Preparing to depart, Our Gang, The Trail, The Dutch Girls
Tuesday, September 22, 1998
A good night's rest ended abruptly at 6am. Magnus, Annette, Paul and I awoke and readied for our unknown guide to arrive at our hotel. Thirty minutes late, a large bus pulls up and on we go -- scrutinized by the other 12 passengers. Magnus looked disappointed and I knew what he was thinking -- complete and utter lack of "talent" on the bus.
Our guide failed to introduce himself. We did our best to meet some of the other passengers, but a very bad reproduction of a very bad Phil Collins tape blared through the very bad speaker system and made conversation difficult if not impossible.
Finally, at the last moment, talent arrived when we stopped to pick up Sabine and Chris, henceforth referred to as the "Dutch Girls". Magnus smiled. I smiled. All the guys on the bus smiled. The Dutch girls smiled back. Magnus smiled some more. Annette rolled her eyes.
About an hour outside of Cusco, we stopped for breakfast and for the guide to hire a cook and get some provisions for our trip. Magnus, Paul, and I just happened to end up at the same table as the Dutch Girls. I wonder how that happened? Anyway, they were actually pretty nice. Everyone was really excited for the hike.
Back on the bus, we rode about another hour or so. The bus got a flat tire, but since there were four tires for each backside, the driver saw no reason to stop. An unbelievable racket from the tire made everyone a little on edge.
Finally, the bus stopped. "This is Kilometer 77. This is the end of the bus ride, unless each of you want to pay 5 soles more. If you do, then the driver will take us to Kilometer 82 -- the official start of the Inca Trail," our guide said, still having failed to introduce himself... We groaned. So much for an all-inclusive fee. Still 5km is 5km and I hoped our group would be sensible and pay the man. Luckily, it didn't take much convincing.
About this time, the unnamed guide caught a glimpse of our beer -- 24 of them. "So much beer!" he said. "Shhhh..." the four of us said in unison... Still the others heard and were definitely envious of our outstanding idea. Well, maybe we'd share a few beers with the Dutch Girls...
At the end of the road, literally, we all debused. Time to pay the driver. I Roshambo'd Paul and lost... Our now introduced guide, Romelo, said "You teach me on Inca Trail." I'd be happy to oblige, I thought, I'll double you up on your tip you're probably not going to get.
Backpacks on, straps buckled, extra porter ready with the extra provisions, Dutch Girls close by, we started to walk at around 11am. I've never hiked with a loaded backpack before, and I was not happy at the weight on my back. But, hell, it's hiking the Inca Trail on a Tuesday in September -- life could be worse.
At 1:00, we stopped for lunch at a local village. I played with some school children and gave them a quick English lesson -- one, two, three... They taught me Quecha, the native language of the Incas... u, iskai, quinsa, tahua... I noticed that nearly all of them had small little blisters and scabs on their cheeks -- a combination of sun, wind, and cold burn.
Lunch confirmed our worse fears -- there would not be enough food. I'm a big boy and I like to eat a lot of food. The avocado salad we were given I hoped was the appetizer. Nope. Main Course. OK -- I'll eat a Snickers bar we had the extra porter carry, I suppose.
After lunch, we hiked for another 15 minutes and came to our first real Inca ruin on the trail -- LLACTAPATA. The guide, Romelo, gave us a quick history lesson. It's an old fortress of some sort and was very impressive. He then pointed the way to the first camp some two hours of hiking up to approximately 3000 meters (9840 feet) ASL.
At 4:30, we arrived at the WAYLLABAMBA camp site.
12 kilometers (7.2 miles) of hiking. All with the now very heavy
backpack. Almost 1000 feet in altitude gained. I settled into
camp and read for a few minutes before making a startling discovery.
Seems the tour agency booked us as a group of four. A group of four is given 1 tent -- and not a large tent either. I looked inside and could barely manage to believe that two people could be comfortable, let alone four! The group made fun of us, and I was genuinely upset. Romelo, using a line we'd hear over and over, said "I'm just the guide. The tour agency is responsible." Well, this was not going to cut it. I told him to ask around the other camp sites for another tent. He apparently thought this was a good idea (duh) and off he went. An hour later, he brought back a tent he borrowed from a local villager. Case closed, except that he had to give it back tomorrow...
After an insufficient dinner of chicken and rice, we popped a beer much to the dismay of the others in the group. Well, sorry guys, but there just aren't enough to share right now... The four of us drank our beers away from the group in order to avoid controversy.
