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Other entries in Machu Picchu

Inca Trail and Sunrise over Macchu Picchu

Leaving Ollantaytambo, we arrived at KM 82 - the starting point of day one of the Inca Trail. At kilometre 82, hundreds trekkers of varying passport affinities - bundle off the train. Clear skies and a bridge across bright water seem like good omens. The Urabamba roars the sound of its own name, and our trek begins.

We're greeted by our four guides and thirty three porters including chef, assistant chef, cooks, head waiter and waiters. After having our passports stamped at check point, we set off on the trail, in late afternoon setting up camp at 3,000m above sea level at Huayllabamba after an 8km trek. The next morning the porters shook our tent door, after unzipping the door cover we found three porters waiting with a tray of assorted hot drinks.... one porter holding the tray, the next pouring your selection and the third handing your drink to you, they even left two bowls of water and soap for us to wash our hand at the side of the tent.

An excellent breakfast was served in a marque type tent with long tables and stools set along the entire length, there was enough seating for all thirty one of us. Today, we're allowed to commence the trail at our own speed. At an altitude of 4,200m, our goal was to walk approximately 16 km's to Dead Woman's Pass and then descend down to the next campsite at an altitude of 3,500m at Pacaymayu. With a cigarette in one hand, I was like Dot Cotton climbing Dead Woman's Pass. For hours we climb around the side of the sky; sometimes ducking through the roots of a damp, lichen-clad forest; at other times out on clear alpine pastures beside streams of glass before reaching Dead Woman's Pass. It was an achievement to reach the Pass and then a race to campsite. A small group of us reached campsite in 3 hours and 53 minutes, it's supposed to take 6 to 7 hours..... just in time for an early lunch. The last person reached camp just after 5pm.

The campsite was set in a beautiful v-shaped valley with white fluffy clouds surrounding the mountains below us. As dawn approached and the temperature began to drop, the clouds would converge onto the surrounding sides of the valley. We'd all stand there and watch as the clouds would come in, just like the tide and waves on a beach, slowly desending on the trees and getting closer to the camp site and eventually covering us in a dense and cold blanket of cloud, and suddenly the temperature would drop by some 5 - 10 degrees..... then all of a sudden the clouds would recede, revealing an awe inspiring sunset on the distant glacial and snow capped mountains reflecting an orange glow on the snow cap.

By sunset, we're ready for our happy hour, which was basically a lighter version of tea time. After huddling together and feeding off each others warmth, we'd play card games until it was time for our three course even meals.

On day three, and like every other morning wake up call with the porters providing drinks at our tent, we woke to the most wonderful sunrise and clouds surrounding the mountains nearby, we look down from our tents upon a sea of mists and mountain-top islands. We set about on a two hour up hill climb to Runcu Raccay, perched on a rock platform overlooking the Inca Trail, as it has done for at least five centuries. At an altitude of 3,900m, every thirty metres or so we have to pause, breathless, to catch more oxygen. Reaching the top we're greeted by the most breath taking mountain scenery, behind us, the valley we'd climbed out of is a deep wedge of air driven into the earth. The cathedral-spired shadows of the mountains tumble over us. At the very top I built a little rock formation with my offering to the Inca gods with a glass pebble to top it off, later only to find that someone had stolen my glass pebble or had the gods liked it so much that they had to have it?

Mists sweep up from the valley floor in fantastic explosions of vapor. A short, steep climb brings us to the next pass. Avoiding the plummeting drop of thousands of feet demands our total concentration. At the top, we begin a descent down the easy switch-backs of the original Inca Trail. The path is now paved in hewn stone blocks, placed as steps, which remain in almost perfect condition, 500 years after they were laid. Strolling along on them is a welcome break from clawing up cliff-hanging trails and homicidal passes.

Continuing the journey around the ginger-olive softness of the jungle floor, gleaming in the sun, seems to belie the savagery of the canyon's heights. Over its rim, a cataract tumbles, seemingly from the clouds, to roar down dark rocks and cascade away into an impenetrable sponge of jungle - the Pacamayu wilderness where, we are warned by our guide, there are poisonous snakes, black bears and no trails. Arriving at Phuyu Patamarca where our chef had a three course lunch awaiting us. From here we made our descent to Wiñay Wayna..... our next campsite...... passing through even more micro climates as the Canyon behind us drops away in a dark twist.

That evening we thanked our team of porters and guides with a celebration dinner, where we made thank you speeches and tipped our team of hard working porters and guides. After that it was a case of early to bed and early to rise the next morning on day 4, our last day, of the Inca trail. It was an ultra early start, as we want to catch the best view of Machu Picchu at sunrise. After leaving the campsite at 5am we passed through the control gate at 5.30am. I find myself standing on a top-of-the-world pass with nothing on either side but silver air. To the east, shadow-shrouded mountains rise in untraceable and complex patterns of peaks; a thousand metres below is the silent curve of the Urabamba's silk skein.

The Inca Trail drops into a forest of moss-furred trees. As the altitude decreases, wild flowers and birds emerge by the side of the trail. We walk out onto the shoulder of a hill, and straight back into the twenty first century. The only tree on the opposite ridge is a high-voltage power pylon striding up from the hydro-electric station on the river far below. Arriving at the Sun Gate at 5.45am, with stone walls netted with roots and a carved rock gateway at the last pass, where we were greeted by our first glimpse of a mist covered Mount Machu Picchu. After taking several photographs we descended further for a further 25 minutes to reach our goal, the fabulous city of Machu Picchu.

With our four day mission over, we jumped onto a bus and drove for fifteen minutes to Aguas Calientes. A small and humid town with the feel of a frontier town, we headed for Pachamama restaurant and joined other weary backpackers resting up and celebrating their treks along the Inca Trail over cheap eats and cheaper beers. It's probably not a place you'd want to hang out for long, though, we're just killing time before catching the train back to Ollantaytambo, followed by a bus journey to Cusco.

The train arrived dead on time, the old pistons wheeze out an eponymous pant - "machu-picchu-machu-picchu" - as the train inches up a series of switch-backs towards the Valley of the Inca's, then ramps off into the bright Andean sky with the sun setting behind us.

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