", and he was liberally blamed for all issues and incidents. We even christened a llama Gary, drank toasts to his good health and promised we would shout his name from the top of M-P. (If you are reading this Gary, we were genuinely gutted for you!)
22nd August, 2015. 11kms - Ollantaytambo to Wayllabamba.
We got up early again (6.00am) wanting to pack, make the most of our bathroom, eat breakfast and be ready for an 8.00am departure (though a noisy rooster immediately outside our bedroom window would have made a lie-in impossible anyway!)
Breakfast was basic, but Jayne and I made the most of this final meal with our excellent friends who would be going their own way very soon. Conversation was light and excited and typical of people about to step into the unknown. After hugs and kisses all round we reluctantly left our comrades and joined our M-P group for a mini van ride to Km 82 (otherwise known as the start of the Inca Trail.)
The logistics at the start are truly remarkable. 100's of trekkers, porters and guides meet up with each other, distribute final resources and snacks and utilise bathrooms. We posed for photos at the start point and then entered a queue for stringent passport/document checking and stamping.
At 10.00am precisely, we crossed over a suspension bridge and began our trek. Our new group is made up of two Kiwis, two Americans, one girl from Canada and a Brit. We have two guides, 16 porters and a chef. Quite an outfit all told.
Jayne was telling me to get my face straight - as I did not look happy!
The sun was mercilessly hot and little mosquitoes were out in force. We all put on suncream and insect repellent, but it made for hot and sticky walking. However, the scenery was majestic and the ruins we were passing were fabulous. Behind us a glacial mountain rose 5,800m into a powder blue sky and around us, steamy foliage, plants and flowers festooned the mountains and the hills. A river ran down the centre of the valley below us and every so often we saw and heard the train, which ran alongside it, taking day tourists to M-P.
Our guide was eager to see our rather dysfunctional group bond and kept pressing us to come up with a team name. I was having none of it and must admit that my face was a picture of dissatisfaction (the names I was coming up with in my head are unrepeatable!) When no-one in the group contributed any suggestions, Elias picked on me. "Paul, tell me why you are here?" I hesitated for a second and then replied "to explore Machu Picchu." "Good," said Elias, "how about we call ourselves the 'Incan Explorers'?" Everyone agreed and Elias got us to form a circle with our arms resting on each others' shoulders, one boot raised in front of us in the centre and we shouted out our team name on his count of three. "INCAN EXPLORERS!" It was a small step, but the atmosphere in the group started to turn a corner.
The walking was not too challenging and we were only scheduled to cover 11kms and gain a few 100 metres in altitude on this first day. Lunch was spectacular. Soup to start, followed by trout, rice and vegetables for the main and a sweet pudding made from black sweet corn for desert. We ate, drank water and hot tea (with coca leaves) and discussed the walking so far.
The afternoon saw more rises (and the occasional descent) but we fell into a steady rhythm of walking and by 4.30 we had arrived at our first camping ground. Our porters, who had arrived well in advance of us and set up the camp, greeted us with thunderous applause and high fives. We were immensely grateful to be given a bowl of hot water in which to wash and a drink of juice.
We were then formally introduced to all of our porters (before introducing ourselves.) There was a great deal of banter and humour as we exchanged names, age, marital status and more. Jayne and I, who had already started chatting to our fellow trekkers in an attempt to get to know them better, listened carefully as they spoke up, but wished we were still with the group we had spent the last two days with.
Our evening meal was chicken and vegetables (after a vegetable soup) and then we discussed the route for tomorrow. It is not going to be easy - 'Dead Woman's Pass'. It is steep, high and long. Wake up will be at 5.30am so I had better get to sleep. Our tent is warm and Jayne and I are snug in our sleeping bags. It is only 8.30pm!
Ni-night.
23rd August, 2015. 10kms - Wayllabamba to Pacaymayo.
Wake up was prompt at 5.30 with a cup of coca tea (quite a stimulant as it turns out.) We had 30 minutes to pack, brush our teeth and go for breakfast. As ever, the chef ('Puma') did his very best to provide Jayne and I with gluten free food and duly gave us a porridge made from quinoa (pronounced Keen-wah), sweetened with honey and some gluten free pancakes (not so successful!) By 6.30am we were ready to set off and, as the sun broke over the mountains, we were already in the higher tropical rainforest.
