Arequipa, Peru

Arequipa is beautiful. It reminds me of a slightly grander version of Sucre with its white colonial buildings. UNESCO has declared it a world heritage site. A two-hour flight from Cusco to Peru's second city and the weather transforms dramatically from humid and rainy to hot and dry.

Arequipa, also known as the 'White City' as it was built from a light volcanic rock called sillar, stands in a valley at the foot of El Misti volcano, a snow-capped perfect cone at 5822 metres, which can be seen looming over the city on a clear day. The city is also a great base for exploring the Colca and Cotahuasi Canyons, the deepest in the world. Unfortunately I only have a full day here before I head out to Colca Canyon and it really isn't enough.

(Photo - Cathedral on the Plaza de Armas)

Qenqo, Cusco, Peru

Further down the road is the small temple of Qenqo, meaning 'zigzag', where the Incas made sacrifices to their gods. There are channels in the rocks where they poured chicha (an alcoholic drink made of maize) and blood. If the offering ran down the right side of the channel, more sacrifices were required. If it ran down the left channel, the sacrifice was sufficient.

(Photo - Qenqo ceremonial site)

Sacsayhuaman, Cusco, Peru

Although I feel I have seen enough ruins for a while, I'm curious about Sacsayhuaman, an Inca ceremonial site on the outskirts of Cusco. It means 'satisfied falcon' but is famously known as 'sexy woman' as the pronunciation is very similar, although our guide is not amused by this.

For centuries the site was thought to be a fortress but recent opinion suggests a great sanctuary and temple to the Sun. some of the stones weigh up to 130 tonnes and are fitted together perfectly.

(Photo - view of Cusco from Sacsayhuaman)

Macchu Picchu

For centuries Macchu Picchu, meaning 'old mountain', lay buried in the jungle until the American historian Hiram Bingham was led to the site by an 11-year old boy in 1911. The ancient Inca city was home to 1000 people in its time. I could easily spend at least half a day exploring the extensive site but I'm tired and it's not much fun in the rain. I give up waiting for it to stop in the afternoon and head back to Agua Calientes to catch the train back to Cusco. Having seen it its full glory yesterday, I don't feel too cheated.

Macchu Picchu in the rain

Macchu Picchu in the rain

We're supposed to take the first bus up at 5am from Aguas Calientes to Macchu Picchu but it's pouring with rain so our guide lets us sleep in. It's still bucketing it down at 7.30 when we take the bus so we're all hugely relieved we pushed on yesterday. On arrival the whole place is shrouded in mist giving it an ethereal feel. On the down side much of the city is completely enveloped in mist including Huaynu Picchu, the large mountain overlooking the site. It's also pretty grim trudging around in the rain. I can barely hear the guide as my rain poncho rustles loudly as I walk.

Macchu Picchu

Macchu Picchu - Day 3

It's hard graft all the way to Intipunku (Sun Gate). Everyone cheers as I scale the final (steep) steps. From here there's a fantastic view of Macchu Picchu and the surrounding jungle and mountains, but I'm not as overwhelmed as I feel I should be. The guide tells me many people break down in tears on seeing it, but I feel nothing. Maybe the last three days have taken their toll.

The weather is superb so we descend the final 30 minutes to the site, take our photos and catch the bus down the hill to Agua Calientes, our base for the night.

Day 3 summary:
? km - 9.5 hours

Total:
40km (25 miles) - 3 days
3 high passes at 4200m, 3998m and 3700m

Inca Trail - Day 3

Flora - Inca Trail - Day 3

Not sure what this one's called...

