Salkantay Trek: Day 5 – Machu Picchu

9/25/09 – 2:00am. Aguas Calientes. The alarm rings and rings but my body doesn´t respond. I would rather continue listening to the incessant shrill beeps than lift a finger. The hostel beds are terribly uncomfortable. The only thing worse than the the thin, lumpy mattress is the 30 thread count sandpaper trying pass as sheets.

The group slowly assembles in the lobby at 2:30am, everyone looks like zombies. After four days of nonstop walking over rugged terrain and facing extreme conditions we are exhausted. Add a night without sleep into the mix and we are shot.

Our plan: Walk from the hostel in Aguas Calientes straight to Machu Picchu.

As we exit town there are no street lights, absolutely no light at all. Thankfully I brought a head lamp, as did a few others, which lites the way. We walk quickly in a pack, like a gang of soccer hooligans about to take on rivals, everyone silent but focused. I know it´s cold because when my warm breath hits the cool air it forms a mist in the light streaming from my torch. Fifteen minutes down the road we reach the stairs and stop for a quick break to de-layer in anticipation for the upcoming work out.

Here comes the hard part – 1900 stairs. We scramble up the unevenly spaced stone slabs – some steep, some slippery, all difficult.A road intersects the staircases, creating flat ground perfect for resting. At the top of the first set everyone is huffing and puffing. Ten minutes straight of stair climbing will do that to you. We have another hour of this. Our leader for this section is Oscar, a Peruvian man who doesn´t speak a lick of English. He is small but incredibly nimble. People exasperatedly blurt out ¨despacio¨ (slow) and remind him that we aren´t all decendants of mountain goat/cheetah like him. At times he picks up the pace.

I find it easier to go quicker and rid myself of this torture as soon as possible. Mike, on the other hand, continues along with a slow and steady pace. By the last few sets I am practically running up stairs. Out of nowhere I reach the top. Another group of trekkers is waiting at the gate, but we still arrive early enough to ensure our entrance to Winu Picchu – granted to the first 400 people.

Sitting on the steps, waiting for Machu Picchu to open, I have never been more exhausted. I´m sweating. I have no water. It starts to rain. Keep in mind its 4am and it´s pitch black. Mike eventually emerges from the dark path. We sit on the steps, sure that our legs won´t support should we try to stand. We´re both spent – minds empty and too tired to string together simple sentences. Buses start arriving and before we know it there are hundreds of people behind us. Machu Picchu opens and we receive a stamp for the 10:00am Winu Picchu. There is also a 7 am, but we have a tour first, compliments of Washi.

After a few hours of wandering around and waiting for the fog to disipate we all meet up again for our ¨tour¨. I´m cold, exhausted, dehydrated, dead. We follow around our guide through rain and fog, which masks the entirity of Macchu Picchu.

Listening to Washington´s broken English in the freezing rain after a night of no sleep and tackling those stairs is really starting to annoy me. I just want to eat and get a hot cup of coffee. He shows us a rock that is supposed to make you pregant if you touch it. I touch it, curious if the slab inspired the creator of the movie ¨Junior.¨ Nothing happens. We visit another area where the Incas performed sacrifices. The tour finally ends and we immediately head to the snack stand, only to be discouraged and disgruntled by the prices, which are ridiculous even by Disney World standards. I get a coffee and we huddle under an umbrella.

The weather is god awful. We try taking pictures but we literally can´t see anything because of the fog. The light myst clouds up our lenses. My legs, feet and hips are screaming and there is no way Mike and I can physically hike Winu Picchu.  If I had the strength I would have, but it just wasn´t going to happen. At around noon, after being at Macchu for 6 or 7 hours, we decide that the weather  isn´t getting better so we decide to walk back down the death steps, instead of taking the $7 bus. Jesus, going down is difficult. We take our time and it seems to take twice as long as coming up.

The views clear up as we descend but we don´t go back. We later find out that the weather broke as soon as we left…

Dirty, tired and famished we reach the town again. I buy the biggest bottle of water I can find, chug it, then head to a restaraunt for pizza. It in no way comes close to Jersey/NYC pizza, but it tastes glorious. The combination of dough, hot sauce and melted cheese straight from the brick oven is heaven sent. A little taste of home.

After lunch Mike and I spend the next few hours relaxing in the hostel lobby with a cold beer while waiting for our train. For some reason, our group is split up and we all have different times. When we arrive at the train station, we see a man holding a sign with our names and follow him to a giant luxury bus. Unfortunately we have to wait on the bus for 2 hours while he tries to fill the seats.

We pass out and finally make it back to Cusco around 11pm, the same time we are supposed to meet the rest of the group for a celebratory drink at ¨Siete Angelitos.¨

Up Next: Wait, what are reservations?

Salkantay Trek: Day 4

9/24/09 – 7:30am. Campsite 3. Our tent is sweltering.

I kick off my sleeping bag and ¨What the $”!%?!¨ My legs and feet are covered in painful red bites. I wake up Mike and his legs are possibly worse than mine. After letting out every curse word in the book we hop out of the tent and discover everyone else has the same problem. We have no idea if it was a spider or a mosquito or some other insect, but whatever it was it went to town on us. For some strange reason the bites only cover our legs though.

We quit complaining and walk through ¨town.¨

Moral is low and we don´t have the same enthusiasm and as the bright eyed versions of ourselves three days prior. We really just want to get to Machu Picchu. We walk on a dirt road and quickly grow bored of the repetitive scenery. The highlight of the day is passing a waterfall…

We stop at a train station for lunch. One of the girls woke up with a bad bite on her ankle that swelled up and started oozing puss. Yea, real nice. We ask if there is a doctor in the restaurant but have to settle for a dentist. He eagerly pulls out a travel medical kit and, like the bench warmer who finally gets to play in the big game, he cleans out the wound and wraps it in a fresh bandage.

Unfortunately at this point we have to carry our big rucksacks the rest of the way. Some choose to take a train – for a price of course.  Others try and unload some of their weight to those taking the train. Mike and I say, ¨Screw it,¨ and throw everything on our backs.

A sign tells us we will die if we walk along the tracks but, again, our guide assures us everything is OK.

The train tracks are hell. You either have to walk on loose rocks and risk rolling an ankle or concentrate on syncing your gait to the wooden planks. I choose the latter and go into a zen like trance, focusing carefully on hitting each plank. I start to think that perhaps it was a bad idea to drink the night before.

As we near the town we realize something very important is missing - our guide. Washington finally staggers up to us after an hour wait. He is so hung over he can barely see and is nearly passing out. After chugging some water he starts to come back to life and we continue on. Entering town we see beautiful hotels and again I urn for nice accommodations but instead keep trudging along to our budget hostel.

Mike and I are ecstatic to sleep in actual beds and take a shower. There isn´t hot water. Who cares? The shower head hangs from a cord without a holder and the water barely trickles out. So what? After four days of perpetual sweating and sleeping on hard ground, the hostel is heaven.

At dinner we learn we will be waking up at 2 am tomorrow to ensure we get passes to Wina Picchu, the top tip of Machu Picchu, a privilege only granted to the first 500 people.

Up Next: Machu Pichu