Over 4 days we trekked the Salkantay Trail - the most physical exhausting experience of my life. Bearing in mind that when I originally arrived in Cuzco (about 3500 metres) I got knackered walking down the street, on this trail we reached a maximum height of 4650 metres. Every single step at that height for me was a mile at sea-level - someone literally transplanted my legs with some fat tubes of lead overnight. To my disgrace Em was alright with it and shamefully beat me to the top. Damn.
Throughout the scenery was spot one, and it varied dramatically. From mountain glaciers and snowdrifts to tropical jungle to barren grasslands, all very impressive. And when the sun comes out at that altitude its proper George Michael whereas when it goes in, its well brass.
On the second night in jungle conditions myself, Jimmy (our guide) and 2 top Irish lads we met on the way had a match against some locals. Finished Europeans 3 -3 Peruvians at the close which we were happy to take as we were playing at altitude and hadn´t yet "jelled" as a team. Yours truly got 2 including a left foot volley. An absolute screamer.
Mam, close your eyes for the next 2 paragraghs.
At one point on the forth day we had to cross a river. Now in Peru this is no mean feat, even in the dry season. The method of getting across was more like an Alton Towers ride than a legitimate river-crossing. On first seeing the little basket run, I thought I had a better chance swimming, but then saw 2 crosses by the riverside where apparently 2 kids had drowned in the river recently. Hmm. Bit scared. Turned out alright in the end though, in spite of the amount of crap the locals load in there (anything from live chickens in bags to 5 humans at a time).
After our brief brush with death, we endured a further on-edge experience - a truck-ride through Satan´s lair. Basically, we got in a truck with ALL the people who´d spent the last hour coming across the river with us, and all their goods. So I was sat perched 3 metres from the ground on the side of a speeding vehicle with my arse resting souly on a piece of wood 2 inches wide. As we "cruised" through the jungle, you had to duck every now and then so as not to be hit in the face by branches. I seemed to learn this early on but Em got slapped in the face a few times by leaves - was highly amusing. It was a crazy experience, but I think it was worse for 3 french girls who you could only just see under all the aforementioned chickens-in-bags. They love there health and safety here.
Anywho. After walking for 3 more hours along a train line where only one train threatened a fast steely death, we arrived at our final desination, Aguas Caliantes. This town exists souly to house, feed and care for the thousands upon thousands of tourist that visit Machupicchu everyday. From here we were to get the bus up the hill the next morning. It was a shameful place, it looked like Disneyland. All the buildings looked to me constructed out of fibreglass and I fully expected a parade led by Mickey Mouse to pass me by. Not at all the Peru I had previously seen. The roads were paved and the buses were cleaned at least once a day for goodness sake! Madness.
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