We chose Llampath to support our trek along the Inca trail because they are eco-friendly, pay their porters a decent wage, and provide suitable clothing. But the 4.30 am start suggests the company’s not so concerned about the tourists – ouch! Christi and I also hire an extra porter to carry our gear (everything except our cameras and water bottles). We like to think we’re providing extra work for the locals, although others may argue we’re just darned lazy. They could be right.
Our route out to the Sacred Valley this time is along a deserted single lane track through the mountains. As the sun rises, we see sublime scenery and ruggedly attractive Quechuan villages. We eat an early breakfast in the otherwise deserted town of Ollantaytambo (the tour buses don’t arrive until the afternoon) and then we’re off again. This time the road follows the famous Urubamba river, a headwater of the mighty Amazon. We reach the trailhead at 9am and suddenly we’re no longer alone. This is summer and the Inca trail is packed with hikers. (Note during the northern hemisphere summer, the Inca trail is so inundated with tourists that daily limits are imposed to avoid destroying the trail and ruining the experience).
We begin our Inca trail experience with a group photo under the eponymous sign. Christi and I then begin ambling along the Urubamba river. There’s no reason to rush, because there’s nothing to do at our campsite. The beauty and the majesty of the trek is all around us (high mountain peaks, glaciers, and Inca ruins such as Patallaqta, which looks as if giants have been lobbing boulders at it) and we walk pole pole (slowly slowly as they say in Kiswahili) attempting to absorb and embrace our surroundings. Of course, this being the Inca trail, the terrain suddenly becomes steeper and the high elevation taxes our lungs (so much for the easy first day promised by our guide, Flavio). Our porters, by contrast, canter past in their bright red outfits, carrying 55lb. packs on their backs (I feel so inadequate). We watch them disappear out of sight, knowing that when we finally reach the campsite our tents will be up and a meal will be waiting for us. We hike about 14 km today, reaching our campsite (Ayapata at 3,300m / 10,826 feet), exhausted, at 4.30pm. Thank goodness for those fleet-footed porters.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of love and test tubes.
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