The Inca Trail

Day one

The first big challenge of the Inca Trail trek was packing my duffel bag that the porters would carry. I had brought a way too much crap. We had received the duffel bags at the briefing the night before, and I thought I had packed it fairly lightly, but having to squeeze the provided sleeping bag in at the start of the trail was a big challenge. I normally travel light, but this time I had definitely over-packed. The poor porters.

The packing challenge took place after a comfortable three-hour pre-dawn bus journey, where I managed to get some extra sleep in. Once everyone's duffels were sealed, and we got our rented hiking sticks, at last it was time to get going. After bouncing, full of beans, across the footbridge that marks the beginning of the trail, the first gentle little uphill section was...a little too breathless for comfort. We were above 3000m, and the lack of oxygen made you feel like you hadn't walked in about a year. This would take some getting used to.

Warren was a fellow trekker in my group from Enniskillen in Northern Ireland, and we shared a good chat over the first section, finding out that we had a lot in common, including some very similar experiences living in Australia. He had been to Machu Picchu nine years previous, but had never managed to do the Inca Trail, until now.

We weren't walking for too long before we encountered our first Inca ruins visible across the valley. The ruins were brought to life by a fascinating first history lesson from one of our guides, Miguel. It would be the first of three sets of ruins we would encounter before lunch, the next two being located in a spectacular valley location. Miguel spoke clearly and with passion, making the history lessons all the more absorbing. I had gotten lucky again with the choice of tour company - our guides (Manolo was the other) were both superb.

Besides the excellent guides, the food was also amazing. Our first lunch was an absolute feast, with a large and varied number of sharing plates occupying every piece of space on the long table served in a cozy dining tent. We had barely been hiking for a couple of hours at this point, and a three more hours or so of easy hiking post-lunch brought us to our resting point for the first night.

Most of our group were couples and shared a tent, but I was fortunate enough to have a four-man tent all to myself. I had never had a tent so big to myself in all my life. Compared to 10-man hostel dorms, this was absolute luxury.

Warren and I brought shame on our Irish heritage by being the only two people who didn't have a beer after day one. With the toughest day of the trek starting the next morning, we decided to pace ourselves, to the disbelief of the others (we were ruining the stereotype). The bonds amongst the group started to form during dinner that night, with our group deciding to take our team name from a quote from our guide Manolo when describing the Inca's version of toilet paper: for the next four days, we were the "Iron Asses". Our feast for dinner made it difficult to keep my eyes open after our uber-early start that morning, so along with everyone else I retired to my tent mansion early to rest up before the big day tomorrow.

Day two

This was the big one. I was pumped, ready for a tough climb with little oxygen. After a pretty easy stroll to the first break area, Warren and I didn't want to stop, but decided to be sensible and stay with the group. The next section was Dead Woman's Pass, the hardest climb and highest point of the four days. After some Gatorade and a Snickers for myself, the group marched on.

The incline wasn't too bad, but the lack of oxygen was really kicking in by the time the above photo was taken. Still, Warren, Irvin and myself powered on ahead of the main pack, only stopping to catch our breath and take the picture you see above. It wasn't too much longer before we made it to the 4200m pass.

It was a nice feeling to have completed the hardest part of the trek, but it was also a little surprising to find it so easy. I was pumped up and expecting a much tougher climb, and to get to the top so easily was a little anti-climatic. Warren shared my sentiments on this. I suppose it's better than the opposite, and once the clouds cleared the view was excellent. We also had a bit of fun chanting "Iron Asses" to encourage other Iron Assees approaching the summit, our group name and group chant in one.

I was full of so much energy that I sprinted the long downhill section to our lunch stop. I hate downhill sections, I like to get them over with as quickly as possible. I sprinted so quickly that I was able to have a 25 minute nap in the sun before the rest of the group arrived.

The three speedsters (Warren, Irvin and myself) raced to another hilltop pass, to share a dramatic 360 degree view with two young Aussies from Melbourne, after which some more impossibly located mountaintop Inca settlement ruins were encountered. This is what makes Inca ruins different - they really picked the most difficult locations to build these, all in order to be closer to the worshipped sun.

Manolo expertly predicted that rain was coming, something we had not encountered yet. With memories of the soaking during the Ciudad Perdida trek still fresh in my head, I decided to hot-tail it to the campsite, which we could actually see from the Inca mountaintop. I made it into my dry tent with a couple of minutes to spare, relieved that I had escaped the only heavy rain of the four days.

Our dinner that night had an extra, pre-starter course of birthday cake. It was Ilana's birthday, and our chef at short-notice had somehow whipped up a birthday cake for us all to share, which was delicious. We topped it off by adding some pisco (the local firewater) to our traditional post-dinner mint tea to celebrate the fact that Ilana could drink now (she had just turned 21 and was from the US of course). I'm pretty sure it wasn't her first.

Day three

They had been doing a stellar job, so it was a nice touch on the morning of our third day to have a round of introductions between our porters and chefs, and us the trekkers. Most of our porters came from Lares, not too far from Cuzco, and almost all of them were shy and uncomfortable speaking in front of a group - a lot like the Irish are. They just get their heads down and get the job done, so it was great to give each of them a big bualadh bus (round of applause).

Besides the porters and the chefs, as I already mentioned our guides were fantastic. They both seemed to "get" the group, and knew when to make jokes and when to be serious. With our group, most of the time they were cracking jokes, to the point where it was hard to take anything they were saying seriously by the third day, but all part of the fun. Funny, knowledgeable, passionate and on-the-ball, Miguel and Manolo were two of the best guides I've had, for any expedition, period.

