The Alternative Path to Machu Picchu

  Machu Picchu, Cusco, Peru
Monday, June 11, 2007

Salcantay Mountain Pass - The Alternative Path to Machu Picchu


Ask anyone what they know about Peru and you´ll probably get the classic response "err... there´s llamas... the incas... oh yeah and that really old city... what´s it called... Machu Picchu"
I guess, before coming to Peru, the Inca trail and Machu Picchu were the things I had greatest expectations for.  I just hadn´t realised I´d be a part of it quite so soon into my journey...

Read any guide book about living at altitude in the Andes and without exception they´ll all advise that you take it easy for the first week or so. ´Just hang out in cafes and definitely avoid strenuous exercise.´ This is all very well but what these books don´t take into account is that I´m travelling with Rowena - one of my top three craziest friends from university. With the backing of her two friends Jenny and Sarah, there was no negotiation and within twenty hours I was in a white water raft on the Urabamba River wondering how the hell I´d got there. Despite saying over and over to Row that I wouldn't go, I eventually buckled and it was actually a really good laugh and it was only later that I paid the price. My third and fourth days in Peru were spent lounging around the hostel feeling nauseas with barely any energy. I tried to combat this ´man-flu´ by drinking copious amounts of coca tea - a herbal concoction used for centuries by Andeans to alleviate altitude sickness which, despite being scientifically untested, is actually really good stuff and it started to drag me out of my stupor.

As soon as you start researching the Inca trail you soon realise just how popular it is amongst travellers and just how difficult it is to secure a place on it. None of us had been organised enough to place a booking, so instead we signed up to one of the many alternative treks to Macchu Picchu. The one we settled on - The Salcantay Mountain Pass, has an extra day to the official trail and the trekking is apparently more difficult. It was now Thursday and the trek began on Saturday so it was a race for me to recover.

I must admit, it was a real effort to drag myself out of bed at 4 am on that first day. We were joined by a couple from England, a French couple - both PE teachers, and three Australians of the outdoorsy type. Oh and our guide Javier was nicknamed ´Fisai´ - ´the fast one´ so needless to say, they were all a lot fitter and faster than we were and we knew it was going to be hard work to keep up.
Despite these early fears the first day wasn´t quite the daemon I´d anticipated. It was one of those days when, because you´ve barely slept, you´re shattered and you never quite wake up. Your legs never quite realise the pain they´re in - until the next day that is.
The first night of camping was at sub zero temperatures so we had our dinner huddled together in a little tent. In the head-torchlight, our guide Javier introduced us to his religion ´Patcha Mama´, basically a celebration of mother earth and all the elements within it. He explained that the following day, we would conduct a small ceremony on Salcantay Mountain. We would collect rocks at the base of the mountain and then carry them to the highpoint of the Pass where we would construct a small structure from the rocks and offer coca leaves to Pacha Mama. He also said day two was going to be really tough, so with this in mind we all retired to our tents by nine.

At the start of day two my legs actually felt like cold metal rods that would never work again. Unfortunately, staying wasn´t an option and we were on the path again by seven. After an initial one hour ascent we reached a plateau at the base of the mountain pass and Javier invited us to select our rocks for the ceremony (as if the climb wasn´t going to be hard enough already!)
The following two hours were easily the most testing of the whole trek and I genuinely believe it was only the chewing of coca leaves that prevented me from collapsing. After two gruelling hours of pure ascent we finally reached the top and there was a communal collapse of bodies.

Sarah and Jenny flaked out on Salcantay Mountain

Twenty minutes of groaning followed until we finally summoned the energy to conduct our little ceremony to Pacha Mama. Javier arranged the stones in a pyramidal formation and laid atop the bitten ends of our coca leaves.  The idea is that you accept the coca leaves as a gift from mother earth but give a little back as a sign of appreciation before exiting the pass. I don´t know whether the Big Mama heard us but the afternoon seemed a lot easier than the morning. Having said this, it was still an incredibly long day and we didn´t arrive at the campsite until about six in the evening. By this time everyone was knackered and we opted for an even earlier night than the previous one.

