A trek through the Lares Valley

We spent one week in Cusco before our trek to Machu Picchu. Although we do have some cool photos and notable experiences from that week, I feel eager to write about and display photos from the trek. So, suffice it to say that during our week in Cusco we went to museums, took a day trip to the Sacred Valley and hiked among the ruins at Pisac, huffed and puffed our way up all the hills and stairs as our lungs adjusted to being 3,400 m (11,150 ft) above sea level, and most importantly: acclimatized after arranging our trek to Machu Picchu.

We hoped that we would be able to arrive in Cusco and book a trek on the world famous Inca Trail. We knew that in the high season (June-September), trekkers have to save their spots on the trail several months in advance. Since we arrived just as low season began, we thought there might be a couple spots available. Well....nope! Travel agencies and tour operators repeatedly told us that the Inca Trail was out of the question, and that we had several "alternative treks" to choose from. None of the alternative treks are paths that lead directly into Machu Picchu (only the Inca Trail offers that stunning ending), but there are several treks in the area that end up in Aguas Calientes, where trekkers then take a bus to Machu Picchu.

The trek we chose was called the Lares Valley Trek, often referred to us a "cultural" trek because it's not just a walk through nature, but also a journey through several indigenous communities who continue to live much as they've been living for hundreds of years. Another awesome thing about this route is that it's one of the least touristy ones. Few people choose this trek, so especially during low season it's super peaceful and special.

Let me begin at the beginning. Our trek began with an early morning drive out of Cusco, through the Sacred Valley, and finally to the in-the-middle-of-nowhere Lares Hot Springs.

Walking up to the hot springs:

We arrived at the hot springs at 7am, pleased to find that we were the only ones there!

The place was incredibly peaceful. There were six different pools, all filled with mineral water, each pool at a different temperature.

Before relaxing in the mineral waters, our cook prepared breakfast for us and our guide. It felt really weird to be served like that, but that's just part of what you pay for when you book a trek. Anyway, we ate our breakfast as the clouds cleared and the sun began to beat down. Then we got in our swimsuits and soaked in the waters for a very long time. Of course, we were joking, "Man, that was a hard trek." It felt kind of silly to begin our journey by relaxing in such peaceful luxury.

Later on in the morning, a group of at least 40 kindergartners and two teachers arrived. I couldn't get over how amazing it was that they were taking a field trip to the hot springs. Actually, I couldn't take my eyes off this group. The interaction between the two male teachers and all the 5-year-olds was fascinating. These young kids were not only extremely respectful to their teachers and to each other, I noticed that they were also very quiet. No one complained. No one fought or cried. I was in disbelief! This was the first beautiful moment of the trek where I got a glimpse of this other culture that is full of living values.

All the kids took showers in the little "waterfalls" beside the mineral pools. The water was warm and constantly flowing, something that none of these kids have in their homes. The teachers stood and watched and made sure every single child thoroughly shampooed his or her hair, and scrubbed every exposed inch of skin with soap. It was amazing. These teachers cared so much about those kids getting clean.
One of the teachers must have noticed my undivided attention given to those little students. He approached me and we exchanged teacher-talk for a while. This was so awesome. First of all, I had the opportunity to compliment him. I could see that he was such a caring teacher, he truly gave with all his heart. Then, I got to ask him all the questions I could think of, that I was able to say in Spanish. He was so eager to answer me (and even invited me to the school!) and from him I learned that all the kids in the school are extremely poor. They come from the indigenous villages surrounding Lares. Most of them walk for several miles (literally) every day to get to school. All the teachers at the school have to be bilingual because many of the students don't speak Spanish very well (only Quechua is spoken at home). Most of them stay in school for a few years, until they learn to read and write, and then stay at home to help their families with farm work. It was a really interesting conversation, and it made me so happy to have that exchange with such an enthusiastic person serving an indigenous community.

After a few hours at the hot springs, we began the actual trekking part of our trek, at 3,100 m. Our cook went a different route, where he met our horseman (whom we later learned was in fact a horseboy) and the two horses that carried our camping equipment and food.

Day One of trekking consisted of three hours of walking gradually uphill, but also occasionally on flat ground. The views of the Lares Valley were incredible. Our guide stopped occasionally to tell us about different plants and how the Incas used them.

Our path was alongside this pounding, rushing, awesome river

At around 3pm, we arrived at the tiny indigenous village of Huacahuasi (3,800 m), which was where we were going to camp for the night.

Ryan, of course, immediately bought a beer:

Our tents set up, just before it got crazy windy and cold:

Although it was still early, it quickly got dark. We sat on the edge overlooking the river and watched these two amazing young boys entertain themselves with toy trucks hanging from ropes. They looked so happy from whatever simple game they'd invented, and seeing this easy joy made me and Ryan really happy too.