Waqanki orchid (Masdevallia veitchiana), Inca Trail

Wiñaywayna ruins, Inca Trail - Day 3

Inca Trail - Day 3, Wiñaywayna to Intipunku (Sun Gate)

While lying in my tent I can hear a discussion going on about whether we should push through to Macchu Picchu this afternoon. The original plan was to have an afternoon's rest and get up at 4am to walk the two remaining hours to the site. As it's the rainy season the guide warns us that it'll most likely be misty and raining tomorrow morning, so if we can we should walk today. Neither option is particularly appealing - walking in the dark at 4am doesn't fill me with joy but we've already been walking 5 1/2 hours today and my legs are shot. Everyone needs to be in agreement and as I know the majority of the group want to go on, I agree.

After seeing the stunning Wiñaywayna (Forever Young) ruins we set off at 2.30pm for Macchu Picchu. It's 'Andean flat' all the way - jungle, sheer vertical staircases (where I swear a lot) but some amazing panoramic views over the mountains and valleys. I stop to photograph some beautiful orchids along the way. My favourite is the striking Waqanki orchid which is a bright scarlet colour.

Inca Trail - Day 3

Walking the jungle trail, Day 3

Inca Trail - Day 3

Walking through jungle

Inca Trail - Day 3

Couldn't face dinner again last night but I sleep well. Despite this, my eyes are so puffy I can hardly see out and I can't seem to walk in a straight line as my legs have turned to jelly.

We set off at 7.30 for our next campsite, Wiñaywayna. I'm assured that the rest of the trail will be a walk in the park. When I enquire further, the dreaded expression 'Andean flat' is uttered. Apart from a steep 20 minute section, the next 1.5 hours are undulating through jungle until we reach the Phuyupatamarca (Town above the Clouds) ruins at 3600 metres. Although I'm exhausted and looking forward to an afternoon relaxing at the campsite, the guide is right. Nothing will ever seem as hard as the day before.

At 10.30am we start our two-hour descent to the Wiñaywayna campsite, at 2700 metres. There are over 2000 steps and the downhill onslaught is relentless. Again the steps are steep, uneven and slippery. One of the girls in our group is reduced to tears when she repeatedly falls over as her knees have given way. I have strapped my painful one as I feared the same would happen to me.

On the way to the campsite we also pass the Intipata ruins but exhaustion has made all the ruins merge into one. We arrive at the Wiñaywayna campsite at 1pm and I collapse into my tent ready to sleep for the afternoon.

Walking up to Runkuraqay pass

Inca Trail - Day 2, Runkuraqay to Chakiqocha

At 2pm we set off for the second pass, Runkuraqay at 3998 metres. Again the ascent is via steep steps switch-backing around the mountain. Although it's hard work, I seem to find it a bit easier (maybe it's the music). In half an hour I reach the Runkuraqay ruins and in another hour I reach the top of the second pass. At the top of Runkuraqay pass the sun comes out and bathes the landscape in a golden light. More importantly it also dries the steps I'm about to descend.

It's another one hour descent on the other side of the pass to the Sayacmarka ruins, an Inca lookout overlooking the surreal misty Urubamba Valley. This time it takes a toll on my knees. It's a further 30 minutes to our campsite at Chakiquocha where I arrive at 6pm. I've been walking (mainly uphill) for 11 hours. I have sore knees, nausea and have cried twice today. But I've made it. Nothing will ever seem as hard.

Day 2 summary:
15 km - 11 hours

Inca Trail - Day 2

After waiting in vain for half an hour for the rain and mist to clear, I start the steep 600 metre descent down the other side of Dead Woman's Pass. The steps are narrow and steep, the stones are slippery from the rain and I almost lose my footing a few times. I make it to our lunch spot, Paqaymayo, in an hour but can't face any food. My temperature is raging and although I've apparently done the hardest bit there's a second pass coming up of 3900 metres. I doubt my ability to make it but before I have a chance to voice my fears, the tour guide approaches me and says I'll have to be carried as I won't make it to our base camp in time. This inspires such strong feelings of defiance I refuse point blank and reply that I'll crawl up the mountain if I have to. The porters genuinely don't understand why I'm so against being carried. I'm told they do it all the time.

