Everything you wanted to know about the Inca Trail but were too afraid to ask

Walking the four day Inca Trail, even ignoring the fact that you arrive into the stunning Machu Picchu, must surely be one of the great walks this planet has to offer.

Maybe that is euphoria speaking, as I have just returned to the hotel and had my first warm shower in four days, but I don't think so. The 42km route climbs through some stunning Andean scenery, tropical forests and mountain passes before dropping down to the ruins of the old Inca settlement at Machu Picchu.

Tempted? Before you make up your mind please permit me to share some of the things that I have learned....

The High Life

Most of the trek takes place at a seriously high altitude, in comparison to where most people live anyway. For those that spend their lives at or near sea level just moderate exercise at these heights is.... well let's say interesting. 

The Inca Trail never drops below 2,430m above sea level and that is only on the last day. Most of the route is above 3,000m and the highest point is a lung-busting 4,215m. I found that walking uphill at these heights made me feel like an asthmatic ant with a particularly heavy bag of shopping.

The only way to deal with it, besides allowing yourself a few days to acclimatise before putting on your walking boots, is to take it easy and listen to your body. The last few steps to the top of the route I was reduced to walking a few steps and then resting. Frustratingly, the top never seemed to get any closer despite shouts of encouragement from my fellow trekkers.

 

At 4,215m this is a high point of the trip.... literally!

Step Class

Eddie Cochran got it seriously wrong when he suggested that there were three steps to heaven. I lost count after the first few hours on the first day of just how many steps I had climbed. Certainly more than three and I was nowhere near heaven at this point. The Incas certainly liked their steps and I you don't then this hike is not for you. Steps up and steps down, many at a near vertiginous angle. Looking down at some of these flights of stairs, I wondered to myself exactly where I would stop if I tripped. I didn't like the answer I gave to myself.

 

One of the less steep sections

 

These go on for over two hours whilst descending 1,000m

Stick and Stones....well mostly Stones

And when there weren't steps to negotiate, the majority of the path surface was covered in stones. All different sizes and at different angles. The Incas could build amazingly straight walls but their path making skills left something to be desired. Maybe they should have invested in some Yorkstone paving?

The unevenness of the surface wouldn't be a problem except for the precipitous drops at the side of the path. Jutting rocks and awkward angles are just waiting to catch out the unsuspecting hiker.....

 

Narrow ledge with drop just out of shot.....but it's there!

Travel Light

Most people, and I was no exception, undertake the journey as part of an organised group. Whilst the porters carry most of the load, you still need to carry the essentials for a day of mountainous hiking; warm clothing, waterproofs etc. Add to this two litres of water, essential to keep altitude sickness at bay, and the weight of the pack soon adds up. Think twice before chucking in a make-up bag or that 'essential' guidebook to Peru. Every ounce counts.

Supermen aka The Porters

And whilst we are in the subject of loads, a mention has to go to the Porters. These guys are amazing. Not only do they carry the tents, mattresses, sleeping bags and spare clothing of the trekkers, they also carry four days worth of food, seats, marquees, plates, cutlery, napkins and even table cloths. Impressive enough, but then consider that they run ahead to make sure everything is set up for your arrival at the lunch stops and the campsite at the end of each day. 

The applause they all give when you arrive at each resting point seems a little misplaced and I couldn't help but applaud back at the sheer amount of effort they had put in. These guys really are superhuman. The only thing missing were capes. 

Which brings me onto the sensitive subject of tipping. Whatever value you decide to put on their efforts, and it is a personal choice, just remember that they do this on a minimum wage. Each Porter receives 200 Peruvian Soles for the four day trip, or to put it in an easier perspective, around £20. Feeling generous? You should be!

 

The whole team

The Magic Tent

Ahhh, the Magic Tent. You will develop a love-hate relationship with this piece of camping equipment for  'Magic Tent' is the affectionate name give to the toilet tent. Well I say toilet, but you are faced with when unzipping the door, other than a rather fruity aroma, is two buckets. One for liquid and the other for more solid deposits. Admittedly they do both have seats, but the effect is still the same; you pee or poo into a bucket. 

