Since arriving back from the Inca Trail 2 days now, I've had some time to really reflect on what just happened. I felt it pertinent to impart some of these thoughts, not only to share with our whanau, but to keep as a record so we can be reminded of how truly profound the trip was for us.
Tu briefly spoke about Day 1 on the trail, which was a really nice introduction to the physical and mental strength required for this trip. We got to get to know some of our crew a bit more, shared a beer and a yarn. Most of the people in our group were seriously fit, or had hiked/trekked before. I instantly regretted not going to the gym more and increasing the incline on the treadmill lol.
Anyway, on the first night, we were briefed about Day 2... the infamous day 2 where all limits would be pushed. I had heard about day 2 and the physical demands, the altitude, the sheer steepness of a mountain leading to the Dead Womans Pass, but nothing could prepare for me what was to follow.
We woke up to blue skies and well rested bodies. Percy, our guide introduced us to all 24 porters and 2 chefs who travelled with us every step of the way on the Inca Trail, as mentioned, their mahi was to look after us with our homes (tents) and meals. They are what you would call the lifeline of the Inca trail, without porters, hikers can't realistically do the trail as the areas are all too remote to source food and water. The porters themselves deserve more than a mention here. They carry 25 kg packs each, some carrying our (the hikers) sleeping bags and spare clothes, some carrying propane gas tanks, some carrying tables, chairs and tents so we can have a dining mess. It's actually incredible.
The porters themselves come from various highland communities of the Andean mountains. The porters that we were blessed with came from the Quechua people. The oldest porters were 68-70 years old all carrying equally sized packs. Unbelievable. Some were brothers, fathers and sons, cousins and in-laws. All were beautiful, hard working people who literally made the trip happen for us. It was surreal as we would be hiking along, someone would yell "porters!" and we'd all move to the left and make way for a flurry of porters rushing past us to get to the next campsite in order to have our dinner cooked and our tents and beds set up before we arrived... truly remarkable.
Back to day 2... easiliy the most difficult, the most challenging, the most gruelling physical activity that I have ever experienced - ever. Not just the physical pain of climbing up one of the steepest mountains for 5 hours (all up hill) but to deal with the altitude, which we began at 3000 metres above sea level, and walked to the highest point of 4,200 metres... Every breath was a gasp for air as if a brick was laying on my chest. I got nauseas and dizzy and at times felt like floating off the cliff! This is the boundary pusher! Tu kept with me the whole time and knew that I was struggling so he took my day pack and carried both of ours... then the rain came... we made it to the Dead Woman's Pass (Warmi Wanusca Pass) at 12.40pm, taking us just over 4.5 hours from the bottom to the top. We then hiked all the way down the other side of the mountain to our next campsite.
Now, during this experience... I wondered to myself many times why didn't we just bus or train to Machu Picchu. Reaching the top of that mountain, with my darling Tu, in the pouring rain and at freezing temperatures (since we were so high up) I realised the importance of what we were doing. The support and encouragement that Tu gave me all the way up that mountain is what got me to the top. Reflecting on ancient Inca people and this trail, reflecting on my whanau back home, our babies, our old people, my maunga; Taranaki and all the things and people I treasure... it truly reminded me of how the beauty in our lives and I'll never forget the feeling it gave me to reach the top of the mountain.
Day 2 campsite was situated on a mountain side in a valley (Pacaymayu) and our tents had a frontal view of the Andean snow-capped mountains and cloud forest. Truly spectacular! Our meals (both lunch and dinner) were three courses. We ate like we were in a hotel. The food was nourishing and plentiful and the service (we had waiters etc) was second to none. Unbelievable to imagine how they could cook all this amazing food for us in the mountains with no power or facilities, just what they have in their packs and the water from the river.
Day 3... bring it on! The bones and muscles were a bit weary today but everyone was keen to hit day 3 which would be the longest of them all (16.5kms). We climbed up a moutain for about 45 minutes to Runkuraqay Pass where we stopped and took a moment. Percy, both guide and philosopher gathered us at the top of the pass for a moment of reflection. He talked a lot about reciprocity and understanding that before you can give love, you must first love yourself, the same goes for anything in life, to give you must first possess that which you are giving away. He asked us to take a stone from the river next to our second campsite and carry it up to this pass with us.
The Quechua Riders (our name that Tu gave us!) decided to stack our stones together as a family. Each of us were asked to think about leaving something on the maunga (a thought, a burden, a worry, a prayer whatever it might be) and to ask for something. These sentiments would allow us to give and receive. It was special... because my wish came true on Day 4! Hahaha!
During day 3, we ate lunch at the Phuyupatamarca Pass where we could see a condor flying in the sky. Our chef, baked a beautiful cake for all of us saying "welcome to the Inca Trail!" unbelievable once more how they could bake a cake so beautiful in the middle of the Andes.
Arriving to our campsite for Day 3 was a blessing... we could see the maunga of Machu Picchu from our tents and our guides said that the ancient city is just over that mountain. We knew we were all so close... and that in the morning we would finally arrive to our destination. At this stage, everyone is pretty smelly from not showering for 3 days and tired. We had an evening of beautiful food and chats, everyone was in good spirits. The porters were invited into our dining tent and Tu was asked to give a speech of thanks to the porters and present them with a koha that all of us hikers had collected. His speech was beautiful! From te reo Maori, to English and then translated by Percy in to Quechua... Tu and I then presented both Percy and Oddy (our other guide who did the entire trail with us) with some pounamu pendants acknowledging them and their time they spent with us making this trip so amazing. After a hongi and some waiata, it was feeling really lovely sharing our culture with the Quechua people.
Day 4... that's another blog :)
All I can say, is that this trip has been profound and life changing, a time of reflection and gratitude, a time of understanding and learning more about myself and my partner and being open minded and having an open heart to the people and the stories around me. Thank you Quechua Riders, thank you Percy, thank you my darling Tumarangai for this unforgettable experience.
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