If you go to Machu Picchu — and it’s one of those places that everyone should theoretically aspire to go to — you can take a plane, then a train, and then a bus that will deliver you in relative comfort to the entrance of this most sacred Incan site. Or, if you want to experience Machu Picchu and you’re feeling slightly masochistic, you can hike in via the ancient Incan road system, the most popular of which is the Inca Trail, a 28-mile, 4-day journey through a lush landscape, Incan ruins, and oscillating altitudes.
Of course we would do the Inca Trail. It’s one of the most famous and historic trails in the world, so we would do it despite the requirement of paying hundreds of dollars to a trekking company, applying for a permit months in advance, and traveling with a group of 13 other people as well as a caravan of porters.
Our trekking company instructed us to be ready to be picked up at our hotel Monday morning between 5:20-6am. At 5:19am, I was just finishing packing (like most trekkers, we would be leaving some bags at our hotel) when a guy from the trekking company came to collect us. He hurried us through the streets of Cusco and deposited us on the bus, where of course we were the first ones. Over the next 40 minutes, the bus drove around Cusco, collecting the rest of our trekking group, and then finally our guides, William and Raoul, who instructed us to sit back and relax during the 90-minute drive to Ollantaytambo and KM82 of the Inca Trail, where we would begin.
When we got to Ollantaytambo, I noticed two things about the other 13 people in our group. One, most everyone (except for 2-3 others) was wayyy younger than us. Two, everyone was carrying very small book-bags, whereas Mr. P and I had these hulking backpacks. It turned out that most everyone (except for 2-3 others) had hired personal porters to carry the bulk of their stuff.
Here’s our group at KM82. How fresh we looked!
In the Beginning
The weather, incidentally, was gorgeous. Who could have possibly imagined that this was the last time we’d see the sun for the entire rest of the trek?
Aw!
Our group started hiking. Right away there was an Inca site, although it was so insignificant I can’t recall its name or function.
Inca Site
Much more interesting is Patallacta, an agricultural station with extensive terraced land. From the Inca Trail, we had a nice view of Patallacta, although we could not go to it:
Patallacta
Soon, we would have lunch. The 22 porters had traveled ahead of us so they could set up the meal tent and cook lunch for us when we arrived. The food was a pleasant surprise. The first course was sliced avocado topped with diced eggs and peppers — downright gourmet. Next we had fish accompanied by vegetables and plenty of rice and potatoes. As always, lunch ended with a hot beverage. Everyone was delighted.
Mr. P on the Inca Trail
After lunch, our guide Will told us to hike at our own pace to our campsite so that he could judge our pace. This spurred several couples in our group to race to the campsite. Mr. P and I hung back, encumbered somewhat by our heavy backpacks, but also because we wanted to savor the Inca Trail. This was hiking heaven.
From the Inca Trail
Still, despite our nonchalance, I must brag that we were the third couple at the campsite.
Campsite
I must mention that since we arrived in Peru, the country was in the throes of a national holiday. Santa Rosa de Lima day commerated the death of St. Rose, a Pervuvian woman in the 18th century who cared for the sick. She also deliberately made herself ugly by chopping her hair off and rubbing coal on her face. All of which means… fiesta! The small village next to our campsite was having a party, and they didn’t seem to overtly mind if the trekkers came, and they were selling cheap beer, so:
Fiesta
The locals were all drinking chicha, a corn beer that no Westerner dare touch due to its iffy manufacturing process, and also because chicha evidently can make you quite wasted. We witnessed a man so drunk that he tripped over a sleeping dog, and then turned around and kicked the dog (to the horror of the trekkers), and then struggled to his feet and tripped again, on nothing. Fiesta!
Fiesta
Soon, we went back to the campsite for dinner and then hit the hay, as it had been a long day, and Day Two would be the most physically punishing on the trek…