(Photo - lunch stop at Paqaymayo)

Dead Woman's Pass, Inca Trail - Day 2

I've made it to 4200 metres!

Walking Dead Woman's Pass, Inca Trail - Day 2

A trail of coloured rain ponchos climbing up to Dead Woman's Pass

Dead Woman's Pass, Inca Trail - Day 2

The second part of the walk up to Dead Woman's Pass is harder, not because it's any more technically difficult, but because I'm really tired. The climb to the top seems to be a series of never-ending switchbacks. I constantly ask myself why I'm doing this, curse myself for not taking the train, all the time swearing loudly . Richard, the guide walking with me, is supportive and encourages me to stop for a break when I need to.

He takes my day pack and offers me his ipod to listen to. This act of kindness sets the tears rolling again. 20 minutes before I reach the pass at 4200 metres it starts bucketing down with rain, shrouding the top of the mountain in a sea of mist. A conveyor belt of brightly coloured rain ponchos slowly edge their way to the top. It's not just me who's suffering. Everyone seems to be in pain. Reaching the top should be a joyous experience but I'm soaked and feel exhausted and miserable. I have been walking uphill for five hours.

Inca Trail - Day 2

We're woken up at 5am and I can barely move. I did not sleep well. I'm aching all over, my stomach hurts and I can hardly breath. My tent is also on a slope so I spend the night sliding down the tent and dragging myself back up. I'm still pale and feel even worse today.

I shove a fistful of pills down my throat and some banana pancake which I can't taste and begin the painful task of walking up Dead Woman's Pass (Warmiwañuska) at 6am, so called because the peak resembles a woman's breast lying down. I'm tired before I start and I'm thinking about whether I'll have to turn back.

It's a relentless uphill haul at altitude through humid but beautiful jungle for 1.5 hours. The steps are steep and uneven and there's no reprieve. At this point I'd give anything for 'Andean flat'. At the halfway point, Llulluchapampa, I collapse on the rocks through exhaustion and unashamedly start to cry. It's not so much the difficulty; it's more the disappointed of feeling ill, having waiting so long to walk the Inca Trail. The tears won't stop. The guide notices and asks if I want to turn back. No way. I've already spent 1.5 days punishing myself on the hardest walking I've ever done. There's no way I'm giving up now.

(Photo - Marion ahead of me on Day 2)

Inca Trail - Day 1

It's undulating (or 'Andean flat') all the way to our lunch stop at Wayllabamba (or Huayllabamba), apart from a very steep 20 minute section that leaves us all gasping for breath. After four hours I'm suffering and can only walk a few steps without stopping. I feel nauseous and struggle to force down a couple of spoonfuls of soup and rice. I can hardly feel my legs at this point and know that the next 3km uphill stretch to Yunkachimpa at 3300 altitude is going to be tough. It's steep steps all the way and the only way I can manage is to stop every few minutes and catch my breath. Depressingly sprightly porters are continually overtaking me with huge loads on their backs.

My situation is not made easier by the fact that the guide seems to have taken a shine to me. Apparently I have a beautiful soul. He knows these things as he's training to be a shaman. I laugh it off but I get slightly worried when this translates verbally as wanting to 'bed' me. I really need to keep up with the rest of the group no matter how sick I get!

When I am actually sick on the side of the path, the guide asks if I want to turn back. Do I? If this is supposed to be easy how am I going to cope with Dead Woman's Pass? I can't give up (not yet anyway). After three hours straight uphill I arrive at the campsite to cheers from my group who have already arrived. According to some I'm looking a little green. The sight of food makes me want to be sick again so I go to bed praying I'll feel better tomorrow, ready for the big hike.

Day 1 summary:
15 km - 7 hours

Llactapata ruins, Inca Trail - Day 1

Inca Trail - Day 1

After our passports are stamped at the check point, we cross the bridge over the fierce Urubamba river and begin our 15km trek to the first campsite. I'm expecting it to be easy. Everything I've heard has warned me about Day 2 being the difficult one. Our guide has told me not to worry. Today is all 'Andean flat'. This is an expression I grow to fear and loathe over the next three days.

