Sharon provides an impromptu yoga lesson, full of stretches and strange positions, while other groups from all parts of the world look on excusing our strange behaviour because we’re crazy Brits. This view is further confirmed when some of us fill the time waiting by breaking into song.
We gain access to the next part of the walk as daylight breaks through and we see the amazing mountains around us with pools of white cloud below us looking like large lakes. When we started this trek some of us were worried by the sheer drops of hundreds of feet inches away from the path. No fencing or safety nets here. Now we’re getting used to looking down perilous drops without further thought.
We walk through rainforest full of bird noises and the world inviting us to the Sun Gate party ahead. More steep steps up and down and then the final challenge to finish us off. 68 steps up to the Sun Gate. It looks like we’re being challenged to scale the side of a skyscraper. Deb has suffered with swollen knees throughout the journey and, to be honest, the only way she’s got through has been with gritted teeth, guts and determination to achieve this lifelong dream, even though her body is fighting against her every step. Deb scales the final steps by crawling up this stone wall on all fours, still carrying a heavy back pack.
Jimmy, our guide, is there to receive us as we enter the Sun Gate and experience one of the great and inspiring views of the world. The pictures don’t do justice to the size and enormity of the city and surrounding landscape. You can touch the relief and elation of all of us having made it. Tears flow with hugs and kisses. Catherine and Sharon arrive to cheers from everyone at the gate, both our party and other groups whom we’ve talked to along the way. Catherine has been another trekker who has suffered and, against the odds, with great fortitude has made it.
We’re not finished. We still have about an hour to descend down the mountain to get to this mysterious city. We carry a superior air of achievement now and find ourselves having to mingle with other visitors who we see as imposters. That is those who have been brought to the city by train and bus. We fight to gain access to steps and some of us lay claim by saying “We’ve trekked for four days to get here." Some of the 'imposters' show respect and applaud us. Others show no regard.
We tried to take group photographs with the banner to show we made it. City police obstruct us, treating the place like a religious temple but we sneak a photo through anyway through Jimmy’s efforts and Carrie’s camera. We break into two groups. Those who want a short verbal tour of the city and the bus down to the town below, and those stalwarts who want the two hour walking tour of the city. Diane exchanges her watch for some postcards with a local seller. (We later discover it was a 50p Primark watch)
Jimmy is at his element with the longer tour, putting the record straight on the place of the Incas in history and the damage inflicted by the Spanish four hundred years ago. We then get the bus to Aguas Caliente (Hot Springs), the town at the base of Machu Picchu. The bus slows down by the river and we see our advanced party in a posh hotel lounge, drinking champagne. Off the bus and into the hotel to celebrate. Drinks flow, courtesy of James and Cath (Baroness Buchanan) with staff flapping around us. No complaints from other hotel guests of a smelly group of crazies hogging the lounge.
We then walked to the restaurant, being distracted by TV screens showing Chelsea verses Barcelona. The restaurant is next to a railway platform in the middle of the town. Good food, lots of beer, dancing, live music invited by us, and a temporary respite by paying respects as a funeral procession passed by us walking along the railway track. We spilled out into the main drag and spent money on presents for friends and family.
We make our way to the railway station for the journey to catch the bus for Cusco. Ben joins the list of injured by falling between railway sleepers, losing beers and a bottle of vodka, and giving himself bruises up his legs. His Dad, a keen railway enthusiast, is particularly embarrassed with this behaviour on the railway track. Onto the packed train drinking beers with lots of conversation. We arrived at a unknown destination to be picked up by a bus to get us back to the hostal in Cusco. The driver didn’t impress us since he did a lot of texting while at the wheel and kept full beam on with oncoming traffic flashing us constantly. We finally crawled into the hostal at 11.30pm and everyone went to shower - as a consequence the hot water ran out very quickly.
Fluffy
No comments:
Post a Comment