We knew today was going to be hard. The steepest slopes, the highest point and the most punishing downhill. From a starting elevation of 3,000m at the campsite, we are due to reach 'Dead Woman's Pass' after 5 and a half hours of constant climbing. It's altitude is 4,215m.
Our first sighting of Dead Woman's Pass
Walking in the dappled shade of the forest was beautiful. Streams flowed noisily, fed by recent snow melt from the week before and small waterfalls were everywhere. The path was well kept and the initial incline was not too steep. I was relieved to find that as we gained in altitude, the insects disappeared.
Two of our group, the Americans Susan and Steve from LA, had decided to set off before the rest of us had got out of bed. They were aware that the day was going to be a challenging one and they were the slowest yesterday. They figured that if they could get a little head start on the rest of us - all the better. I admired their consideration and they had Roger as a personal guide.
The views were indescribably brilliant as we walked up a valley to the saddle shaped pass far above. Sadly, Jayne had woken with a headache, a consequence of altitude, poor sleep and a slight cold. Despite taking co-codamol, it would not shift and got progressively worse. I was concerned. She had done so well on the first day, particularly considering her bad back and her inability to exercise for the last month, but this knocked her and she sat with eyes closed and her head in her hands whenever we had a sit down rest.
Elias completing paperwork for the group at a check-point
As promised, the incline grew increasingly steep and as we reached the second break point of the morning our guide (Elias) told us that the next section was all about individual pace. "This next part will take 1 and a half to 2 hours. Go at your own pace. We shall all meet up at the top." I set off last with Jayne (with Elias behind) and we walked together for about 15 minutes, but I soon found that the pace was not comfortable to me. It was rapidly approaching midday and the heat from the sun was merciless. Satisfied that Jayne had a guide behind her (and others from our group who we had passed), I forged ahead and pushed myself to maintain a pace which would see me overtake Susan and Steve and crest the pass on the stroke of noon. I have rarely felt more proud of myself and for the final ten minutes of the last, steepest section of the ascent, I was thanking God for everything I could think of - from my health and well-being to the efforts of our porters, each carrying 20kgs up this mountain.
Can you make out the pass - the saddle shaped bit circled above...gulp?! A welcome breeze at the top soon dried out my saturated t-shirt and I put on my jumper before catching a chill. A snack, a drink, a celebratory photo and then I waited for the rest of our group to reach the summit. The slowest person, Lorna from New Zealand, arrived one hour after I did.
We made it! Jayne and I with Elias and Roger, our two amazing guides We praised each other at the top and recuperated together, admiring the views before beginning our descent. Some of the group celebrated with small cans of cerveza they had purchased earlier in the morning. "OK Inca Explorers. It is time to go down," announced Elias, "it will take 2 to 2 and a half hours to reach the camp where we can eat our lunch. Have you all had your snacks?" We nodded. "OK, vamos a la playa."
It had made sense not to eat our lunch at checkpoint two and then tackle Dead Woman's Pass on a full stomach, but it meant we would be walking 10kms (from 6.30 - 2.30) before eating a meal. I pictured our porters already relaxing in camp waiting for us all.
Jayne, Ingrid (the Canadian) and I felt ready and refreshed at the top, so Elias gave us permission to go ahead on the descent, but he asked us to wait for him after 20 minutes. We did, and when he caught up with the rest of our group, he then gave us permission and instructions about finding our camp. Jayne's headache had improved dramatically and we forged a good pace downhill. Eventually, we arrived at our camp, ahead of many other walkers from other groups and we were again greeted with another rousing round of applause from our porters. I found the nearest tap and put my head straight under it.
The route down the other side
Jayne and I sprawled out on our air mattresses in our tent and dozed for half an hour until the remainder of our group arrived and we were called for lunch. We all then spent the remainder of the sunny afternoon chatting, resting and dozing in our tents and before we knew it, we were being called back for our evening meal at 7.00pm in the dark. It followed the same pattern as the previous night: soup, main course, mugs of tea and then a debrief about the day and a short Incan history session. Only when everyone was full and siping a hot drink did Elias then discuss the day ahead. "Tomorrow is going to be our longest day," he said. "16 kms and up to 10 and a half hours of trekking. We will get up at 5.30 again I think so we can start before it gets hot." Someone asked if it would be steep? "No not steep," laughed Elias, "Incan flat!" We all knew that 'Incan flat' was anything but and we went to bed chuckling as a light rain began to fall and high up in the hills we saw the flash of lightning and heard the distant rumble of thunder. I hope it is going to be fine tomorrow.
