Cachora - Machu Picchu trek. Days 7-9

With 6 days down, we were now on the home stretch to Machu Picchu. The toughest days were certainly behind us and there was even some real treats to look forward to in the remaining days. 

Day 7 is a fairly simple walk from Ccollpapampa to Playa Sawayaco (not actually a beach!), and then a half hour mini bus ride to the town of Santa Teresa. We started walking along the newly graded dirt road along with the other trekkers (on day 3 of their Salkantay hike), and about half an hour down the road Abel gave me the option of continuing down this flat, and to be honest kind of boring road, or to cross the Rio Totura and use the old trail. Of course, being the adventurous type, I chose to cross the river and do it the old fashioned way. 

From the other side of the river it gave a better view of the newly constructed road, and after seeing what I'd seen in the last 6 days, it made me a little sad. Development is obviously the way forward for these tiny remote towns, but the environmental impact of these roads is easy to see. Cutting a huge wedge out of mountains in order the make a road wide enough for two cars, combined with the rain and mountain waters in these parts obviously causes landslides. As we witnessed on day one, when we walked along a similar road, landslides will come quicker and bigger than the local authorities are able to clear, and inevitably the road will become impassable by vehicles. That's what I saw on day one, and I hope I'm wrong, but that's what I think will happen to this newer road in the future. I don't know what the solution is, but it seems that a lot of money is being wasted, money that could be better used in these communities in different ways. 

Anyway, I'd be interested in seeing what happens in the next few years, now back to the hike! We'd crossed the river over to the old trail, and this was much more enjoyable for me. Once again we were pushing through overgrown forest and crossing small waterfalls, some with somewhat suspect hand made bridges, and some purely on foot after attempting to pick the most stable rocky path, which wasn't always successful. Stopping to taste wild strawberries and having numerous other plants and flowers pointed out showed the value of having a knowledgable guide, and when we arrived at one of the many cable trolleys across the river and decided to have a go, I was glad I also had an adventurous one. One at a time we sat in the rickety trolley and had the other push us out to the middle of the valley, high above the river (50-60m at least). Slightly terrified at the thought of leaning too far left or right and toppling off the trolley, my nerves quick subsided after doing it once, and I just had to do it again to take a video (and then again when I realized the first video didn't work!). All this made for a fairly leisurely 4 hour hike, overall about 1km downhill to our lunch spot for the day, Playa Sawayaco (2070m), where we had the final delicious meal cooked by our chef.

After lunch you have a choice. You can either keep walking along the road for a few hours, or pay about $3 for a local mini bus for about a half hour ride. Since our horseman finished up his job at lunch and we still had a few cumbersome supplies to take with us, we took the bus option. The walk wouldn't have been anything that we hadn't encountered before, and saving time allowed us to get to Santa Teresa with plenty of time for a late afternoon visit to the hot springs, which stretched into the evening after a few welcome cold beers. The hot springs here are amazing, exactly what I imagine true natural hot springs to be like. The pools are perfectly constructed into the surrounding environment and almost look as if they've been exactly like that forever. A perfect way to relax and recharge after 7 long days. Stay as long as you like there for 5 soles (~$1.50)

Having now arrived at Santa Teresa we were now pretty much officially back in civilization, and that meant taking the chance to sleep in a real bed at a hostel (for about $3), and of course heading out for more drinks and a night on the (small) town. 

I woke up on day 8 feeling a little worse for wear, both from the night on the booze, and from sharing my bed with some sort of bug who liked the taste of my arms and legs. Itchy as all hell, we started with breakfast and headed to the zip lines for some more fun. After little to no instructions on what and what not to do, we were clipped on to the first zip line and sent across the canyon. 5 more zip lines followed and all gave similarly incredible views high above the river. The highest point is 150m high, and the fastest speed reached is about 65kph, pretty cool stuff! My camera didn't think so, and decided to pack it in whilst filming a video, never to work again, one day before Machu Picchu!