The morning ritual, at least for me, was always approached with some trepidation. Not knowing what to expect when the door was unzipped and the respective lids lifted, and the sheer delight when it became apparent that you were the first to christen the receptacles. It's the small things in life. Learning to take a two stage approach to evacuations took some getting used too - it was important not to mix liquids and solids - and unnecessary prolonged the time spent in the Magic Tent. This was not a place to linger so banish any thoughts of getting through another chapter of your book or finishing another level of Candy Crush. Get in and get out. As quickly as possible.

Rooms with a View

An honourable mention has to go to the campsites. They are spectacular. Not in terms of facilities - there aren't any - but in terms of their locations. Being perched high up in the mountains at 3,000m whilst watching the sun set is a magical experience. When it isn't raining that is. 

The campsites at Paq'aymayo and Winayhuayna are something to behold. What they lack in physical space, they more than make up for in view. Just be careful when you exit your tent - the narrow ledges that are used for the camping ground are not very forgiving for the unwary. Just as well that there are no bars or shops selling alcohol.

 

View from the camping ledge at Winayhuayna

Early to Bed, Early to Rise

If anyone is thinking about catching up on sleep whilst trekking, this is not the route for you. For most of the mornings were were up and hiking by 7:00am whilst the Porters dismantled the campsite. This was not a problem as, mainly due to the lack of daylight and sheer exhaustion from the previous day, we were tucked up in our sleeping bags by 7:00pm. 

The last day however, the final approach to Machu Picchu, we were woken at 3:30am and on the trail by 5:30am. Hardly a restful holiday. 

The early mornings were made somewhat easier by being served coca tea in bed. Well in sleeping bags anyway. This was usually followed by a bowl of hot water to wash away the cobwebs. Coca tea is an essential part of the day. Not only does it contain a fair helping of caffeine, it also allegedly wards off altitude sickness. Does it? Well I drank plenty of it and was absolutely fine so maybe there is some truth in it. And yes, coca tea uses coca leaves, the exact same ingredient to cocaine, albeit in much higher concentrations. 

Coca is used in a whole range of products and I munched my way through several packets of coca toffees. Purely for the prevention of altitude sickness, honest.

Guiding Lights

Each trekking party, whether it's part of an organised group or not, must have an official guide for the duration of the trip. Not only will these keep you from getting into grief, they are also an essential source of information. Our guide, Victor, was on hand to answer any question, no matter how trivial or obvious, and helped make the kilometres tick by.

He was also on hand to help one of our group when he got serious altitude sickness. He went a funny shade of blue, developed a crushing headache and had to lie on the ground whilst the worst of the symptoms passed. Victor, and his assistant guide Katy, nursed him back to health over the course of the day and managed to get him to camp that night in one piece, shaken from the experience maybe but ready to tackle the next day.

Road to Ruin

One of the most amazing things about the trail is that every couple of hours there is another Inca settlement to enjoy. Rain or shine. These places never fail to amaze as the sheer majesty of these hillside structures leave a permanent impression. Yes they may not be as old as Roman settlements but what they lack in age they make up in sheer ingenuity.

Questions circle; why here? How did they transport the store? How did they plan the site? I know that is the engineer in me talking but these mountain settlements are wonderous. 

 

Inca ruins at Winaywayna

Machu Picchu

At last, I hear you wonder. Although the end game of this whole adventure are the magnificent ruins of Machu Picchu, it is the journey that's the most important. Yes, a cliche maybe, but it's true. 

But having said that, nothing quite prepares you for the first sight of this place. We arrived at the Sun Gate at around 6:30am and there, laid out before us was the once great city of Machu Picchu. Jaws dropped and tears welled up, partly because of the exertion that had been expended over the last few days but mostly because of the awesome sight. There is no other word that would be appropriate.

