Walking with clouds

A Cusco morning

Heeding all the guidance prior to my arrival I'd allowed myself three days to adjust to the change from sea level in Rio to 3,300m in Cusco. 

Cusco, as the former capital of the Incan empire that once stretched across five countries along the western side of the continent, was once the greatest city in South America.  With the arrival of the Spanish in 1532 and the eventual defeat of the Inca’s the temples were replaced by cathedrals and Spanish style influences are today evident through the historic city centre.  That and a weird version of the market economy that seems to dictate that in each of these touristy destinations  around the globe there shall be a minimum of five shops in a row on each street selling the exact same poorly made wares.

Like most I was in town to visit Machu Picchu, the famed lost city of the Inca’s that the Spanish never managed to find and was only rediscovered from a western perspective at the start of the last century.  The Inca Trail is by far the most popular way to hike your way to Machu Picchu, however due to its popularity access is now limited through a permit system and I was about two weeks out of kilter. As such I’d instead chosen the 3 day, 46km Lares Trek that my travel agent in Melbourne had advised was an easier alternative and takes you through Andean communities, with a focus on their traditional practices and application of the surrounding flora and fauna. This seemed pretty much on the money for me, a bit of a hike with a nature focus and then Machu Picchu at the end.

After a briefing the night before we were picked up early and driven for quite a while to our starting location of Quishuarani at 3,800m. The Inca Trail has a daily limit of 200 punters plus 300 support crew of porters, chefs and horsemen, so 500 all told from various adventure firms.

The first sunny morning there were four hikers, including myself, on the Lares Trek, Daniel and Gretchen a couple on honeymoon from the US and Canada respectively, and another Aussie, Ben, who constantly reminded me that a certain age you not only feel bullet proof but have the energy and stamina to continually prove to the rest of the world that you are. We merrily set off after our invaluable guide, Eder and then met our support crew of four, a chef and his apprentice and two horsemen for the packs.

Over the course of the next few days the support crew would prepare our meals, clean up and then pack all their cooking gear, their and our tents and then jog past on the trail laden with their gear to reset it all for when we arrived for lunch or dinner. An impressive feat, but one that also highlighted the disparity between our lives and it felt odd when we were clapped into camp at the end of the day, given they’d just done the same and more.

Saying this I don’t think I’ve eaten so well, at least for the first two days, on my travels to date. Each meal was a three course feast based on locally sourced ingredients, such as trout for lunch for the second day. We’d sit on one side of the cooking tent as the chef and his apprentice would hand the meals over the modesty curtain for our devouring.  During these times and during the trek our guide Eddy would often provide insights into the varying ingredients and the significance they have played in the lives of the Andean communities over the past centuries, as well useful information such as the Quechua (indigenous language used by those in the Andes) word for Andean gigolo. 

At one point he noted that the Inca’s and their descendents in the Andean communities have over 2000 varieties of potatoes.  This struck a chord as I’d heard the almost exact information a week or so earlier in Rio at one of the side events hosted by La Via Campesina. This sparsely attended side event lamented he continual and organized dilution of fruit and vegetable species offered in the modern western world. From an estimated 7,000 known indigenous peasant species, only125 species are generally offered in the western world and that the patents for the genome technologies for these species are held by six large corporations. The consequence of this is to increase the susceptibility of our food supply to climatic change and reduce the biodiversity of agricultural areas.  The speakers were advocating for a return to indigenous farming practices and a move away from industrialized agriculture. There arguments were compelling when individual plot comparisons were displayed, but there seemed to be an elephant in the room in terms of the volume of food required to continually feed the global population.

Back on the trail I was relishing the breathtaking scenery that was unfolding, from craggy outcrops, to waterfalls, mountain lakes rolling hills and the soaring glacial mountains. The first day passed without incident as we hiked over the Huilquijasa Pass at 4,200m and down the other side to our camp for the evening.

Arising in the darkness the next morning, day 2 was set to be the longest and hardest, trekking over three passes, the highest of which the Aurora Casa Pass took us to 4,600m, 400m higher than the Inca Trail. This ascent after lunch sorely tested Daniel and I and Eddy had to bring out his magic elixir a liquid cross between tiger balm and Vix, to assist us up the final 100m or so.  Ben on the other hand, as per the previous days ascent, sensed our weakness and basically jogged up the final incline, even more impressive given he’d declined the porter and was carrying all his own gear.

That was literally the high point for me for the next 36 hours or so.  Pitching our tent and preparing for dinner it was apparent Daniel was feeling under the weather and declined dinner.  I devoured as per my usual an entre of popcorn and then chicken, rice and veggies dinner.  Retiring early I awoke after a while feeling decidedly queasy.  Fighting the feeling I eventually gave in and delivered a combination of popcorn, chicken and anti-nausea tablets back to the earth. The temperature by this stage outside the tent was below zero, and even in this nauseous state it was hard not be impressed with the still mountainous surroundings lit by the moon on a starry cloudless night.

Aurora Casa Pass - The last smile for 36 hours

My motions had roused Ben from his sleep and he thankfully threw some Imodium my way. I didn’t sleep again that night as I then ran hot and cold, although mainly it was my feet I couldn’t get warm despite three pairs of hiking socks and a minus 10 rated sleeping bag. As I rocked back and forth trying to sleep in the tent I was dreading the four hour, 14km hike the next day.

In the morning it was apparent that Daniel’s night had been even rougher than mine, and it will certainly be a honeymoon night he remembers for a while.  Eddy tried to assist by providing a range of Andean teas, the final aniseed one breaking me again and causing me to clear the contents of my stomach. I

It had been so cold overnight that all water left outside had frozen and Eddy thought it to be around minus 6. If ever there was a picture of misery it was Daniel and I stood outside the tents that morning rocking back and forth to try and keep warm, while fighting waves of nausea, with my toes gradually turning numb, while jovial breakfast conversation flowed from Ben and Gretchen inside the breakfast tent, a place I dared not enter as the smell of food made me shudder.

We eventually set off on the hike, 2 hikers and 2 human husks descended from 3,900m to 2,200m over four hours.  I had no energy at all and the descent didn’t feel real at the time as I just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Eventually we arrived at our final destination representing the end of the Lares Trek where we all collapsed for two hours for lunch.

The rest of the day we made our way by van and train to Agues Calliente, feeling drained and now tired from the walking. At this point I was eternally grateful to be on the Lares Trek and to be able to sleep in a bed and have a shower before Machu Picchu the next day.

The next morning I was feeing better and the tour provided by Eddy the next day on Machu Picchu was a fascinating insight into a once great civilisation. Our group effectively tried to rebreak Daniel and I by inadvertently undertaking the 2.5hour Gran Caverna hike around Huaynapicchu (the mountain behind Machu Picchu), a hike lovingly referred to as the 'FU Gringo Trek' at the time.

I gained a significant insight into how the Inca’s and the modern day Andean communities used and use the environment around them to not only survive but thrive in the Andes.  An appreciation made even more real by my own experience on the Lares Trek. 

Cusco and subsequent trekking has also confirmed that my family lineage stemming from a temperate, grey, rainy, low lying isle in the Northern Hemisphere has not best equipped me for hiking glacial Andean mountain ranges. 

As per usual I wished that Tony could have lent a hand with my exertions, but unfortunately he's been recently rendered armless and not much use in the Andes.