We jumped onto another bus and headed to the hydro electric station, strangely the only construction being permitted with Machu Picchu national park. We freaked out briefly as a worker ran up to our mini bus parked at the gate and said 'there's going to be an explosion!', thankfully, it was a controlled one and we were never really in any danger, but we were all deceived nonetheless by his broken english and ill-placed sense of urgency.

As lunch went down my hangover intensified, and knowing there was only a short 2-3 hour hike to get to Aguas Calientes I wanted to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. Shortly after we started the walk, I got to experience my first taste of the magic of Machu Picchu. I say magic because I just can't comprehend how it was done, but in all honesty it's just sheer brilliance. An oddly carved rock sits seemingly in the middle of nowhere about 800m in altitude below the ruins atop the mountain, and probably somewhere in the order of 5-6km in actual distance. This rock is huge, has almost perfectly square steps carved into it, and sits perfectly in line with one of the windows in the temple on the top of the mountain, and where the sun rises on the winter solstice. Absolute perfection, mind blowing for mine. That was just a taste of what was to come though, and on we moved for the days hike, walking along the train tracks along the Urubamba River stretching right around the mountain. It would have been a very pleasant walk were it not for the hangover, but even still, the scenery was terrific.

After a couple of hours we arrived at the bridge into the Machu Picchu park itself, a good opportunity for photos in front of the giant welcome sign, and then it's just a short 15 minute walk up the road to Aguas Calientes, a surprisingly modern, clean and busy town. I suppose tourism will do that.

It's at this point you can officially say that you've made it to Machu Picchu (when coming from this direction, the traditional 4 day Inca trail is different and you walk directly into the ruins), there's no more real distance to be covered, and day 9 is just venturing around the ruins. If I wasn't so tired, I would have gone out for a celebratory drink! Instead it was early to bed, to prepare for the 4am wake up to be one of the first to the ruins.

It's funny how 4am doesn't seem early at all when you're super excited about something. Like Christmas as a kid, I bounded out of bed full of energy and raring to go. By 4:30 we were down at the bridge again, where entry to the park starts at 5, enough time for a quick breakfast on the go. The anticipation was high, we were nearly there, only 45 minutes up the mountain to ruins, easy right? I'd been issued a challenge to try to beat Abel's record of 22 minutes, but knew after only a couple that that wasn't going to happen. Dressed warm for the cold, I was quickly dripping with sweat and stopping to strip off layers of clothing. Step after step, in the dark, with only a battery-fading headlamp to guide, this was probably the most intense 33 minutes of the trek. I couldn't stop because I knew the top was so close, but actually had no idea how much further it was. 700m worth of altitude later I arrived at the top cold, wet, thoroughly out of breathe and thankful for the best piece of advice I'd been given all week; Take a spare t-shirt with you. A little more time for a snack, then it was time to line up before the ruins open at 6am. First in line at one of the four lines, I was now crazily excited about what was to come. Finally 6am came, passports and tickets were checked and in we went.

Approaching the lookout where you can get a first glimpse of Machu Picchu from above, I closed my eyes and was led to the edge. Everything looked just like a postcard, a perfect view of this once lost Inca city. A few quick photos was all we got the chance for before the clouds rolled in and you could barely see 10m in front of you. I felt for the people walking in just minutes after me who wouldn't have got the same spectacular view to start the day. 

The cloud stayed thick and unfriendly for the next five hours. In that time I again came to appreciate the extra value I got from doing this trek as a lone tourist, I had a personal 1 on 1 tour of the ruins with Abel, and also got to hear so much more about Incan history that I don't think bigger groups would have got to hear. It's hard to put into words just how amazing the architecture, planning and construction at Machu Picchu is. For starters, just how a group of people 500 years ago could have such an understanding of the stars astounds me. The fact they can then plan to build buildings that create effects with shadows and light at such precise times of year (solstices) is beyond my comprehension. And then their ability to carry out their plans and actually spend years carving huge rocks with such precision that their buildings still stand perfectly 500 years later is something to make modern day rockmasons and bricklayers cringe. The sun temple, being one of the most important buildings in the Incan city, was built with the most precision. There's not millimeters to spare between huge rocks that must weigh hundreds of kilograms. I can't imagine how much time was spent carving and shaping these rocks to fit together with little or no mortar, and quite frankly, I don't think I want to know. A lot of Machu Picchu is still a mystery, as is the whole Incan culture, and some things are better left a mystery in my opinion. There's a magic and intrigue about Machu Picchu that I hope never goes away. My head is full of questions about how they built such precise buildings, how long certain things took, what inspired them to build in such a remote location, but I don't think I actually want these questions answered. For now I'm happy with just walking around the place in awe, and I hope I get the chance to do it again some day.

