Once it was booked, Machu Picchu was a huge anchoring point for our trip. Everything we did in the weeks before revolved around getting to Cusco in time for the trail. We had spent over a week at altitude prior to the trek so we were confident we had done everything we could to prepare ourselves.

When we woke up to pouring rain on the morning of day one, we were pretty concerned that we may be out of luck and the next four days and three nights of hiking and camping were going to be extremely wet and potentially miserable. Hardly surprisingly with Adam around, luck was on our side and we only really had two afternoons of heavy rain. Even the guide was surprised!

Of all the people travelling across the world, we randomly ended up on the Inka Trail with three Melbournians from Camberwell, could the world be any smaller! Nick, Nick and Matt were a fantastic trio and we felt so lucky to have randomly landed such an easy going, like minded and funny group to travel so intimately with for the four days. We also quickly discovered that our paths in Melbourne could easily have crossed in the past with Nick playing basketball for Camberwell Dragons!

Our guide for the tour was Pepe. Originally, we thought he was great, a bonus that he wasn’t blind drunk like other guides and porters that we had seen. In the end, he turned out to be a bit of a creep, but we had some funny banter with him and the boys along the trail.
The trek itself was a challenge. As Pepe said in his original pep talk, “at times you will say ‘Fuck you Inka Trail!’ “. Despite the tough walks up hill at altitude, every day brought with it diverse scenery, new ancient ruins, fascinating stories about the trail and its relative recent discovery and tales of Inkan culture and life.

The Inca trail is 45km long and is said to have been built as a holy pilgrimage; a path for the Inkan people to walk to prove their faith to their gods. There is also thought that the steep, rocky stairways and inclines were deliberately built to decrease visibility which meant that potential enemies would need significant stamina to find them. We were even told that invited guests were occasionally blind folded and lead in the dark of night so that their location could remain secret. They must have done an amazing job because the Spanish conquistadors never found Machu Picchu and it was only rediscovered in 1911.

Our first day was probably the easiest. Once our mini bus arrived in the village we were quickly accosted by local woman selling rain covers for our bags, poncho’s and crocheted water bottle carriers. Adam and I laughed as she sucked each of the boys into buying one of each of her products, insisting they were absolutely necessary. To start the trek, we were required to pass through the passport check point and our porters through a weigh station. Due to companies taking advantage of porters in the past, they are now ONLY allowed to carry 20kg each and are weighed at different check points throughout the trail to ensure this weight is maintained or lightened.
The porters really put us to shame. They would stride past us on the trail, no huffing or puffing, just quietly criss-crossing their way along the trail with their remarkable stamina and killer calves. They would be carrying their 20 kgs, six times what we were carrying, and they would always beat us to the camp site, have our tents set up and a hot cup of tea and wash bowl ready and waiting. They were truly super human.

Throughout the first day we walked along paths passing cacti, medicinal trees, children playing amongst their mud brick houses and horses and donkeys carting huge bags of food and supplies for the communities. When we were climbing up one particular hill, we witnessed a horse slip on the muddy path and almost fall off the edge. Luckily a bush stopped its fall and it was able to recover. It’s a tough life to live for everyone involved.

At the evening camp site we were absolutely spoilt by the porters. Freshly washed and changed we went out to the food tent to find fresh popcorn, hot fried cheese triangles and beers that had been carted up the hill by a local lady and cost us next to nothing for all her effort. As with lunch, a three-course dinner was to follow and an early night. From the camp site we could just see the peak of ‘Dead Woman’s Pass’, the highest pass of the trek and a reminder of what was to come the following day.

