hiking the inca trail - machu picchu pt.2

17th - 20th May 2012

Machu Picchu, Peru

                    

                    After being feasted on by swarms of blood-thirsty mosquitoes throughout the night, we all woke up at 6.30am on the Friday morning to begin the long trek to the thermal hot springs of Santa Teresa which would signify the end of our second day on the jungle trail. Large plates of scrambled eggs were laid out before us to build up our energy for what would become a long and sweaty twelve hour march. Once everyone was ready for action, the group assembled outside the small restaurant we had eaten at the previous evening and then with Hugo leading the convoy, we all set off along a dirt track which led us down to the banks of the rio (river) Vilcanota whose flowing waters glistened under the adolescent rays of an infant sun. Reaching the edge of town, we walked across a bridge that spanned the raging, choppy waters; the surging whitewater below crashing into the steel girders to produce a fine plume of spray that covered the crossing in a misty haze. The old Santa Maria high street lay on the opposing banks of the river but has now become a ghost town having been abandoned for years after rising monsoon water levels kept bringing destruction to the town and forcing a relocation to a safer locality further up the side of the valley. The dilapidated buildings were now a mere facade as a brief snoop through the windows and doorways revealed that their innards had been stripped out and left to the pigs and wild dogs that foraged through their dead rooms. As we strolled through the lost town, the sun which had been steadily climbing in the sky broke through the line of the valley to illuminate one side of the street; highlighting cracked walls and broken pavements that time had slowly forgotten. Here is the Santa Maria old town:

Crossing the bridge.

The Rio Vilcanota

Santa Maria

The old abandoned ghost town of Santa Maria.

The forgotten buildings offered up some nice photogenic images.

With both the old and new Santa Marias behind us, we followed the river around a bend until it transformed into the mighty Rio Urubamba which would would ultimately lead us all the way to Machu Picchu which lay further South. While the sun climbed a few more rungs up its ladder in the sky, we skirted the river for a couple of kilometres passing by the clumps of mango and cocoa trees which lined the dirt road. Stopping to take a look at the richly adorned trees the group watched as Ants and Peter - Brit and Aussie - trundled off into the bush to climb one of them with the aim of retrieving an orange cocoa shell which hung high up in the branches. Using sticks, stones and a lick of humour - the comedians of the group had revealed themselves early on - they finally managed to knock the illusive treasure from its lofty perch and we all huddled around as Hugo cracked open the shell to show us the raw cocoa seeds inside which are the founding blocks of any chocolate bar. Digging into the juicy centre of the shell with his knife, we all tried a sample of the raw chocolate although the bitterly sweet taste of the small seeds was a long way from a bar of Cadbury's! After several more kilometres we thankfully turned off the fairly uninspiring main dirt road and started to scramble up a steep path which ascended the Western wall of the valley; passing through banana plantations until we reached the "Monkey House". Sitting back on a wooden bench to rest my legs and to take a swig of water, I watched a small monkey hump a depressed looking teddy bear for a few minutes which seemed a  trifle odd to me but the others were enjoying it so I kept my silence. The small jungle hut also had a coffee bean production line and a local lady showed us how the beans were processed once they had been picked in the valley. A large sheet of tarpaulin had been spread out across one of the terraces to allow the thousands of small beans to dry in the sun and develop their "aroma". Leaving both the beans and the randy little monkey to his own devices, we proceeded to cut a path through the dense flora and fauna until we reached a coca leaf plantation that clung to the steep mountainous sides of the valley. Sitting awhile submerged by the small green bushes we listened as Hugo spoke of the economic and cultural importance that the coca leaf has had on this part of the world for thousands of years. Touching briefly on the darker side of the controversial leaf he talked about how the government have attempted to clamp down on the mafia gangs that harvest crops for the production of cocaine in the Andean area by monitoring potential hot spots. It was interesting to hear that 3kg of cocoa leaves need to be plucked from the small bushes to produce 1 gram of cocaine so anyone who is caught moving more than this amount by the police is presumed to be involved in the manufacture of the infamous white marching powder. 

Walking along the river Urubamba.

Hugo cracking open a cocoa bean to reveal the raw chocolate seeds within.

Striding through the banana plantations to the monkey house.

Abused bear.

Washing the coffee beans at 'The Monkey House'

Walking through the coca leaf plantations.

Hugo and his cocaine leaves.