I will admit though, in the midst of the thick morning fog, I'd temporarily forgotten that spectacular early morning glimpse I'd gotten of the place, and was walking around thinking the place was pretty good, but not as good as I'd hoped. It wasn't until the fog cleared at 11:05, about 15 minutes after I'd climbed to the top of nearby Wayna Picchu mountain that I again was struck by the sheer magnitude of what I was seeing. Wayna Picchu is the postcard photo spot, where you can see the whole of Machu Picchu from an incredible vantage point. It's a pretty tough/steep stair climb to get there, but well worth the effort (maybe bring a second spare t-shirt if you do!). As I sat on one of the ledges overlooking the Machu Picchu site, I found myself cheering with a bunch of strangers for the fog to clear a little more, minute by minute, until finally we had the perfect photo opportunity. The look on one Korean girls face, who'd sat in that one spot for 3.5 hours, waiting, said it all. "I can go home now, I've seen it!" she said excitedly. I too, was again renewed in my faith that Machu Picchu was indeed every bit as spectacular as I'd hoped, and more. I returned from Wayna Picchu and did one more lap around the ruins soaking in as many visual memories as possible, using up most of my remaining energy, and every last bit of camera battery (camera borrowed from Abel for the day, thanks again Abel!)

And so it was that my much anticipated trek ended, with barely the energy to walk up the hill to the hot springs back in Aguas Calientes. It was certainly an extremely physically taxing 9 days, and not something I would recommend to just anyone. But if you love a challenge and are able to push yourself to the limit, you'll be able to tackle the Cachora to Machu Picchu 9 day trek. Having the chance to see the Choquequirao ruins with virtually nobody else around gives a whole different perspective to seeing Machu Picchu along with 1000 other people, and something I would highly recommend doing whether through this same trek or another. The scenery and landscapes along the way I'm sure are matched by other treks, but the river crossings and landslide navigation are probably not covered by the more popular treks, this one is certainly for the adventurous. Seeing single families and sometimes even individual people live in such extremely remote locations is something that makes our everyday lives seem infinitely complex, and really gives you something to think about. For me, the good parts heavily outweighed the hard parts. I'm extremely glad I chose this trek and can't wait to do something like it again, if that's even possible.

Cachora - Machu Picchu trek. Days 4-6

After another night of heavy rain, we were beginning to think we were lucky that it wasn't raining like that during the days. March is still wet season, so it wasn't out of the question that we'd still get some rainy days. But for now, the mornings were very foggy, and the afternoons quite sunny, temperatures probably around 15-20C. Good hiking conditions really, except that we missed out on some spectacular morning views because of the clouds.

After the relatively easy day 3, my batteries were recharged for another decent climb on day four, which was, looking back, probably the most fun/adventurous day. On paper the itinerary seems about the same as day 2; morning descent, river crossing, uphill for the rest of the day. Where it differed was in the details, the morning descent was via a very overgrown, rarely used track, again descending about 600m in 40 minutes or so. Approaching the final section to get right down to the river we encountered a number of fresh landslides, fresh as in 2-3 weeks old. Since this was a rarely used track, there was work to be done in clearing a path for our horses. I didn't get to help out personally, but watching the horseman and chef (all round helper, really) clear a decent track with a pick axe and a machete was pretty cool. Having to stop to do this four or five times slowed the descent, and it ended up taking about an hour to get the Rio Blanco.

