She’s a dead woman for a reason – Conquering the Inca Trail Sexy Llama Style

The Inca Trail.  It’s long been a dream of mine to trek it, and it was definitely the catalyst behind the Peruvian adventure that Kel had come over to join me for.   We’re certainly not alone in this dream though.  Due to the immense popularity of the pilgrimage to Machu Picchu, permits are strictly regulated with only 500 being issued per day (and this only covers about 200 tourists once guides and porters are taken into account), so you need to book many months in advance to secure a spot.  Unfortunately this meant a few of our new friends from our tour group (Canadians Honey and Moon and the un-germanlike German Christiane) couldn’t join us on the trail – they had to do the Lares trek instead.  What it did mean though, was that our group was to be merged with some members from another G adventures tour (who had managed to book sufficiently early to get the Inca permits).  As we set off on the bus from our amazing accommodation in the Sacred Valley to pick them up from their digs in Ollantaytambo, we speculated about the possibility that it might be a group of incredibly hot guys who were joining us.  Never hurts to dream until proven otherwise anyway.    I was looking for a Brad Pitt or maybe a Bradley Cooper, and whilst we didn’t get that, we did get one cast member from the hangover at least – his name was Alan and yes he’d got into some trouble in Vegas a month prior. He was joined by high school mates Jef and Jason and they instantly came across as a few down to earth young Aussie guys who would be good for the group dynamic.  Phew.  In a further stroke of luck, somehow Jef must have known our guide Angel would christen our group “The Sexy Llamas” as he’d (unknowingly?) brought a soft llama toy along for the ride.  Every team needs a mascot after all.

Arriving at the starting line (km 82) the large scale tourist production that this trek has become was immediately apparent.  The queue to get in rivalled Disneyland.  My heart deflated a little – call me a spoilt trekker, but the thought of traipsing along a path with 500 others for 4 days just didn’t really resonate.  I was super happy to discover this wasn’t going to be the case once we got a few hours in though – for one thing the porters were all off like a rocket, and the various other groups all seemed to be going at different paces and stopping at different places too.  It had just been the insanely thorough passport checking to get in that had caused the glut.  Phew again.

Ready set GO!

Our purple porters dominated the track

Day 1 of the hike had been described as an Andean flat – this roughly translates to up and down and up and up and down and up but none of it too steep or strenuous (especially if you’re Andean).  The sun was surprisingly hot, but the stunning scenery helped me keep my cool.  I don’t know what I was really expecting from the trail (besides the obvious wonder of Machu Picchu at the end), but the incredible beauty all around me just blew all my expectations out of the water.  Neither words nor pictures will ever do it justice, but think majestic snow-capped mountains, gushing rivers, lush green valleys and bright blue skies and you’re getting some idea.

Enjoying the scenery from the get go

As we made our way up, I was able to keep well fueled on the awesome snack packs Kel had brought over from Australia (nothing says trekking like a bag of assorted red frogs, snakes, snickers and muesli bars!)  We stopped for a couple of breaks here and there to make sure everyone was doing ok and also for our assistant guide Cliser to give us a run down on the origins and traditions of the Chicha (the corn beer they brew there)… and of course a taste test to go with it.  My mind instantly flashed to Kriegel’s facebook warning that had come through the night before: “Whatever you do, don’t drink the local beer – it did terrible things to me” she’d said.  I’d thought that a very odd warning from one beer lover to another and had no idea why she might have been boozing on the track anyway … until the funny fermented corn “beer” came out that is.  No Gracias.

The brewer?

Cliser’s Chicha pitch

After not too much further and a few Incan sites to give us a bit of a teaser, we arrived at the lunch spot.  Now as I’ve discovered in the past, trekking with a chef and sous chef definitely adds that extra something you’re looking for at the end of a long walk, and these guys were not going to disappoint.  Seated in the shade of the meal tent the porters had erected ahead of our arrival, we were served a delicious 3 course hot lunch.  Not half bad for the middle of no-where and a kitchen which pretty much consisted of a chopping board, a knife and a pot!

The first day was a pretty light one, so after just a couple more hours beyond the fabulous lunch break, we made one last climb before arriving at the evening camp.  Our tents and bags were all meticulously set up awaiting our arrival.  Kel I and looked at each other and immediately knew what to do.  Barely exchanging a word we proceeded to roll out the sleeping bags, change into the night clothes, commence beauty workshop (not forgetting the baby powder for the feet of course), don the ugg boots, put a headlamp around the neck in preparation, grab the uno cards and head to the tea tent.  Practice makes perfect – and we may have done this once or twice before.

