A journey to Machu Picchu

The decade since embarking on the Inca Trail has not diminished the memory in any way. It still remains ones of the most incredible experiences of my life.

I have always wanted to trek to the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu. For me this was definitely about the journey AND the destination. I wanted to experience the wonder of the Andes and not just catch the train to the final destination, and I am so glad I did!

My adventure buddy Mandy and I arrived in Cusco after spending most of the night in Lima airport ahead of a 4am flight. This was probably the worst decision we made on this trip, not realising that lack of sleep and dehydration from those last pisco sours in Iquitos would make the altitude hit us so hard!

The good news is that we booked our classic 4-day, 3-night hike along the Inca Trail through Peru Treks and they required us to pay the balance in person at least 36 hours before the journey started. They do this so that you have some time to acclimate to being over 3,300 metres above sea level.

I only have great things to say about our experience with Peru Treks, from the amazing meals and support on the trail, to the hot tea bought to your tent on early wakeups, to the hired sleeping bags that get donated after 15 uses, to our amazing and knowledgeable guide – Luis. Peru Treks have a reputation for treating their porters – all local Peruvians – well which was a big part of why we decided to book with them.

 We explored Cusco, tried to hydrate, and had to cancel a day trip to the Inca archaeological site in nearby Ollantaytambo because while I was suffering faint nausea and headaches, Mandy was violently ill. Our helpful hostel called a doctor and we managed to get her well enough to start the trek after a day of relative rest.

Like any good trek, the days start early!

On our first day, we left Cusco around 5.30am and travelled by bus for about 2.5 hours to Urubamba for a snack, final bags check and for me, the purchase of a beautiful wooden walking stick that I carried around South America but couldn’t take home to Australia.

The trek starts at kilometre 82  - which is of course 82km from Cusco. Here we strapped on our packs, crossed a river and headed gently up to the Andes.

The first day is considered the easiest by many, but my mild altitude sickness was lingering and I found myself really struggling. Because of this, my memories of the day are actually a bit of a blur.

I do remember being amazed at our porters whizzing past and having our tents all set up and ready to go by the time we got to camp. These guys are pretty much athletes – carrying all that gear upskill is a skill!

My notes tell me we passed through some small villages on our way to camp and meandered through a fort. There are a lot of ruins along this trek and our guide was great at explaining what all the different uses were. This is where the adage about it being more about the journey than the destination really rang true for me. I had no idea there would be so much history to complement the incredible vistas along our hike.

I was very early to bed with little to no appetite on that first night. Between that and the exertion, I found myself using a spare luggage strap as a belt to keep my hiking pants up the next day!

Camp on the first night

The total distance of day one was 12km, so very achievable but did not prepare me at all for day two…

Most of day two is completely uphill and at times, the ascent can feel never ending. Towards the end of the day, you reach Dead Woman’s Pass which is 4,200 metres above sea level. To get here, Mandy and I had to take it really slowly and were definitely bringing up the back of the pack! We would take turns setting ourselves small goals. Like when we get to that big rock, we can have a rest.

It was challenging – we walked uphill for about seven hours straight - but rewarding and I practically bounded down to camp after reaching the top – loving the walk high, sleep low concept. I honestly have no idea how I had any energy left that day to make the 90-minute descent.

The name of the pass isn’t actually because us women all die trying to get there (which was in the back of my mind during some of the tougher moments), it was given the nickname because of the shape of the mountain resembling that of a dead woman lying on her back.

The landscape along the way was stunning and almost made up for all the out-of-breath moments. Mandy and I do not have a lot of photos from the top of the pass as we were just so shattered when we got there.

Because we were pretty slow today, the sun was already starting to set as we arrived into camp, tucked into a hearty and delicious three course meal and passed out in our tents.

The 12km of day two was definitely the hardest day and mentally, thinking about trekking 15km the next day after that brutal ascent was challenging.

The good news is, day three covers so much beautiful ground and there is quite a bit of descent, so you feel energised from all that extra oxygen!

We came across different scenery that we hadn’t previously seen so far, including cloud forests and terraced landscapes. The scale of the work the Incans did on this trek still blows my mind.

This day provided probably one of my favourite views ever. When climbing the hill to leave one of the ancient sites – Runkuracay – you look back and can truly see the scale of the ruins but also the breathtaking dominance of the surrounding mountains.

Runkuracay

We also travelled through an Inca tunnel carved into the rock, after which the stone path hugged the mountainside, with nothing but a steep valley on one side. I don’t have the words to convey how tiny this moment made me feel.

To finish the day, there are a lot of large stone stairs on the way down to camp. Me and my little legs were grateful for the walking stick and I know some of the older members of our group really felt this in their knees. It was really a great equaliser talking to everyone about our aches and pressure points because the journey is different for everyone.

Taking off the boots at night is an amazing feeling

Our campsite on night three overlooked a massive valley and we all enjoyed a beer soaking in that view knowing we had a very early start the next morning.

The porters bought us tea and breakfast before 4am and it was all systems go to pack down and get moving to reach the Sun Gate – the entrance to Machu Picchu.

There are several different tour companies all travelling basically the same journey so there is a queue of people waiting for the gates to open. Nothing bonds you like sitting in the dark in the dirt.

The idea is to reach the gate at sunrise and I have heard the view is spectacular but on our arrival after walking in the dark for about an hour and a half with head torches, we were surrounded completely by fog. It was like being inside damp soup!

While that was disappointing, we were lucky that the fog cleared as we walked down to the site itself and we got taken on a tour of Machu Picchu and then from 11am were able to explore freely on our own for a while before heading down to the town of Aguas Calientes and a late train and bus back to Cusco.

By mid-morning the site it bustling with day trippers so, against my legs better judgement, we decided to ascend once again to higher and more remote parts of Machu Picchu where there were no other tourists – namely the Inca Bridge.

Inca Bridge clinging to the cliff

This trail is built into the cliffs, dropping off the side of sheer mountainside. You can’t actually walk on the bridge for safety reasons but it is still a very impressive sight to see.

Back at the hostel, I washed away four days of dirt on my skin but the memories of this adventure will never fade.

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