From the Peruvian Andes to the Brazilian beach

The view of Cuzco

We arrived in Cuzco and headed for The Point, a recommended party hostel in the centre of town. Once settled in our dorm room (a first for the trip), I made myself at home by spreading our belongings over the other bunk beds, took a long hot shower and much to our fellow northerner’s amusement blow-dried my hair (another first for South America!)

With the Inca Trail set for the following morning – with a 5am start – we headed to the hostel’s bar, complete with alcoholic staff and other travellers in permanent states of drunkenness. Joined by Leanne - our Mancunian room-mate - two dizzy Aussie girls and a moody German we threw ourselves into the swing of things (some more than others...) Whilst I sensibly called it a night at around midnight (bearing in mind our 4.30am wake-up) I left Tom to his own devices. What emerged the following morning wasn’t pretty. It seemed Tom had embarked upon an all night drinking session, aided and abetted by the Manc and finally crawled into bed at 4am. The start to our 4-day Inca hike wasn’t a good one.

The Inca Trail lived up to all expectations. Tom, having already completed the alternative Lares trek, knew what to expect. I on the other hand, once again, had no idea. Four long days of walking with each night spent in a tent at altitude, following the Inca’s pilgrimage to Machu Picchu was a strenuous but rewarding adventure. We were part of a group of 15 with 21 very impressive indigenous porters and two guides – “Mucho Macho” Marco and “Mister” Edwin (Marco’s side-kick and continual butt of his crude jokes). Both were full of interesting facts and stories from Inca times and provided the group with a constant source of entertainment – mostly unintentional and often followed by Marco’s catchphrase “Oh my Christmas”. Finally arriving at the sacred site of Machu Picchu felt like a real “once in a life-time” opportunity. The site itself is pretty big, surrounded by lush Andean mountains and has been incredibly well restored. Of course the only annoyances as the morning progressed were the hordes of tourists which began to emerge from arriving train carriages (somehow it seemed unjust to be able to catch a train direct to the site following our 4 day mammoth walk).

 

A well earned beer

 

Following Machu Picchu we re-grouped for a final celebratory lunch in a village below the site before heading back to Cuzco. We joined another couple (Irish Jason and Australian Eleanor) and chose their hostel for the next few nights – a much quieter choice than The Point. We stayed in Cuzco for three more days - I explored the city and went horse-riding with what must have literally been an eight-year-old, Quechuan-speaking “guide”, whilst Tom tried to focus on his website. After deliberating we decided to take a hit on the bank balance and booked flights from Cuzco to Recife (a city on the north-east coast of Brazil and later according to a native Brazilian one of the country’s most dangerous cities) instead of travelling for days on end through Bolivia. Thank god we did. Following our rather unexpected encounter with Peruvian customs aka airport police who instructed us to empty our entire belongings so that an officer could sniff his way through our dirty laundry and Tom’s athlete’s foot powder(!) We’ve just spent our first day on the Brazilian beach with its warm turquoise water and delicious food & drink we can already see why the Portuguese didn’t bother exploring more of the South American continent!