The tea tent even had the surprise bonuses of popcorn and crackers to accompany the tea!  In between tea and dinner, we had just enough time for the longest game of Uno ever – the stakes were high though, for it had been declared that the winner should receive the prestigious honour of sleeping with the sexy llama for the night.  Alan was victorious in the end, and Jef nervously handed over his llama.  I can’t remember exactly what dinner was – other than that it was again very tasty – and after spending a few moments marveling at the teabag that Cliser had magically transformed into a football jersey, it was time to clear out of there and head to bed (we felt bad that the hardworking porters were waiting for us to clear out before they could use the tent, and bed was the warmest place for us to be as well in any event).  I lay there happily reading my kindle whilst Kel fidgeted with her radio – visibly jealous that the 6kg packing limit (3 of which was taken up by the sleeping bags we needed to hire) had forced her to leave her book behind.  Honestly, who camps without a book?

Tea bag art

Warnings about day 2 had come in from far and wide.  It seemed to be the unanimous opinion of all who had walked before us that this was the toughest day, so we were under no illusions as to what we might be up against when our human alarm clock made his appearance the next morning.  But when we were woken (at 5:30am) to a the sight of a very chirpy Cliser literally bouncing into our tent “doorway” offering room service (hot Coca tea to help entice us out of our snug sleeping bags) we couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm and proceeded to unzip from our cocoons and do the freezing tent dance to put our trekking gear back on.   After porridge (yep, my most dreaded part of the Kokoda mornings reared its ugly head again…. Can’t stand the stuff but knew I had to get the fuel into me) and then pancakes (had no idea these were coming!!) and a bit of faffing about, we set off on our climb.  Today we needed to get from our camp at 3000m, up through dead woman’s pass at 4215m and back down another 800m or so – and all before lunch.  Snickers: check, Snakes: check; Electrolyte drink: check.  Good to go.

Fresh and prepped for a big day at the start of day 2

As old hands at the Altitude game now (and electing to do the trip without the assistance of the Diamox this time) we started off at a slow and steady pace –with Kel warning a few of the other altitude virgins that they might be well placed to do the same.  This very quickly split our group in two – the 3 fit young speed demons at the front and the rest of us bringing up the rear.  It had been agreed that everyone should walk at their own pace anyway though, and weather permitting, the only place anyone needed to wait was at the top – so we could get a family photo before the descent.  And so began the march – one foot in front of the other, focussing on keeping the breathing under control.  I was feeling pretty good and kept finding myself a bit ahead of the pack, but didn’t actually want to leave people behind (or tackle the mountain by myself for that matter), so would pause every 5 minutes or so to let them catch up and/or attempt to muster up some encouragement by telling them lies about how they were nearly there.  I was also pretty keen to keep people at least moving whilst the sun wasn’t as strong – as the only thing worse than a steep ascent in altitude, is a hot steep ascent in altitude.

Steps galore

 

At least this part was nice and shady

We got a couple of shaded hours through the forest in, and then out came the sun.  It was hot.  Damn hot.  Then we looked up into the heavens and thought we could see the finish line in the distance – it sure looked like a pass anyway.  Then who should come running up beside us but Cliser, panting away in a desperate bid to reach the front runners having given them a MASSIVE head start.  A perfect opportunity to get confirmation that it was in fact the finish line… only we wished we hadn’t asked when he shook his head and said “halfway mark” with a smile.   Oh well.  Back to plan A – one foot in front of the other, look up, sip water, take photo, eat lolly… and repeat.

Are we nearly there yet?

Up and up and up we went.  I stayed with the pack for the vast majority of it, only breaking away when the finish line was within spitting distance, as I was still feeling pretty good by that stage and really just couldn’t wait to get there and take my pack off and sit down for a bit.  The view from the top was even more breathtaking than the altitude.   I only had about 30 minutes to wait until the last of the family made it (much less than the 2 hours in the cold that speedster Jason had endured) and after the congratulations were passed around, we took a few money shots and began the climb down.

Family photo – not sure what Alan and Sarah are doing

Voila

Getting some more altitude at the highest point on the trail

 

Down we go

 

Kel and I sped off like women on a mission – eager to feel the increased oxygen levels in our lungs as fast as we possibly could.  At times the steepness was challenging, but nothing quite compares to the energy levels you feel on the descent from altitude – not to mention the fact lunch was calling.  We got there in good time, were given a cordial greeting (literally) and sat down to admire the stunning view of the valley before us.

The other exciting fact was that we were actually finished for the day, so it was ugg boot time!  Once everyone else had arrived, we sat down to another yummy lunch, before retiring to our tents for the afternoon.  It was bloody cold and short of stealing clothes off other people’s backs, that was the only place we knew we were going to be warm.  I did some more reading, whilst Kel did some more frustrated radio listening (and she might have snuck a little nap in there too).  We made sure we were up again in time for tea and Uno hour though – and it was a good thing we did, as I somehow pulled off a hat-trick of Uno victories and was duly rewarded with a night with the sexy llama.  Our evening meal was again enhanced by story time with Wayne (the man definitely tells a good story) and after a few more teabag football jerseys were constructed it was time (again) to hit the tents.

