Our first trek day - the Sacred Valley and an animal rescue shelter

Ok, we're up for it. We've seen the culture, visited the kids, sampled the pets ... oops, food. Time to hit the road.

Our first day is off to the Sacred Valley - the fertile birthplace of Inca culture. As we travel along we are stunned by the locations of the Inca ruins - high in the mountains. These tough guys didn't go for the easy route. No, they had a lovely valley with a reliable river running through it. So what did they do?

They trudged hundreds of metres up the mountain side to find a nice convenient crag (it almost killed us at this altitude just to walk up the paths, let along drag building stones weighing hundreds of kilos through to many tonnes). Once there they built their houses and set about converting the 45 degree slope to an ordered series of horizontal terraces, perfectly suited to growing a vast variety of corn, potatoes, etc.

When you consider that the Inca empire only flourished for about 100 years, the shear mass of structures they put together (and so exactly - no slipshod work here) is doubly impressive. They were a culture without writing, based largely on community commitment - everyone devoting months each year to labour on community projects - and they showed the awesome results that people can achieve if they work with each other, rather than against.

Our next stop was a local animal shelter. Animal welfare isn't seen the same way in Peru as it is in Australia, but you still get the same wonderful passionate people who dedicate their lives to animals in need.

Ok, this one wasn't suffering anything more than a severe case of embarrassment, but still I felt for it. Why do people like breeding hairless dogs and cats? I know they are warm etc, but that's why God invented hot water bottles.

We also met some puma, coati, llamas (no vicuña thank heavens - I was starting to get nervous) and some condor.

Ok, so that last one isn't a llama, but you can see my point about hairless dogs.

I was really pleased when we saw the condor. Terribly endangered, they are huge birds - the largest flying bird with a wingspan metres across.

But for once I wasn't the centre of cross-species attention! One young bird, with a wingspan of a mere 2 metres decided that our guide Effy was his long- lost parent, and it was time for a bit of father-chick bonding.

Given they normally use their razor-sharp beak ripping rotten carcasses to shreds, I don't think I'd want a love-kiss either!

I'm starting to worry about these Peruvian animals ...

Our second trek day - off to see "Sexy Woman"!

Clearly there really is a theme here! Randy Vicuña, Korma Sutra, a bit of condor love, and now Sexy Woman? Did I miss the X-rating in the fine print?

But no (perhaps sadly, perhaps luckily), it's just the easy to remember pronunciation of Sacsaywaman (also spelled as Sacsayhuaman and also as Saqsaywaman - the Peruvians are incredibly consistent in their lack of consistency in spelling words!).

Sacsaywaman is the remains of a massive fortress built to protect the Inca capital, Cusco. I say remains, but don't imagine a few lines of rocks on the ground. This place is MASSIVE. The invading Spaniards and then subsequent generations have done their best to pull the place down and use it as a quarry, but what remains is huge. Thankfully the site is now fully protected.

(those two ant-like figures are Paul and Mark)

Ok, corny, but cute right?

Those notches in the rock above me are where they seated logs to help lever the carefully shaped and polished rock - weighing hundreds of tonnes - into place!

The finish of our pre-trek day - sampling Peruvian delicacies!

We were now ready to finish off our day, having been to the school, seen the market, chilled out in a 5-star monastery. What better way to draw the day to an end than to enjoy a lovely Peruvian delicacy?

Sampling Peruvian delicacies!

So we headed off to the beautifully-named "Korma Sutra". maybe not what you'd expect in Peru, but it came highly recommended (and maybe there is a theme emerging after my vicuña incident?).

The restaurant was set on a hill overlooking the old part of Cusco, and our ever-helpful guide Mark had arranged a lovely surprise to start our dinner. But before that, our three princesses (L-R: Kim, Julie, Nicole) needed to present themselves appropriately for the adoring crowds (of waiters)
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Please note the special of the day - Alpaca chili. It was delicious! I did skip the Alpaca yoghurt though ...

So on to our dinner surprise ... Tandoori guinea-pig!

"Cuy" (pronounced coy) has been a Peruvian staple for centuries, with the people living with, sleeping with, and eating their guinea pigs from before the time of the Incas (talk about a well-rounded relationship!). It's a very ecologically friendly meat animal for Peru (so I'm told) and today we were going to try it!

Yea! (?!?). Maybe they were using the guinea pigs we saw at the market?

So we all (with the exception of our very-happy-to-be-vegetarian Julie) enthusiastically/bravely/cautiously/nervously decided to try it ...

The pictures tell the story:

The verdict? 4 out of 5 thought it was "OK", one out of 5 loved it. And the one who loved it? Nicole! Clearly there's a vicious carnivore hiding behind those innocent looks!

Continuing on - a well deserved break!

So we'd had a full day so far. It was 3pm and we'd loved the kids at the school and looked slightly askance at some of the items at Cusco market.

We deserved a break

A well deserved break!

We were wandering around town, admiring the remains of Inca buildings that had been demolished by the Spaniards (the base of the Inca building was used as the foundations for the cathedral, other churches, major buildings). These Inca walls were tremendous, using granite pieces from about 30cm across to ones more than 1 metre across! And they weren't laid in rows, they were fitted together in an intricate jigsaw with multiple interlocking corners. Each stone had to be shaped and the polished by hand, then carefully fitted into place to it interlocked with its neighbours. The work and the precision involved was awe-inspiring.

