Sharon and Andy's World Tour 2006

Tuesday 12 and Wednesday 13 September

After the exertions of the Choquequirao trek, we were just happy to spend time relaxing around Cusco.

The city - at 3,350 meters above sea level, one of the highest in the world - is surrounded by mountains, and provided the perfect setting for the last couple of days of our brief visit to Peru.

A maze of charming narrow backstreets, bustling with hotels, hostels and travel agencies emerges onto a large and pretty square centred with an ornate fountain,

and bordered by buildings of beautiful architecture.

Happily for us, the square is also home to a couple of decent watering holes...

Rested, recovered and recuperated the time had sadly arrived for us to bid farewell to Peru and move on again.

Thursday 07 - Monday 11 September

An epic, non-Machu Picchu (see last entry) hike whilst in Peru seemed like a great idea at the time. Trawling the local tour operators, a four-day fully-catered hike to Choquequirao - an impressive, intact, but relatively tourist-free Inca settlement situated high on a mountain - sounded perfect.

Friday 08 September

Arriving at the small sleepy village of Cachora on the outskirts of Cuzco, we were introduced to our 'catering' team for the next four days; a chef, his assistant, a horse-handler, and our trusty guide, Ronal.

The Choquequirao Four

As we ate breakfast, our packs, food, tents, and equipment were loaded onto horses which were then briskly lead away by the handler and the chef.

Well fed and raring to go, we headed down Cachora's dusty main street, across a patch of farmland and eventually onto the track to Choquequirao itself. Despite the early start the day was already hot, but the long opening stretch began on level ground before ultimately descending steeply into the river valley where we would camp for the night. We kept a fair walking pace and high spirits. We'd that this trek would be hard, but -hey!- we'd yomped up Ben Lomond in New Zealand with no problems and by comparison, today seemed a doddle... Oh how we'd look back later and laugh (cry) at such naivety.

Anyway, the scenery was breathtaking and the walking was good.

Around midday we caught up with the chef and horses and a surprisingly good impromptu lunch was rustled up using nothing more than veg, rice and a camp-stove.

The afternoon's walk lasted only three or so hours before we arrived at camp, where our tent had already been pitched and our packs were waiting - what service! Within half an hour, afternoon tea(!) was served and then we were free to relax until dinner, when the chef again produced an impressive three-course meal using maximum skill and minimum equipment.

After around seven hours' walking, sleep came easily in the cosy black silence of our tent.

Saturday 09 September

06.45 - breakfast time. If nothing else, we were incredibly well fed on this trek. Breakfast consisted of fresh fruit, bread, coffee and pancakes, plus all the Coca leaves (to combat altitude sickness) we could eat.

Today's walk would be long, but at least began downhill to a river crossing deep in the valley, on the other side of which we would begin the steep climb towards Choquequirao itself.

A straightforward 40-minute walk brought us to the river. Once over the bridge though, it was time to ascend the first mountain. Still early morning, we had lower temperatures on our side and it didn't take us long to realise that we needed all the help we could get.

The path consisted of a steeply ascending zig-zag; the photos don't do justice to the length of each section of path, and as our legs grew steadily more tired those zigs and zags seemed to become progressively steeper...

A mid-morning refreshment stop couldn't have been more welcome, and partially restored by sugary Fanta and Inca Kola we began to climb again. With the baking sun now climbing high, the real slog began...

"But I've only got little legs..."

Distant Choquequirao beckoned, but as the warm afternoon gently passed the apparently endless ascending paths conspired to sap every last drop of our stamina. Stops for water became more frequent, and our pace became more gradual. And then, somehow, miraculously, the climbing ended and the path levelled into a wide sweeping arc between our mountain and the next, where the vast terraces of ancient Choquequirao rose on the slopes far below and to our left.

Progress was easier now, but even with the spritely Ronal urging us on we were both knackered. The crunch came when we eventually reached a fork in the path; a left turn sloped gently down to this evening's camp and a respite for hideously aching legs. A right turn offered a further long, steady climb up to and around Choquequirao
itself. Sharon sensibly opted for the camp, but having come this far I had to go on...