Luckily, despite it being the wet season, it was a clear morning and we could see the whole of Machu Picchu and beyond it the Andes Mountains and Amazon rainforest. Spectacular and frightening drops were visible on each side of the settlement with the river and rail line far below.

Although we were there early, visitors who had opted to get the bus from Machu Picchu town were already filing through the entrance gates. It was hard not to view them with some disdain for they hadn't struggled over the mountain passes and fought altitude sickness. Ah well, each to their own.

Whichever mode of transportation you decide to take, and from wherever you have travelled, the journey is worth it and I can't think of another historical site that invoked the same emotion. Stonehenge perhaps or maybe Hadrian's Wall. 

 

The Inca settlement of Machu Picchu 

 

Seriously impressive stonework. 

The End of the Line

Finally, an honourable mention has to go to Machu Picchu town. It is overshadowed, both physically and reputationally by the ruins above, but it is well worth spending a few hours here before hearing back to Cusco. It is reminiscent of a Swiss alpine village, such as Murren or Wengen, and is a great place to relax and mull over the achievements of the past few days whilst enjoying a drink and a hot meal. Just try and get a seat somewhere near an open window as you may put fellow diners off their food with your personal aroma!

From here, trains run back up the valley to Cusco over a relaxing four hour journey. Sit back and enjoy the ride. 

 

The only thing missing is the sound of cow bells

So there you have it. Still tempted to give it a go? You should be. Despite the basic facilities, altitude early mornings and exhaustion you will experience it is still a worthwhile trip and something that I won't forget in a hurry. 

You will meet some interesting people along the way, see fabulous views (even in the rain) and explore magnificent Inca ruins, marvelling at their ingenuity and skill.

Altitude with Attitude

Situated in the Andes mountain range at an altitude of 3400m, the city of Cusco is not to be messed with. It is a truly city with altitude. To put that in perspective it is nearly three and a half times the height of Sca Fell Pike, England's highest hill, or to use a more common reference point, 66 times the height of Nelson's Column.

And you can certainly feel it. From the moment you disembark from the aeroplane doors, walk across the Tarmac and hit the first set of stairs, you can feel your heart pumping as it desperately tries to get what little oxygen there is into the blood stream. A little while longer and dehydration sets in, a background headache arrives followed by irritability and fatigue. Before anyone makes a sarcastic comment, I freely acknowledge that it didn't take being at altitude for some of those symptoms to appear!  The weirdest symptom I have experienced so far is waking during the night, gasping for air as if the oxygen has been sucked out of the room by a malevolent inn keeper.

The best way to deal with it is to drink plenty of water, take it easy for the first few days and let the body make the necessary adjustments. If it doesn't then  High Altitude Pulmonary Edema or High Altitude Cerebral Edema can develop. Neither of which are pleasant and can be fatal. Nice.

Luckily we have a few days before setting off on the four-day trek along the Inca Trail which eventually tops out at around 4200m above sea level. Yes even more Sca Fells and another dozen or so Nelson's!

After strolling around this stunning city and admiring the precision of the Inca engineering, we met back in the hotel for a team briefing. As well as representation from UK/NZ we will also be joined by Kiwis, Americans and Aussies. I had hoped that we would be the most pepared for the trip, having completed several multi-day hikes previously, but the Aussies seemed to know what they were talking about..... that was until one of them asked if they could take a hot water bottle! I can only assume that they would take it empty and have it filled every night but I am beginning to wonder. Apparently they were concerned that, with forecast night-time temperatures dropping to 8 degrees, it might be too cold. I make that 1-0 to the UK/NZ contingent.

Since the hottie revelation, we have been busy packing our bags and deciding which items we will carry and what to give to the porters. It is going to be quite a team; two guides, two cooks, fifteen porters and eleven.... well what would you call us? Clients sounds too business like but travellers sounds a bit Phileas Fogg. Either way, it 

is going to take a lot of people to get us from the start to the Inca ruins at Machu Picchu.