What looked like a rather sedate and straight forward river crossing from hundreds of meters above, quickly became a much more difficult proposition at river level. While certainly much smaller than the previous river, this one we had to cross without the assistance of a bridge. The sight and sound of the icy cold waters gushing downstream was not unlike things I'd seen before, but the power behind the foot deep flow was quite extraordinary. We spent almost half an hour wandering up and down stream looking for a good place to cross, and then another 20 minutes throwing rocks in to make some sort of stable platform to shorten the jump across to the other side. Watching rocks we could barely move get washed down stream as soon as they hit the water was both disheartening and exhilarating at the same time. Eventually we had about a six foot jump over to a nice big rock, then a few more little jumps over the shallows and we were across. Sounds simple enough, but if anyone is able to get across without ending up with two wet shoes, I'd be impressed. Getting the horses across next gave me goosebumps, they struggled a little but got across without too much trouble. These animals are incredible and with a little encouragement will do anything for you, it was great to watch, and I felt like an extra on the set of 'The Man From Snowy River'.

From this point it was all uphill once again. Still traveling on fairly unused paths, at times we really had to push through the overgrown 'high jungle'. The altitude and climate obviously combined to make the perfect conditions for mosquitoes. And these weren't just ordinary mosquitoes; bigger than I've ever seen, they were like grasshoppers. Blood sucking grasshoppers, whose bites would end up bothering me for the next 10 days (hopefully there's no longer lasting side effects!). Mosquito repellent did little as within a few minutes of walking in the humid conditions it sweated out, so the only solution was to just keep walking to get above mosquito altitude. 'Cant stop, grasshopper mosquitos will eat me' was a line that replayed over and over in my head in Simpson-esque fashion. Onward and upward it was. The track remained overgrown, but fairly rocky and dry, so it wasn't too difficult physically. There was less traversing than previous days, meaning you could often see 30 or more meters ahead, all of which was solidly uphill, so it was best just to concentrate on a spot just a few meters ahead and keep on plodding one still wet foot in front of the other, mentally it was very tiring. After 2 solid hours with barely more than 30 seconds rest at a time (curse you, grasshopper mosquitoes), we arrived at the nights camp site. 1500m climbed in 2 hours, we'd certainly earned an afternoon of rest, and even treated ourselves to an ambient temperature beer, the possible purchase of which astounded me as we were now at least two days walk from anywhere. There's no possibility of cars accessing these areas, so at some stage someone has to bring these supplies here, presumably on horseback, amazing stuff. A single family lived here, along with a whole bunch of chickens, and a few goats and cows. Looking out over the surrounding valleys, it's hard to believe people can live in places as remote as this. Night four was once again peaceful, and rainy.

Days 5 was, to be honest, a fairly uneventful day. Probably the cloudiest of days, there wasn't much scenery to be seen, and the hike was tough, without being memorably difficult. Starting from camp, this path had been worked on recently, and was fairly wide and clear. Muddy in places with plenty of waterfalls along the way, it was nice to walk in a slightly different environment. Along the way to our summit we passed a number of 'illegal' mines, where we were able to fossick our way through rubble and find some decent chunks of silver, a nice little souvenir to take home. Our lunch destination was the pass between two summits, at about 4100m. Once again, being a solo tourist, we'd managed to cover this ground quite quickly, so it was an early lunch then we had some time to wait for the clouds to clear. Unfortunately on this particular day that didn't really happen, so we moved on a little over an hour later, downhill to the day 5 campsite at Yanama, the closest thing to a town that we'd seen since leaving Cachora, but really its just a big farming community. The late afternoon was spent laying on nice thick green grass, maybe even falling asleep for a brief moment, a sign that 5 days of hiking was starting to catch up with me. But still I felt fine as long as I kept drinking enough water, ready for day 6 - 'Challenge day'.