It was quite, quite cold after the sun went down. I decided to try out my recently purchased Alpaca Parka (try to say that ten times in a row quickly...) and was the laughing stock of the group. At least I was really warm. I loved the Alpaca. After a bit of small talk amongst the group, it was clear that we needed some entertainment. We weren't quite yet ready for bed at only 7...
So, I suggested team trivia. "But we don't have question cards," was the group response. No problem, I thought, I know some trivia and I'll just be the MC. It was a definite big hit. Geography, Music, History, Literature, Science, Nature, etc... I pulled out some very obscure questions from the recesses of my brain and scored big points for the quality of the US education system. I stumped the group several times and I think they were genuinely impressed with the diversity of my knowledge. We played boys against the girls (girls won a slim victory). We played England and Ireland versus the rest of the world (the rest of the world stomped them). It was quite a bit of fun, especially for me, I think.
We all went to bed around 9 after a quick Roshambo tournament to determine who would sleep in Annette's tent. I "won" and the two of us settled into the very small tent. About midnight, I was startled by a flying elbow to the forehead -- thanks, Annette!
Wednesday, September 23, 1998
A 6:30 "shake up" call and a quick
inadequate breakfast preceeded a 4 hour 30 minute hike straight
up a mountain to the top of our "first pass" called
WARMIWANUSCCA. At 4200 meters (13,776 ft) ASL, the air was incredibly
thin and it was definitely freezing cold. Alpaca Parka, glove,
hat were a necessity and the envy of the group, despite how funny
they looked. I stuggled the last 45 minutes or so. I met a nice
American father/daughter team with HUGE backpacks -- Andrea and
Bob were quite the duo. We stuggled along for sometime together
and reached the summit at around noon.
After some celebratory photos and a snickers bar, we headed down to our lunch stop a few minutes away. After that, it was back with the packs and down again to PACAMAYU. 12 kilometers more of hiking, most of it in brutal cold and high altitude. My feet were sore, and I needed a break.
After a quick nap, it was time for dinner. I inhaled the food and then Magnus and I had them cook some of the extra stuff we'd brought along. Good thinking! Then, I decided to fill up my water bottle from the local stream. Of course, I carried my Professional Water Purifier, quite the envy of all. But, it broke. Magnus, in true MacGyver-like style, says "hey, let's see if some of the silicon sealer I brought with me will fix it!" Yes, indeed, Mr. Industrious brought his very own tube of silicon sealer with him... Well, it was a valiant effort, but it didn't quite work.
After dinner, everyone just sort of looked and me as if to say "so, what's the entertainment for tonight?" I stepped up to the plate and started us off with a very funny game of charades, boys against the girls. Playing charades in a We Are The World group is an experience. I must have laughed for 10 solid minutes when Sabine, trying to act out "New York" did the "sounds like" thing and then got down on all fours and squealed like a pig... Pork, York... I am disappointed that despite Sabine's poor effort the girls stomped us 25-18...
Off to the tent at around 9. Tonight, however, I lost the Roshambo -- Annette was my tentmate. Seems like I complained a bit to vociferously about the elbow to the head and she was no longer a desirable tentmate... Loser got Annette... With a little cold she had developed, I thought I was sleeping with a malfunctioning jet-aircraft engine. Her snores were reportedly heard as far away as La Paz, Bolivia. I slept very little.
Thursday, September 24, 1998
The first hour of the day was almost straight
up. My legs hurt. I was malnourished. I didn't get much sleep.
It was a very difficult start. The summit was freezing again,
so much so that it almost required the Alpaca defense.
The ruins came more frequently the closer we got to the end of the day. A very impressive fortress, SAYACMARCA, became visible about 4 hours into the hike. A truly disturbed group of new-age fanatics were practicing some strange Tai-Chi looking ceremony up there... Different Stokes, I suppose.
After yet another four hours of hiking through
a rain forest ecosystem, we reached WINAYMAYNA, a very large terracing
and agricultural station for the Incas. We all collapsed on the
lawn at the bottom and dreamt of the hot shower that would soon
await us at the campsite only 30 minutes away... Our guide pointed
to a group of Peruvian guys playing soccer just a few hundred
meters away: "You want to play for beer?" he asked.
Sure, right, 8 hours of hiking today and now I'm supposed to get
up and play soccer...
The Dutch Girls jeered us and called us wimps.
Well, I'm no wimp, and I somehow convinced the guys to give it
a shot. Just two ten minute halves -- 20 minutes of exertion.
