A glimpse of the Andes

It is 6.30pm, it is dark and I am alone. I think, under the circumstances, I can be forgiven some tears.
My Camelbak is empty and has been since around 3pm. Joel has my pack, so I have no food. What I do have, the only thing I have, is a hand torch, which I am shining into the valley in the hopes that someone is on their way.

But let us, in the knowledge that I am home and (relatively) unscathed, leave me there for the time being, because this is the middle and we must start at the beginning.

*

Maybe it's the angle of the sun as it touches the mountaintops, and maybe it's the writer in me making a romance out of an ordinary afternoon, but as the plane circles above Cusco, I find myself believing in the lost treasure of the Inca: the very peaks seem to shine with gold as the pilot makes his descent. This is the first real glimpse I have of Peru and it's a tonic for the final, hectic days at work before I left. The issues of the past 24 hours begin to evaporate, and I can feel the breath of adventure.

We are met with a very welcome cup of coca tea, an infusion brewed with leaves that are the source for cocaine base. Happily they're high-free in their natural state (although not enough for the drinker to pass a drugs test, Wiki tells me!) and a good antidote to altitude. Either way, it tastes like green tea, and gives the beginning of the trip a satisfying home-from-home feel.

We head to our hotel, where we take a quick shower and head out for 'lunch', which by 5pm is so much more like dinner that we agree to skip the actual dinner in favour of bed.

Acclimatisation

Our first full day is spent exploring Cusco, lingering indecisively at market stalls while enthusiastic women try to entice us with their wares. We chat to a painter in the main square and each end up buying a small piece that will roll up for easy transportation. Mine is, naturally, a rather silly a water colour of llamas who look very pleased with life in general. We're then hustled into Paddy's by Dave, who's whole plan for the day centres around a pint here. It's weird sitting in an Irish bar in Peru, with football on the TV and a couple of Germans next to us who soon fall into conversation about football related things that go right over my head.

Then we walk up to St Cristobel, which feels like pretty hard work given that we've been deposited by LAN at an alien 3,500m and the traffic is emitting some heady fuel fumes. En route we can see a wedding taking place in one of the churches, and Dave is rather taken with a lamb which is being carried around by some women and kids in traditional dress. The Peruvians dress so colourfully that it's tempting to start buying up a load of ponchos and hats and jumpers in all hues; we have to remind ourselves more than once that back home we wouldn't wear half the stuff we're thinking of buying.

"Sexy Woman"

At St Cristobel we get a taxi to Saqsaywaman, an Incan citadel that sits above Cusco. Getting into a taxi is an adventure in itself. Anyone who has been to Rome or Marrakech, or preferably both, will have some experience of fear when either sitting in a ab or crossing a road. Cusco more or less combines the two. We learn quickly that when walking, the best option is to just cross your fingers and go for it. In cabs, which incidentally seem to lack seat belts - at least any sort of seat belt that would offer adequate protection in a collision - we learn to not look. Ever. 

So to Saqsaywaman, often referred to by the English speakers as "Sexy Woman". It is here that we realise just how big Cusco is. It extends right along the valley and up the sides of the mountain, sprawling out in a way that seems impossible given its location deep in the Andes. 

Saqsaywaman is like nothing I have seen before. The citadel is made of huge - and I mean huge - square blocks of stone, each carved so perfectly that it fits with the next without cement and with gaps so small you couldn't fit a penny in.

There are llamas, which I find greatly pleasing, and there are incredible views of Cusco, and the Cristo Blanco on the next rise, which towers, arms outstretched benevolently, above the city. There are also preparations for a coming of age festival that dates back to Inca times. A stage is being set up in the green space between the two main parts of the settlement, and explains the boys in traditional dress running around the streets that we saw on our way up.

We return mid afternoon, tired and excited for our trek, which begins at 6am.