The Track to Machu Picchu

We all knew that this was going to be a long day - and it was. It began with an early breakfast and a complete repacking of our trekking gear into a lightweight duffel bag. But before we could begin the trek, we still had some awesome cycling to do.

Our cycling guides took us back up the sacred valley along a potholed dirt track, until we were back high in the mountains. Unlike the previous day's ride down the Abra Malaga Pass, this one was going to be a real test of our ability to handle mountain bikes on a rough descent at relatively high speed. Several of our riders decided that discretion would be the better part of valour and decided to stay in the vehicle instead. The rest of us donned knee protectors, elbow protectors, helmets, etc and prepared for an exciting and challenging downhill thrill ride. We weren't disappointed.

We were soon descending rapidly, while at the same time concentrating on letting the bikes do the lion's share of the work. It was hardly ever necessary to pedal, but it required constant concentration to keep the bike under control. At each switchback corner the surface of the road was covered with a treacherous layer of fine dust, sometimes several cm thick.

In spite of the dangers we all managed to stay upright and reach Ollantaytambo safely. We then sadly packed the cycle gear for the final time and bade farewell to the tremendous cycling support staff. Because Diego, Jimmy and the rest of the crew really had done a fantastic job in looking after us.

After a flying visit back to the Tikawasi Hotel to change into our trekking gear, it was time to return to the bus for another drive far back up the Urubamba River to begin our trek. The destination for the first section of the trek was the hamlet of Marcacocha at 3400m above sea level.

Although the elevation was high, the temperature certainly was not. Once the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the temperature plummeted to around zero. Everyone started looking for extra clothes to pile on to avoid freezing solid.

As the night descended a number of us stood outside to gaze at the incredible night sky and some unfamiliar constellations. While we were standing staring at the heavens we all witnessed the most incredible astronomical sight that I had ever seen. Right where we were all looking a huge fireball appeared and proceeded to carve a line across the sky, parallel to the ground. Trailing behind the fireball was a tail of glowing debris. We stood in amazement and I held my breath, waiting for the explosion as it hit the ground. In a lifetime of watching the stars, I had never seen such a dramatic and prolonged example of a large meteor. Fortunately there was no explosion and it died before hitting the ground. Nevertheless, it is something that none of us will ever forget.

After the fireball we made the first difficult foray into our sleeping bags. I know that the older I get the harder this process becomes. After a painful series of contortions and spasms I manged to partially insert my body into the confines of the bag, although my top half would have to take its own chances with the icy conditions. I then set about trying to manufacture some sort of pillow out of cast off clothes and other oddments.

If getting into a sleeping bag is hard, then getting up in the middle of the night for a "nature break" is at least two orders of magnitude even more difficult. First you have to fumble about in the dark for the torch that should be there somewhere. Then you have to don enough clothes to ensure some degree of decency and protection from the frigid conditions. Finally come the shoes and the fight with the tent zipper to make an escape into the outside world.

You then stumble across the campsite under the stars, do the deed and then repeat the whole process in reverse. It's certainly not easy.Read more