What we didn't realize is that the Peruvians could easy have been
in the World Cup. We lost 5-1, and I'm happy to say that the 1
goal we got was mine -- at least the offical scorer would have
given it to me -- they actually scored on their own goalie by
mistake, but I was the closest player to the ball. GGGGGGGOOOOOAAAAALLLLL
USA!
We finally made it to the campgroup at around 5. By now, no one would even think about sleeping in the same tent with Annette, so I was stuck again. I had a quick shower (yes!) and then headed off to the bar where Magnus and the gang were waiting. We drank a few beers and congratulated ourselves on a job well done. Machu Picchu is only a two hour walk away -- all relatively flat. We could do that. Basically, we'd conquered the Inca Trail and we were ready to celebrate.
Once again, we were served dinner which I supplemented with another dinner I ordered from the kitchen. Ron, a very friendly Israeli in our group, announced that it was his birthday. Being the one man entertainment committee, I led the group in Happy Birthday. Just by chance, I asked the Dutch Girls how it is sung in Dutch. They sang. Annette then sang in Norwegian. Magnus in Swedish. Two French girls in French. Some Italian guys. So other Israelis near our table. Romelo the guide in Spanish. A porter in Quecha. All in all, Ron had Happy Birthday in TEN different languages. Impressive!
After a late, late night of 10:30, we all went to bed. Lucky for me, Annette was quiet and threw no more elbows.
Friday, September 25, 1998
Our 5am wake up shake was not effective. We got another at 5:30 and were late for breakfast. Oh well, I probably wouldn't have liked the pancakes anyway...
I was wearing clean clothes for the first time in three days and it felt good. We were off for the two hour hike to Machu Picchu. Well, yesterday's 16 kilometers were difficult on me and I was very unsteady. I was relieved to arrive at the INTI PUNKU Inca guard gate in one piece. Unfortunately, the supposedly remarkable view of Machu Picchu was obscured by a persistent cloud cover. We waited it out for almost 45 minutes until it cleared and we say the graceful outline of the ruins with HUANCA PICCHU (another mountain) in the background. It was startlingly beautiful.
The next hour of walking went quickly. We were drawn to the promise of seeing the famous MACHU PICCHU and by the prospect of a snack bar at the inevitable tourist office nearby... We weren't disappointed in either.
After checking our backpacks, we were led on a very imformative tour of the grounds by our guide, Romelo. He showed quite a bit of enthusiasm today -- probably because tip time was coming up...
I wandered around by myself after the tour for almost 2 hours. But, then I was exhausted and headed back to get a drink and to meet the rest of the group. Just outside the snack bar was a local touting the "Helicopter Cusco" ride from Machu Picchu back to Cusco -- a 25 minute ride. I took the brochure and pondered it, but the $80 seemed a bit expensive and I was sure that no one else in the now strongly-bonded group would want to take it...
At lunch we were informed that there were no tourist train seats left back to Cusco. The only option was the "Locals" train -- a 5 hour journey with standing room only. Suddenly, the helicopter seemed a more viable idea and Paul stepped up to the plate and asked if I still had the brochure. Ten minutes later, we were booked on the 3pm ride to Cusco -- the 14 others were clearly envious. I felt guilty. But, I rationalized it by saying that I'd never been in a helicopter before and what better time than in the Andes near Machu Picchu... They didn't really buy it...
Paul and I settled back into the luxuriously
appointed seats and enjoyed the very scenic 25 minute ride back
to Cusco. Best $80 I ever spent. The views were just unbelievable.
Back in Cusco, we settled into a new hotel, napped, had a quick snack and then waited for Annette and Magnus to arrive at 9. They arrived and wouldn't even really talk about the miserable train.
We met the entire group out at an Irish Pub, Paddy Flaherty's, at 11. On our way there, we miraculously ran into Polly and the Crackers from Arequipa! We made plans to meet up with them later. The gang drank a few pitchers of beer, exchanged addresses and such, and then most of us headed to Mama Africa's some Disco. Polly and the Cracker now in tow, we partied there until around 2. Once again, Polly and the Cracker performed amazing feats on the dance floor... The group, now down to just the hard-core-party-people, was impressed.
The adventure was complete -- the Inca Trail, a long-time goal and fascination, was complete. Now, what next? I spent the next couple of days in Cusco determining just that... It's time to head South to Lake Titicaca and then Bolivia! Unfortunately, my very good friend Magnus wanted to do the Manu jungle in Peru -- we said a very hearty goodbye. I'll miss his company a great deal! Such is the life of a traveler -- make great friends, travel and make memories, and then say goodbye...