The forecast is not looking great, this is the rainy season after all, but it'll be a great experience nonetheless and worthy of a blog or too I'm sure when we get back - I'm pretty certain that there will be no internet reception on the trail. 

Well I'd better sign off and finish my packing as I've got to whittle down my undies just a couple of pairs and decide which of my least dirty t-shirts to take. Shouldn't be too hard but I'm already feeling sorry for the people who will share our return bus......

 

End of Part One

So that's it, we're leaving The Galápagos Islands and bound once again for Quito. The next stage is the Inca Trail Hike. But that is a few days away.

After seeing such fabulous animals from the first few steps on these amazing islands, it would've been very easy for the trip to reach an anti-climax. For example, how on earth do you top swimming with turtles, or gazing at Marine Iguanas? With giant tortoises, obviously.

We spent yesterday watching in awe as these wild animals went about their daily business, albeit at a glacial pace. They cover about one mile every day in their 25 mile trip from the coastal plains to the mountains. It truly is a marathon not a sprint for them. 

Weighing in at up to 320kg, it is no surprise that they aren't galavanting around. Not to mention that they live for nearly 150 years. As I gazed into the eyes of a younger one of these animals, a mere 30 years old, I wondered what it would experience in their lifetime. A humbling experience.

And that may have been that, except today we took a short break on the way to the airport and an owl flew to a nearby branch to check us out. Apparently it will have been on the hunt for food, but found a group of brightly dressed humans more interesting. For a while at least.

It has been a fantastic experience, in no small part because of our guide Jose De La Cruz. No question was too dumb and no problem too big. Add to that is wide repertoire of animal calls, mating dances and local knowledge. 

So after a (too) brief stop in Quito, we will be one the move once again to catch a 4:10am flight to Lima. Hardly worth going to bed really. Maybe I could spend the time sifting through the 400 or so photographs I have taken.....

 

"Are you looking at me?"

 

Jose demonstrates how a human would look with a 50kg shell.....

Christmas Eve on the Equator

I never thought I would write this, but this Christmas Eve blog comes from the Equator. Or to be more precise, the Galápagos Islands. Or to be even more precise, Isabela.

Of all of the Christmas Eves, this has the be the most unique. Forgetting that we spent the morning  climbing up a volcano, or the late afternoon drinking in a beach bar after walking along the sand looking at the basking Iguanas, it was still unique.

But why? Well because we got to experience how another culture celebrates the Christmas period. I had foolishly assumed that everybody celebrated the same way. Ok, I wasn't expecting Southern America to start boiling up Brussels at midday on Christmas Eve, ready for the festivities the next day but I least thought they would celebrate the same day.

Instead, Christmas Eve is the big day and it is a time to  spend with families. As we walked to the restaurant for diner, after drinking beer at a beach bar (oh wait, did I mention that already?) it was great to see people out in the street walking to family and neighbours houses with plates of food and join in the festivities. 

Although we had foolishly left our Santa hats at home, we did our best by sitting in a local restaurant and enjoying a meal of rice, pork, salad and baked potatoo. Not exactly roast turkey and stuffing but delicious nonetheless.

And what's weird, despite having been in the Southern Hemisphere for the last few Christmasses, this is the closest we have felt to Christmas since we left the UK. It's certainly not the weather, nor is it being with friends and family, so it must be the light. On the equator, every day is pretty much the same; there are no seasons to speak of, the temperature is pretty much the same, and the sunrise and sunset never changes. Sunrise is at 6am and the sunset is at 6pm. Day in, day out. 

And because of this relatively early curfew, Christmas lights are everywhere. And boy do they go to town. Not for them tasteful decorations, instead every house has a nativity scene. Outside and front and centre. Even more, why stop at just lights? How about some music and, if a space allows, a screen showing scene from and aquarium? Nice!

The downside is that tomorrow will be a normal working day. Well as normal as it gets when we will be spending the morning kayaking around the bay before jumping on a speedboat to go to the next island. 

