Guapa goodbyes – The sky was still clear the next morning and, after a last look at Salkantay and Humantay, we set off in bright sunshine. We started to descend down the side of a steep canyon, and within 30 minutes we were riding though vegetation, at first stunted, but then lusher and eventually cloud forest. As we removed our warm layers, it was hard to believe we had slept with hot-water bottles just hours earlier. Now we pointed out vividly coloured orchids and bromeliads, while butterflies and hummingbirds flitted across our path. After the austerity of the mountains, this was an aromatic and verdant Eden. We passed through a small settlement where families were going about their everyday chores.
Since tourism hit this trail it has brought money, work and young people back into the region. There is no road access here, only the trail, so families operate mule trains to carry luggage for the trekkers and to bring supplies such as beer and bottled water up from the town. Some families have opened small campsites, others have built nice toilets and will charge a small amount for its use. The extra income and mule trains also mean the locals have easier access to products – though there is one commodity that they seem to prize most of all… “Coca leaves are very good for you. It’s a shame the whole world can’t have them!” laughed Guido.
After crossing a river bridge that a couple of the horses were less than keen on, we reached Colpa Lodge. Set on the side of a hill, it overlooks the confluence of three rivers, while the forested hill behind it is home to a wealth of wildlife including spectacled bears. Donkeys grazed on the lawn, and the horses were turned out into an orchard. Meanwhile, a traditional pachamcmca meal was being cooked in the garden. Typical Andean vegetables and tubers, as well as various meats, were slow cooked on hot stones within an earth oven. We were subdued the next morning as it was our last day with the horses.
We set off on a relatively new dirt road, but only saw half a dozen cars in the five hours we travelled it. We were following the river through the Santa Teresa Valley, and the sound of rushing water was our soundtrack as we cantered past coffee plantations, tangles of wildflowers and clouds of butterflies – black ones, blue ones and an iridescent one that changed colour h orn lemon to lilac to sapphire as it flitted around us.
At rpm we turned off the road and had a final surge up a steep bank into a school playing field where we dismounted. There wasn’t much time for sentimental farewells; the horses, knowing they were about to turn for home, started off across the field on their own, followed in hot pursuit by the helpers. It was a moment of light relief in what would have been a sad parting. From here, the restored Llactapata Inca Trail leads in the direction of Machu Picchu, but horses are not allowed on it. The next morning we could take a minibus to the train station… or do it the Inca way, walking first for three hours along the trail to Llactapata, an Inca site that looks across to Machu Picchu.
The site was found by Hiram Bingham on his follow-up expedition to Machu Picchu, although he barely explored it. Llactapata is far more extensive and important than originally thought. On the summer solstice the sun shines directly down a stone corridor; one theory is that if the Inca hung a gold sheet there, it would have reflected the sun back onto Machu Picchu. A long, steep and tough descent took us down to the train station and to Aguas Calientes, aka Machu Picchu Pueblo. It was a culture shock to be among fellow travellers again after so many days by ourselves, and to dine in a packed restaurant instead of with only each other.
Trail ends – We woke early but not as early as some. Guido had correctly predicted there was little point getting to Machu Picchu for sunrise as it would be cloudy. Sure enough, when we arrived it was completely shrouded, hiding its secrets from us. But the sun gradually broke through, the mists shimmying to give tantalising glimpses. Finally, the full splendour and scale of ‘When we arrived Machu Picchu was completely shrouded, hiding its secrets from us. But the sun gradually broke through, the mists shimmying to give tantalising glimpses’ the citadel was exposed.
We marvelled at the skill and ingenuity, the craftmanship and the mysteries. While entranced by the site, I couldn’t help but remember Guido’s constant reminders throughout our journey that you shouldn’t consider Machu Picchu in isolation. It was part of a whole network of sites, both manmade and natural. In the Inca world everything was interconnected and in alignment. You had to read the landscape, just as the Inca had. I kept looking out at the surrounding mountains. “Which way is Mount Salkantay?” I asked Guido. He pointed exactly due south, but the view was obscured by heavy cloud. It struck me that Guapa would probably be heading over the Salkantay pass right now on her way back home -following in the steps of countless Inca from long ago.
