I woke up around 545 and packed my remaining belongings. At 6, as expected, the hostel´s doorbell rang. I thanked the owner, with whom I had reserved my room again for the 25th, and left a note with her for a Brit I had spent the rainy night before talking with in the lobby but didn´t get the chance to say goodbye to.
We took a cab down the stilted cobblestone streets and it became clear that my decision to previously walk everywhere was a good one. The cab dropped us off by a really nice luxury bus, and I was the first tourist on, predictably because of my location in San Blas above the city. We set off to pick up the rest of the group.
After taking a circuitious route around the city we ended up with 13 tourists on board -- one, Juan, was the first I met, an Argentine who spoke 5 words of English. We were to be tentmates for the next three nights and much smiling and nodding took place.
As we left Cusco we climbed onto the top of the Andean highlands...approaching snow capped mountains. It was breathtaking -- mist swirled around as we dipped and climbed lush green hillsides before descending into the Sacred Valley, from where we would depart on foot. We travelled through Urubamba and arrived in Ollantaytambo where we were informed we had 20 minutes to buy last minute trinkets. Stupid as I was, I did nothing but sat in the city square (plaza de arms) and soaked up the sun. If I was smart I would have walked to a hostel, made a reservation for the night of the 20th (since I was planning on coming back here after anyways) and dropped off the majority of my weight for them to store in the interm. Instead I was hiking the Inca trail with all my belongings, and it quickly became apparent that I was carrying way too much weight.
We hopped back on the bus and drove for anouther 45 minutes to the start of the trail where we were given snacks for the day and set out. We took a group shot at the entrance and I got double for my money since a donkey walked infront of the group on the first go with my camera.
We entered through a "control" -- just a checkpoint to make sure we had passports and were registerred to do the trail for that day. The quotas now are quite strict. I got through second and in 5 seconds, the guy hardly looked at my passport and stamped my ticket. I crossed a bridge over the wild Rio Urubamba (pictured) and waited as instructed by Javier, our guide. I ended up waiting a long time, since one girl had left all her documents on the bus. We laid in the sun for an hour and half or so before finally beginning our trek.
We hiked five hours the first day, and while I managed to keep up with the lead pack for the first four, I began to redline afterwards. We stopped briefly for a pretty gross lunch, soup, pasta, coca tea, and grape drink. The quality was bad but I wasn´t expecting anything good so it wasn´t a disapointment.
After lunch our entire climb was uphill and it began spattering rain. I began thinking things like "why did I pack 4 books?" "why did I pack a metal chain bike lock?" and "why did I pack a tent!?". My pack was heavy. I had also not paced myself for the first 3 hours and began a gruelling uphill climb through redline, both aerobic and lactic.
The terrain could be worse, but not by much. The majority of the trail, if not mud and rocks, is Incan cobblestone, and slippery when wet. By the time we reached base camp the first night my calves and quads still had some juice, but my hip flexors and glutes had absolutely bottomed out. Of course, I had decided to wear jeans and a longsleeve for the first day, which I sweated through profusely. I laid on the ground of Juan and I´s tent for 20 minutes without moving while supper was being prepared. Its hard to say how much I was carrying, but it was certainly closer to a porter´s weight than a tourist. I would say atleast 60 pounds. In later days when my packed was soaked it was heavier, of course.
Javier had noticed the weight and politely mentioned to me that day 2 one had the opportunity to pay a porter to take one´s main pack. I gratefully paid the next morning, knowing that day 3 and 4 I would have to repeat the feat of day 1 on much harder parts of the trail. Since the person who arranged my tour described the first day as easy and acclimatizing I honestly didn´t know if I was going to make it at one point of the first day. I had gotten in great shape from last summer until November, but had taken most of December and early January off. I was still in good shape, but obviously not my best. Meanwhile my fellow tourists were carrying their five pound day packs around looking fairly smart.
Hiring the porter was a no brainer -- not only did I not have to prove to myself I could push myself physically but I also could get the full white man colonizer experience.
Dinner was of similar quality and after meeting and talking with the only two other English speakers of the group, Christy and Shawna from Oregon, I collapsed in my tent. It was around 730pm.
No comments:
Post a Comment