PS - The toilets at this camp are not pleasant. They are squat toilets and my body refuses to go, mainly because my legs are so tired I can barely squat (God help the women here!) At night we have permission to wee in the shrubs and bushes, rather than make the dangerous trek in the dark by the river, down uneven paths to the toilet block. At least we are camping uphill and upwind from them, some groups have their tents extremely close - the poor buggers!
Ni-night.
24th August, 2015. My Birthday. 16kms - Pacaymayo to Winaywayna.
I awoke at 5.30am to an early morning wake-up call and another cup of coca tea. Jayne whispered "Happy Birthday" to me, something I had completely forgotten about - what a lovely start.
Again we dressed quickly, packed and went for breakfast. We knew the day was going to be a challenging mix of rises and falls and a total distance of 16kms in length.
But what a day! From the very first Incan ruin to our first glimpse of the peak at the back of M-P, the views and the scenery were simply breathtaking. For the whole day we were treated to the true majesty of Peru. From cloudy escarpments to high level rainforests, Incan lookout stations to terraced plantations.
At lunch we were fed like kings culminating in a surprise birthday cake for me made by our Masterchef Puma. Jayne had disregarded my instruction not to tell anyone about my birthday and mentioned it to Elias the night before. After blowing out a makeshift match candle on top of the cake, everyone tucked in to a huge slice and the remaining cake was then distributed amongst the porters. Knowing I was coeliac, Puma had made me a separate apple trifle which I could eat.
I was rather embarrassed by the attention as the group even sang Happy Birthday to me, but I was pleased inside. I cannot imagine a better place to spend my 46th birthday.
Puma, our amazing chef and Lorna and Kathryn tucking into the cake
It rained lightly as we set off for the afternoon's trek, and distant thunder and lightning rumbled again through the mountains, but within 30 minutes the sun was out again and we were soon stripping out of our waterproofs and hiking in t-shirts once more.
At one particular Incan ruin, I climbed a flight of 100 stone steps to reach the summit whilst we waited for the others to catch up and I felt like the proverbial 'King of the Castle' as I surveyed the landscape below me.
Coming to the end of a wonderful third day of trekking
Eventually, nine hours after setting off, we arrived in camp tired, dusty yet exhilarated. It was 5.30pm. Everyone agreed that this had been the best day so far. We just had time for a quick wash, to set out our sleeping bags and organise the insides of our tents before the sun went down and then we lazed until tea.
Our porter bringing us warm water to wash with
Something rather smelly blocking my path to the toilets (oh...and a llama!)
After our regular debrief and history lesson, Elias invited us to work out a tip for our porters, as we would not have chance to speak to them tomorrow due to their quick turn around on the final day. He stressed that is was optional, but none of us hesitated in putting some money into the pot (about 120 soles each.) I was asked to act as the spokesman for our group to say a proper thank you to them all. We then agreed amongst ourselves that we would tip Elias and Roger separately with an equivalent sum of money when we finished walking on the final day.
When we had finished our meal all of the porters duly gathered inside our mess tent and I stood to give our thanks as Elias translated all I said into Quechua (pronounced KETCH-wan). One of the porters then responded on behalf of them all, telling us that they "were proud we had visited their country, they were impressed with our efforts walking and climbing and that we had been one good, big family for the time we were together." There then followed mutual rounds of applause and then, as each porter filed past us, we had the chance to shake hands or hug and wish each other well.
What a lovely salute to these amazing people who have made us very welcome in their mountains and made our trek physically possible.
Tomorrow we are getting up at 3.30am for the final ascent of M-P. We cannot wait.
Ni-night!!!!!
25th August, 2015. 6kms - Winaywayna to Machu Picchu.
The night was warmer than the previous, but neither Jayne nor I slept so well as we experienced our third and final night under canvas. For me, it was not simply the discomfort of an inadequate air mattress, but the confines of a small tent, stoney and sloping ground, a degree of tiredness from the previous day's exertion and the excitement of what the day ahead would bring...Machu Picchu!
