A Long Walk to the Lost City

Day 1

Our alarm goes off at 3am. But I am already awake, in fact, I have been for hours because my case of Peruvian tummy seems to have become worse. I am feeling so ill that I am seriously doubting that I will be able to trek the Inca Trail at all. It is devastating for both Stef and I. We talk it over and decide that I probably have the two hour bus journey from Cusco to Kilometre 82 (where we pass the check point and the Inca Trail begins) to decide whether I am able to go through with it or not. If not, I will have to go back to Cusco on the bus.

Somehow, Stef helps me into my hiking gear and we make our way to join our guides Marcelino and Reynaldo and the other seven members of our group on the waiting bus.

Marcelino takes one look at my waxy complexion and hands me a bin liner for the journey. Everyone looks at me sympathetically. There's nothing like sharing your tummy troubles with a bus load of strangers to break the ice. My saviours come in the form of two Brazlian bombshell doctors called Gabriella and Leticia who are part of our group. They give me a handful of pills they have brought with them from Brazil. Marcelino our guide suggests I try herbal tea instead. I take the Brazilian pills. I don't know what they were but I crash out on the bus and by some mircale, when Stef shakes me awake at Kilometre 82 I feel so much better. And I decide I can do it.

As we get off the bus we finally meet our porters. There are 16 of them and they are busy loading everything we need for the trek - 4 days worth of food, camping gear, gas and tents into huge backpacks. We all lay our kit out on tarps on the ground and check we have everything we need for the trek including our passports to pass the checkpoints along the way. Only 500 people are permitted to start the Inca Trail each day and if you don't have your passport and permit, you can't start the trail.

Stef and I have paid extra for a porter to carry some of our gear so all we need to take is our day packs containing our water, cameras and waterproof clothes.

Once everyone is ready we are all feeling pretty excited - taking photos of each other beside the Kilometre 82 sign. We pass the checkpoint, get our passports stamped and then cross a perilous-looking bridge over the raging river beside the checkpoint and we are off. No turning back now - we are walking for 4 days.

Our group is a mixed bag - as well as us, there are two Irish lads called Andrew and Steven, the Brazilian bombshells, a Texan called Mark, a 20 year old Austrian called Cristo and Laura who is in her forties and from LA.

At first the trail slopes gently upwards and runs alongside the river and the railway line (these days it is possuble to take a train from Cusco to just outside Machu Picchu). As the train whistles past us Marcelino points and says 'That train is for the losers, we are the ones who are doing it the Inca way and making the pilgrimmage to Machu Picchu'. It is a pretty special moment. Especially because we all know there are going to tbe tough times ahead. The Inca Trail is 45km, which doesn't sound far given the trek is spread over 4 days. But it's not the distance that is the difficult part, it is the very steep uphill climbs and downhill climbs - we are soon to discover that flat isn't a word associated with the Inca Trail. Apart from the first hour or so of walking, the rest of the trail is either a gruelling uphill or downhill slog. 

We start at 9000ft and as the trail begins to climb upwards we see more of the Andes high above us - there are huge glaciers and soaring peaks. It is a glorious day, the sun is beating down and the trail winds past rivers and streams. 

Suddenly our guides shout 'porters!' and we all flatten ourselves against the mountain side as our team of porters thunder past. It is a humbling sight - each of them is carry a 25kg backpack and they run the trail, many in little more than a pair of flipflops. I can't help feeling a bit conscious of my brand new hiking boots. The porters always start walking after us but overtake and finish before us. The first time we see them they are all wearing red and we nickname them 'the Red Ninjas'.

The tough climb starts and by the time we reach our first lunch stop we are all panting, sweating and generally exhausted. Apart from Cristo, the Austrian, who we discover lives in the Alps at altitude and climbs moutains every day or something.

By some miracle the porters have set up a big dining tent, there are bowls ready for us to wash in and then we are served a three course lunch right there on the mountain side. It is delicious and everyone is starving.

That afternoon we see our first Inca ruin. What I hadn't realised about the Inca Trail is that apart from the end game of Machu Picchu there are heaps of amazing Inca forts, temples and outposts along the trail that served the Incas as they made their pilgrimmage to Machu Picchu. The first is a sizable town, complete with the famous Inca terraces. It is impressive - and I can only imagine what Machu Picchu must be like in comparison.