Yes I realise that it is ridiculous but is it too much to ask for Brussel Sprouts for lunch?

 

Swimming with Sharks

I was in two minds over the title of this blog entry. My original title was going to be 'Boobie Watching' but I was concerned that it would be too smutty and might attract the wrong sort of reader. It would be great for my site traffic though! In the end I went for the less titular title, although strictly speaking it is not very accurate as there was only one shark, and not a very big one at that. But it still counts in my book.

Yesterday we were taken from the dock at San Cristobel and travelled for two hours to Kicker Rock. On the way we stopped to watch a Boobie colony - stop your laughing at the back and pay attention - and marvelled at these blue-footed birds. Unfortunately we didn't get to see the Boobie dance - stop it - but it was great to finally see thee birds in the flesh after seeing them on documentaries for years.

After this brief stop, it was off to Kicker Rock. Jumping off backwards into the deep ocean as waves crash against the rocks is not something you do every day, thank God, but necessary if you want to exit the boat with any sort of dignity. Wearing flippers takes some practice and on land, or in a boat, they are somewhat cumbersome. Once on the water, however, they become extremely useful.

I have never swam in such deep water - no chance of touching the bottom here - but it makes for an exhilarating trip. The sheer amount of sea life on display was breathtaking as fish and over sea animals emerged from the depths to feed on the algae that was attached to the rocks. Even sharks! Or rather a shark, joined in the feast.

Not to be outdone, sea lions joined in, giving me the fright of my life as it swam past me. I'm no biologist but I'm sure that was a smirk on its face! 

For some, being in the ocean was a respite from the boat as the bobbing motion whilst we had gotten ready was too much for them, or more accurately their stomachs. That didn't stop some people emptying the contents as we swam around the rock, if you know what I mean. Still, I guess the additional food in the water may have helped attract more wildlife!

Today we transfer four hours by speed boat to Isabella, another Galapogean island with a whole different set of animals to encounter. Can't wait. But for now, Boobies and Sharks will do for me.....

 

Top of the World

If there isn't an unwritten rule about travelling then there ought to be. This is important so maybe someone should just write it down. I appreciate that that would make it a written rule, but hey, some things just need to be formalised.

You see, the thing is, that we have recently travelled from New Zealand to Ecuador and by my reckoning we have spent longer wandering around airports that we have actually spent in the air. Surely that can't be right? I know this is the price of travelling but if I see one more Duty Free shop or someone promising the best deal on the iPhone6 I'm going to pop. Besides, it's simply not possible. They can't all be the best deal. And while we're on the subject of airports, can somebody please get some common rules on when you can and can't take water on board. It's not big and it's not clever to confiscate water in the boarding queue. And neither does it look cool swilling down a two litre bottle of carbonated water. And it certainly doesn't feel good an hour or so later.

Anyway, I've digressed but needed to get that off my chest and am feeling much better now.

So we have finally arrived in Quito, just ten calendar hours after leaving home. The actually tally is somewhere nearer 28 hours. I never will get used to crossing the international date line, or as us travellers prefer to call it, the twilight zone. The zone where days miraculously disappear and reappear.

Because if the aforementioned time spent in airports, we arrived just as the sun was about to come up. The delights of Quito awaited, or at least they would once we'd had a shower and some sleep. It's ironic that after spending all that time sat around doing nothing the first thing one wants to do is have rest. But it was either rest or risk exploding at a random stranger and create an international situation.

Thankfully check-in was quick and within minutes we were showered and slumped on the bed. It was a most welcome and much needed rest and we slept solidly until noon. Time to explore.

Stepping out of the cool and calm of the hotel into the middle of a bustling Quito day felt like we'd stepped into the middle of a movie scene and a total contrast to our arrival in the small hours of the morning. Where did all these people come from? A Quito day was in full swing; cars were travelling in all directions, shop owners hustled in an attempt to sell their wares, conversations excitedly unfolded on street corners and the smell of sweet food hung in the mountain air.