...but this final push was well worth the effort. For my money, Choquequirao is at least as good as Machu Picchu but doesn't yet suffer from hordes of tourists crawling over every inch of it. This then, was the scene as the sun began to sink on day two of the trek:-

Sunday 10 September

Whilst yesterday's triumphant arrival at Choquequirao gave me a wonderful feeling of fulfilment, I was so glad to arrive back at camp, eat another of cheffy's excellent meals and collapse into my sleeping bag alongside an already-snoring Sharon.

Awakening this morning it seemed as though someone had encased our legs in plastercasts overnight! Today, thankfully, was to be the reverse of yesterday's arduous climb. Not to be underestimated, of course; we still had a huge distance to cover, and this time with stiff, aching muscles, but at least it was 90% downhill.

We were shocked at breakfast to see that one of the packhorses had bled profusely from the neck; according to the handler the horse had been prey to a vampire bat during the night. Ugh.

Inevitably, travelling downhill was quicker than climbing although we were still overtaken shamefully quickly by the chef and the horses despite leaving camp a good hour or more ahead of them. The day seemed cooler and as we hit our stride even the tension in our leg muscles seemed to ease. Not being as time-pressured as yesterday we were able to fully appreciate the majesty of our surroundings once more.

In what seemed a surprisingly short time, we were following the path along the river valley to the bridge that would take us over and up to the camp at the end of day three. But as we made that brief climb to camp, warning bells began to sound - and fresh agonies sprang from our tortured leg muscles. This was a one-hour climb; tomorrow we would be climbing solidly for a good five hours...

Monday 11 September

Ronal had been very patient with us; he sensed that we might not be quite as fit as we thought, and so today he cannily ensured that we quickly left camp after a very early breakfast.

What can I tell you about that last day's walk? It was hot, it was strenuous, it was exhausting and it was long. Those steep zig-zags that we had merrily cantered down just days ago now sapped us remorselessly. On the upside, though, frequent rest stops gave more opportunity to admire our surroundings and on one memorable occasion we were fortunate enough to see a magnificent Peruvian Condor in flight.

Slowly and surely we ticked off the kilometers and -after an age- the last climb levelled out. Choquequirao was now far behind us, invisible behind a mountain, and we were back on the long winding trail to Cachora. Sensing the proximity of the home straight rewarded us with a sudden burst of speed, which we maintained right up until reaching the farmland outlying the village; here, Sharon's legs finally admitted defeat. With much cajoling and encouragement from Ronal, we crawled the last few hundred yards into town and stopped. As our ever-conscientious chef produced one final excellent lunch for us, a wave of ecstasy and fulfillment at what we had achieved washed over us - it had been hard, but the trek to Choquequirao formed perhaps the defining moment of our year; we wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Sunset from Choququirao

Monday 04 - Wednesday 06 September

Shunning a further overnight trial-by-bus, we took a morning trip from Puno for the gradual descent into the bustling town of Cusco.

Arriving in the early afternoon on Monday you soon see just why Cusco is so bustling; the place is teeming with tourists eager to make the backpacker's pilgrimage along the famous Inca Trail to the even more famous Machu Picchu.

We were just happy to settle in to our digs here that first afternoon, stepping out in the evening for the customary beer and bite to eat.

Tuesday 05 September

Some time before embarking on our world-journey we'd dismissed the idea of trekking the Inca Trail; firstly, you need to book a place months in advance which would have dictated our itinerary somewhat, and secondly we'd heard from fellow travellers that the 'uniqueness' of the experience was becoming diminished by the sheer volumes of daily trekkers now following the trail.

But of course, you can't come to Cusco and not visit Machu Picchu; and we'd heard that the scenic train journey to the site was a worthwhile alternative to hiking there. Thus we made our way to the PeruRail office and forked over $105US each (ouch!) for the Vistadome (a glass-topped train affording better views) service leaving at 6am the following morning.

With Machu Picchu booked, we were free for the rest of the day to take in more sights of historic Cusco and to return to the Cross Keys - an English-style pub! - for a pint to console ourselves over our prematurely empty wallets...

Wednesday 06 September

We arrived at Cusco station early, supped a quick coffee and boarded the train. Perhaps the expense had been worthwhile; the Vistadome train was spacious,modern and comfortable, and - crucially - the large glass viewing windows were perfectly clean. The four-hour journey was terrific, an ever-changing panorama of mountain and jungle. And then we were stopping...but not at Machu Picchu. The last stop for the train is at a town called Agua Caliente. Here, we were dismayed to find that we now had to pay for entry to Machu Picchu, and also for a bus journey to get us there. Note to self: in future, research these things better.
A trip to the town's only ATM was required but -guess what?- a power failure had rendered it out of order. What now? With amazing presence of mind, Sharon found a money-changer and changed our emergency stash of US dollars.

