Before I started writing about my travels in Peru I had no idea how many instalments my time there would yield, and yet here we are at the start of part 6. We have already come a long way which would make Lima a distant memory were the present not so absorbing as to oust any reminiscences. So let us turn our attention as ever to the road yet untrodden and put our best foot forward.
At the end of part five we were sitting in the sun outside a café awaiting the reopening of the road to the start of the Inca Trail. After a while news reached us that we would be unable to set off until 10am and so we decided to wander over to the plaza and maybe pickup some last minute provisions for the days ahead. As well as the shops there were the usual swarms of locals trying their hardest to peddle everything from drinks and snacks to naff bamboo walking canes with brightly coloured machine woven materiel made into a little hat like thing which was put over the top end for decoration. Another thing being sold by toothless old women and children alike were coca leaves. These are the same leaves which are used to make the coca tea that I (and the others) had been drinking since the beginning of the trip but it was for a different reason that they were being bought here. It is believed that when the Inca walked the trail they would roll together wads of leaves and holding them in their cheek would slowly chew them to release the juices within. In the centre of the bundle of leaves was put a sprinkling of an odd black substance (which could be made of a number of things including ash) this was also for sale with the leaves and in this case resembled a small black pebble, it was quite hard but small flakes could be scratched off with a fingernail. The reason for doing this was that as well as helping with the altitude it also gave the Inca more energy and kept them alert whilst suppressing appetite. Of course there is a very good reason why it would do all that and some of you will already suspect it if in fact you don't already know. It is from coca leaves that cocaine is made. I say 'made' because the substances that are contained within the leaves include a variety of alkaloids including those whose names include the word cocaine but this is not the same chemical that we know as a drug. One of Peru's biggest industries is the export of partially processed coca leaves to countries (such as Columbia) where they are processed further to make the drug cocaine. This industry isn't exactly legal despite being such a major source of revenue for the country but it would be very hard to stop it happening as it is mainly done in the many small communities throughout the jungle as a sort of cottage industry. Anyway, even if the coca isn't processed into cocaine in bulk in Peru it is converted in minute quantities by locals and tourists alike. When the leaves are chewed saliva mixes with and dissolves the chemicals in the leaves which are in turn chewed together with the black stuff which causes a very weak chemical reaction resulting in tiny amounts of cocaine being produced. This is mostly absorbed into the blood stream through the mouth causing the chewers mouth to become both numb and less importantly, green.
After what seemed like ages the road was declared open again (but only for an hour or so) and there was a mad dash as all the different tour groups rushed to their respective vehicles and set off down the dirt track. I have to say that the road wasn't so much in need of repair as being built in the first place but if repair was required then part of it must have been in a desperately poor state. After a seemingly short time travelling in convoy along a road only wide enough to allow one way traffic we suddenly broke off from the rest as we took a fork in the road. From here on we saw no other vehicles either in front or behind. Part of the reason for this was almost certainly that the larger busses would never have made it along this route and there were times I wondered if we would but our driver seemed to know what he was doing and as such he pressed ahead with all the speed he could muster. We passed more of the small mud brick communities we had seen throughout Peru and the animals from these communities stood stubbornly in the road just as they had everywhere else we had been and in due course we arrived at a small building near to which we parked. Suddenly there were people everywhere again selling the same things we could have bought in Ollantaytambo only I expect for higher prices, anyone who had been in two minds about those decorated bamboo walking canes before would have to pay for their procrastination here. The building contained the last half decent toilets we would be seeing for about three days and despite the relatively small charge for their use they were doing more trade than anyone else.
So here we were at km88 or as the locals call the village that is in roughly the same place Qorihuayrachina, but for us English speaking folk km88 is a lot easier to say. Here, rather than set off (something I was rather keen to do) we had to wait again. You see despite being on a 'rough and ready' tour we would on this occasion not take the hardest possible option as we were to be helped along on the trail by a team of porters and a cook. I will be talking more about these hard working fellows later but for now will just say that they were late and we had to wait for them. After waiting for a time being pestered all the while by locals trying to sell us stuff we either had or didn't want we decided to set off without them and let them catch us up on the way. We wandered a short distance along the train track to a sort of guard hut at one side of a bridge. Here we all had to sign onto the trail and show our tickets before crossing the bridge and setting forth on a trek I had wanted to do since the first time I heard of it.
