Day 1 – 19km
And here it begins. I was ready for 4am to be picked up by my guide and to meet the rest of the party on the five-day-four-night trek through the lands of Salkantay and eventually on to Machu Picchu. Neilton, our main guide for the duration, welcomed me at the door of my hostel before we walked for a further fifteen minutes, picking up the other trekkers from their hotels and hostels. I must say, I immediately liked Neilton, he was funny, knowledgeable, friendly and thoughtful – this was off to a good start.
After collecting the rest of the guys and girls, we made our way to the square where we boarded our bus. I was sold this tour as being around 15 people on it, with cooks and tour guides and ‘horseman’ etc, so when we were on the bus, waiting to leave, and there were about 30 people on the transport; suspicions started to grow. However, after a short while it was Neilton who stepped up and explained that the bus actually held two groups and would only be taking us to our first destination and the start of the trek; ‘Mollepata’.
After the two and a half hour drive, we were welcomed to a restaurant for a breakfast that would fuel us for the morning and the start of the walk, starting at 2,900 meters above sea level. Before we began though, we were told to separate our belongings into items that we would need during the day and, well, everything else as this would be loaded on to the horses and carried to our camp. So, with a full(ish) stomach we were off and our first part was pretty easy as it was back into a local truck to be carried up the first couple of kilometres (we were running slightly behind schedule) like cattle…it was a cattle truck. Still, it was an interesting way to meet our multi-cultural group; at close quarters.
After a short ride up the hill we disembarked our truck and were at last on foot, officially; trekking. The going was moderate at first, a slight incline but even at the outset the views through the valley were fantastic, such a picturesque part of the world dominated by green terraces, small mountains and hills.
After an hour or so we hit the harder part of the day as we started to climb, steeper and steeper. It was at this point we had our first casualty of the day as the altitude, the heavy backpack and the exertion got to him – we did feel for him as he displayed the breakfast we had earlier, once more. With two guides, we were able to charge on while the slightly slower members of the group still had the advantage of their own personal, professional accompaniment.
We had climbed 600 meters and were now at 3,500 meters for our lunch. This was the first sampling of what good food we were going to enjoy for the rest of the trek. How the cooks managed to produce such quality was astounding. After lunch we were on our feet once more, pacing along hillsides and into valley plateaus before eventually reaching our camp for the night; ‘Soraypampa’ which was at 3,900 meters above sea level and as a result, the camp was freezing. However, that didn’t matter one bit as the views that welcomed us as we approached the camp were breath-taking (not just because of the altitude). The campsite is flanked by the Umantay mountain and the namesake of this tour; Salkantay, which was already looking impressive and we had not even started our approach yet; that would come tomorrow.
Day 2 – 21km
We awoke at 5am ready to start this; the hardest day of the entire tour. The night was indeed cold and it wasn’t the most comfortable sleep but we were awoken with coca tea by the cooks and a hearty breakfast of bread, more tea, butter, tea, jam, pancakes, tea and more bread. We were ready to leave by 6am and that was it, we were off.
The first part of the trek was pretty easy-going as we climbed shallow inclines interspersed with flat periods, but all the while we were adding meters on to our ascent. We passed through Salkantaypampa and had a short break to enjoy spectacular views of the mountains, interact with some locals who were selling traditional offerings and look at the most scary of all of the elements of this trek; ‘The Gringo Killer’! This was the main ascent today where we would zig-zag our way up the hill-come-mountain to the left of Salkantay, climbing from 4,100 meters to 4,650 meters.
This was, without question, one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. To attempt to describe the feeling is going to be difficult as it is a combination of factors: Firstly, there is the physical exertion of keeping your legs pumping as you continuously walk uphill for at least an hour; that is hard enough in its own right. Much more than that however is the altitude factor. Unless you have exerted yourself, physically, at 4,000+ meters you won’t appreciate the feeling of gasping for air, no, more than that; panting for air, craving oxygen. It is what I would imagine suffocating would feel like as your lungs work harder than they have ever had to, to extract the limited oxygen from the air. Your legs start to shake as your muscles begin to produce lactic acid at an alarming rate, your ribcage and diaphragm ache as they are working hard just to keep you from passing out, but you can’t stop your legs, you can’t stop for a second otherwise you won’t get going again, your body won’t let you. It was at this point I turned to my mind and my inspiration; the thought of someone who would drive me on, keep me going…I had to make it and through the sweat, the burning sensation inside my body while the outside was freezing, through the pain and the hurt, I made it! I had completed the Gringo Killer and defied the name! What an astonishing feeling and as my body slowly started to relax, to return to a state of relative normality, there was the view, there was the look over the shoulder at what I had just completed – what a feeling!