That afternoon we climb to around 11,000ft, a gain of 2000ft on rocky, uneven ground. It's hot and relentless.

We've covered 14km by the time we reach our camp and I flop down on the grass - both Stef and I are soaked through with sweat (nice). Even the Brazilian bombshells are looking a bit hot and bothered. It has been an exhausting but rewarding first day - we got through it and I am just so glad to be there on the trail. The view from our tent is jaw-dropping, we are on a cliff and the Andes are soaring high above and below us.

We have a happy hour in the dining tent (hot chocolate and lots of popcorn) and our guide talks us through the briefing for the following day. Day Two is the day everyone is most nervous about and the most challenging day of the trail. As if Day 1 wasn't tough enough.

Day 2

We get woken up by the porters with a cup of coca tea at 5am. Stef has caught a stinking cold and with the altitude he is struggling to breathe. Our guides give him some coca leaves to chew to numb his sore throat (coca leaves are the cure for everything it seems).

As everyone eats breakfast in the dining tent we are all very quiet and the apprehension is palpable because today we will be covering 16km, climbing to the top of the infamous Dead Woman's Pass at 13,800ft. Since we camped at 11,000 we will be climbing nearly 3,000ft up a steep stone staircase laid by those crazy Incas. Then once we have reached the summit we then have to climb down the otherside another 2,000ft. All of this is to be done before lunch. 

I assume it is called Dead Woman's Pass because that is how you feel when you reach the summit but our guides tell us it's because the mountain resembles the sillhouette of a dead woman staring at the sky.

There's nothing to be done but grit our teeth and get on with it. What a slog. Step up after step up. But the landscape changes dramatically as we climb higher and we reach the edge of the cloud forest - there are orchids and condors circling. Big ferns and dense trees. Then suddenly we are through the forest and climbing higher and the cloud line is getting closer. The porters thunder past and I am exhausted just watching them. After two hours solid climbing we stop for a snack. Then it's another two hours climb to the summit.

The path winds on but suddenly we round a bend on the mountain and I can make out a few people at the summit. It is in sight and it gives me the boost I need.

Stef and I decide to power up it as fast as we can. The air is much thinner now so we are more out of breath. But finally we are on the last step and at the top. Everyone in our group is estatically high fiving each other. My legs are trembling after 4 hours solid climbing but I don't care - we did it. We are at the cloud line and clouds and mist are swirling around us. The temperature drops dramatically. We are in the High Andes now at nearly 14,000ft. I feel on top of the world.

But the celebrations are short-lived because it is soon time to descend the other side of Dead Woman's pass and it will take us 2 hours to climb down. It's not as physically exhausting as the uphill but it is more of a mental challenge because you have to think about every step - the suface is very uneven and rocky, it is all too easy to slip and plummet down or twist and ankle. I am so glad I opted for a hiking pole for support. Then it starts to bucket down with rain. We stop and quickly put on our waterproofs and rain ponchos. It's hard to see where we are going and freezing cold. It's true what they say about mountain whether changing in a flash. On the Inca Trail, our guides say it is possible to see four seasons in one day.

By the time we reach our lunch stop we are soaked. We huddle inside the dining tent.

Once we've refuelled it is back out into the elements - we now have to climb 1,500ft up to the second pass and then down another 1,500ft on the other side to reach our camp for the night. As our guide says, 'There is no such thing as flat in the Andes."

We see some amazing Inca ruins on the way and because of the nature of the climb the group splits off. Sometimes we end up walking with the Irish lads who keep us laughing. We stop to rest with them every 10 mins of climbing because we are all getting so tired now. On the steep descent it is just Stef and I alone with the wind whipping us and the Andes all around. It is pretty special. Even more special when we get to camp and I'm the first girl to arrive. All the porters clap and I high five everyone. Once we have all arrived we work out that we have been walking for 10.5 solid hours excluding breaks. About six hours  were continual climbing. I can't believe we did it.

We all go to bed at 8pm because we are all so exhausted - it is also bitterly cold because we are at the cloud line and Stef is feeling really ill with his cold. But unfortunately, because it is so cold not many of us sleep.