After earlier being told that day 2 was the hardest day, I was intrigued by what day 6 would have in store. I was pleasantly surprised by the first 90 minutes hike, quite clearly the most scenic hike of the whole nine days. Walking along an easy, only slightly uphill, rocky path through a valley above the river was an almost magical experience offering spectacular views in all directions. Mt Salkantay in the distance was unfortunately mostly obstructed by cloud for most of the morning, but the few glimpses we got made a lasting impression. The rest of the hike was breathtaking, literally as well as figuratively. After 90 minutes we started heading more severely uphill, at first not too bad, but after an hour it was getting tough. The last half hour was constant traversing up the steep dry, rocky path, to the pass at about 4200m, and was as tough as it got for the whole trek. The effects of altitude kicked in a little and I found myself with extremely tired legs, and hiccups! Rest was required every couple of minutes, and it was very slow going. Finally reaching the pass, we rested there and it wasn't long before I found myself with a bit of energy and wanting to scale the nearby rocks to get as high as possible. Some good photo opportunities arose as the skies cleared a little, but then just as quickly clouded over again and we decided that it was time to move on.

Another couple of hours walk down the opposite side of the mountain, along another picturesque valley above a river and we reached our lunch destination, Totora (3500m). More delicious soup and another hearty meal had our batteries recharged for the final 90 minute walk to our campsite for the night, the town of Ccollpapampa. There we met up with some other hikers coming in on the Salkantay trek, my first sighting of other Gringos in 4 days! Day 6 was over and it was certainly the  longest and one of the most challenging, but also the most picturesque and peaceful days of the trek. The rain set in a little earlier and heavier than what we'd come to know as normal, so the small huts at this more popular campsite were a welcome relief to sleep in for the night once our regular card games had finished up.

So we were now 6 days down, with 3 to go, and the worst was now well and truly behind us. Days 4 to 6 were tough, tougher than I expected, but not so tough that anyone in reasonable shape couldn't do it. From this point it's all about looking forward to Machu Picchu, and some of the fun stops along the way - hot springs at the end of day 7, and zip lines on the morning of day 8. We were nearly there now...

Cachora - Machu Picchu trek. Days 1-3

I'm a little bit different. I like doing things the hard way and receive an enormous amount of satisfaction from attempting any sort of physical challenge, as evidenced in earlier blog  entries with a run around the top of a volcano, and a backflip from an 8m platform. Succeed or fail, I like to push myself to physical limits. It was for this reason that I went against the grain when selecting a trek to do in Peru. The traditional 4 day Inca Trail is tough from all reports, but 500 people complete it every day, of all shapes and sizes, young and old. 'How hard could it really be?', I found myself asking without really knowing the answer. But I wanted something different. I searched the net for alternatives and found a few other 4 and 5 day treks finishing in Machu Picchu. Less popular, and at least as challenging, now I was getting somewhere. Then I found it, a 9 day, 8 night adventure, taking in more ancient Incan ruins than just Machu Picchu. Not offered by many tour companies, I booked a spot on this trek starting March 15 there & then.

Fast forward a few months, and I was incredibly excited about this trek, especially once I got to Peru. Two days before the trek started I was scheduled to meet my guide, and when the first thing Abel asked me was 'You're a little bit crazy, right?', I knew I'd made the right choice for me!

It turned out that the other people who had pre-booked this trek had since cancelled, so I was the only tourist! There's not a lot of information about this trek or the sites we visited along the way available on the Internet, so my next few blog posts are going to be a rather detailed account of the journey from my fairly unique perspective. Hopefully it encourages more people to challenge themselves and give this trek a go. It really is worth the hard work.

Day 1 started with an early (5am) start. The plan was to catch a bus from Cusco to our starting point, the town of Cachora, a few hours west. Local political protests meant the the road beyond Cachora was blocked, and as a result no bus companies were operating that route on that particular day. A few phone calls were made and soon enough we bundled myself, Abel, our chef(!) Esterio, and 9 days worth of camping equipment and supplies into a taxi to make the 3 hour journey.