After my breathing had returned to a healthy; ‘very fast’ it was onward, I turned the corner and there it was..another bl**dy hill! At least this one was much more gentle in gradient and past the hill was the lagoon where we would take our snacks before completing the last little leg to get to the Salkantay pass and an impressively close view of the mountain.
What an impressive and imposing mountain Salkantay is. I am pretty sure that very few people have ever made it to the peak as it is just too angular and aggressive with the constant promise of avalanches and pretty much guaranteed death! We spent some time at the peak of the pass, taking pictures, catching our breath, recovering from the onslaught and learning about some of the Quechua traditions. It is worth noting that the ‘Incas’ were the kings of the Quechua people so there has never really been an ‘Incan’ civilisation. There you go readers, passing on some history lessons there from Neilton.
Back on our feet and this time we were heading downhill (yeah!) stopping at Huayracpampa for a bite of lunch. This was, yet again, an overwhelmingly picturesque walk through and down the valley to the lunch-spot with a rugged moorland joining the two mountain ranges. It was amazing to think that in just over half-a-day we had moved through such diverse terrains.
A little further and after we had crossed a river which furrowed two mountain ranges we arrived in the small village of Chaullay where the best thing to do after trekking at heights of 4,650 meters would be to…play a game of football; of course! Unfortunately an old knee injury (I know, excuses, excuses) had flared up a little during the trek so I sat this one out but I must say it was highly entertaining watching Europe take on the ‘rest of the world’, on a stone-plagued grass field with football boots made of…skin. Judging by the breathing rate, football at altitude is pretty tough. A lovely dinner…again…and we were to our tents for a slightly warmer night and yet another early rise in the morning.
Day 3 – 20km
With a lie-in today, we were once more awoken with a lovely cup of tea, at 6am, before having breakfast and setting out on the third day of the trek by 7am. This was an easy start, well, easy for people with fully functioning knees (ok, ok, I will not mention this knee again) as it was downhill at first. We negotiated our way down the valley, crossing the river and then starting to climb slightly once more, as we followed the river down it’s flank, through waterfalls, passing over tributaries of the fast flowing river and yet again sampling a new terrain; the jungle.
This walk was easier than the steep climbs on the second day, but we were moving at a decent pace and enjoying the surroundings as we ploughed forward. Our destination was Playa where we would be picked up by a mini bus to reach this small town and take our lunch, but not before round two with the football. This time, I would break out that old faithful companion of idiocy as I decided to throw caution to the wind and join in. This time it was South America versus the rest of the world, but they were a man-down so because of my ties with South America (and a totally made up heritage) I was with the South Americans! I can indeed confirm that playing football at altitude is difficult! But well worth it, especially the complimentary comment I got from the Brazilian! That made it official for me – I could have been a pro!
After football and after lunch we all got back in the mini-bus to go and visit the hot pools. What a truly delightful and welcome addition to the trek this was. We were there for around an hour and a half in pools of between 25 and 35 degrees Celsius with the river in the background providing a fantastic setting. What a joy it was to relax the body and just enjoy talking with the guys on the trek and generally unwinding (plus feeling a little bit cleaner) before heading to Santa Teresa and our camp to eat dinner, enjoy the camp fire and struggle to sleep with the party that was going on outside. Oh well, if it wasn’t the cold keeping us awake it may well be the party-goers outside!
Day 4 – 25km
With the kindness of a lie-in today, we were up at 6:30am for breakfast and away at 7:30am! The previous night we had to make a group decision as to whether to take the bus for the first part of the journey, or to walk it. I have to be honest; I was all for the bus but found myself in the minority (I was only for the bus because of that ‘k’ word of an injury of course) so we were off on foot again.
About ten minutes into the journey, I was pleased that we had opted to continue walking as we were asked; “have you ever used the cable car across the river?” The answer was of course, no, and here we were being presented with this opportunity. So, we changed our route slightly and headed for the state-of-the-art river crossing which was a cradle made for two people set on a wire suspended across the river and a system of ropes to pull yourself across. I have to say that this was a lot of fun, thoroughly enjoyable and any previous thoughts about the bus had all but vanished.
