Wake-up call: 4:15 in my hostel, which my roommates loved.
Altitude: From 2380 metres (pshhhh.... nearly sea-level) and gently upwards to our campsite at 3550 metres.
Emerge from bunkbed. Take backpack. Put on hiking shoes. Sleepwalk out into the darkness. Get on bus. Travel two hours. And arrive. Arrive in a beautiful, intensely green valley from which our 13 member-strong group departed for our Four day trek to the famed Incan citadel. But honestly, as marvelled as I was by the scenery, the agency astounded me. We had more than 20 porters, mostly from the mountain town of Pisac, to carry bags stuffed with pans, tents, food and chairs to provide us with total luxury for four days. It wasn't the tough idea of trekking I had envisioned. According to new regulation, each individual porter can "only" carry 25 kilos perilously on his back. As the average height seems to hover around 1 metre 55, seeing the men zoom up the windy slope is awe-inspiring. We could never possibly complain once we saw their stamina and strength. Or their sandals-- very few of them had hiking shoes. This was the first hike our guide undertook since Machu Picchu reopened on April 1st. I asked him what he and the porters did during that painful period. "took a holiday in the Carribean," he dryly replied.
We hiked for about seven hours through sloping valleys, visiting ruins and villages along the way. The Inkan Trail felt more like a highway initially-- there were about three other groups sharing the path with us, and numerous stands providing trekkers with chocolate and water. It was a lovely, easy way to begin the adventure...
Our group, muscles still unworked.
Lush valley.
Amassing quite a collection.
Little girl and her baby, no, wait, dog, who we met along the way.
Ruins. Ain't nothing compared to what's next...
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