Day 3

The day starts off really badly because at about 1am I realise the curse of the Peruvian tummy is back. It is freezing and as I am sitting in our tent throwing up into a plastic bag I wonder what the hell I am doing in these mountains and I have a few tears. Stef does his best to comfort me - he is still feeling terrible himself. The next morning I am still feeling shocking The guides try to get me to eat because I will need the energy - we have an 11km walk with a climb to start and then a 3000ft descent to our final campsite before Machu Picchu. But I can't eat anything. Turns out I am not the only one - poor Irish Steven is in the same boat. We seek out the Brazilians who give us some of their magic pills. I'm feeling very weak and so is Steven because neither of us have been able to eat anything. We climb at the back together, comparing bouts of nausea. Steven has to periodically dash off into the bushes. I am glad I am not the only one feeling like this. I literally drag myself through the climb, only thinking about my feet and where to put them. The meds seems to help a bit and Steven and I manage to eat some biscuits. 

The descent is tough going -  we have now reached the high jungle, it is humid and slippery there are mossies. I just keep thinking about what my feet are doing. But I can't help but notice the beauty around me - hummingbirds flit around, there are huge, lavish orchids and vines. 

By the afternoon we reach camp and after an hour's lie down I feel much better. Our guide takes us to what he says is his favourite Inca ruin - a place called The Town in the Clouds. It's impressive - there are altars, temples with windows over looking the terraces and the valley below. We arrive there at dusk and there is hardly anyone else there. It feels very ancient and mysterious.

We are all pretty excited too because tomorrow morning we will arrive at the Sun Gate before sunrise and get our first glimpse of dawn breaking over Machu Picchu. After the exertion and challenge of the Inca Trail it feels like the Holy Grail is within reach.

Day 4 

The guides wake us at 3am. We have to be ready to get to the last checkpoint at 3.30am. It opens at 5.30am and the queue of other groups is likely to be huge. We want to be one of the first to reach the Sun Gate before everyone else so we need to start walking at 5.30am on the dot. It is a one hour descent then 100 steps up to the Sun Gate that are affectionately known to the guides as the Gringo Killers because they are so steep. Great. From there it is another hour walk down to Machu Picchu. But we are all ready for it.

The day dawns grey, rainy and humid. We pack up for the last time and sit at the last checkpoint in the dark, playing cards. Stef gets out his Ipod and plays The Final Countdown. We are all really pumped and excited - this is it. There are already about 5 groups waiting ahead of us. There are so many people behind. 

When the checkpoint opens everyone cheers and we start hiking. Our guide helpfully tells us that we are on the most dangerous section of the Inca Trail - it is the most narrow and there are often landslides - only last year a woman died in a landslide hiking that section of the trail. 

People are walking quickly - too quickly - some are even running, pushing people out of the way in the bid to reach the Sun Gate first. It's a shame. Our group adopts a speedy pace but we stick together.

We make it up the Gringo Killers and as we do we pass an Inca altar carved into some rock. Reynaldo, our guide, explains that many Incas who had made the pilgrimmage to Machu Picchu stopped there to make an offering to Mother Nature as a thank you for getting them to the end of their journey safely. Stef and I pause - we each take three coca leaves and put them on the altar. We were both so grateful that we had reached the end of our epic journey safely too.

We round a corner and two high stone walls are either side of us, we are walking through a doorway. Our guides congratulate us - we have reached the Sun Gate. I hold my breath desperate for my first look at the lost city. But in front of us is a total white-out - it is so misty we can't see anything. 

"Just wait here," the guides says. We do.

Suddenly, without any warning the clouds break a little far below us. A shaft of sunlight breaks through the cloud and rain and in front of us, a rainbow arcs across the sky and exactly beneath it, illuminated, are the ruins of Machu Picchu. Yes, beneath a rainbow. They are even more spectacular, monolith and mind-blowing than they look in the photos. 

Everyone gapes. Even the guides who have seen it a thousand times. We try taking photos but they can't capture the beauty of that rainbow over the city  in the sky. Our guides say they have never seen a rainbow directly above the ruins before. We were truly lucky and that mental snapshot will stay with me forever.

As we walk down the track to the ruins, taking photos, congratulating each other that we'd made it, ready for a day exploring Machu Picchu, I think we were all silently thanking Mother Nature for making our first glimpse of this place so unforgettably special.