We got up at 3.20am and packed silently, used wet-wipes liberally on bodies which had not showered now for four days and pulled on the last of our clean clothes. Breakfast today was a cup of tea with coca leaves (I'm getting to really like the combination!) and then it was time to head to the checkpoint. Still no joy on the toilet front for me, anything more than a wee in a heavily used and rather revolting squat toilet just doesn't seem possible.
Elias got us to the check point early enough to secure us a seat on a bench under the shelter and we then spent the next hour chatting, listening to iPods and playing cards. I took the opportunity to star gaze which was fabulous with so little light pollution. It was so clear I could track satellites moving across the heavens and make out the Southern Cross low on the horizon.
At 5.30am the M-P checkpoint staff arrived and we all started to file through, following this final, most ancient and original of the Incan pathways. By my reckoning, just over 200 of us set off on this last part of our pilgrimage.
Wrapped up in coats, hats and gloves, we walked briskly up the path. A few impatient individuals and groups passed us, eager to reach M-P first, but most people on the trail displayed more sensible behaviour, only passing when someone stopped for one reason or another (too hot, too cold, suncream, insect repellent, a drink, to take a photo or to catch their breath.)
The stars started to fade as the first colours of the dawn began to glow above the mountaintops. Shades of purple and blue appeared and a fine, milky coloured mist dissipated to reveal dark shades of green rainforest. I felt privileged to walk through such an awesome landscape. The smell of damp earth and the crunch of old leaves under countless boots accompanied us as we walked. Birdsong echoed through the canopy and the buzzing of loud insects beginning to stir served as a counterpoint to the flow of people walking in near silence.
The pace was ridiculously fast, but everyone was sure footed, energised with excitement and totally ignorant of the aches and pains three days of walking had inflicted on bodies unused to altitude. Before long we arrived at the 'Monkey Steps', one of the final hurdles before M-P. Using hands and feet, we swarmed up like an attacking army. At the top many stopped to admire yet another majestic view across a valley and we all knew we had less than a kilometre to go.
Elias asked me to lead the group and stop at the Incan terraces we would come to next, whilst he waited for the slower members of our group who had found our rapid pace difficult to maintain.
A few more twists and turns and we were there! I was taken by surprise as we walked between two large stone pillars. Before us lay Machu Picchu, a silhouette of greys and dark greens whilst the sun started to play on the distant mountains above and behind.
Jayne, Kathryn and Nadine - their first view of M-P
Everywhere I looked people were smiling, hugging and clapping hands. Hundreds of cameras were pointed in the direction of the Incan city and I lead our small group over to a vacant terrace where we all sat down to wait for Elias.
A few words of encouragement and praise were shared, photos and selfies were taken, but mostly a quiet serenity descended, as we all sat and stared at the view ahead. Kathryn asked me if I thought the sun would come up enough to illuminate the ruins of M-P before we started our walk down and I was about to say that I doubted it when the top of the highest temple started to glow bright yellow. Before our very eyes, as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky behind us, M-P began to shimmer as the shadows cast by the mountains bled away.
The City in the Clouds? More like The City of Gold!
I happened to look back at the faces of all those in our group and saw that the two stone pillars we had passed through earlier were now blindingly illuminated by the sun. "So that's the Sun Gate," I said out loud, not recognising until that moment where we had chosen to sit. I quickly pulled out my camera and snapped dazzling pictures of the sun framed by the large stones.
After a group photo, it was time to walk down our final path. Elias led and we all followed unable to stop ourselves from taking more and more photos as we drew ever nearer. By now the sun was fully up and a glorious landscape lay before us, holding our gaze and causing many to stumble.
Paddington made the trip over from England to visit his native Peru - 11 months in my deepest, darkest rucksack pocket before seeing the light of Machu Picchu!
Rich and verdant greens, sandy coloured stones, grey rocks, blue skies and a few wispy white clouds - Machu Picchu could not have looked better and Elias told us we were fortunate to see it at its best. "Sometimes, it is very cloudy. Sometimes it rains. Every time it is different. Today is a very good day."
I am sure that each member of our group experienced different emotions as we walked that final path. Exhaustion, relief, awe, sadness, fulfilment. Jayne was poignantly aware that her husband had promised to bring her here on her 40th birthday five years ago, but had died before being able to deliver. Her childhood desire to see M-P for herself had now been realised and the bad back, which had nearly forced her to pull out, was now a distant memory. For my part, I thought of loved ones I would have dearly liked to have shared this moment with and acknowledged the fact that this challenge marked the last of my 'Around the World' adventures.