After a perilous-looking, steep and zig-zagging bus ride up a mountainside we finally made it; Machu Picchu lay before and beneath us.

The steep and winding road to Machu Picchu

And was it worth the effort and expense? Well, see for yourself...

Wednesday 30 August - Sunday 03 September

We spent the last two days of August making our way overland through Chile to the Peruvian border. Pleasant memories of quick, comfortable flights were soon replaced by the harsh reality of two consecutive overnight bus trips. To be fair, the first - from Calama to Arica was uneventful if somewhat cramped, but the second from Tacna to our first proper Peruvian stop at Puno was hellish.

Peruvian folk are small, and bus seating reflects this fact. Okay, so we're used to folding ourselves into cramped seats. More disconcerting was the fact that some of the bus windows were broken, or missing altogether. The devastating significance of this hit us in the early hours of Thursday morning; the outside temperature had plummeted to around absolute zero and we were woefully underdressed. The cold wasn't just uncomfortable; it was painful, and we looked on jealously at the sensible Peruvian travellers cocooned in warm clothes and blankets and sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the two shivering Gringo icicles sat next to them.

Friday 01 September

The bus had been climbing steadily during the night, and as the sun rose and we began to defrost, we caught our first glimpses of magnificent Lake Titicaca - at 3,860m above sea level, the world's highest navigable lake - and shortly after, the outskirts of the town of Puno.

If we were relieved to see Puno, we were positively elated to arrive at the Hotel Conde de Lemos ; despite our early arrival (before 7am) we were welcomed with breakfast and coffee while our room was prepared, and then - after one of the most horrendous night trips of the year - we collapsed into a deliciously comfortable and, most importantly, warm bed.

By the afternoon, we felt restored and emerged into the warm Puno sunshine to take a stroll around town and later find somewhere decent for dinner. A 'turistic' restaurant with an engaging menu caught our eye, but sadly the pricey meal didn't quite match our expectations.

Saturday 02 September

After a further morning's nose around Puno we took a half-day tour to see Sillustani, an ancient pre-Inca burial ground overlooking the shores of Lake Titicaca.

Tower-like tombs at Sillustani

In the stillness of the late afternoon sunshine the ancient stone structures - some desecrated by grave-robbers, others simply unfinished - provided an enchanting landscape.

Travelling back to Puno we stopped briefly at a traditional homestead to gain a taste of peaceful rural Peruvian life;

and as the afternoon drew to a close, the distant skies darkened and we were treated to the sight of a spectacular dry electrical storm, with bolts of forked lightning illuminating the western hills.

Sunday 03 September

And so, to the real reason we came to Puno; Lake Titicaca. Whisked by bus from the hotel to the harbour at 6am, we were on the lake in time to catch the first of the early morning sunshine glinting on the water.

Covering a surface area of 8,400 square kilometers, Lake Titicaca is huge and home to numerous small communities living on more than 40 man-made islands.

Landing at one such island - Amanecer - we were given a first-hand demonstration of island-creation. Constructed from mats of dense vegetation, walking on the island gave the same weird sensation we'd first experienced in Los Esteros del Ibera, Argentina.

A lesson in island-building on Lake Titicaca

Whilst here, we had the opportunity to sail in a traditional boat woven entirely from rushes - a far more placid way to enjoy the lake by contrast to the motorised launches of the tour operators...

After browsing the inevitable handicrafts on sale here (we bought a terrific tapestry!), it was time to leave the island and cruise onward into the greater body of Titicaca.

Some 45km into the lake from Puno lies the beautiful, hilly island of Taquile, where we landed to begin a hike to the highest village for a spot of typical Taquileno lunch. This turned out to be fish and chips!

Beautiful Taquile Island

After lunch we were treated to traditional dancing by the villagers, with Sharon being called upon to show us a few moves herself...

Get yer coat Luv, you've pulled!

At last it was time to bid farewell to our smiling hosts

and wend our way back down the hillside to the boat, and the gentle evening cruise back to Puno. With the sun setting on Lake Titicaca, we could look back on a great introduction to Peru and look forward to more adventures to come.