So I reckon I should re-start where I left off.
The Inca Trail. Something I was quite nervous about....especially as I started making some lovely hacking, phlemy noises in the morning, and I was truely terrified about not only walking for 4 days but tackling it with what I guessed was a chest infection. So having armed myself with medicines, anti-biotics and some good old fashioned British courage (okay so in reality I panicked and cried before going...but I like to make myself sound brave!) off we went.
After oversleeping and running out of the hostel, we boarded the coach and got taken to km 82. The start of the Inca Trail. Having put on my backpack, and seeing all the other trekkers with their tiny daypacks, I started wishing that I had spent the money on an extra porter. Resigned to my fate of walking at the back of the group, we took pictures of our group of 16 then started walking.
The group was nice and mixed, Bill and Heather (Mum and Dad of the group) were 58 and 63 respectively, the 3 Aussies, the 2 Finnish, the 3 northern girls (who brought make up! Seriously. Who feels it is necessary to wear blusher on a 4 day trek? Girls from Burnley and Liverpool obviously! Okay rant over...), 2 other British girls and us 4.
But despite the chest infection, the backpack and the altitude, I found I was never quite at the back of the group...which, with my competitive streak, I was very pleased about. Despite that though I never quite made it to each rest point first or looking as calm, relaxed, fit and healthy as Bill and Heather, or as beautifully made up as the Northern girls...but I don't think that would have been achieved by anyone except maybe Kate Moss.
By the end of Day 1 we had all made friends and happily slept through the night (which sounds weird but at altitude its hard to sleep). It was an easy(ish) walk really, and it was really fun to sleep at 9pm.
Day 2 was the "hard day"...so in fear we all paid an extra £20 for a porter to carry our things, which gave my back the day off it needed, and so carrying my provisions in a Santa-style carrier bag over my shoulder, we tackled the highest part of the trek. At 4200 metres (13770 feet) Dead Womans pass is a mighty climb. Relentless and what felt like a million steps we got to the top before most...after Sheryl and I thought it was a great idea to try and race each other (cue coughing, spluttering and only running 6 ft and nearly collapsing because of the lack of oxygen at altitude! Brilliant!).
Day 3 was another easy(ish) day, and back to carrying my pack. We saw some lovely ruins. I think it was probably this point that I figured out I wasn't really fussed about the ruins...which is a pretty awful realisation when you are on the Inca Trail...looking at Inca ruins. I did, however, realise that I really really like walking - which was a massive suprise to me really. After looking at some ruins we decended through the cloud forest, which was stunning, and I saw my first ever real life in the wild hummingbird. Day 3 was also the great day where we reached the beautiful hot showers camp. It was awesome. I think it was a few pounds but the best few pounds I have ever spent. Absolutely brilliant.
So refreshed, washed and Inca Kola-ed up (as there is a bar at camp 3...sadly my antibiotics did let me get a beer) we slept...for what felt like 20 mins before we had to get up and wait and wait and wait for some entrance gate to open and then run to the Sun Gate. The sun came up, it was nice. It was our first glimpse of Machu Pichuu and if I am honest I was sad. Sad that my lovely long walk was over. But it was lovely and pretty, but I was pretty shattered, as was everyone else. So between our history lesson from our guide, and nodding off, I was proud that I have found a lovely new hobby...walking. Who'd have thought putting one foot in front of the other would be so fun!
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