When time stretched at the Salkantay Trek

BOOM! THUMP!

Startled, I rose from my sleep, opening my eyes to intense flashing. Thunder, Thor… why was I thinking about Nordic Mythology in the Andes… THUMP, BOOM! That one was loud. Rain fell hard… another flash and… THUMP, BOOM! The skies cracking open, the sound reverbating through the valleys of the mountains, potentially intensified by it. It seemed like the best place for Thor to play his symphony. And there I was again… with Thor.

I snuggled in the blankets of my bed. When I was a child I used to be scared of thunder, but as an adult I came to love it. I love a good thunderstorm, love being indoors and seeing the powerful light show, feeling the earth vibrate with its music. It’s Nature’s version of Metallica. Or at least that’s how I like to think about it.

It was only shortly past midnight, and I ended up falling back asleep soon. Perhaps we wouldn’t be so lucky the next day after all, I remember thinking, as I travelled back to dreamland.

And yet, I woke up the next day to clear skies. If anything, Pachamama was doing her cleaning at night, to leave the world freshly washed for our journey.

This was the last day of walking, and many question which day is the hardest – the second or the fourth?

I will tell you my opinion soon enough. I’ll say that after the light and music show, my second favourite thing is how pure the air feels after a thunderstorm. There was such a beautiful stillness that morning as I walked through the vegetation-lined paths to the dining hall. I could hear the fat drops of water falling from leaf to leaf. The plants were happy, lush and vibrant, gorgeous coats shining with pride.

And soon enough, we were walking. Amongst coffee plantations first, and then around the mountain. The scenery was lush, and whilst it was hot, for the most part the vegetation was shielding us from the rays of harsh sunshine. It was as if the thunderstorm from the night before had never happened, the weather that day was smiling at us. The views were simply incredible, with blue skies, and low thin wisps of cloud. All of our stops were simply making me elated, another sort of high, with how unbelievable that part of the world was, how incredible that I got to walk those paths and be within that greatness. I felt so entirely alive, so sure of being connected to this wonderful world. That certainly came through the beating of my heart, so strong and healthy, a sense of belonging that it’s hard to describe, you can only feel.

I was alive and the world was beautiful. How are we just stardust? How did this planet happen to exist in such impossible beauty? The mystery of it all made the world feel even more endearing.

We are ourselves part of this enigma, aren’t we? But sometimes one must stop seeking the meaning, the purpose, and just be.

And how can we solve the mysteries of our existence, if we are not even able to solve those just in front of us, created by our own ancestors? And how can we solve the mysteries of our own existence if we are not even able to solve those left behind by our ancestors? Llactapata, an Inca archaeological site on the route, is one such mystery. Archaeologists believe it was connected to the wider network of Inca sites associated with Machu Picchu, but they have not reached a consensus about its exact function. Unlike Machu Picchu, its stonework is relatively rough and understated, which somehow makes the site feel even more enigmatic. It is not the grandeur of the ruins that leaves an impression, but their location.

These ruins were certainly not what was keeping my jaw near my feet. It was standing in front of it – looking across the Aobamba valley, I could see the back side of Machu Picchu. A unique perspective to the famous mountain, yes… but I was particularly moved by the green velvet of rough peaks, and by the slow dance of the clouds between the peaks.

We all tried to rest, but it was scorching hot in there. We soon started our descent and this is when things got really messy… the paths were covered in deep, slick mud, dead leaves and roots. When my boots weren’t being swallowed by what felt like quicksand, they were sliding across the slick surface beneath them. I was thoroughly filthy at the end of this part, my boots a disgrace. And yet, whilst I’m someone who enjoys organised and clean spaces, there is something about coming out filthy from a trail that I find deeply satisfying. It’s almost proof that I was there, that I allowed nature to take control, to swallow me, without a care… it’s freeing, indeed, to let go of control.

When we finally got to the restaurant where we were going to have lunch I was starving. In those last two days of the trek my appetite had come back in full force and I was burning many calories. To the point that even though it was a generous meal, I could have eaten more – which was why I stocked up on chocolates – kitkats and maltesers, the sort of stuff that gives you the energy boost you need in the trek.

Now… the afternoon. That was to me the hardest part of the trek by far. And it wasn’t because I had to pass through seemingly flimsy bridges that are the nightmare of anyone with strong vertigo, or because we had arduous climbs. No. It was all flat. It was the damn 11Km walk along the rail line from the town Hidroelectrica to Aguas Calientes.

That path was infinite to me. It made me experience the Theory of Relativism. That path stretched time. It was three hours that felt like six. I don’t know if it was the tiredness, or the fact that the scenery really didn’t change much at all. I also had lost most of my water, as my bottle had broken at the beginning of the trek, and it was then in a state that it was impossible to retain water. When I wanted to stop by a little cafe to get some, my guide nudged me to go forward as there was a better place close by. Of course I knew that a better place meant where he knew the owners… which I’m fine with. However, that “nearby” simply wasn’t “nearby”. I believe we walked for another hour before we got there, and when we did I was moody… I finally got my water, but the place had loud music, and really annoying children who kept kicking balls at tourists. I was losing it, couldn’t even relax, so I just continued walking.

One step at the time, I thought, the distance is getting shorter and shorter…

But it didn’t look like it. At that point, even one of my shoulders had started to hurt.

When we finally arrived in the town of Aguas Calientes. At that point, I didn’t feel my body anymore. I was moody, tired, and hungry. I needed a shower. I secretly judged the Canadian friends who had the energy to go buy a bottle of wine to drink before dinner. I was sure if I had a drop of wine at that point, I’d drop dead.

The hotel where we stayed wasn’t anything luxurious, but my room was clean and I had a nice hot shower. My mood improved significantly. We all got dressed and had dinner together – the food was amazing. I had the trout, which was divine.