Ahh, the mountain air. It was hard to believe that Quito was over 2,800m above sea level. Nearly 3km higher that Auckland. Luckily there were two reminders. First, there was the fact that just walking around became difficult and any incline had us gasping for air. Secondly, there was the back drop. Quito is surrounded by mountain peaks. Just a glance up the street confirmed the mountainous nature of this fascinating town. Despite it being a sunny day,, clouds spilled off the mountain tops and down the slopes into Quito. It was like nothing I'd seen before: Well not in a city anyway. Usually at this altitude we'd be dressed in hiking gear and carrying a rucksack, not wandering around busy street, wearing sandals and looking for a place to buy lunch.

Thankfully we shuffled enough to find a local restaurant and get some much needed lunch. Or was that breakfast? It didn't really matter because it was delicious... and cheap. Amazingly cheap.

We just had time for a quick visit to a supermarket to buy some essentials (water and biscuits) before heading back to the calm of the hotel. What a journey, and this was only the first day. Later we would meet our tour guide and the rest of our fellow travellers. 

If the rest of the trip was as rewarding as these first few hours then it would've been worth it, unwritten rule or not.

 

Uncomfort Zone

It may be news to some people, but I consider myself to be a fairly adventurous chap. I do. Even if you put aside the fact that I upped sticks and went to live on the other side of the globe, I still have plenty of examples of derring do.

For example, I'm not afraid to try new things on a menu and I even once changed the standard toppings on a pizza. It was a risk but it worked out well.

Then there was the time that I left the house without actually checking that I had closed all of the windows and turned off the gas. Living in the edge that one.

Yes, if ever a challenge presents itself, I'm usually first in the queue to sign up and tackle it straight on. As long as success is guaranteed of course. And I have someone with me in case things get a bit sticky.

The exception to that rule is holidays. I like a nice adventurous holiday as much as the next person as long as there is no unpredictable danger. Canoing down a river for three days? Count me in. Hiking in the alps? Sure thing. Mountaineering in the Scottish mountains in winter? Where do I sign. Adventurous stuff, I'm sure you'll agree, but the risks as easy to identify and deal with. 

With all of this experience you may be a little surprised to hear that I am more than a bit worried about our choice of destination for the Christmas holidays this year. In a couple of hours we will be heading off to South America. Let me repeat that. South. America. Yup, in a little over 11 hours we will touch down in Chile and then transfer to a flight to take us to Ecuador. For a Northern European, this is so far out of my comfort zone that no amount of blankets and alcohol is going to get me back to a safe place.l, mentally speaking that is. I could only been less comfortable if I'd decide to stick forks in my thighs for the duration of the trip. 

I blame TV. For a kid from Northern Europe growing up in the 70s, the main source of knowledge about the big world was beamed into a little box in the corner of the room. And as any telly addict will tell you, the box never lied and everything was taken at face value. So it is no surprise that my knowledge of South America is somewhat limited and more than a bit skewed.

When I think about that continent I can't help but get it mixed up with the portrayal of characters from cop shows and bad B-movies. They were never friendly, usually untrustworthy and the source of the malaise of the main character who was, of course, morally upstanding and the righter of wrongs. Or am I thinking about Mexico? My geography is a bit sketchy.

The only other image I have when thinking about our current destination is of course football. Or soccer if you prefer. And boy do they like their soccer in South America. Again, after the hand of Maradona especially, they're not to be trusted and certainly don't play football with a straight bat. Or maybe it's because they are much better than us? 

Yes I totally realise that this somewhat blinkered view makes me ever so slightly rascist. It can't be helped. Like I say, I blame television. But at least I recognise it and surely that is the first step to redemption? If I get one thing out of this trip, other than to see some real life blue-footed boobies, is the realignment of my prejudices then it will have been a success. And one worth making.

Right, enough of this banter, check-in is open. Blue-footed boobies here I come.......