I'm no hiker, walker or climber but the Inca Trail awaits me at the end of this 60minute drive, the transit van zig zagging across the mocking trainline all the way to the drop off point; you're walking 45km, mostly up for 4 days, why?
It's a good question for which I don't have a particularly good answer: To get to Machu Pichu is the best I can offer as I stand looking up at the stubbornly steep Andes mountains that flank us on every side, clouds hiding their tops. Somewhere up there is the Incan temple, rediscovered 100 years ago but from here I simply can't see a path anywhere.
I'm surprised that the approach to one of Peru's major tourist attractions is little more than an unfinished dirt track.
My backpack is weighed down with 2kg of water, enough coca candies to stop me crossing the border and a wide range of clothing to counter the volatile weather: It's much heavier than the 6kg pack I handed to the porters that contained a sleeping bag but little in way of camping comforts. The weather looks ok and 15 of us set off.
The first 5km seem familiar as we follow the river, any upward direction countered by a similar down. The river itself is more furious than the Thames but so far this isn't dissimilar to my frequent walk to The Bull in Sonning.
The change is sudden though as we approach the first Inca ruin and we start to climb, stone steps replacing the dirt path. All the Inca's stonework majesty is missing, these are knarly, sharp rocks loosely positioned to suggest a route up the mountainside. It's the first hard stretch and a small hint of what's to come.
Porters laden with 25kg obelisks run past us to ensure camp is ready before we are. Unladen porters race the trail and can arrive at Machu Pichu in just 3hours 45 mins, (the best Ultra runner takes over 7 - struggling with the steps and altitude). Our pace is more gentlemanly and includes much needed lunch stops.
Onwards and upwards for the rest of the day, and after a long climb of more steps I surprise myself in arriving promptly at the campsite, greeted by applause from the porters, perhaps as surprised to see me at the front as I am!
All the camp sites make use of the abandoned Incan terraces; the only flat areas to pitch tents, the toilets are the most disgusting I've ever seen, emptying directly into the rivers.
The plan for the notorious day2 is outlined to us. The group had mainly been walking at similar pace but this is all about to change. The gradient will become much steeper, the effort to breath much harder, the right to cross Dead Woman's pass is hard fought and you must go at your own pace with the guides following the last hiker and collecting up anyone in trouble - they may be upto an hour behind you.
Expect 7 hours walking uphill to 4250m this is the equivalent of walking over Mt Blanc, except we're bathed in hot sun and jungle dampness for the lower stretches; stop when you need to, be mindful of altitude sickness, have sugary snacks in close reach and do not run out of water.
It starts immediately, up, round the corner, more steps. The path is narrow and the gradient burns the legs, sweat carries away the insect repellant and suntan cream, and then suddenly we're above the tree line
For the first time we can see the top but it never comes any closer. The steps pass llamas who don't care for your pains, this is a killer. Many Trekkers are strewn along the side of the path trying to catch their breath: It's not possible to drink water or suck in coca candy whilst walking, we need a yawning mouth to suck in enough air, this means you stop often for breath which extends the agony. I'm shattered.
The last 20 steps are the hardest, those on the top are cheering you on, your lungs are bursting and you're desperate not to fall, but coordination is getting harder and backpack feels heavier than ever.
As soon as you clear the last step a freezing wind whips across from the next valley and reminds you your top is soaked, and if you sit for much longer you're going to freeze: I'd traded the warm clothing for waterproofs that morning. A mistake for most onlookers but I rarely feel the cold and a glance down the other side confirms that waterproofs will be needed.
We'd been asked to wait here for the rest of the group unless it as too cold: It is, so Alexa and I turn to move on but the weather has changed. Normally when I'm faced with this kind of whiteout I'm accompanied by a couple of other idiots on snowboards.
This time there's no snow, just exceptionally steep, damp steps and a Norwegian with whom I literally run down the staircase with, Alexa is more cautious. We complete the section stupidly fast, being 3rd into camp at 10.50am, more than twice as fast as we were meant to. I don't know where this pace has come from, my zero preparation means I shouldn't be anywhere close to Alexa let alone ahead. All I can I offer is my love of being in the mountains and draw inspiration from my surroundings.