Watching:

Boys in the freezing river:

We saw the women come home from the fields:

We watched the pigs:

We slept well in our tent that night. We were exhausted from waking up at 2:30am that morning! On Day Two, we were up by 6am, getting ready for the longest and hardest day of the trek.

Brushing my teeth:

After breakfast, we gave all our leftover food to a few of the kids in the village. They all said thank you each time they were given something.

Ryan told this group of kids: "Necesitan compartir, por favor." (And they shared.)

And they were happy!

It was hard to leave those kids, in a way. They were so grateful for the tiniest things we gave them. It was really neat to be able to spend one evening and one morning in their world.

We began walking shortly after 7am. This was the hardest day because we had to get over the highest pass of the entire journey, 4,400 m (14,435 ft). The beginning was really incredible because as we were leaving the village, we passed by llamas and alpacas!

Ryan and our guide, leaving the village:

Awesome views:

Ryan leading the way:

Taking a break, enjoying the view:

It was really neat to occasionally run into people. (Maybe one person every hour or two hours.) They were almost always walking alone, or with a few animals. Some of them asked us for coca leaves to chew on (to help with the altitude). Everyone said good morning and was very kind. We didn't see any other foreigners. It felt like we were the only gringos in the whole valley...getting a peek into another way of life.

After about the first two or three hours of trekking, it started getting a little more difficult. The ascents were steeper, and with each step higher there was a little less oxygen in the air. In those hardest hours, we did not stop to take any pictures. And then, in our final hour before reaching the highest pass, it started sleeting! At first it might have been rain, but then what was falling from the sky were little tiny bits of ice. With the sleet coming down, we slowly made it to the highest pass. Neither of us suffered from any altitude problems. It was just the expected struggle for oxygen.

The sleet gave way to rain when we stood at the highest point, and neither of us took the risk of taking out our cameras. Instead, we stood at the highest point for a minute, and then began the steep descent down the other side of the mountain. The rain and sleet turned the winding path into a muddy, flowing stream. I was so scared that I was going to slip! Of course, I was the slowest one. By far.

Eventually, the rain/sleet mostly stopped. Here is what we saw before us as we descended from the pass:

And there were snowcapped mountains in the distance!

We passed a second beautiful lake, which is where we stopped for lunch. It was our first big break in over five hours of hiking, and it was in a very, very cold and windy place. I almost wanted to keep walking just to avoid the stabbing cold. But boy was I exhausted.

Here I am freezing my butt off, waiting for some delicious hot soup.

We had a long lunch break, where we ingested lots of hot, yummy things. Then it was time to keep walking to our camp site for the night. One of the two horses didn't want to carry the load. I felt so bad for her. Here's our cook and horseboy finally managing to put the load on her back with her eyes covered.

The walk from the lunch spot to our camp site was entirely downhill and no big deal. We arrived at around 4pm or so, and it was starting to get cold. That night was really, really, really cold. We put on all our layers!

Here we are eating breakfast the next morning:

Day Three was quite easy. The entire trek was downhill, which meant that our calves were killing us by the end of the day. It was really awesome, though, to see how the landscape and temperature changed as we descended into the Sacred Valley.



Our trek ended mid-day of Day Three. We arrived at Yanahuara and celebrated with a traditional Inca corn drink called chicha (the red one is strawberry flavored!)

It was an amazing adventure! We saw so many beautiful pieces of nature and culture.

We took the train from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes (the town closest to Machu Picchu). I wanted to include Machu Picchu here, but this has already gotten so long, and I think Machu Picchu deserves an entry of its own.

Islas Ballestas and Huacachina

After Lunahuana, we continued working our way south, to the town of Pisco. Pisco used to be a beautiful, quiet, lovely place to visit colonial buildings and enjoy the Pacific. Three years ago it was practically wiped out by an 8.0 earthquake, which the town is now still very much recovering from. Today, the only appeal in going to Pisco is for a boat tour of Islas Ballestas, a place referred to as “the poor man’s Galapagos.” That nickname implies a variety of species that you’ve never seen before…that could blow your mind in their strangeness and beauty! Or, at least, that’s what I was hoping for.

Well, Islas Ballestas didn’t blow my mind, but it was nice to be surrounded by animals for an hour…animals in their natural habitat. That is special. The tour of the islands is entirely in the boat. Since you can’t get out, the species of these jutting rocks can live in peace, without being poked by tourists. That is very nice.

The sea lions were our favorite!

Check out the cute little penguins:

Interestingly enough, the birds of these islands create a product that is exported from Peru: their poop. Apparently, in the mid-1800s, guano from these islands was Peru’s biggest export! It is an excellent fertilizer. Today, however, guano extraction is regulated and is only taken from the islands once every few years.

After a couple days in Pisco, we continued south to Huacachina. Huacachina was once a big resorty-type get away for elite Peruvians. Today it caters to backpackers, and it is indeed full of budget travelers looking for a good time. The highlight of Huacachina is going sandboarding!