The start of the trail is stunning. The stony path hugs the Urubamba river around lush green mountains and through fertile valleys. 'Andean flat' appears not to mean flat at all but undulating. But I can cope with this - just. After a couple of hours walking I reach a view point overlooking the Llactapata ruins, the largest Inca city to be found on the way to Macchu Picchu.

Inca Trail - Day 1

I've no idea what to expect but I'm slightly nervous about the Inca Trail. Horror stories I've picked up along my travels have not helped to quell my apprehension. To boot I'm not feeling well - I feel nauseous and spaced out and find it difficult to pack my bag. I'm assured once I get going I'll be fine.

A mini-bus picks our group of nine up in Ollantaytambo, our overnight stopover, and drives us to Piskakuchu, more commonly known as the Km 82 point, the starting point for most people on the Inca Trail. We're all kitted out with walking sticks, hats, sunglasses and hiking boots. Our porters on the other hand have none of this gear and are wearing sandals. They'll also be carrying up to 20 kilos of provisions.

(Photo - the start of the Inca Trail at Km 82)

Sacred Valley of the Incas, Peru

Sacred Valley of the Incas, Peru

30 kilometres from Cusco is the Sacred Valley of the Incas. The day before we begin the four-day Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu our local guide takes us on a two-hour 'training' trek to the Intihuatana ruins above Pisac. High above the town on the mountainside is a suberb Inca fortress and group of temples. From Intihuatana a path leads around the hillside offering stunning views of the valley, terraces and Urubamba river below. The descent to the town involves over an hour of punishing steps, a taster of what's to come on the trail.

La Compañía de Jesús, Cusco, Peru

Cathedral, Cusco, Peru

Plaza de Armas, Cusco, Peru

Callejón Loreto, Cusco, Peru

Inca stonework on the streets of Cusco

Cusco, Peru

It's a seven hour bus journey from Puno to Cusco and I only have one full day to explore before I start the sacred valley tour and four-day Inca Trail.

I've heard great things about Cusco; everyone I know who's been here loves it but on arrival it looks like every other town, a bit of a dump. Thankfully as soon as I drop my things off at the hotel and walk to the main square, the Plaza de Armas (as many squares are named in South America) I fall in love with the city.

Cusco was founded around 1100AD as the ancient Inca capital, and means 'navel of the earth'. Almost every main street has remains of Inca walls, arches and doorways. The city has narrow cobbled streets and its churches, monasteries and pre-Columbian ruins are interspersed with plush hotels, restaurants and bars.

(Photo - Cathedral on the Plaza de Armas)

Uros floating islands, Lake Titicaca, Peru

After a breakfast of pancakes and strawberry jam it's time to head back to Puno via the Uros floating islands in Puno Bay. About 1500 people live on a number of islands constructed entirely out of reeds. Some are anchored down; some float freely. Getting off the boat is like visiting floating souvenir stands. Women are constantly calling you over to look at their handicrafts.

Dancing on Amantaní Island, Lake Titicaca

It's pouring with rain but Olga deftly leads Caroline and me in the dark up to an empty building on the hill. At one end is a bench where they sell beers and soft drinks and at the other the band. It reminds me of the brownie discos I went to when I was at school. The band play song after song of Quechua music and we all dance in a circle and then with our 'mothers'. It's all over at 10pm and we walk home in the rain. I can hear it pattering all night on the tin roof.

(Photo - dancing with Olga)

Isla Amantaní, Lake Titicaca

From Isla Taquile it's another hour to Isla Amantaní a similarly green and beautiful island with terraced slopes.

On embarking we're led up the hill and presented to a line of identically dressed Quechua ladies. In pairs we'll be staying in their houses and dining with them. It's a few apprehensive minutes while we paired up and assigned a 'mother'. Someone describes the waiting feeling like picking teams in PE. Being one of the last to be chosen I remember was always deeply humiliating.