It is perhaps appropriate at this time to say a little bit about the Inca Trail itself. The trail is essentially the path through the mountains used by the Incas to get from place to place. They had no vehicles and they didn't ride on animals (llamas are too weak backed for that) and so the trails are made for walking on. In some places just dirt paths and in others stone roads and stairs (which I believe llamas can climb but I didn't see any doing so). Trails once linked all the Inca centres and all the lesser places between them but the one we were to walk went to Machu Picchu and as such was more sacred and restricted to the elite - to walk it was considered an act of devotion. We would not be walking the entire length of the trail as much of the early part is relatively ordinary but we would be covering the last 48km of it over the toughest terrain it offers at altitudes of up to 4200m. There are a number of different configurations offered by the companies who run the tours of the trail with alternative starting points (and therefore different distances to walk) and different numbers of days taken to complete the task. We were to be going on what is called a four day tour presumably because it takes up some part of four consecutive days but in fact is more like three days as half of the first and last days are spent travelling. Anyway, having all crossed the bridge we were at very long last allowed to start the walking. It was another lovely day and much of the first section of the walk was a gentle introduction following the course of the Cusichaca River. We passed occasional mud brick houses which despite their prime location did not have people selling things outside them and onto the beginning of the hills. After only an hour or even less we climbed a short steep hill to find the Llactapata ruins, there was some Inca rubble on the hilltop where we stood but looking way down into the valley bottom there were the remains of what is believed to be a large utilitarian centre where food was farmed for supply to other Inca Trail sites. We had a good bit of time here to stand and stare at it and to wonder at the fantastic mountain scenery (which I never tired of) as here we had to wait for the porters to catch up. It had been expected that they would have passed us by now and as they hadn't we stood about while Stephan went to investigate. It transpired that as the porters are not permitted to carry more than 25kg of equipment (for their own health's sake) there are sometimes checks done at the start of the trail to ensure none of them are overloaded. This procedure takes a lot of time and so our porters had been delayed. All this waiting around was becoming rather tedious and although I don't often get impatient (I hope) this was one occasion when I did simply because I had been looking forward to walking the Inca Trail for a very long time, it really was a dream come true but I did want to be 'walking' the trail not standing about on it.
Eventually and probably after much less time than it seemed our porters were all present and accounted for and we were back on the way. We weren't allowed to go very far though before we had to stop again, this time for lunch. In order to reduce the environmental impact of tourism on the trail designated lunching and camping areas must be used and when we arrived at our lunch spot the group in front of us were still finishing off, so even more sitting around. By this time my impatience was even irritating me so it was fortunate that the lunch was so unexpectedly good (considering the circumstances) that it took my mind off of it. The food we were served on the trail was always good and knowing what basic equipment they had to make it with it was an impressive feat. I can't remember exactly what we had for lunch that day but I do remember that whilst sat on a folding stool about our lunch table (which had a table cloth on!) we quite unexpectedly saw a condor. Or at least we were told it was a condor but it was moving so fast in pursuit of some smaller unluckier bird that to be honest I didn't get much of a look at it. Nice to think I saw one though.
With lunch done with we got back to the business at hand and continued on towards our first camp site. According to Stephan (who had walked the trail a number of times before) he had always camped the first night further on than we were stopping. It wasn't clear if we were stopping sooner intentionally or if we had been forced to due to our late start and slow progress. Stephan would have preferred his usual spot for reasons that would become clear the next day. Anyway by the time we got to camp the porters (who had run on ahead) had already set up our tents and the kitchen and dining tents and had made a start on the dinner. To reach our tents we passed a couple of mud brick huts outside of which was a slaughtered pig that had been sliced down the middle and splayed out on a rock presumably in readiness for butchery. This was not our dinner, nor was the mangy parrot that was keeping an eye on it. After settling into our tents we made our way to the dining tent to have hot drinks and snacks before dinner. Here we remained until dinner (quite some time later) we filled the time playing half remembered dinner table games and generally being raucously high spirited. Apparently it was more common even at this early stage on the trail for groups to be rather quiet although whether this was due to them reflecting on the profound beauty of their experience or that they were simply knackered wasn't made clear. Our jocular banter continued throughout and after dinner but not too late a night was to be had as the next day we would be up at six to walk rather more than the 12km we had managed today over far more taxing terrain. The short walk by torch light back to my tent had me almost loosing my footing not only because of the uneven ground but also because I was looking skyward at what was the most spectacular starscape I have ever seen, a view that may one day be rivalled but I doubt ever bettered - without going to space that is.