This little backpacker’s haven has a central “lagoon” that serves as a sort of town plaza. Hostels, bars, and neat cafes extend one block out from the lagoon. Beyond that, sand dunes seem to extend forever.

On our first day in town, we decided to climb up the sand dune near our hostel to get a view of Huacachina. You look up at the sand and it seems like no big deal. Climbing those dunes is much, much harder than it seems! Your feet sink in and it takes so much more effort than you expect to pull them up and take another step forward. We had to stop and catch our breath every few steps. But the view from the top is quite remarkable.

Ryan climbing up:

Taking a breather:

View from the top:

Looking down on Huacachina:

Later that day we hung out in hammocks and enjoyed the feeling of being in a kind of oasis in the desert. We read and wrote a lot….lovely and relaxing!

Hammock journaling:

Our plans were to go sandboarding the next day, but I ended up getting really sick our first night in Huacachina. By early evening, I could feel that something was wrong with my body. I couldn’t quite identify the source of the feeling, but I knew that dinner was out of the question for me, and that it was probably going to be a long night.

In anticipation of and preparation for a night of sickness, I decided that what I needed was a comfort book. I wanted a short, easy-to-read, yet wonderful novel to help me get through the night. I wanted it to be something I’d already read, that I knew I would love, that I knew would comfort me like the coziest blanket or best hug in the world. I considered several different books, until I finally arrived at what I knew was exactly the book I needed: The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I’d read this book my junior year in college for a “New York Literature” class I took, and loved it. So, with the brilliant convenience of immediate access to the electronic version, I purchased The Namesake on my kindle, curled up under the blankets, and began reading. Immediately I was swept into that world and was so moved by Jhumpa Lahiri’s ease with words…how she makes it seem so simple to construct flowing prose, with paragraphs rich in detail and imagery and never short on perfect descriptions of developing emotions and struggles. How can I explain why I find it so good? It’s good because it’s so easy to read, yet if you linger on each sentence, you can see how composed and constructed it all is. How everything fits together as it pulls you in. I love stories that take me away from my world momentarily. The beauty of Lahiri’s work is that she takes you away, but then she puts you right back in to your reality. It is not a true escape. It’s more like diving deeper into yourself.

Anyway, I read into the night, while Ryan fell asleep. Soon enough, as predicted, I found myself in the bathroom. I was basically sick all night, in and out of the bathroom. Ryan went down to the tienda in the middle of the night, in his pajamas, half-asleep, to buy me bottles of water.

It was a long, long night. I got too exhausted to read, so I watched Animal Planet, dubbed over in Spanish. The next morning, I wasn’t sick anymore, but I had no energy at all. I spent the entire day in bed with The Namesake and a couple bad movies. Ryan let me recover and he soaked up the sun, reading.


Needless to say, sandboarding was postponed.

We did finally go sandboarding another day, though, when I had my energy back. I guess a part of my brain was still sleeping, though, because the battery in my camera was nearly dead, and I forgot to pack an extra battery in my case. I was so bummed because there we were, surrounded by sand dunes, about to fly down slopes of sand on snowboards, and no pictures! But in the end, it was nice to just be in the moment. We had so much fun together, and didn’t have to think about capturing the moment with photographs. We were just in it.

One photo before the battery died. That's our dune buggy and driver behind me:

The driver of our dune buggy was completely insane. He went so crazily fast on really steep dips and climbs! Ryan and I were in the buggy with a few Israelis and a couple dudes from Europe. All of us were screaming on the wild drive. It was like a really long, sandy, seemingly unending rollercoaster ride...with no tracks. The kind where your stomach drops. A lot.

After the crazy dune buggy ride, we were dropped off by our driver at the top of a dune. He gave each of us a snowboard with velcro straps. He waxed the bottom of the boards. And down we went! The most popular way to sandboard down the slopes was not standing on the board, with shoes strapped in. Nope! Most people went down the slopes lying down on the board, HEAD FIRST.

We went down about eight slopes, and tried both ways (standing and lying down). Standing up was more of a challenge (that involved lots of falls), but going down on our bellies was definitely more fun. The very last slope was super steep and pretty scary. Ryan was thinking about the saying that parents tell their kids: If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you do it too? Our answer? YES, and head first. Ryan said: The only thing to fear is fear itself. So, we just held on tightly to our boards and let gravity take control.

Sandboarding was a blast! Our buggy driver drove us back to the lagoon, and we walked away with sand in our hair, ears, clothes, shoes, everywhere.

This was our closing event in the “south of lima” region. The next day we boarded a bus bound for Cusco. The bus climbed and wound its way through the mountains, driving higher than 4,000 meters above sea level. We finally arrived in Cusco 18 hours later, with headaches, backaches, dry noses, and very little energy. But excited to make plans for a trek to Machu Picchu!