I don't even know where to begin.These past 6 days have been one bizzarro-Pizarro adventure.
Let's see here.My name is Alaska, I'm 22 years old, and I just celebrated my b-day on top of the world?
A girl could do worse :) Hostess cake, anyone?
Don't judge me and my fake foods! I wanted to have a birthday cake (and eat it, too) at the top of Machu Picchu--but there weren't a lot of cakey options that could survive a 5-day trek at 4,600 meters (heck, I barely did!). I needed a prime slice of preferably-chocolate deliciousness to come with me all the way from Cusco, up and down, through hot and cold, across the Andes, the Amazon, and rust-ridden bridges I was confident could collapse at any given moment. Aka, I needed EXTREME cake. That being said, I am happy to announce that the cream filling pulled through! I couldn't have asked for a better birthday cake. Fake cream never tasted so good. "Now that's the stuff--Hostess!"
Its surreal, knowing that I survived a 5-day hike to Machu Picchu. I say "survived" because it was easily the most physically exhausting thing I've done in my life (and certainly the most exhausting thing I've done at the ripe old age of 22--6 days in, and the achy bones have got me already!) But, as crazy as this sounds, the physical struggle that my body worked through (and the pain I literally paid money for! GAH!) made me experience Machu Picchu in a way I couldn't have via bus, train, or car. I was painfully aware of every step of that journey--my lungs gasped at freezing cold air and appreciated the scenic breaks along the route that slowed my heart-rate and gave me time to soak in what was happening around me. Machu Picchu wasn't something to just check off a bucket list--it was a struggle and an achievement and well-worth the entire trip (even if I bitterly cursed myself starting on day 2. PAAH.) Would I do it again? No. But I sure am happy I made it the first time :) Pelvic thrust thumbs up!
The surrealism is a bit harder to explain. Role with me.
When I walk down the streets of Peru and see posters, pictures, and greeting cards of Machu Picchu stapled across walls, or sold in open markets, I can say--in complete astonishment--"I was there." When I do a basic Google search of "Peru," and pull up that classic Machu Picchu photo, I can hold it next to the pictures I took, and see smiling me, beaming back from the mountain top. I'm in those pictures! This is real life! See that giant mountain behind the Machu Picchu ruins? It's called Wayna Picchu. It towers over the mysterious Inca structures that we're still unsure about today.
This is me, sitting on top of it.
I'm higher than the clouds and I can almost touch the sky.
Surreal, right?
Still, who can have highs without a few lows?
This is me, wanting to fall over and never move again.
Everything has its ups and downs.
I may have wheezed under my breath (at several points during the trip) "thisssss.. is how.. I die."
But at the end of the day, I made it!
This is this tale of my uphill battle with the Salkantay trail.
Pre-depature: I spent about 4 days in Cusco adjusting to the altitude, buying kilos of peanuts from the outdoor markets (nom), and stocking up on sufficient llama gear for the nights ahead of me--it was also probably one of the most relaxing periods time that I've had in Peru thus far. My only objectives? Explore the city, drink lots of juice, and try not to lose my breath in the thin oxygen (aka NO strenuous activity). Needless to say, Cusco and I got along quite well :)
I was feeling pretty fancy on day one, even after the 4:00am departure. Here's a picture of complacent, happy me and complacent, happy hiking group. We're ready for the trek ahead.
After about 8 hours of hiking up some pretty treacherous little rock-paths (and several happy-place daydreams about Disneyland, Johnny Depp, and peanut butter-- in no particular order) we came to a view that made it all worth it. This is Salkantay mountain, the trek's namesake and possibly one of the prettiest things I've seen in a while (again, my head was filled with daydreams of Johnny Depp, so when I say "prettiest thing I've seen in a while," you know the view's good).
Look, exuberant seeing!
And then began day two.
Four hours straight up, four hours straight down, and one mind-warping last hour until we finally arrived at camp. Those were dark times. Even quoting the entire first Harry Potter movie (which, I'm quasi-embarrassed to say, I can do) couldn't pull me through this one. After a while, I just had to resort to a military 1-2-3-4 step pattern, and push every ounce of concentration I had left into picking my feet up, bringing them slowly back down to the earth, and hoping, at the end of this process, I was somewhat closer to camp. Fueled by Coca tea, bread, and questionable looking soups, day two--undoubtedly the hardest of them all--came and went, and allowed me to push past the rest of the trip with the confidence that, "hey, after that, I can do anything!" Even pee in the woods! I'm an expert now, thanks very much (and as someone that hasn't done a great deal of camping, this is big news).
Day three and four only had six hours of hiking each day--but after the uphill/downhill powerhouse combination of day two, I think everyone needed to give their protesting bodies a stern talking-to. As difficult as the trek was, I met some fabulous people in my group--people that handled the stress with courtesy and grace, and were kind even at the most difficult points in the journey (altitude sickness, food poisoning, 3am rooster wake ups, etc). Our group did a great job of willing each other on, and thanks to their constant good company and support, I made it to day five and could see this--the sun rise on Machu Picchu.
I woke up at 4:30 am to get there early--the site was empty, quiet, and more perfect than I could have imagined.
A lot of people that I've spoken with come to Machu Picchu looking for a spiritual epiphany. I'll be honest, I didn't have that. I could appreciate the magnificence of my surroundings, and the physicality of my experience getting there--but I left Machu Picchu without any new found wisdom or religious understanding. The silence was nothing but silence. It was beautiful, but only because I could hear myself so clearly. This is not a vain statement. I don't think my thoughts are more beautiful than anyone else's. I just really appreciated having room to think.
I was intrigued, however, by the number of people that snapped quick photos of themselves in yoga poses before laughing their way to the next picture-taking site. Commodified spirituality, anyone? It was interesting to me that having the appearance of being meditative (and having photographic proof that Machu Picchu made them spiritual) was somehow more important than working toward a wise-way of being. If I see another person in a yoga-pose at Machu Picchu, I might poke myself in the eye with incense. Stop the madness!
Take your time.
Don't get me wrong, I love a good posed-picture as much as the next girl.
Take, for example, the llama pictures that I have with these fellows on the path.
I was lucky--soon after this, they ran off to graze in the plaza. But with a face like that, how can you be camera shy! Silly llamas--even if you have freakishly human-like teeth, I still find you oddly charming.
I guess I just wish that everyone had time to sit on Machu Picchu and do nothing--because doing nothing can play such an important role in starting to think something!
When you have about a month in each country, time takes on an entirely new meaning.
Every day is Saturday.
You can make space for yourself, and that's really nice.
One thing I'm still thinking over is a comment a guide made in passing.
In a light-hearted voice, he talked about the technical, intellectual, and cultural achievements of the Inca peoples. Then, with his smile still in place, he remarked that had the Spanish not taken all of this away from Peru with their invasion, perhaps he would be traveling to Europe at that very moment, and some light-skinned person would be his tour guide.
The people in my group laughed.Humor has a funny way of expressing really bitter truths.
That was my journey to Machu Picchu.
I'm in Puno now, preparing to visit the floating reed islands tomorrow--but I still feel like I'm floating in a surreal world, and I'm not sure I want to come back down.
Loving this trip, but missing you!
<3 ak
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