The Lares trek and Machu Picchu

Ah yes. The centre of anyone's trip to South America - the home of the Incas. 500 years ago the Spanish arrived in Cusco and levelled it. They killed everyone in sight, took every bit of gold and silver and destroyed any legacy of Inca existence. Everything except Machu Picchu. Hidden deep in the high jungle of the Sacred Valley it was abandoned by the Incas to protect its discovery by the Spanish. Today the it is visited by hundreds of people every day to appreciate its almost completely preserved beauty.

A visit is pre-empted in two ways, sitting on a train for 90 minutes or trekking and camping in the mountains for four days. To skip the trek is really missing out on most of what one of the most sacred and precious places on earth has to offer. The Inca trail is the typical choice by most. Over 4 days up to 16 people in a group will walk 6-7 hours each day finishing at Machu Picchu. Back in November me and Karen did a bit of reseach and decided that we preferred an alternative, less popular but more difficult and higher version; the Lares trek. Instead of walking with 500 people there is a good chance there might only be a handful on the mountain paths with you. In our case, since it was low season it was just me, Karen, 2 cooks, a guide, a horseman, 4 horses and a dog. Since no one else had booked the trip for our dates (or anywhere near them) we had our own private tour.

Starting out on our first day with a easy 4 hours of light uphill we quickly realised how remote and special the trek would be. Very rarely did we spot any other locals and not once did we see another tourist. That night we camped in a remote village tucked into a valley miles from any road or technology. People lived in mud and brick houses, inside about the size of an average sitting room, maybe 4 or 5 people per house. Horses, pigs, sheep, llamas, dogs and cats all wandered around, the source of food and transport for the locals. The following morning we were introduced to the family who's land we were camped on. We were invited into their house to see meat hanging from the walls, animal skins drying and guinea pigs running around on the ground (all houses have guinea pigs, cooked and eaten on special occasions). They welcomed us and our guide translated our questions. We gave the owner a bag of coca leaves as a gift as we left.

Our second day proved to be twice as hard as the first, beginning with a gentle incline for 2 hours, followed by a hard steep slog to the top of a mountain pass at 4700m. An extremely demanding hike, each step became increasingly difficult as the road got steeper and the air got thinner. Eventually we were taking breaks every 5 minutes to gather up enough energy for a few more metres. Nearing the top the grass and trees disappeared and even the llamas looked at us quizzically as we passed them up to the lifeless peak. A few times we wondered were really going to make it but pushed on, we had come this far....

After what seemed like an age we somehow dragged ourselves to the peak of the pass. The tops of the mountains either side of us seemed like only another few minutes walk. Houses, animals and people were tiny dots in valley below us, only Neil Armstrong and Pete Doherty had been higher than this. It was an incredible feeling making it to (what our guide said) was the peak difficulty from the trek for the 4 days, everything was downhill from here (in a good way). Looking down the moutain ahead of us we could see a spectacular lake, where we would be having lunch. It looked like the inside of the crater of a volcano, completely surrounded in rock, a few bits of heather and grass the only living things visible. It started to rain (more like sleet, from the cold) and we made are way down to set up camp. After a rest and another hour of walking we camped beside and stream with a huge waterfall, an amazing sound that we fell asleep to that night.

A few of the pictures below show the horses and porters that travelled with us. Each day we left camp they packed up behind us, loaded the horses and usually started about an hour after we did. Incredibily, within about 2 hours they had caught up and passed us, carry twice what we had, skipping across the rocks like it was tarmac. They reached our camping spot for the night, set up the tents and had food cooking by the time we arrived! Superhumans. Despite having limited space for food and utensils they managed to make delicious and always different food every night. Incredibly creative they presented, llama, beef, chicken, omlette, chips, salad even desserts. Permanently cheerful and helpful they seemed oblivious to the cold, rain or hard work naturally toughened to the conditions like the generations before them living in the mountains.

Here and there on our walk we'd be greeted by a child herding llamas or sheep. These kids would spend their entire day watching over the animals then bringing them back down to the farm for the night away from hungry foxes and mountain pumas. Spotting us panting up a mountain path a kid would would come bounding over the rocks as if they weren't there to greet us. We'd stop, welcoming the break and our guide would chat to them in Quechan (the Inca language) asking where they were from etc. Before the trek we were told it would be a good idea to bring small gifts such as fruit or colouring pencils to give to the children - most of them owned nothing other than the clothes on their backs. They would treat an orange like a birthday and Christmas arriving at once. Shy and slightly afraid of us white-skinned people they would whisper their thanks and disappear off into the mountain again. Each encounter with one of these kids felt very special. Looking at their clothes and simple life it was if time had stopped for these families 500 years ago, the Inca life had been preserved, isolated from the rest of the world changing around them.
Halfway through our second day we met a 10 year old girl who asked if we had any coca leaves for her Grandmother. Asked about her parents she quietly told our guide that her father had beaten her mother to death the year before (the reason wasn't clear) and that he was now married to another woman. Asking our guide why he wasn't in jail and why nothing was done he simply said "This is mountain life, very brutal". Law didn't really exist here, problems were solved domestically and no one interfered.

Our third day finished at the foot of the moutains where we said goodbye to our porters and met our bus to catch the "Machu Choo Choo", the train to the final stop before the great Inca ruins we had come so far to see. Hopping aboard the train we merged with all the gringos who had chosen the light-weight option of letting locomotion do the work of getting them to summit. Either too unfit or unwilling to experience the reward of seeing true mountain life up close the opted for the direct route from their hotel room and back. Looking around it felt like a New York subway carraige, filled with Americans, their cameras with lenses bigger than their backpacks, chattering about how "cute" everything was and using up whole memory cards on helpless locals minding their own business at the side of the track.
After one more overnight stay we rose at 4.30 the next morning for the sunrise race and the best camera positions as soon as the gate opened at Machu Picchu. Having seen and read so much about what we would see I had braced myself for possible disappointment. Reaching the top of the steps and looking down for the first time I needn't have worried. A breath-taking sight. Even with the all the excited pointing at the cute Inca temples and ruins by the Nikon brigade around us it was hard to not to be blown away by beauty of the valley, not sure the pictures below can even do us justice.

We spent the day wandering around before heading back to Cusco, the battery in my camera almost dead so happy we'd made it :)

Cusco

Maybe this girl had wanted an orange instead of a book

Candle light on the first night

Our camp for the first night

Our team (from top left) ;Alehandro, Jujulio, Pedro, Karen, Aldo, Me

Our porters steaming ahead of us

Made it!

At the top we made an offering of coca leaves and beer to Patchamama (Mother Earth)

This girl seemed a little happier to get a book

Inca jacks

Our guide Aldo

At last....

...we made it

Machu Picchu from Waynipicchu mountain (its the mountain in the background of the pictures above)