Very far up a mountain, eight hours from anywhere, sits an old lady. She has one eye fixed on her small herd of llamas, and the other on us. Three times a week, a small group like ours passes by on the 42 km trek towards Machu Picchu - huffing and puffing onwards at high altitude. The old lady wants to know if we have some coca leaves for her, and of course we oblige. Its the least we can give for a glimpse of life high up in the Andes.
Our four day trek was tough going, crossing mountain passes up to 4,650m above sea level and camping out in sub-zero conditions. There were seven of us walking, alongside Aldo, our guide, and a team of cooks, horsemen, and Raul - or 'Yellow Socks' as he was known, for no apparent reason.
This isn't the most popular way to get to Machu Picchu (the famous Inca Trail gets booked up a year in advance), but the reward is in getting to walk through isolated valleys where life doesn't seem to have changed much for centuries.
The children we met along the way lived on farms - having to walk an hour to school, where they are given an education only until the age of eleven. Most speak a little Spanish, but the main language up the mountain is Quechua, showing little has changed here since the time of the Incas. Its hard to know what they must make of the trekkers who make it up here, all clad in expensive walking gear and woolly hats.
Our four day trek was tough going, crossing mountain passes up to 4,650m above sea level and camping out in sub-zero conditions. There were seven of us walking, alongside Aldo, our guide, and a team of cooks, horsemen, and Raul - or 'Yellow Socks' as he was known, for no apparent reason.
This isn't the most popular way to get to Machu Picchu (the famous Inca Trail gets booked up a year in advance), but the reward is in getting to walk through isolated valleys where life doesn't seem to have changed much for centuries.
The children we met along the way lived on farms - having to walk an hour to school, where they are given an education only until the age of eleven. Most speak a little Spanish, but the main language up the mountain is Quechua, showing little has changed here since the time of the Incas. Its hard to know what they must make of the trekkers who make it up here, all clad in expensive walking gear and woolly hats.
Our final day started with a 4am wake-up, so that we could climb the thousand steps that lead up to the ruins of Machu Picchu as the sun rose. Determined to make sure we were among the first to arrive, Aldo started overtaking other walkers, leading to even more huffing and puffing than usual. But, once again, the reward was worth it.
It isn't hard to see why Machu Picchu is considered one of the new wonders of the world. Perfectly carved stones form temples and palaces long since abandoned since the Spanish invasion in the 16th century. The more recent tourist invasion is yet to spoil the atmosphere - although the site is apparently sinking slowly. Glutton for even more punishment, we walked the extra 90 minutes up Huyana Picchu. From there we could look right across the valley, catch our breath, and see just how far we'd come.
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