I'd been warned that along the way we'd see many landslides, but still I was blown away by just how many there were. Coming from the relatively flat country of Australia, a landslide onto a major road is a pretty big deal. Here in Peru, it's an everyday (multiple times a day) occurrence. It seemed that every 2 or 3 kilometers there would be what I would call a major landslide, where traffic on the road is significantly impacted, and at least a small offroad detour is required. 4 or 5 of these bigger sites had bulldozers and trucks working to clear the road, but it appeared to be a losing battle. Between these major landslides was any number of small ones, sometimes it seemed that every hundred meters there was a car sized deposit of rocks on the roadside that had been dislodged from above either by rain, or the 'natural' environmental impact of cutting a wedge into the mountain to make a road. A winding and at times treacherous 3 hours later we turned off the main road and headed toward Cachora. Popping quickly over the top of the mountain and descending into the nice green valley on the other side, I noticed this side of the mountain seemed wetter, and wet dirt roads mean one thing, more landslides. It was only a few minutes before we came to a point that we couldn't pass. Locals said gradually, over a couple of weeks, this huge section of mountain above the road had slowly been slipping, then all of a sudden it gave way, completely covering about a 30m section of road and enveloping a house or two on the other side. We had no choice but to unpack the car and lug everything to the other side by foot, where another car took us the rest of the way to Cachora (only about 5 minutes).

By now it was lunch time and I had a head full of memories already, we hadn't even started the hike yet!

After lunch we met our horseman and his 3 mules, who would helpfully carry most of our supplies so we didn't have to, certainly necessary considering the amount of stuff we had for 9 days. Now I really felt like I was really doing my bit for Peru's tourism industry - 3 men and 3 mules on a trek for a single tourist! (These numbers probably would have been the same had there been another 2 or 3 tourists).

Off we started walking out of Cachora, along a mountain track next to what started as a pretty small little stream. The first hour had a few waterfall and landslide crossings as we went up maybe a couple of hundred meters fairly quickly. The track then widened and flattened out for a couple more hours of steady but not steep uphill walking until we reached our highest point for the day. By now the small stream we started next to was a roaring river 1000m below us, having been added to by all the waterfalls we'd crossed and merging with other streams coming in from between different mountains. The sound of the rapids churning was only bettered by the views of the huge mountains we'd been walking amongst.

Still struck by the sheer number of landslides we'd come across, looking across the valley back towards where we'd come from gave a good indication of the difference in magnitude of the 'manmade' landslides, caused by cutting into the mountain, and the natural ones, which were much, much bigger. Pondering these natural landslides gave me my first mind blowing moment of the trek. How many thousands (millions?) of years have these gigantic mountains been here, only to get to a single instant in time where a massive chunk weakens and falls down creating a new landscape? The world is a big, old place, and I'm so fortunate to be here exploring this extremely remote and unique place that is The Andes!

From the highest point for the day it was about another 1.5 hours down to our campsite for the night, at 1800m above sea level. A few more tricky waterfalls to navigate, but in general the descent was fairly dry and rocky. All in all about 17km covered on day one. 11km of pretty easy uphill followed by about 6km of fairly quick descent. Campsite for the night was a place called Cacerio Chikisca, and it's actually a 'community' where a few people live, and make bugger all money selling drinks to the few trekkers that come this way. On arrival we drank sugar cane juice, an alcoholic beverage made from sugar cane (duh) that tasted and smelled like a plastic bag of apples left to ferment and turn to a liquid in the sun. Surprisingly delicious though (I didn't think of that comparison until AFTER I was finished!). The rain set in for the night soon after dinner, so it was early to bed to get ready for day 2, the hardest day from all reports.

Day two was another early start, breakfast soon after sunrise and on the move at 630. The itinerary for the day involved making our way down the to river, crossing the bridge and then walking steep uphill for a few hours to our lunch spot, then continuing on to the Choquequirao (easiest pronounced 'Chocky-kira') ruins by mid afternoon, with time to explore one half of the site before dinner time. A full day!

