Don’t follow the Inca crowds
Forget Peru’s busy Inca Trail to Machu Picchu - take the authentic Lares Trek instead
ABABY alpaca bats its long lashes as it peers out of a basket clutched by a woman in a rainbow poncho. From the papoose of her companion, another fluffy white face peers out.
Just a few hours in Cusco and i’m already living out my Andean dreams.
Cusco is at 11,154ft, with streets that slope into verdant foothills, pisco sours sipped in Spanish colonial squares, and some of the cutest alpacas in South America. it was also the seat of the inca civilization that so famously flourished from 1438 until the Spanish conquest of the 1530s.
Most tourists come here for one thing: Machu Picchu. the ancient inca citadel is considered a ‘New Wonder of the World’, the mountain- shrouded crowning glory of a typical four-day hike along the classic inca trail. however, there is an alternative, much quieter inca- era route: the Lares trek. this takes you into a remote section of the Urubamba mountains, through mudbrick villages and expansive lagoon-dotted valleys, into high-altitude solitude. it takes three days. Accompanied by our guide, Roger, and a group of fellow adventurers we set off. Our mission is to cover 20.5 miles; not far as the condor flies, but tough with steep ascents and rugged terrain. Even though we’re camping, we are not t exactly roughing it. Chef Edilberto cooks s delicious meals. horseman Gabino loads s up all the gear, including tents, onto his s steeds each morning. And waiter Delfin n delivers breakfast tea (along with h wake-up calls).
After bedding down in the farming g village of Cuncani, where llamas eye us s suspiciously and chubby chinchillas s dart between rocks, day two takes us to the Sicllaccasa Mountain. the lower slopes morph into dramatic bare rock leading to a great glacial lake. Ascending into flurrying snow, we hop between boulders to reach the top of a pass at 15,748ft.
here, Roger pulls three coca leaves from his alpaca- wool pouch and releases them over the edge. it’s his way of paying respects to Pachamama, the goddess widely revered in the Andes. having descended for the last hour in the dim light of the moon, i flop into the tent and gratefully acceptpt a coca tea before sleep.
Waking to the sound of rushing water, this is a stream-threaded valley of Andean grass flecked with marigolds and glossy orange mushrooms.
We hit the finish line of the Lares trek in time for lunch. Kicking off our boots at the Pacha inti restaurant it’s wonderful to feel the soft turf of its garden beneath our feet. Later that evening, the quesadillas and Cusquena beers taste extra good in Ollantaytambo town as we recount our adventures in the plaza’s saloon bars.
there is still one further challenge, though: 7.5 miles up the classic inca trail’s infamous stone steps. We’ve saved Machu Picchu for last.
With my trekking companions choosing to recoup at the hot springs of Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu town) and bus it to Machu Picchu the next day, Roger and i speed to the trailhead aboard the royal blue inca Rail train.
then we head up through the cloud forest with its dainty orchids and hummingbirds. ‘this is my power bank,’ Roger shouts above the roar of rapids funneling down the mountain. ‘i can feel myself getting energised.’
So can i, and i soon need it. the jungle leads to a set of steps so high that each one demands lifting my legs almost waist-high.
through the stone archway to Machu Picchu reveals a panorama of one of the most revered sites in South America.
the citadel between the mountains soars 1,400ft above a bend of the Urubamba River, backed by the sugar-loaf dome of huayna Picchu, which seems to brush the heavens.
the UNESCO-protected Lost City of the incas – that the Spanish never did find – still feels like a secret, sacred place.
it is the end of the day when we arrive, and the last of the tourists have gone, leaving the site more or less as it must have been before its rediscovery in 1911 by American archeologist hiram Bingham. We sit cross-legged on the clipped grass across the valley, skin cooled by the evening breeze.
A stirring of the soul, gifted from Pachamama, is practically guaranteed on reaching this awesome place after so much striving and sweating. that was how the incas designed it, after all.