Inka Trail, foo´!

Yes, unfortunately there was an occurance in those few days that I was supposed to update the blog. That occurence was a combination of me forgetting and me really not wanting to. But alas! Here is a (probably) small post written in the lobby of a hotel with newfound internet. I will either post again, or add some more onto this post soon. For now... lets talk Inka Trail.

The basic history surrounding the Inka Trail is that there is this place called Machu Picchu (heard of it? Check the cover of your spanish workbooks) . It is supposedly pretty great. Some farmer was doing his plowing up the side of a mountain in the Andes in a rainforest(?) and suddenly came accross an ancient culture. Whodathunkit.

A trail was discovered that was paved by the Inkas. Unfortunately, this path was neither big enough, nor easy enough to support several companies trying to make mad profits off of their own culture´s history, while simultaneously having stands set up every two hours with people trying to sell you soft drinks (dont you hate it when that happens?). A new one was built, still unpaved, still trecherous, but managable. We attempted this path.

We began at five in the morning before the sun came up in our little hotel. We all piled into a huge bus and traveled around Cusco, Peru for about an hour and a half rounding up all the people. We ended up with three Swedish gals (aged 19 to 20), and three Aussies, (two were a couple, the other free lancing) a Norweigan couple, an English couple, and one other American. We really couldn't have asked for a better group.

Our guide than introduced himself as Freddy. He seemed to find it hilarious to add "Kruger" onto his name. And he didn't let us forget it.

After a morning of bus driving, hawker (people that sell you stuff) avoiding, and picture taking, we finally began the trail. 

The three days that we spent on the trail were absolutely gorgeous. Like, seriously. I can say that even though I'm male. Be quiet. 

Although the first day was accompanied by railroads and powerlines, we soon were able to stray off and go through empty valleys. The first day was pretty straightforward. We soon learned that hiking at 3500 meters (roughly 10,000 feet) is NOT the same as hiking at sea level. The small amounts of uphill we had to do left us breathless, but we quickly began to acclimate (that means getting more blood cells, which means getting more oxygen from the air.)

Our camping arrangements wasn't bad. There is a stereotype among the people hear that gringos (white people) a normally pretty rich and like things posh. Thus leading me to my next point. Although we lived in tents, and had to use squat toilets, mealtimes were something else. If you have ever been to Widji, you'll know what I mean when I say lunch time isn't usually the most formal of times. But her, oh no. We got EVERYTHING, including somethings I'm pretty sure I don't eat most of the time. At lunch time, the porters, who not only carry fifty pounds of weight up rocky slopes, but also pitch our tents, cook our food, and do pretty much everything, set up an entire tent where they set out folding tables (that they had to carry on their back) then set out over a dozen folding chairs (also carried on their backs) and then set the table with napikins for everyone a fork, knife and TWO SPOONS! I mean come on... I don't really need that much. THen we were served some soup, and then the main course, complete with meat, veggies, bread, potatoes, and many other things. At dinner we got pudding. 

The second day was grueling. Not only was five of the seven hours straight uphill, but my mom got as sick as... a dog? Even though I was healthy, I was having serious trouble that day, having to hold my sides as we went up over a kilometer. Reaching the highest point on the Inca Trail, we set down the rocks that we brought up to honor Pachamama (Mother Earth in Inca speak), and then ate our candy bars. It was at that point that more walking didn't really seem like an option. I was a little to selfish at that point to realize that my parents were two hours behind, counting the amount of steps until their next break. I headed down.

Our descent was over five hundred meters, and we quickly realized that the most efficient way of sparing our knees from telescoping was to run. After forty-five minutes of hoping boulders, and taking switch-backs at top speed, we came to our camp. It took the rest of the evening for my knees to stop shaking. 

The third day was non-descript. We did some uphill. We did some downhill. It was cold. It was cloudy. Near the end we came across some spectacular views of a  huge river running in between the mountains. We would follow that river to Machu Picchu. 

The next morning (if you can call it that) we woke up at 3:45 a.m. We had to sprint down the trail as soon as we could to get in line for the entrance to Machu Picchu. As we got in, we began brushing our teeth and watching the slower groups line up behind us. 

As soon as we got through the warden's place, we had to pick up the pace. At Machu Picchu there is a semi-famous hike that takes you directly above the ruins for ultra-cool views. Unfortunately, spots on this hike are limited, so speed was of importance. While we left the old people in the dust, we basically ran/speed walked for an hour over rocky terrain until we came to the famous ruins. Regretfully, my first thought was "Hey, this looks like my Spanish workbook". 

As we entered the ruins, we didn't have time to enjoy it, because we had to get into line for hike tickets. Glancing at multicentury-old architecture, we sprinted up myriad steps through fantastic ruins, across fabuous plains until we came to the ticket office, with a longer-than-long line streaming from it. After a long wait we received our tickets, number 375 out of the 400 available spots. Looking up at the mountain we were about to hike, I was suddenly struck awe/exhaustion. There are times in your life when you have worked for something very hard, and when you see the payoff you see it was all worth it. This was not one of those times. 

While roaming the ruins while waiting for our hike time (8:00) we could easily distinguish the people that took the train to the ruins from the hikers. There is a certain amount of smugness that you feel when you pass the obese guy with the too-tight hat strap and the large camera hanging around his neck and the guy in the collared shirt with the goofy grin who is videotaping the book that his guide is showing him.

After our hike (which can be described as so-grueling-that-I-won't-even-go-into-detail-but-let's-be-honest-that-was-a-pretty-kick-butt-view-don't-you-think?), we hopped a bus (with air-conditioning!) down to Aguas Calientes, a small town that was built purely for the purpose of the high tourist population. There we took several hot showers, several hot spring baths, and several delicious hot meals. 

Our next trip was the Manu Biosphere Reserve, which will be a different post. I want to get this one on the web so people know I am still alive. I am really bad at posting. Sorry. It's what I do.