Two more sets of Inca ruins were encontered before we stopped trekking for the day at lunchtime on day three. The second ruins in particular were impressive, with a stunning vista over the confluence of three valleys. They also happened to be the location where a pack of alpacas were hanging about, with ample photo opportunities. In the glorious sunshine, and knowing that we were almost done hiking for the day, this was a great chill-out spot - everyone was in good spirits.

Our final campsite was located on a hillside in the grounds surrounding the notorious Inca Trail pub. It had been closed for six years due to structural damage that was too expensive to repair, which was a shame as from the window I could see it had a big fireplace and looked like a cozy place for a pint. Everyone rises early the following morning to get to Machu Picchu before the bus hordes invade, so a beer or two often turned into an all nigher, with the final trek to the destination done under a haze of drunkenness. I was probably better off with it being closed.

A cold shower (the first of the trip) and another excellent filling lunch left us well preparted for the final set of ruins we'd encounter on the trail before the Machu Picchu complex itself, Wiñaywayna. These were the most incredible we'd seen thus far, especially when contrasted with the surrounding mountain-sides, which gave an indication of just how much work it must have been to carve out and construct on the mountaintop like this.

The terraces here, like with the other ruins, were used for growing crops - instead in this case they provided part of the food supply for Machu Picchu itself. I wandered down to the bottom row for a different perspective, and stood in awe at the engineering prowess of a people who had no access to electricity or steam power - this was all done with human muscle.

Day four

An early night preceded an early start, 3am this time. The entrance to the Sun Gate trail, which ends at Machu Picchu, opens at 5.30am, and we wanted to be first in line to get the best spot for our first view of Machu Picchu at sunrise. It was a cold, dark, long two hour wait. I passed the time trying to fix my camera, which was on the fritz again, right before feckin' Machu Picchu. No luck, my phone would have to do.

We were the second group of trekkers through the entrance gate when it eventually opened, with a long queue behind us. This was the final hike of the four days, and we powered through the fist section, vaulted up the "Gringo Killer" steps, and sprinted to the Sun Gate viewpoint, to be greeted with a breathtaking view of...clouds. We hung around for 30 minutes or so, and only caught a little glimpse of our goal in a little break in the clouds, which was a little disappointing. We can't control the weather though.

A little further down the trail we came across people who smelled better, were better dressed and better groomed than us - our first encounter with the lazy folks who got the bus. It was hard not to feel superior to them - we had earned our rewards, and it wasn't long before we reaped them, a small set of ruins giving us a great cloudless view over the Machu Picchu complex. Just a little further and we would make it.

And make it we did. The view was a little cloudy at first, but as predicted by our imperious guides it cleared up and soon became hot and sunny, exposing the full complex in all its glory. What an incredible sight it was, with huge valleys spinning out in each direction from the mountaintop, and the imposing Wayna Picchu (which some of us would soon climb) towering over the complex like an enormous sentry made out of rock.

Before the history lessons, a surprise was in store. Dan and Liza, a couple from Boston and two of the coolest people in the group, wandered up some stairs to get a good viewpoint, along with Warren and myself. I was just standing in awe at the view when I noticed Dan getting down on one knee. You can guess what happened next. Too overwhelmed to speak at first, Liza eventually said yes, and the ring was placed. Warren was in on the act and acted as the official photographer for the event. Well done Dan, it takes some nerve to do that in front of so many people.

After that epic moment at this epic place, it was time for a final group picture, followed by some final history lessons from Miguel. The history was amazing, but this was also by far the most crowded Inca ruin we had visited, and so was actually less enjoyable than some of the other ones in my opinion. But now it was time for a different perspective - a select few of us had decided on some extra punishment by booking tickets to climb Wayna Picchu, the peak that directly overlooks the complex.

As it turned out, the select few were the just-engaged Dan and Liza, Warren, and myself. The first thing that Dan and Liza would do as an engaged couple was face the hardest hike. It was the steepest climb by far, mostly big rocky steps, and for the first time in the four days I had to pause to catch my breath.

The view from the top was worth it though. You could see the different valleys surrounding us, as well as the entire Machu Picchu complex itself in all its utterly spectacular glory.

A celebratory dinner and some drinks in Aguas Calientes, the frontier town closest to Machu Picchu, was just reward for 54km of walking over four days. After the long rail and bus journey back to Cuzco, most of the group extended the celebrations into the night at The Wild Rover (of course), which was in full party mode by the time we all arrived there at 10pm. I quickly learned that folks from the US like to dance even when they're sober. It took me a few drinks to get to that stage, but once I did there was no stopping me. I vaguely remember dancing on the bar, and definitely remember ordering a round of Baby Guinness for everyone (while standing on the bar) as well as leading a round of Bohemian Rhapsody karaoke with Dan (still standing on the bar). After my lapse on day one, I think I repaired their view of the Irish stereotype.

So that was it, the second "big hitter" of the trip done and dusted. The alternative Salkantay trek to Machu Picchu supposedly has better scenery, but I'm a history buff, and I loved passing through the plethora of ruins on the Inca Trail. Machu Picchu was amazing of course, but I honestly enjoyed some of the earlier ruins, which our small group had to ourselves, even more. Most of the path was rocky, requiring constant concentration, which made it more difficult to enjoy the scenery. In terms of difficulty though, as long as you don't succumb to altitude sickness, and are generally in decent shape, the hike is pretty easy. Ciudad Perdida in Colombia was tougher for sure.

As for the non-trail specific parts, there was never a dull moment with our fellow trekkers from the US, every meal bringing laughs. I had some great little chats with Warren, and I'll always remember inadvertently being a part of the engagement of Dan and Liza. Overall, the combination of great scenery, history, guides, porters, chefs, and company made this a hike to remember. Iron Asses for life.

More pictures from the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu

My trekking company was Alpacca Expeditions, who I highly recommend