My first nights sleep in a tent went pretty well, my time camping in Australia and New Zealand taught me how to ignore the fact that I was lying on hard lumpy and sloping ground in a sleeping bag that restricts normal movement with the sounds of the night seeming a bit too close. These sounds on this occasion included a pig snuffling about. The same pig that'd almost squealed the Andes down when its feet were tied up during our dinner, presumably to stop it wandering about at night. The morning soon came and with it an excellent three course breakfast over which I discovered that the others had not found their first nights camping as acceptable as I had. Anyway, by 7:30am we were on the way again and in the queue at the checkpoint with all the other people and porters walking the trail waiting to have our tickets stamped before we could continue onward. For the main part of today we were not required to walk together as a group as there were no ruins to have explained to us, this meant that we could all go at our own pace so I could burn off some energy while others could go at a more comfortable speed. That said, I wasn't exactly running as the path was uphill all the way to the highest point which was called Warmiwanusqa, or 'Dead Woman's Pass'.
It didn't take all that long to be ahead of the main crowd and a little while after that I was passing porters up near the front, although I was carrying only a light day bag with nothing heavier than water snacks and warm clothes, some of them were carrying huge gas canisters on their backs and many other things besides. Also, even though I was making good progress I was (unlike the porters) breathing very hard so as not to asphyxiate in the thin air. I felt that I had acclimatised pretty well in the time I had been at altitude but this degree of exertion for this length of time had not been tried before. It would be fair to say that even at sea level to walk up a slope like this with any speed would cause some puffing and panting but here I had to breathe at least twice as hard as I might lower down. I took a couple of short rests along the way but only for long enough for my heart rate and breathing to return to normal before pressing onto the top. It took me three and a quarter hours to reach the top. This time is by no means a record (there is an annual race) but I feel it is a respectable personal best. When I arrived at the top there were a number of other people sat on rocks looking back down the path we had all just walked at those still climbing slowly upwards. Incidentally I was the first of our group to the top (not that it was a race), I only mention it because earlier in the trip when asking Stephan about the trail he had boasted that when we finally struggled to the top he would be sat there tapping his watch and nonchalantly smoking a cigarette (something which is apparently difficult to do at altitude).
Simon, who had been ahead of me for most of the day so far reached the top next and a short while later Stephan and Sandy joined us but Helen, Per and our guide were nowhere in sight. Once rested it was time to continue on and as everyone knows 'what goes up must come down' which in this case meant a seemingly endless stone staircase going down the other side of the pass. Much of the way up had been on similar stone steps (carved by the Inca) but I find going up much easier than coming down and with already tired legs the decent was to prove more challenging than I might have liked. It was nice to get out of the cold wind that blew across the tops where uncharacteristic dark clouds had started to gather and get down to where our lunch tent had been set up and our porters had a jug of hot chicha for us that was very welcome indeed. Once the others arrived it was time for another excellent meal of soup followed by Lomo Saltado (a personal favourite) and of course DIY coffee. Then there were a few more hours of downward marching to reach our camping ground which this time was rather busy. The mood at dinner that night wasn't quite as lively as the night before but we were all faring pretty well, all except Stephan who complained of feeling under the weather and went to bed without eating. That night the ground was lumpier and more sloping than the night before although the nocturnal rummagings were apparently of human origin this time, not that I heard them as I slept adequately until dawn despite the persistent aching of my legs.
