It's 100 years since the first westerner 'discovered' Peru's Machu Picchu, and millions have followed the Inca Trail since. But there is a remoter, crowd-free route to the fabled ruinsIt isn't the tumbling view of the valley, as it vanishes into a blanket of mist that has our undivided attention. Or the boys from nearby Quishuarani village as they play football on the school field like it's their first ever game. It is Mr Repolito, the school headmaster, who has us hanging on his every word this mid-autumn dawn, in a brightly painted classroom 3,700m up in the Peruvian Andes."Allinmichallamun, welcome," he beams, sizing up his students: 22 trekkers, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, eyes glued to the blackboard. With Smithy, our Peruvian guide, acting as translator, we repeat after Repolito as he reels off key words in Quechua, the language of the Quishuarani villagers, and of their ancestors, the Incas.Over the next three days we will be delving deeper into the mysterious world of the Inca empire, overthrown by the Spanish conquistadors in the 16th century, as we follow ancient Inca trails through the Sacred Valley. Our final destination is to be the "lost" city of Machu Picchu, built in around 1450 for the Inca emperor Pachacuti. It lay undiscovered by the Spanish, or any other westerners, until being unearthed by American explorer Hiram Bingham in 1911.Like Bingham, we are heading off the beaten track. We aren't following the 200 tourists who embark on the classic Inca Trail each day, through the Machu Picchu national park. Instead we are taking a remote 40km trail through the Lares Valley, tailormade by UK adventure specialist Dragoman and local tour operator Andina Travel. Having flown into Cusco, we've driven 83km north, via the Inca ruins of Sacsayhuam�n and Pisac, to Quishuarani, where we camped overnight in the school field.From here, we walk: to Cuncani village, our base for the second night, along high mountain passes, ending in Ollantaytambo, where we'll take a two-hour train ride west to Machu Picchu for sunrise. OK, so we will miss out on that monumental moment of walking through the Sun Gate, a pass located two miles above Machu Picchu, where hikers on the classic trail first set eyes on the citadel. But we all agree it is a sacrifice worth making ? for the lack of crowds along the way and because on this trip we get to give something back.Dragoman and Andina run a community-based project assisting the villagers of Quishuarani and Cuncani with everything from building greenhouses to reforestation projects which have gradually been incorporated into the trek itinerary. Before we set off we spend three hours doing volunteer work (this will eventually be a full day). While half of us paint Quishuarani's newly built school toilet block bright red, the rest carry armfuls of rocks across the field to help build a new wall.Although it's only a few hours' work, Mr Repolito says it is important: "Our school, and village, have been transformed."A percentage of money generated from the trekkers goes straight into the communities, to pay for doctors and dentists to visit thrice yearly, to sponsor new teachers, and to pay for a bus to take older children to the high school.I would love to stay longer, but we have a steep, scraggy trail to climb. It's 8km to Cuncani, six hours of walking. After six minutes I'm puffing: the lack of oxygen at this altitude causes the heart to beat faster. The answer is to walk at snail's pace. Gradually, our group ? aged from 18 to 68, and hailing from countries ranging from the Netherlands to New Zealand, all relatively fit ? spreads out as everyone finds their pace, Smithy's co-guide William bringing up the rear. Behind us, llamas and mules carry our bags, led by porters from Quishuarani. Every couple of kilometres we regroup to refuel on muesli bars and take in the view: far-reaching mountains, peppered with weatherbeaten rocks, coarse grass and little else ? a staggering but harsh beauty.And it's quiet; there's not a soul around. Since Dragoman and Andina launched the first organised "alternative" Inca trail through the Lares Valley in 2004, hundreds of other companies have followed suit, offering more than a dozen routes ? a handful of which have grown to be almost as popular at the classic trail. But not this one. "With our help, the Quishuarani community established this area as a private reserve two years ago," Smithy explains. "Most companies try to operate these alternative trails on the cheap. They don't want to pay the five nuevos soles [around �1.20] per person to pass through, and for extra llamas to carry their rubbish, so we basically have it to ourselves now."We climb higher and the temperature drops. I negotiate