But we'd had enough of walking. We came across the Hotel Monasterio - a 17th monastery transformed into a 5-star hotel by Orient Express. OMG. It was gorgeous - and even more gorgeous when they let in 6 slightly worse for wear foot-sore travelers come in for afternoon tea. We really didn't fit the decor with our trekking pants & boots, but they were very gracious about it!
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One of my good friends, on seeing one of these pictures on Facebook, said: "Oh my god, what a coincidence! We stayed there 4 years ago. Are you staying there too?"

I wish! Bastard ... even the thought of it makes me jealous.

I want to go back there again ...

Back to the past - this isn't your typical farmer's market

Well, we are back in Cusco now after completing our trek. We are all in one piece, mostly healthy, and have learned a lot about each other (note to self - some stuff isn't meant to be shared!). But more on that later - now to continue on the story which I left off after visiting the school ...

This isn't your typical farmers market

So, in the morning we had our belief in the generosity of people completely affirmed at the fantastic Chicuchas Wasi school.

To give us a further taste of what life in Peru is really like, we then went to the local market. Not the tourist market, but the real market where the locals come each day to buy their meat, fruit and veg. Fair enough I thought, a farmers market.

Uhhh, not really.

1. It was huge - filled with tourists as well as locals, despite the fact that we were there in the quiet part of the day (as with all markets, early morning is busiest). We had old grandmothers, hard-working adults, and cute babies in blankets.

2. The variety was massive - electrical goods, clothes, hardware. Massive items from stacks of freshly cut sugar cane, down to fine spice measured out in minute quantities. And of course, food.

3. The food was, let's say, 'confronting'. The bags of beans of all sorts, huge varieties of potatoes, fresh fruits of all types (I tried an overgrown variant of passion fruit that was delicious - sweet but not as tart as the normal one) were what the guidebooks would lead you to expect. But of course the fresh meat was the real difference to Australia.

Rather than our neat piles of sausages or chops behind glass at the butchers, or under plastic at the supermarket, the meat was right there. In your face. Just out of reach of the dogs, not quite out of reach of the flies (though there were mercifully few of those).

Let me paint some images:
- a pile of raw de-haired guinea pigs, still with ears, eyes and little buck teeth sticking out.
- buckets of live frogs, matched with buckets of eviscerated frogs after they've had their gall bladders removed (don't ask me why).
- masses of meat, with legs, ribs and heads all juxtaposed.

And one of our group, Julie, is a vegetarian by moral choice. I don't think this helped convert her back to being an omnivore!

Not your typical Australian farmers market. But then, our food for the trek all came from markets like this, and it was delicious. Everyday we got different meals depending on the region we were passing through, and every dish was lovely, tasty and fresh. None of us ad any tummy trouble.

So - not an Australian market, but it works really well for the people here, and from personal experience I can assure you that it results in fantastic meals.

Day 5 of the trek - the big climb!

Well, yesterday we may not have been ready to trek over 4,400 metres but today we are.

That's what Effy says (and he's been the guide for Princess Beatrice).

That's what Mark says (and he guides treks all over South America).

If they say we are ready for it, we must be. Right? We are joined by local porters with horses 'to provide backup'. Umm, why do we need backup??

Why do I have this sinking feeling in my stomach? And that puddle around my boots was there before, honest.

Today we are doing a 'medium' 12 km, taking us over a pass that is 4,400m and then down the other side. Personally, I would say it is the same as walking over the Sydney Harbour Bridge (the long way over the top of the arch, not the easy way on the footpath), whilst wearing an old-style deep-sea diving suit, and all the while only using one lung.

Can you tell I was a tad concerned?

The climb up was as glorious (or horrendous) as you'd expect, especially when it started to snow on us as we neared the top (remember: 'it never snows in this part of Peru'). Everyone was affected by altitude, with the exception of Julie, who clearly has alpaca genes from some historical cross-breeding, probably initiated by the great-great-great grandfather of my vicuña.

As we got closer and closer the the pass (ie, higher and higher above 4,000m) each of us developed their own system for the climb.

Paul said his was to walk 100 paces, stop for 25 deep breaths, then walk some more. Nicole just kept going - slower and slower - but going. Kim took it very simply - stop every 5 metres and dry retch until it hurts too much, straighten up and go again.

My system was walk for 6 paces (or if I was feeling particularly energetic, 10 paces), come to a shuddering halt, gasp for breath, cough my lungs out, look around desperately hoping the pass was miraculously closer, then repeat.

Julie just walked, and walked, and walked. Sometimes life is so unfair.

Mark and Effy were very popular.

The day started well.

We were joined by our 'backup crew'. The horse's name is James Brown.

There were lots of shelters for the shepherds and their flocks. But what about us?

At this stage I'm exhibiting a lot of false confidence, having successfully climbed out of the valley behind me.

Unfortunately this is the climb ahead of us - the pass is that little notch off in the distance.

Trying to pretend it's all easy.

But eventually we all do reach the pass. In the snow. Freezing. And with our native porters standing around casually in their plastic ponchos and sandals wondering what all the fuss is about.

But we were very very happy. And proud of ourselves.

We start down the other side. What a difference. Particularly for Kim. No longer having to stop and retch every few seconds, she takes off like a rabbit down a hole (or should be that like a guinea pig being chased by a hungry Peruvian?). This transformation worries Effy and he takes her aside to pat her down for illicit drugs. At least that what he said he did. Kim looks strangely happy.

The landscape becomes much greener and we descend among hanging lakes and Inca ruins, followed by our trusty backups. In this area they have lots of chinchillas, gorgeous creatures like long-tailed rabbits on speed.

We finally reach the bottom, exhausted but happy.

We are farewelled by a lone alpaca reflecting on the stupidity of mere Australians venturing where only Peruvians should go. And Julie.