Mine and Caroline's mother is Olga, a 23-year old with a 20-month baby. She's shy and smiley but speaks Spanish as well as Quechua which is a relief. She spins wool as we walk the gruelling 300 metres up the hill to her house. She gives us woolly hats she's made from alpaca wool so we're more recognisable among the western faces. Our room has low ceilings and three high beds. There's no electricity, just a candle on the table. We're puzzled by what look like potties under our beds until we realise the toilet is in an outside building.

We present Olga with gifts of oil, sugar, rice, pasta, candles, pencils and pens before dinner and are seated in the blackened kitchen lit by candlelight. Dinner is quinoa soup followed by a stew of rice, carrots, onions and potatoes. This is followed by 'explosive' tea (coca leaves and mint).

After dinner Olga comes to our room and dresses us in traditional island dress ready for the 'disco' tonight - puffy skirt, embroidered shirt, a wide belt that seriously restricts my breathing and a black shawl. I look particularly divine accessorising with thermal leggings and hiking boots.

(Photo - my homestay)

Isla Taquile, Lake Titicaca

It's 45 km and three hours by boat to Isla Taquile on Lake Titicaca. We pass through algae-covered waters, the Uros floating reed islands and then into open water. Lake Titicaca, a huge inland sea, is the highest navigable lake in the world. Its islands are home to the Quechua and the Aymara, who are some of Peru's oldest peoples.

Taquile is a pretty, green, hilly island with Inca terracing. It's raining when I arrive so the hour walk to the top at 3855 metres is not without difficulty. At times I feel I can't get enough air into my lungs. Lunch of Quinoa soup and grilled Kingfish awaits me at the top, and then it's a 500- step descent to the shore. By the time I reach the boat the rain has stopped but there are still dark clouds looming over the lake.

(Photo - Lake Titicaca from Isla Taquile)

Into Peru - Puno

It's a five hour bus journey into Peru via the Kasani border. It's the easiest border crossing I've made so far in South America. It's green and hilly (and raining) but as I sleep most of the way, I miss the scenic views.

It's another three hours to Puno, on the edge of Lake Titacaca. I've heard Puno is a dump and first impressions seem to confirm this. On arriving I have a quick walk around the main street, calle Lima, which is full of tourists. Like me, most of them will be spending a couple of days exploring Lake Titicaca and its islands.

(Photo - Puno)

Shopping in La Paz, Bolivia

Women on street, La Paz, Bolivia

Wanderings in La Paz

Like Cochabamba, La Paz is a huge open air market. Most of the streets are lined with stalls and locals selling everything from light bulbs to mobile phones. Although there are many agencies offering one to ten-day tours, I fill my three days in La Paz wandering up and down the colourful streets and soaking up the atmosphere. It's not a pretty city. The squares are drab and there's a definite lack of things to see.

On my wanderings I take in the 'Witchcraft Market' (Mercado de Hechicería), complete with llama foetuses on Calle Santa Cruz/Linares, and the Coca Museum, which chronicles the history of the Coca leaf, very much a part of everyday life here.

I also visit the San Pedro prison, made famous by the Rusty Young's book, 'Marching Powder', that everyone seems to have read except me. In his book he talks about the open corruptness of the prison where rich criminals have privileged lifestyles while the poorer ones sleep in the corridors. In my guidebook it mentions that if you turn up on Thursday morning with your passport you may be lucky and allowed in on an unofficial tour. Thursday is visiting day and the prison guards are not up for being sweet-talked. It's a bizarre place even from the outside. From the doorway I can see the prisoners inside staring out at me.

La Paz, Bolivia

I like La Paz instantly despite its chaos. Arriving at night from the new city, El Alto, perched on the rim of the canyon, my first vision of the city is of twinkling lights. It's a sharp descent of 500 metres to the old town where the streets rise steeply to reach the edge of the canyon, ringed by snow-capped mountains. It's a stunning place, and also the highest capital in the world at 4000 metres.