Leaving the tiny leaves of the coca plantation swaying in the wind, we headed further up the valley in single file along trails which traced a route through curtains of thick vines and under drooping banana leaves that curled over the narrow path in a series of natural archways. The dense thicket of trees would occasionally clear to our left revealing the valley falling away before us and after rounding a few more corners we came across a sign that hailed the beginning of an Inca Trail - there are in fact hundreds of these trails as the Inca emperors needed to have open communication channels with every corner of their kingdom. A brief stop followed at a hill station further up the valley where I came across THE COOLEST DOG IN THE WORLD and an opportunity for some novelty Peruvian dressing up presented itself which was about as cheesy as cheddar but proffered some amusing photographs to take home.

Entering the Inka trail.

Bossman. Been smoking summit.

Being stupid Gringos.

The Inca trail followed the fancy dress party as we traversed rickety wooden bridges, jumped over fallen tree trunks and waded through cascading waterfalls until a steep path snaked its way up to the shoulders of the vale. As we climbed higher and higher, the dense forest gave way to purple fields of grass which swayed with the motions of the wind  while the sun broke from behind a barrier of clouds to illuminate the valley which spread out into the distance. Reaching the highest point of what was once an actual "Inca trail" was a highlight of the day as the views were incredible and it felt surreal to be standing on the same rocky mountainous path that Inca messengers would have crossed over 700 years ago to pass orders on from one part of the empire to another. Using a relay system where different runners covered different parts of the trail, Hugo told us that records show that a message could be sent from Cusco and reach Lima within two days by foot! A huge distance across Peru but these trails cut a direct path through the mountains and the messengers that were used ran their different sections at full pace making it an extraordinary feat of ancient communication. Walking along narrow ledges which presented 200 metre high drops to the valley floor below was an exhilirating experience but one that required great concentration to safely navigate the uneven ancient steps which curled around impossibly steep corners and mounted precarious panoramic ridges. Walking along the Inca trail we came across a rocky outcrop which jutted out from the valley wall and it was possible to follow a narrow path across its back to a small natural viewing platform at the end. A dangerous route but well worth it for the spectacular views of the trail from a distance. Biggle Vision takes y'all along the Inca Trail:

Navigating past waterfalls towards the sacred valley.

Purple fields.

On the Inca trail. Hugo painted everyone's face with some dye from a plant in case you were wondering. TUBING!

The Inca steps.

On the jutting valley ridge.

We had already been walking for five hours by this point yet it was only midday which was good as we had managed to cover a lot of ground in the relative coolness of the morning. The afternoon though would be a scorcher and with our bellies rumbling having just been snacking on bananas we were eager to get to the lunch checkpoint for food and shade. After a few more minutes soaking in the rich ancestry of those well worn steps, we descended once again back into the humidity of the valley floor where we continued to follow the river all the way to the small dwelling of Quellomayo where lunch would be served. Sat around a long wooden table we tucked into our food and having eaten our fill, we all retreated back outside and I spent an hour dozing off into a brief siesta while swinging from one of the numerous hammocks which laced themselves between the surrounding trees. An hour flew past and after peeling ourselves away from the comfort of the hammocks we skirted the river for a few more miles coming across swaying cable bridges, tree-trunk waterfall crossings and massive boulders which had fallen in landslides from the roof of the valley. The day wore on and late afternoon soon sunk into the gorge which forced us to pick up the pace as we still had a fair way to go. As shade struck the lower sections of the gorge, the temperature dropped slightly while in the distance I could see snow-capped peaks rising into view. Passing local travelers who hauled large packs on their backs, we were soon within throwing distance of the thermal baths that we had been promised at the beginning of the day. The only problem was that they lay across the surging rapids of the rio Urubamba which had become vicious in its intensity; forming white swells that whipped crashing water into the marooned boulders that littered the river. In one final adventure of the day, Hugo led us up to a small platform where a steel cable hung taut across the rapids where it was attached to a similar platform on the other side. A small metal basket hung on the cable and could be rolled along to the other side as a means of transporting people, and so in groups of twos and threes, we took turns at climbing into this contraption and within 20 minutes everyone had been rolled/pulled across to the other side. A brief walk over a final ridge of the valley brought us down to the thermal baths where we relaxed in the warm water to soak our weary limbs after covering about 26km since Santa Maria. A few Cuba Libres and a steak dinner just about finished me off when we arrived at Santa Teresa later that evening and needless to say, I sunk like a stone beneath the surface of sleep the moment my head hit the pillow to end day two on the trail to Machu Picchu.

Halfway there! 

x

Heading for Quellomayo for lunch passing dried up waterfalls.

Hammock time.

The Rio Urubamba.

Required a bit of balance to get across some of the less stable crossings.

Ants the group jester.

The cable car river crossing.

Hugo following closely behind.

The hugely welcomed thermal baths.