The descent of about 600m was much the same as the previous afternoon, a dry, rocky mountain track, zig zagging quickly down the mountain in parts, and winding down and around more gradually in others. Landslides and small waterfalls again a prominent feature of the 35-40 minute trip to the river at the bottom.
I was pleased to see a sturdy looking, relatively recently constructed bridge, as this was grade 4 or 5 type rafting river, no chance of crossing on foot. The power and energy in the raging torrent was easy to see, and hear. Once across, it was up up up. We'd been warned about one section in particular where there had been recent landslides, and to move through that section quickly. That was motivation enough for me to push through any desire to stop or slow down. Once you start seeing rocks the size of microwaves, and bigger, strewn all across and around the track you're walking on, you realise how helpless you'd be if there was ten or more of these things tumbling down the mountain towards you. The track zig zagged up the mountain so we had to traverse this precarious landslide section 6 or 7 times. I tried not to stop the entire way. Once past the particularly dodgy part the track got even steeper, still traversing up the mountain, it became a real mental slog. Most of the time I found myself looking straight down in front, only occasionally glancing up to see how far away the next turn was, which was never more than 5 or 10 meters. After an hour and a half of this uphill business it was getting really tough, physically now as well as mentally. My quads were cramping and I found the only way to push through was to count my steps. 350 was my first count between rests, these were small steps, one foot in front of the other. Right, now I had my goal, from now on I couldn't rest until I'd done at least 350 steps. I'd focus on the bead of sweat rolling left and right on the frame of my glasses with each swaying footstep and just trudge forward, ever uphill. This tactic actually worked and before long Abel was saying its just 10 more minutes to the top. I turned and looked at him and asked if this level of exhaustion was normal at this point of the climb. 'Yep' was his one word response as he also struggled for breath. So on I pushed, Abel constantly just a few steps behind, I figured he must have been doing it a lot easier than me. It was 10:15 when we finally reached some flat ground at our lunch spot, Marampata, my shirt was dripping with sweat (there's a video of me wringing it out!) and Abel collapsed forward onto his knees and assured me that what we'd done wasn't actually normal, and usually groups get to this point closer to midday, you know, lunch time. We'd climbed 1700m in a little under 3 hours, and I was pretty proud, not to mention exhausted, at this point.

Some bonus rest time ensued before lunch, then it was onward and upward to Choquequirao. Another hour and a half and we could see my first glimpse of Inca ruins. From across the valley there's two distinct sets of terraces, 15 to 20 six foot high evenly spaced walls stretching across the sheer face of the mountain, making some flat ground for the Inca's to plant crops in. Facing east for plenty of morning sunlight, combined with the rain in these parts, plus the extraordinary aqueduct system (which we couldn't see just yet), I imagined this site covered with all sorts of fruit and vegetables back in the day.

It still took another half hour to wind ourselves up and around the valley before we actually got to the ruins site. In this time we past maybe 15-20 workers, issued with the task of uncovering and restoring this enormous site.

We finally reached the top part of Choquequirao around 2pm, and it was immediately breathtakingly stunning. Starting at the top of one of the agricultural sections, these terraced walls were even bigger than what we'd seen before. 10 feet high and perfectly straight, still, after 550 years. Corners as square as you can imagine, everything just perfect. Moving on up the hill to what's assumed to be the royal houses, things get even more breathtaking. Bigger, straighter cut rocks, and less mortar distinguish these buildings from the surrounding terraced walls. The time and patience required to shape and carve these rocks so perfectly straight to make such walls is simply mind numbing. Small by today's standards, but these grand two story houses were obviously built with such perfection for someone very special. Small details that would have eluded me had I not had Abel were things like windows almost always being in groups of 3, likely representing the 3 animal gods cherished by the Incas - the serpent, the puma and the condor. Little things like that, and the fact that ALL windows and doors had a trapezoidal shape, slightly narrower at the top than the bottom. The attention to detail was unlike anything I've witnessed in person before. Absolutely amazing stuff.

