Peru

Of all the faces from back home, Mitchell's was about the last I expected to see. I've known Mitchell for literally my entire life: he was born one day before me, in the hospital bed next to mine. And tonight, 21 years later, I bumped into him in the bar at Loki, here in Cusco. Actually, it was he that recognised me. Anyway, he's almost at the end of his trip: he's already been here for a while, and he was in Europe and North America for a while too; and soon he's going back home.

Jack and I met each other briefly at Loki last week, and then we both went on a hike (on different ones) to Machu Picchu. Now, we're both back. By amazing coincidence, we're also both away for roughly the same 12-month period, we both have similar trip plans (or lack thereof), and we both get along really well. I've been hanging out with Jack this weekend, post-Salkantay; and I'm sure it's not the last time we'll see each other on this trip. Because Jack's a champion.

The 5-day Salkantay hike, from Mollepata to Machu Picchu, is the biggest thing I've done so far on my world trip. It's also the biggest hike I've done so far in my life. All up, the hike was an overwhelming success. There were a few bumps and hurdles along the way; but in the end, they were nothing that spoiled the trip, and they were everything that made the trip, and that made the story of this part of my journey. After having finished the hike, I feel (unsurprisingly!) very tired, but also very satisfied.

In the classic postcard shot, you can see the city of Machu Picchu in the foreground, and a spike of a mountain rising up steeply behind it. That mountain is Wayna Picchu. It's popular, although challenging, to climb Wayna Picchu as part of one's visit to Machu Picchu. From the top, you can explore the ruins on Wayna Picchu itself, and you are afforded a pristine and panoramic view of Machu Picchu, which is spread out below. After our tour of Machu Picchu, three people in my group (myself included) made the ascent to Wayna Picchu.

This morning, after an exhilirating sprint up the mountain, we finally made it to the grand finale of the Salkantay hike, the Lost City of the Incas itself, Machu Picchu. The place may be overrun by tourists; but really, when you get there, you can see why so many people go out of their way to visit this place. Putting aside the history, the romance, the mystery, and the culture, Machu Picchu — city and surroundings — is without a doubt one of the most stunningly gorgeous places I've ever visited. Our guide, Feliz, was good enough to give us a tour of the ruins.

There are three ways up to Machu Picchu (that I know of): the 3-day Inca Trail hike; the shuttle bus from Aguas Calientes; and the walking path that more-or-less follows the road up, from Aguas Calientes. We chose the latter option. Started at about 5:30am (up at 4am), and the quicker among us (myself included) were at the top by 6:15am. They estimate that it takes about an hour. Boy, it feels good when you get to the top, all hot and sweaty, and you see the sun rise over South America's most famous landmark.

It's the national drink of Peru. It's bloody strong. And it's bloody nice. I already had plenty of it in Lima, in shot form; but tonight in Aguas Calientes, I had it as a cocktail. Vodka-like spirit, mixed with a kind of lemon juice concoction. Nice and tasty. And, of course, perfect preparation for tomorrow's dawn ascent to Machu Picchu.

One of the things I resolved to do after leaving Mexico (as you may recall) was to waste less money, and to sacrifice less brain cells, on alcohol. I figured that going on adventures, and getting out of the big cities, would make this easier. Well, it hasn't quite turned out that way, on the Salkantay hike. I've been on a mission of virtual abstinence from alcohol the whole trip. But absolutely everyone else in my group — especially the Belgian Front — has had the exact opposite mission. And they've taken it upon themselves — "for your own good" — to render my mission a failure. They seem to have succeeded.

This afternoon, train track trek is exactly what we did, in order to walk from Hidro Electrico, to tonight's haunt of Aguas Calientes. It literally was about 3 hours straight of walking either on or right beside the train line that goes (almost) to Machu Picchu. Long, tedious, and a bit risky when we had to jump off the track to make way for an oncoming train. But it got us there.

Unless we're just having really bad luck on this hike, landslides must be as common as Llamas here in Peru (and that's pretty common), because we've just encountered two in two days. However, yesterday's encounter — on the way to Santa Teresa — was nothing compared with today's, on the way to the Hidro Electrica. Today's was big, it was dangerous, and there was no getting around it. Uh-huh, es correcto: today we had no choice but to walk through a landslide.