I'm convinced I'll crash out of energy soon, real soon as I shower in the glacial meltwater: I'm now shivering and fearing hypothermia, the water is absolutely freezing and should have been avoided. Day 3 is another early start, it's pitched as a long descent but only once we climb the final stair case, I keep looking back on our camp to try and measure out where to expect the top, it's meant to be 400m above camp.
We're warned by our guide to expect a corpse when we reach it, a man had died yesterday - heart problems - and they had been unable to recover him. It's a quick reminder of how remote we are and that if you slip off one of these steps, only the river 1000ft below is going to catch you, and the path is getting narrower.
It wasn't too hard and once over, it's a downward trajectory, the wind chaffed mountains replaced by cloud forest and high jungle. The walk through this section is stunning.
More Incan ruins, overlooked by rainbows I've not seen before remind you all the temples are built to the Sun.
Orchids greet you on every turn, the path is starting to look, well, more like a path, perhaps we've cracked it?
We seem to be climbing again to the lunch spot, I'm leading and we're moving quickly. 16km today and I'm keen for it to be over.
The top is lost in cloud, we saw it enter the tent in a very bizarre scene that the camera couldn't pick out, little tufts of cloud came through the tent door, hover above the dining table and then retreat back to the mothership as it moved into the valley we'd just left. The llamas as usual are unmoved.
The cloud swirls and we have glimpses of another Incan lookout to the valleys below
The trail passes right through it and I feel the first drops of rain on my arms as we descend from our Incan perch and back into rainforest. We have a lot more energy now; altitude no longer biting into our reserves.
I zoom through the rest of the jungle, this is like a Tarzan set, vines hanging, bugs chirping - just beautiful.
We arrive at the last Incan site and the backdrop for our campsite. The valleys meet here and I can once more hear that train whistle, still mocking.
It's the fist time we can see Machu Picchu mountain and the clue that something man made is on the other side.
(No-one knows the real name of any Incan site, MP means Old Mountain and is the name of the nearest rock to it)
Last day, last 6km, final push to the Sun-gate; end of the Inca trail and entrance to Machu Picchu. We're waiting at the park gate, in the dark to start the final hike. Sunrise is quick, and it's light as we cross into Machu Picchu park at 5.30, 2 hours to the Sun gate is the estimate.
The route is through jungle, views out across the valley to the right, mountain wall on the left. It's a gentle walk and as pretty as yesterday's
The final steps up to the gate are the last kicker for the legs, many resort to climbing on hands and knees, I didn't; I wanted to finish this properly.
Bathed in sunlight below us is Machu Picchu, the best preserved Incan site in the world, in the most dramatic setting: in reaching it we've achieved something the Spanish never did.
It's 8am as we reach the site entrance and the inca trail is finally completed. The cafeteria at the ticket office is open and Peru doesn't have licensing hours, I've been up since 3am: it's beer o'clock. Many others have the same idea and we switch quickly into a party mode.
After walking around the site I liken Machu Picchu to an old Alfa Romeo; more beautiful from the outside, than in.
Inside it's familiar to many of the temples we've seen along the way, true, but on a much greater and grandiose scale.
The terraces are never ending, the temples with the exquisite stone work would have been lined with Gold and silver. Of the three symbols still revered in this part of the world, snake for the underworld and the past, puma for the land and the present and condor for the future and high spirits, this is the only site to have a temple to the Condor. It's also the first time we've seen where the priests live and prepare mummies (there is no evidence the Incans carried out human sacrifice, they stuck with Llamas but they did keep their dead relatives close for consultation)
It's an important site then, more temples than any other, home to more higher ranking folk it's thought to be the Kings retreat from the masses, Hampton Court if you like.
It took 50 years to build but there is a quarry behind showing that this was still a work in progress: All the Incan settlements were abandoned by order of the last Inca as the Spanish encroached and most are unfinished - annoyingly.
This leaves much for archeologists to ponder and speculate: the inca had no written language or hyrogliphics to fill in the blanks. The only history aid is that chronicled by the Spanish but arriving too late to unlock the mysteries.
It's a magnificent place, as I touch the walls and walk the terraces, I wonder what the architect was thinking, how many Incas walked this way why they didn't make more of a stand to defend such an inaccessible place. It is incredible but only as a conclusion to the whole 4days.
Ultimately I will (grudgingly) concede that the journey was better, more enjoyable than the destination, but 'm still not a hiker.