At breakfast the next day I discovered once again that the others hadn't had very restful nights and Stephan looked pretty bad, he skipped breakfast and set off ahead of us which is about all anyone could do who was feeling ill as the only way off the trail was to walk or be carried. This would be illustrated later; fortunately not by Stephan. The walking started with a crowded uphill climb to an Inca lookout post. Later after a talk from our guide it was back up hill past a 'lake' (or pond as I call them) which I only mention as it is of significance later. From the pond we carried on up to a small plateau where I found Stephan and also discovered what happened to people who became unable to continue along the trail on their own two feet. Some poor chap who I believe had succumbed to a terrible case of altitude sickness was strapped to a stretcher with an oxygen mask on and a drip. For the remainder of the trail four porters had to carry him which considering some of the trail was tricky to walk over in single file (using hands for support) it is amazing that it was possible and must surely have been scary for the invalid. It did illustrate the reality of out situation as there was no way any sort of emergency services could be called out, no phones, no helicopter rescue, no short cut back to civilisation the only way out was through, a reminder to anyone feeling worn out to just keep on going. Fortunately I was feeling pretty fine and by this time Stephan seemed a little perkier too.
Near to the bottom of the next down hill section was a very narrow set of steps up a cliff side to a set of ruins perched on top of a levelled off rocky pinnacle. There were a number of features here but the one of greatest interest was the irrigation system. Remember the pond I mentioned earlier? Well the Inca built a pipe system from that pond over the mountaintop (and therefore up hill) and down to this site. Using this pipe as a siphon they drew water over the hill and down into channels that ran right round the walls of the site which is even more impressive when you consider that they built the pipe work with stone. After this we were to reach a section of the trail I had been looking forward to since I heard of it. I have been in forests and rain forests before but this would be my first time walking through a cloud forest. I am not entirely sure what the definition of a cloud forest is but there were trees and clouds in combination which I suppose is the main part of it. The trees were all covered in thin wispy dangling moss and between these there were wild orchids and other flowers. It was a tremendous sight to see the clouds swirling about us, it was very atmospheric and it seemed quieter here too. Just before our decent from the forest we stopped for lunch which was perhaps the most impressive yet both in variety and quantity and after this with the threat of rain (which never quite happened) we set off on the two hour down hill (stairs again) stretch to our final camping ground. Along the way we saw more ruins including another Inca water feature involving a series of kind of cubicles where the water flowed in at the top and into a basin from which it ran out the bottom and into the next one down.
As we turned a corner where there was a gap in the bamboo we could see in the distance the tall peak of Huayna Picchu, the steep rocky point that forms the backdrop to Machu Picchu. We were getting close but could not see our goal from here, we would have to walk around the mountain and approach it from the other side. Just before we arrived at our camping ground for the night we were offered a choice, either go straight down and join the queue for the only showers on the whole trail or take the longer route through some more ruins. By this time everyone was tired and the though of a hot shower was temptation indeed, combine this with a general feeling that we would be seeing the best of the Inca rocks the next morning so why visit the minor ones and all of a sudden I was alone on the trail. In a way it was nice to be walking on my own (hardly anyone chose to do this extra bit so it was almost deserted) as I got to feel a bit more like an explorer and to be honest I was absolutely determined to see everything the trail had to offer. Also the ruins were getting progressively bigger and more impressive as we neared our destination so I felt they were worth a look. As it turned out they were mainly huge terraces with a few other buildings dotted about but still worth seeing. By the time I made my way down to the camping ground (which was very busy and noisy with every inch of the steep mountainside was used for something) most of the others were already through the showers and onto the beer. I couldn't be bothered to queue for the shower and in any case there was one more set of Inca rocks to see before dinner. Despite his efforts to round us all up to go and see them our guide could only persuade Per and I as the others had obviously had enough for the day. The ruins were called Winaywayna and were the best yet. They are considered by some to be a mini Machu Picchu and it is probably its sister site. It had a full village of buildings, significant terraces, a cascade of 16 water cubicle thingies and a sun temple. On top of all this the views across the Urubamba valley to the distant mountains glowing in the tinted evening light were worth the walk on their own.
And with that image I am going to leave you again. I must confess that I had expected to get to Machu Picchu in this instalment but I have gone on long enough already and I don't want to rush it so it will just have to wait. Machu Picchu incidentally isn't the only treat that awaits you in part 7 but I'll keep that as a surprise.
David.