Road to La Paz

It's an eventful journey from Cochabamba to La Paz on a local bus, taking 12 hours instead of seven, due to three road blocks.

An hour into the journey on winding roads through the Bolivian altiplano, my bus stops behind a trail of other vehicles. It quickly becomes apparent that a number of locals are pushing boulders on to the road from the mountains above to block the way. Initially they refuse to be paid off but two hours they agree to accept one Boliviano (about 8p) from everyone waiting to pass. As we cross the danger area the bus is pelted with rocks. Although we've closed the curtains it's a frightening experience. My Ricky Jervais podcasts keep me smiling and relatively relaxed throughout the ordeal.

A further 20 minutes on we encounter another road block which takes over an hour to get through. Again we pay off the protesters. An hour later there's a third impasse but this time they let us pass quickly and without payment.

I hear various opinions on the reasons for the protests, one being the increased autonomy given to the province of Santa Cruz (not given to Cochabamba); another being President Evo Morales´s choice of appointment for Chief of Police.

At one point there was talk of going back to Cochabamba and flying to La Paz so I'm relieved when we arrive in La Paz at 9pm, even though we're four hours late.

(Photo - Bolivian altiplano)

Cochabamba, Bolivia

View from Cristo de le Concordia

Cristo de la Concordia, Cochabamba, Bolivia

As many of the streets in the city centre have been sealed off I decide to take the cable car up to one of the main attractions in Cochabamba.

El Cristo de la Concordia, is a towering concrete structure of Christ with outstretched arms, not dissimilar to the one in Rio. The cable car isn't working and the walk to the top of Cerro San Pedro looks arduous so I share a taxi with some others to the top. At 34.2 metres tall and weighing 2200 tons the statue is impressive but I'm more taken by the view of Cochabamba surrounded by lush green hills. From the top I can even see smoke rising from the city centre riots.

Cochabamba, Bolivia

The night bus from Sucre to Cochabamba takes 12 hours. Bolivian buses are no way near as comfortable as their Argentinian or Chilean counterparts. Seats don't recline very much, there's no toilet and there are people lying in the aisles. Needless to say I hardly sleep and as soon as I arrive in Cochabamba I check into my hostel and sleep until midday. The hostel is the worst I remember staying in - lurid red curtains, windows that don't shut properly and wires sticking out of the walls. I have several different nightmares and attribute this to the curtains.

After my disturbed sleep I venture out on to the streets. I feel as if I'm in a huge open air market. The roads are lined with people selling everything from DIY tools to clothes pegs. Hundreds of people crowd the pavements so it's difficult to walk without being pushed and shoved in all directions.

On my way to the main square I notice smoke billowing out from the top of a building and people running down the street. I can see a fire in the middle of the road but am not sure what's going on. As I approach for a closer look my lungs start to burn and my eyes start streaming. I ask a man watching the proceedings from the side of the road if he knows what's happening. Despondently he tells me locals are rioting due to failed government promises and have let off tear gas. When I visit the main square later that evening I see that a whole row of government buildings has been torched.

(Photo - riots in Cochabamba)

Tarabuco, Bolivia

Tarabuco Market, Bolivia

On my final day in Sucre, I take the local bus to Tarabuco, 64 km southeast of Sucre. The town is known for its colourful Indian market but as it's been pouring non-stop all night and morning, the market has been called off. Unfortunately the bus isn't due to return to Sucre for four hours so with no market, there's not much to do but find a cafe and while away the hours.

Fortunately the rain stops after a couple of hours and the market stalls start setting up around the square. Although it's the usual tourist fare (bags, purses, ponchos, scarves, hats etc.) in brightly embroidered fabrics, it's a sobering sight to see the town awash with colour. Everything is dirt cheap if you like that kind of thing.