We were up early the next day, woken by a porter at our tent door with our energising cocoa tea and warm wash bowl. The morning trek seemed to go forever. It was stunning with ruins and llamas along the way and even a large stall to stock up on rum, beer and snacks! We managed to get to the top of Dead Woman’s Pass, standing at 4215 mt, before lunch and sat and had a moment to celebrate our victory together. It wasn’t long before the rain decided to join us and we sped up the pace to get down the hill and to the lunch tent. There was a point in the trail where the rain got so heavy we stopped alongside around 30 other porters and hikers under a cluster of giant boulders and huddled together sheltering from the worst part of the storm. Lunch could not have come sooner! Starving and exhausted, we arrived at the lunch tent and none of us could move. Especially after another three-course feast, standing up to walk another few hours was extremely tough. The boys introduced us to their game ‘At the Inkan supermarket, I bought…’ game and it kept us all distracted and entertained for a good while! Our camp site that night was at 4200mt and in between bursts of clouds we had a spectacular view down a valley into distant snow-capped mountains, forests and waterfalls.

The morning of the third day I woke up feeling tight in my face. Given the lack of mirrors I only found out later that my face had retained around 5 lts of fluid due to the altitude overnight and had caused my face to blow up like a balloon. That morning at breakfast, the porters surprised us with a decorated cake, which they had somehow cooked with portable camp utilities and at altitude, unbelievable. We were so impressed we requested a group photo with the masterpiece. The cake was incidentally in front of me, so I picked up the cake to pose for our pic, not knowing how I looked. On reflection of the photo, I looked like Verruca Salt, like I had eaten ten cakes before and I was about to dive into my 11th! Argh, altitude, you cruel beast. So unpredictable and indiscriminate.

Fuelled with cake and a hearty breakfast we hit the trail again, passing over mountain passes that offered beautiful river and ruin views below. We got to the evening camp site at lunch time and Pepe recommended that we continue walking after lunch, past the Machu Picchu sun gate, and into Aguas Caliente township below. He advised us that although people had been camping at that site, there had recently been landslides and he believed given the large down pour we had had the day before, it would not be safe to stay there. He mentioned he had a contact in town and an alternative camping option wouldn’t be a problem. So, on his advice, after lunch we continued walking and in the late afternoon, Adam and I crossed over the Sun Gate, hand in hand, to see our first glimpse of Machu Picchu together. Surreal and luckily a spectacularly clear view. We all sat down and marvelled at the view for a good hour. What a journey.
Sadly, for us that was not the end of the trail. We could have caught the bus back into town from Machu Picchu, but we decided it wouldn’t feel right, so we decided to walk the last hour of the trail. Adam and I and the boys set off without our guide down the stone steps, along the forest trail. About half way down it started to rain, and it didn’t let up for the next hour of our hike into the town. Luckily, we had our trusty blue, highly fashionable ponchos on hand!
Arriving into town exhausted we randomly bumped in to Kris, our Australian Black Jesus mate from the San Blas. Seriously, could the world be any smaller. After a brief catch up, we were led by Pepe into an Italian restaurant. We followed him through the restaurant and up two flights of stairs, to find ourselves on an open-air roof top, with our tents set up amongst washing lines, timber piles and our porters with their camping kitchen set up and already preparing our supper. That night we all agreed we had earnt a beer. Retrospectively when a beer quickly turned into more than one, we should have pulled up stumps. But encouraged by our younger pilgrimage sidekicks, along with our guide, we drank too many beers, jugs of pisco sours and who knows what else. The night ended far too late and the 4am alarm came far too quickly. Shamefully, our tour of Machu Picchu the following morning was less than productive. Pepe lead five half asleep and extremely hung over, possibly still drunk, Melbournians around the site, trying to build enthusiasm. We did our best but after 2 hours, a quick rest stop turned into five of us having a siesta, on a rock, overlooking the spectacular, once in a life time view of Machu Picchu. Not our proudest moment.

Machu Picchu, despite being seen through very shady eyes, was remarkable. How it was hidden for such a long time is astonishing. The structures themselves were amazingly conserved and stories around each room fascinating. It was worth the journey and the adventure. That afternoon after a pizza lunch in Aguas Caliente, we all boarded the train back to Cusco, our adventure complete.
Not ready to say goodbye however, we regrouped with our Inkan family (the perito sucios) the next night in Cusco for dinner and cocktails at an awesome restaurant overlooking the Cusco city lights below.