Day 3 had been sold as the beautiful day.  Mostly downhill, multiple Inca sites, a beautiful cloud forest…. It all sounded like bliss to be honest.  We must have only been going about 5 minutes though when the climb began.  And it was a big one.  That wasn’t in the brochure!  We huffed and puffed our way up to the first Inca site and gratefully took a seat on the wall whilst Angel delivered the history lesson.  Some fascinating facts about the speed of communications (which were of course delivered in a human relay) back in the day.  We should really stop complaining about our gradual climb.

We continued up a little further until we got to the point where we were assured it was the last of the uphill, and then down we went – entertained by a sudden burst of Ricky Martin from Cliser at the front – with Kel, Jef and Sarah chipping in some great harmonies.  It was some pretty serious downhill though and I was certainly pleased to have spent the $5 hiring a walking pole to save my knees.After about an hour of sing-alongs and good banter, we arrived at another impressive Inca site and learnt a bit more about their way of life – this time the talk was focused on the rituals and offerings to Pachamama (Mother Earth).

Inca selfie

The track seemed to get easier from that point (which interestingly resulted in the group being super spread out) and I accidentally ended up out of sight of much of the group, but did actually really enjoy the hour or so of walking in solitude that followed.  A great opportunity for reflection and just taking in all the beauty of what was around me.

Until suddenly I was awoken from my daydreaming by an alpaca attack!! Ok, maybe not quite an attack, but when you’re alone on a super narrow path that drops away to a sheer cliff, seeing 2 alpacas and a llama coming towards you around the bend is quite the confronting sight.  I did my best to edge up against the mountain side and let them pass.  My heart was beating pretty fast when they slowed to a stop right beside me.  Whilst I know they’re not a predatory animal towards humans, I also knew that they were bigger than me and that I was severely outnumbered and in a compromised position on a cliff-face.  After what seemed like an eternity, they started on their way again, pausing to turn and spit at me before jogging off into the distance.  Nice.

When Alpacas attack

The scenery continued to amaze and the day 3 lunch spot was fittingly perched upon the most beautiful ridge with magnificent sweeping valleys in every direction.  As we polished off another great lunch, Angel announced that the chef had a surprise for us.  He’d baked us a sexy llama cake!! The decoration was impeccable, the taste out of this world, and the knowledge that he’d done this in his saucepan at over 3000m for us was priceless.

Full of cake euphoria we continued our descent towards camp.   It was beautiful and after almost a solid 4 hours of downhill (including a truckload of steps for people with long legs and tiny feet), we arrived shattered at our 3^rd and final campsite – and only just before nightfall.

    

Kel and I knew we had to get our skates on as we’d been assigned the dubious honour of “President” and “Vice President” of Inca trail tipping and that was all going to culminate tonight.  Andres had singled out the assertive bankers for the task – as it was no easy one.  First step was collecting the right amount of cash from everyone in the group in the smallest denominations possible.  Next we had to apply a complex formula to divvy it up between 24 porters, a head porter, an assistant chef, head chef, assistant guide and chief guide… and no, not all are created equal.  Then we had to sort it all into little bundles labelled by a tiny paper wrap so we wouldn’t get confused when dishing it out.  Got it done just in the knick of time too – the call came that dinner was being served.

At the conclusion of dinner, Angel started his spiel…. The one that talks about what a great time it’s been and thank you thank you yada yada yada and ends in us taking out our wallets.  Only thing was he produced a big lunchbox and suggested we each put something in there (that he’d then divvy up between everyone).  Clearly he’d not met a group as well prepped as us before, but we weren’t going to have a bar of that communal tip suggestion with all the effort we’d put in!  Instead we requested he call up all the staff so we could do a presentation of our own.  As tipping vice president (and the group member with the best Spanish), I stepped forward to make the speech to the porters and chefs – (hopefully) thanking them for everything from carrying our heavy bags, to setting up our tents, to cooking the delicious meals to dishing out the buckets of hot water… I’m not sure how much of it came out right, but to even attempt to make a speech in Spanish to a group of 40 people was quite a proud moment for me.   At the conclusion of which, they all formed an orderly queue and our whole group were able to personally shake hands with a gracias and a tip to a few porters each.  It all came together very nicely actually.  As the crowd dispersed, Angel and Cliser thought it was bed time…. But Kel had a few words to say to them (and their tips to give out) first.  Luckily they’re both fluent English speakers, because Kel’s speeches are always heartfelt and up with the best of them – and this one didn’t disappoint.  Good job el presidente.  Now we can go to bed.