After crossing the river we continued our trek, an undulating offering so it wasn’t too difficult and we were passing large mountains, following rivers, seeing huge man-made waterfalls and being shown equally huge, majestic large waterfalls on this leg of the journey. Unless you are seriously fatigued or injured, don’t take the bus people, grin and bear it and walk, continue the walk as it is definitely worth it.
Our destination for lunch was ‘Hidroelectrica’ and as we followed the initial part of the railway, we soon veered off and headed up some stairs, through some rough foliage before appearing on the other side, and being told to look around as the mountain towering above us was Machu Picchu mountain! I think for all of us there was a sense of grandeur and early achievement as we had made it, well, pretty much made it.
We were now going to follow the old railway which would take us from the back of Machu Picchu to the town of Aguas Calientes, a height of 2,000 meters where we would stay in a hostel, with a hot shower (had to get that in) before waking the next morning to start trekking at 4am to the foot of Machu Picchu. However that was tomorrow and before that, we had a date with a local restaurant and a final group dinner. The theme of great food was continued in this restaurant and after dinner it was back to the hostel and to bed, braced for the early start in the morning.
Day 5 – 1,707 steps
We were up and ready to go at 4am for this; the final stage of the trek, the pinnacle of the trip: Machu Picchu. However, to get there, Neilton had broken the fantastic news to us that we would need to climb the 1,707 steps to reach the entrance to the ‘hidden city’. With our legs weary from the trekking and after waiting for 15 or 20 minutes for the gate at the foot of the mountain to be opened, allowing us through, we were at last off.
Turning right as the road splits we were told to follow the arrows which would keep us to the way of the stairs. Forget the Gringo Killer on Day 2, this for me, was harder. As the younger members of the group started their ascent (and in one case finished it in 18 minutes) I was starting to fade and having to rest several times on the way up, but once again, being driven by memories and the thoughts of various loved ones (ahhhh) I made it, it took me 45 minutes but I had reached the top and was in the queue for being one of the first through the gates and into Machu Picchu (well, one of the first 150 people at least!)
We met Neilton and the rest of the group on the other side of the gate ready for his last duty; the tour of Machu Picchu. When we were all together, you never guessed what we did? We climbed more stairs to arrive at the opening and my good God was the wait worth it. There it was; Machu Picchu. This was a truly magical place, we all knew it from the moment we walked into the City and the views started to open up, being kissed bu the morning sun.
Neilton took us round some of the significant sites, explaining the heritage and the theories behind this sacred place. As the morning pushed forward, we were rewarded with the sunrise between two of the surrounding mountain peaks and with the touch of the sun on the terraces; the experience took on a whole new level. We had been fortunate to have a completely clear day, not a cloud in the sky and not only could we see the terraces being tinted with sunlight one by one, but we could see all the surrounding beauty of the mountains, valleys, lakes and rivers.
When Neilton had completed his tour it was time for us to part; he and his colleague Jean had been exceptional as guides and they were tipped in a manner befitting their dedication to our comfort, enjoyment, safety and experience. It was then, with the freedom to walk round Machu Picchu at our own pace that the scale of what we had done hit us. For a moment, looking out at the whole of Machu Picchu, alone, your mind and body forget the physical extremes you had put it through and you were able to gaze in wonderment at not only your own personal achievement, but the achievement that an ancient civilisation had managed to complete all those years ago with limited tools. A definite highlight of my entire trip to date, and something that I felt proud to have completed, a special moment for me.
The rest of the day was spent wandering round Machu Picchu before I finally caved and got the bus back down to Aguas Caliente and enjoyed a relaxing rest-of-the-afternoon in the main square, sampling local markets and food before being joined by my new amigos; my trekking companions, for a final dinner before heading back to Cusco via the combination of the train and a minibus.
This was not the most ideal way to end the trek as the train was at 9pm and when we were dropped off by the bus it was around 1am in Cusco and after knocking for half an hour on the door of my hostel, with no answer, I was fortunate enough to turn around and notice another hostel which, thankfully, was open and I had a bed for the night.
A huge to thank you for all who were involved in the trek, from the guides to my fellow trekkers; an experience I will never, ever forget.
