1st January 2025

Happy New Year!

The alarm went off at 3:30am, we packed up and checked out before heading out into the streets of Cusco to find the party we left still raging. People, looking somewhat glossy eyed were yapping happily covered in yellow clothes and accessories. We felt out of place sober, hiking gear and heavy packs donned. 

We met our group and loaded into the minivan which carried us away from the city. The bus ride was rough, a series of hairpin turns up and down the mountains which the driver took at full speed, only to slam on the breaks at the turning. On the dirt road he seemed to enjoy tailgating the vans ahead and recklessly overtaking drivers on bends with sheer drops, often having to break abruptly when a car would come the other way. Little did we know this journey would seem serene in comparison to a death-defying one we would endure the next day! 

In the car park at the start of the Salkantay trek we listened to a safety briefing before donning our packs. Dan and I took stones from the car park and put them in our packs. The day before, Elisban had told me about the practice of the indigenous people of the Andies called Apacheta, where you take a stone from the start of your journey and carry it with you to the highest point of your trek, where you place it in a pile as a thank you to the mountain. The following day would see us crossing Salkantay pass which stood at 4,600m, meaning we wouldn’t have to carry the stones for long. 

It wasn’t the most beautiful start to the hike, clouds were rolling in and it wasn’t long until we hid under waterproof ponchos for the first time on our adventure. The scenery had a moody feel to it: dark-rock mountain sides adorned with mustard yellow flora ascended above us, the peaks of which could not be seen through the clouds. 

We climbed until we reached Humantay Lake which stood at 4200m. Despite a sky saturated with grey clouds, the water illuminated a brilliant translucent emerald blue. Glacier water feeds this lake releasing minerals which cause this vibrant colour. The rain rippled on the lake and if it hadn’t had been so cold and exposed at the top it would have been relaxing. With numb fingers we continued over the other side of the mountain and instantly found ourselves sheltered. Soon, warmed by the sun, ponchos were removed and fingers felt again!

Mules with soft white noses and large curved ears would pass unbothered by us. They carried up tourists and then returned to the ranch below without the need for a guide. “Inca traffic” our guides called down to us as we waited for a chain of mules to cross the path in front of us.

At the bottom of the mountain we continued along what was referred to as Inca flat which was just as flat as the Patagonian flat! It was a short walk though and soon we were at the A-frame triangular mountain huts with grass roofs and the front triangle made entirely of glass so that we could enjoy the view.

We were in bed by 7:30pm. I had developed a headache earlier on in the day and it hadn’t eased at all. Sleep did not come easily, I struggled to switch off and when I did I would wake up with a pounding head, irregular breathing and panic. I had to talk myself down each time, first taking steady breaths then telling myself that I was fully conscious, not in respiratory distress and that the symptoms I was feeling were normal for those with mild altitude sickness. My restless night continued and I focused on the fact that tomorrow, after Salkantay pass, we would be descending back down to oxygen rich air!