Elias led us closer and closer, but said that we had to exit the site to get rid of bags, walking poles (which are not allowed in M-P) and have time for a twenty minute pit stop with toilets and a cafe. I asked if the toilets would have seats and Elias assured me they would. My pace quickened perceptively!
Once we had drank a coke, eaten a chocolate bar and been to the loo (apologies to anyone who followed me in my cubicle!), we re-entered M-P and Elias gave us a royal tour of the temples and buildings which lasted ninety minutes. He explained history, architecture, culture and why M-P had been deserted. He shared theories on why the Spanish had failed to find it in the 1500's and discussed the details of Hiram Bingham's expedition in the early 20th Century. He then told us we had just over an hour of free time to explore the site for ourselves. Despite the fact that it was nearing midday and had become extremely hot and humid (35 degrees) we did.
I cannot tell you how many photos I took whilst I was inside M-P ( * though I copied 10Gbs - some 1700 Peruvian pictures for Jayne prior to her departure.) Every corner, every building and temple, every field of grass was an excuse to stop, turn around and admire the view.
The pictures do not do it justice
It got to a point, as I climbed to the top of a main pathway inside the grounds for yet another spectacular view, that I announced aloud, "that's it! No more photos," and I put my camera away for the trek back down to the main exit.
Elias had given us all individual bus tickets and told us to meet up at the nearby town of Aguas Calientes for lunch at 1.00. We knew the bus trip would take 30 minutes and that they ran pretty much constantly, shuttling people back and forth between the train station and M-P. Five of us clambered aboard and headed straight for the back seats like naughty school children. We chuckled to ourselves as other passengers came on board and filled up from the front. We acknowledged that after four days hiking without a shower, having trekked over 45kms up and down outrageous mountains, we must have smelled a little ripe!
Lunch was a jubilant affair, as we demolished large platefuls of meat and veg, rice and chips (we'd been up since 3.20 remember and had only had the smallest of snacks.) We even shared a guinea pig, as we wanted to see what this national delicacy tasted like and Elias was a friend of the chef.
By 3.30 we were heading for the train station to catch a train back to Ollantaytambo. We promptly bumped into members of our first group and sat with them comparing experiences of the two treks. Jayne and I envied the fact that they had stayed the previous night in a hotel in Aguas Calientes and had all showered and donned clean clothes. They had also been able to use animals to carry their possessions and had not been restricted to a 6kg limit like we had.
The genuine warmth and affection we felt for each other was tangible and Jayne and I were touched by the fact that they had booked a restaurant for that evening back in Cusco and had reserved two extra places, hoping we would be able to join them!
Due to an issue with a broken carriage, our train was delayed for over an hour, but we all welcomed the opportunity to sit and relax and catch up with each other. We brought Kathryn over and introduced her to everyone, whilst the other members of our M-P group played cards and dozed with all the bags at the other end of the waiting area.
Eventually the train arrived. We all piled into our designated carriages and seats and then we sat back to enjoy the last of our M-P views. Skylights and huge windows in the train allowed us to admire the river, the mountains and the villages as we sped past.
The train stopped at Ollantaytambo and we journeyed by mini van back to the hotel we had stayed in on the first night to pick up belongings and souvenirs we had left behind. We said farewell to Elias and our M-P trekking companions. Jayne had organised a collection for him and made a short, but emotional speech of appreciation. "Elias, we all came to Machu Picchu with our own unique dreams and expectations. We all feel proud and honoured to have completed the trek. But we could not have done it without you. You are an amazing ambassador for G Adventure and for Peru and you have been a friend to us all. Thank you so much." She filled up a little as she added a few more words of praise and Elias hugged her and then me as we had to dash to a different vehicle to travel back to Cusco with our friends from group one.
Trekking M-P was a phenomenal experience. It was spiritual, challenging, enriching, awe-inspiring, emotional and exciting (I could add more superlatives, but you get the picture.) The sense of achievement in completing it is remarkable. It is an undoubted highlight of my year and yet again, I was blessed with good weather, good friends and safe travel.
Thank you Peru. Thank you Jayne. Thank you Elias, Roger and the porters. Thank you my Group one companions - you were beautiful. Thank you my Group two fellow trekkers - you definitely grew on me! And thank you Machu Picchu. I shall never forget my four day trek.