We continued down the mountain a little to the sun temple, again a smallish rectangular room perfectly constructed from huge, perfectly shaped stones. The angles here were probably some of the sharpest I saw, and again the trapezoidal shapes of windows and doors wowed me. By now many, many dozens of photos had been taken, and it was beginning to get dark, with rain threatening so we had to be quick in exploring the terraces on the east side of the mountain that we'd seen earlier from across the valley. Full of energy, we ran downhill to these sections in about 10 minutes (the Choquequirao site is huge and very spread out over the mountain). The size and scale of these terraced walls was even more amazing up close. The stairs between levels were so steep it felt like if you leaned forward too far you'd topple hundreds of meters down the mountain. Now we got to see the incredible aqueduct system in more detail. From the very top of the mountain it runs all the way down to here, splitting and diverting water to different areas, and to each and every terrace in this section. Most definitely this section was used for agricultural purposes. There was also another small section that I thought looked like an amphitheater, nearly semi circular terraces, getting bigger further up the steep incline. Possibly for performing, possibly for public addresses, possibly for more agriculture, the truth is we don't actually know much about this historical site, and there's so much more to learn about the Incas. Whether we'll ever know exactly what all this stuff was used for remains to be seen.

So there ended day 2, it was a slow ascent back up to camp, much slower than the ten minutes it took to get down! In all we covered about 14km of hiking to the Choquequirao site, and then probably another 4 or 5 exploring it for a few hours. An incredibly tough day that lived up to the hype. Physically and mentally challenging, it left me tired, hungry and pretty dehydrated, my water intake nowhere near what it should have been considering the physical exertion I'd outputted. Another fantastic dinner, followed by some card games, then the rain set in for the night once again.

Day 3 started with a well earned 8am sleep in. I awoke feeling pretty average from the dehydration and resolved to drinking a lot more water that day! The Peruvian horseman, chef and guide seemed to get through the days drinking no more than four cups of tea and maybe one bottle of water. I don't know how they do it, but I now know I certainly can't get away with doing the same.

Lacking energy I was glad to hear that day 3 was a pretty easy day. We spent the morning exploring the west side of Choquequirao, where there was even more terraces, and once again, hundreds of 'steeper-than-work-safe' steps. These terraces were different though, each terrace had a llama built into it, sometimes two! 4 or 5 feet high, out of a different white rock to the rest of the terraces, these 24 llamas all faced the same way, and provided a mystery to the whole place that hasn't been able to be solved just yet. What exactly went on here? This isn't natural llama territory, so why here, why llamas on the walls? Whatever the answers, these walls were pretty cool to look at from afar. We made our way around the mountain a little bit to a really good vantage point, took some photos, yelled out into the mountains to hear the echoes, and just sat and took it all in for a while.

It was on this third morning that we saw two (yes 2!) other tourists exploring Choquequirao. For anyone who's been to Machu Picchu, it's an incredible feeling walking around one of these sites with it pretty much to yourself. A few workers here and there, and even less tourists, I'd highly recommend seeing Choquequirao before it inevitably gets over overrun by tourism in the next 5, 10, 25 years, who knows.

Moving on after having lunch at the top of a cliff overlooking kilometers of nothing but massive green mountains and hearing the roaring rivers connecting below, the rest of day 3's journey was an easy downhill walk to camp for night 3. This campsite was yet another set of Incan terraced walls, less spectacular than Choquequirao, but equally mystifying. What went on here? Who lived here? There was one small structure, most likely a house, in the middle but other than that it was just terraces, a few hours walk from Choquequirao. This site was also probably cleared by maintenance staff only once or twice a year, giving some idea of just how quickly these ruins can become overgrown by the surrounding high jungle, and what sort of condition early 20th century explorers would have stumbled across them in. How anyone managed to get to these places without the reasonably well worn tracks used today just astounds me. Any journey to these parts would easily take 4 or 5 times longer than it does today, as they would have to be cutting through thick vegetation the entire way. Mind blowing stuff once again.

Camping atop one of these terraces gave us an afternoon basking in the sun, and bathing in an original Incan bath. Waters that had flowed down from somewhere at the top of the mountain are diverted to this point once again by an aqueduct system and sprout out from one of the terraces, giving me the opportunity to shower in icy cold Andean water, crystal clear, and good enough to drink. I did just that, a lot, finally getting back to a more normal level of hydration and feeling good, ready for day 4...