boulders the size of beer barrels, relying on my walking stick like an extra limb, and think of the chasquis, or "runners", who would dart like the wind along these trails delivering messages throughout the Inca empire. Working as a relay team, stationed at 6-9km intervals, they could pass a message 2,000km in just five days.As we reach the Uchuycasa pass at 4,400m, with its sweeping views of several sacred snow-capped peaks (the Incas worshipped the mountains as gods, believing they controlled the weather), I get a raging headache, like a bad hangover. It lasts until we get to Cuncani (3,700m), where the porters have set up camp by a river.I'm not the only one suffering. As we huddle together in the communal tent for supper (quinoa soup, beef with carrots and mash, chocolate pudding, courtesy of our "Inca mummy" Walter), half of the group have their heads in their hands. Altitude sickness. The cure? Coca leaves. Regarded as "the divine plant" by the Incas (the only accessory ever carried by Pachacuti was a coca pouch), they increase the absorption of oxygen into the blood. I drink eight cups of coca tea in quick succession. It works.But I'll need more than coca leaves to conquer the Pumahuacasa pass, the highest point of our trek at 4,800m (600m higher than the classic Inca Trail goes). After walking uphill for five hours, past vast glacial-green lagoons, grazing alpacas and towering rock formations, my muscles are burning and it take every ounce of determination to reach the top, marked by a quirky-looking Jesus statue. I stand next to him, beaming, arms outstretched.It is later that night at Paccha ? a stunning wild camping spot surrounded by tall leafy polylepis trees ? as we celebrate with a carton of red wine and games of Ambitious (a local dice game, Smithy's favourite), that someone mentions Machu Picchu. We've scarcely talked about it; now we know it's just a day away.And it is after a four-hour walk past beautiful waterfalls, as we board the bus for the short drive to the living Inca town of Ollantaytambo (where people still dwell in Inca buildings), that we hear about the Machu Picchu train strike. It has something to do with water supplies and will last two days, apparently. In three days, the group is scheduled to continue to Bolivia. "We can wait until Thursday and try for a train, or," Smithy pauses, "we walk along the train tracks."A flurry of excitement ensues. Someone whoops. Another bellows something about "a once-in-a-lifetime experience". They are right ? the train carries up to 3,000 tourists a day to Aguas Calientes, gateway to the citadel. Those stuck in Aguas Calientes will have already visited the site. We will have it almost to ourselves.After hours of deliberation, we decide: the group will split. Those whose sorry feet can walk no more will stay in Ollantaytambo in the hope of catching the train on Thursday (they succeed). The rest of us will walk, for 28km, along the sleepers.We rise early. The train post reads 82km; Aguas Calientes is at 110km. Smithy leads the way along the gravel-covered tracks, the rapid Urubamba river to our left, dry cactus-strewn hills to our right. 90km. 95km. 100km. With every kilometre, the landscape surrenders more of itself to lush forest, and our anticipation grows. Then, at 104km, we spot the spectacular Inca ruins of Wi�ay Wayna and the excitement really sets in. With a glint in his eye, Smithy tells us how in 1928 the railway was built over one of the principle Inca trails. The trail that Bingham allegedly walked to the lost city all those years ago.The suspense the following dawn is overwhelming. The 30-minute bus ride from Aguas Calientes, where the train track ends, to Machu Picchu feels like a lifetime. As does the five-minute walk through trees to the citadel. Then, finally, we see it: sprawling ruins clinging to a steep mountainside. There are cheers, hugs, even tears. We've made it. And it is magnificent. I have seen many images of the citadel, but to have it right in front of me ? the mist-cloaked Wayna Picchu mountain towering behind like an apparition ? blows me away. Not even the usual tourist crowds (there are none) would distract from its beauty, its drama.We take our time, wandering past the Temple of the Sun, a semi-circular tower showcasing Machu Picchu's finest stonework, and the Intihuatana, an enormous granite sundial, before one last walk, up to the Sun Gate.Bingham may have rediscovered Machu Picchu, but as we watch the sun rise over the ancient city, we feel like we're doing it all over again.PeruWalking holidaysAdventure travelGreen travelNicola Iseardguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2011 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
No comments:
Post a Comment