Throughout the trek, despite being literally in the middle of nowhere, we were spoiled with incredible food ranging from traditional Peruvian chicken dishes to a full Chinese buffet on the final evening. All the food was served up by the incredibly smiley chefs, who were probably carrying twice the weight we were and always seemed to start cooking as soon as we arrived at the campsites.
The only problem with having such vast amounts of varied food at altitude is that your digestive system slows right down, and so one by one the trekkers fell victim to ´trekker's stomach´. Personally I think I got the roughest deal, as my tent-mate, an Australian guy called ´Tappy´ revealed to me that he suffered from Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Don´t worry, I´ll spare you the details but let´s just say it´s amazing how quickly you get to know people when trekking. It´s also amazing how quickly you can talk openly about bowel movements with somebody you´ve just met.
Anyway, at this point, I´ll stop talking about digestion.

By now, our emphatic entrance to Machu Picchu was only three days away and there was definitely a buzz to the group. Javier had told us that our final day´s trekking would commence at four am so we could enter the ´Ancient Mountain´ in time to see the sun rise.

Blood on the tracks

Day three involved another early start but it seemed to be getting easier. I think we were all adjusting to this new way of life - simply walking all day and completely flaking out in the evenings. In fairness, our life was made a lot easier by the workaholic chefs who also erected our tents for us each night.
Days three and four could well have been combined into a super-hard-core single trek but fortunately this wasn´t the case and instead, we had two moderately `easy´ days. On day four we cheated slightly by starting the day with a forty five minute minibus journey. I thought I may be able to grab a cheeky cat-nap but any hopes of this were soon shattered as it was forty five minutes of careening around mud tracks and river-crossings and all the time a medley of 80s B-sides blasted out from the bus's speakers. I had one of those moments of clarity, of which I´ve had quite a few over the past few weeks - ´How the hell did I end up here?? On this crazy mini bus in a crazy forest in the middle of the Peruvian Andes! This is really happening, this is madness!´

Day four was definitely the best day so far. As you skirt around the base of Macchu Picchu, you can just about make out the edge of the citadel up in the sky. The landscape is truly incredible and you begin to understand why the Incas chose this obscure backwater in the heart of the Andes.
As darkness fell we arrived in Machu Picchu pueblo, previously known as Aguas Calients because of it´s proximity to natural hot springs. We were going to hit the springs but after four long, tiring days everyone was well and truly ´agotado!´ so we opted for a beer in the plaza instead. We sat, watched some local kids blow up some insects with bangers and discussed how we were going to cover the whole of Macchu Picchu in one day.
Tonight was the night we bid farewell to our tireless chefs. With all the treks these guys do, you may have thought they´d be a bit bored of the rigmarole but they put on an amazing last supper followed by a little speech to say how much they´d enjoyed walking with us. It was obviously all a bit emotional for everyone and we all went to bed early.
Tomorrow was the big one, we were to watch the sun rise over South America's most famous archaeological site and I needed sleep!

I won´t pretend waking up at 4 a.m... Again! was easy but we all knew we had to get there in time for sunrise. There was an option of taking a bus to the ruins, but no, Javier thought he´d subject to yet another gruelling seven hundred metre ascent. It was seven hundred metres of steps and as put by Kerry our Australian trek mate, it was ´an absolute killer!´. It was alright for Row, as a tour guide from another group offered to carry her bag for her. Did he expect something in return? Hmmm... me thinks probably.

We reached the top around five thirty and were greeted by the sight of coach loads of tourists streaming into the citadel. We wasted no time and with our sweat-drenched T-shirts and heavy breathing entered the final city of the Incas.
We were really lucky because the sky was perfectly clear so we were going to witness the perfect sunrise.

The money shot

As you stand inside Machu Picchu and watch the sunrise over the Temple of the Sun it just doesn´t seem real, it´s like being inside a photograph.  This view is only surpassed when you climb the peak of Huayna Picchu on the northern side of the site and look down at the city nestled into the panorama of the Andes. It´s an incredible place and it´s only really afterwards, once you´ve left Machu Picchu and look back at the photos that it really sinks in.