Day 4: Machu Picchu day.  Wake up time: 3am.  Oh how I love mornings.  Couldn’t complain too much though as they’d even gone to the effort of setting up the breakfast tent – because who doesn’t need breakky at 3??  The plan for the day was to walk the 15 minutes down to the checkpoint and hopefully get there early enough to get the seats – because we were going to be waiting there with hundreds of others until it opened at 5:30am after which it would be at least another hour until we reached the sun gate and caught our first glimpse of Machu Picchu. Whilst this might seem like borderline insanity, the reason behind it was that there are only 2 trains per day available to the porters… one at 5am, the other at 9:30pm… and there was no way we wanted our porters to be stuck waiting around until the evening because they weren’t able to pack up the camp and get away in time for the early train.  Besides, the adrenaline of the finish line and the lure of Machu Picchu was sufficient to keep us chirpy at that ungodly hour anyway.

In the lead-up to the gates opening, we were told stories about a woman who had died because she’d fallen off the edge and been attacked by snakes – moral of the story (besides the fact that we possibly shouldn’t have dismissed the other guide’s fear of the tiny snake on the trail the day before), was that we weren’t meant to attempt to run to the sun gate – and if anyone was trying to pass us, we should let them do so – but they should be cliff-side rather than us.  Once it was open a few of us did still try to set off at a reasonable walking pace – despite the clouds, there was a small chance we might get to see the sun rise over MP if we got there in time – but there was also a large chunk of the group who were not enjoying the trekking by headlamp and kept yelling out for us to slow down.  Poor Cliser who was leading the way, was being yelled at to wait up from behind, whilst also getting instructions from Angel via the radio not to stop.  In the end he opted to let Jason dash ahead (and become our sun rise contender on the group’s behalf), and Cliser and I maintained a steady pace whilst having a great chat at the front with the bulk of the group not too far behind.

I guess I’d had in my mind that this was the super easy day because it was so short, but the walk was actually a little more challenging than expected.   Part of it no doubt due to the extra concentration required to walk by torch light, but the climax was probably when we arrived at the wall known as the “Gringo Killer”… a set of “steps” that were so narrow and so steep that they looked more like a rock-climbing wall.  Cliser came to my rescue though (the advantages of being up the front), offering to take my pole and suggesting it would be much easier to tackle using my hands.  Boy was he right.  Up I scrambled on all fours like a monkey, leaving at least 15 gringos in my wake.  I’d probably still be there now had I attempted to climb it upright!  So on we continued, with anticipation building by the minute… surely we were nearly there.  And then I saw a gate-like structure… “is that it?” I excitedly asked… he nodded in reply, I skipped ahead – eager to catch my first glimpse.  And there it was.  An incredible Inca city unfolding in the mountains before me.  Just magic.  Unfortunately there was a bit of cloud and mist about, but you could still see it proudly standing there.

The magic first glimpse

I took a moment to soak it all in before heading over to Jason to share the joy.  We’d made it, and what a reward it was.  It was then a pretty awesome experience to stand and face the other way – and watch the reactions of our group as they arrived at the gate one by one.  Each creating a memory that will last a lifetime.  We took our photos and then set off again – it was about another 40 minutes of slippery walking until we’d actually be at Macchu Picchu (and reunited with the rest of our friends who hadn’t done the Inca trail).

Machu Picchu in all its glory

The Sexy llamas (look closely for the amazing photo bomb too)

It was smiles and hugs all round when we got to the bottom.  Great to see the non-Inca trailers again – and I’m sure we totally stunk, but they didn’t even flinch nor utter a word about it when we embraced.  And then the next priority – El bano! A real toilet and everything.  We then chilled for about 20 minutes hoping the rain would pass (and jealously watching on as those who’d thought to order pizzas gobbled them up) before putting our packs in a locker (that felt good) and setting off on our tour of MP itself.  Such magnificent architecture perched within the mountain.

Those Incas had thought of everything – from the temples to mark the solstice, to the aqueducts to transport the water, to the gully within the structure that was placed exactly over the fault line (thereby making the entire complex able to resist earthquakes).. In many respects these guys were way ahead of us – and yet it was hundreds and hundreds of years ago.  Just remarkable.  The sun even came out for us too.  We had a good couple of hours of exploration and reflection time before it was time to say goodbye and board the bus to the lunch that awaited us in Aguas Calientes.

My pork ribs were to die for (and we thought we almost might when the bus screeched around the hairy corners to get there) and the beverage went down a treat too.  We even had another delicious cake – this time to celebrate Mark’s upcoming 60^th birthday.  Chocolate on chocolate – good work Andres!  All that remained of the adventure was the long train and bus ride back to Cusco – the perfect opportunity for a well-earned nap.