Sky Meets Ground - Uyuni Salt Flats Trip - 21st - 24th

I arrived late into Uyuni after a boring, uncomfortable 6 hour drive. I had a 2.5 hour break in Potosi where I experience probably the most dismal weather I have to date, completely dark and rainy all afternoon. Here I changed buses and met some eccentric Brazilians that were good company although communication was difficult. Upon arrival after midnight in Uyuni the Brazilians and and I quickly found a place to stay and I picked up a stray Malaysian that seemed lost and told her to join us, being the only other English speaker on the bus.

The next day I awoke to find Brazilians everywhere, they were taking over the hostel. Over the next 3 days on the Salt Flats I mainly met Brazilians, flocks of tattoo clad, loud mouthed Brazilians. They Malaysian girl and I awoke early and immediately arranged a 3 day Salt Flats tour for the same day, so I was in and out of Uyuni in under 12 hours, which was nice, no need to kick around another ghost town and watch the tumbleweed roll by, and get harassed by every local offering Salt Flats tours in pathetic English. I left with all my stuff planning on carrying directly on to San Pedro de Atacama, just on the other side of the Chilean border, wedged in the desert, surviving solely on tourism or else it to would dry up and fall apart like everything else in the Driest dessert in the world. Anyway we embarked that morning at around 11, we were a group of 6 people, 1 Spanish, 1 Malaysian, 1 English-Chinaman born in France, Myself!, and of course, a couple (Brazilian). We were in an all wheel drive toyota jeep that held 8 people. The other 2 being the driver/guide, and another Bolivian who, I am not quite sure what he was there for, I never saw him do anything and he hardly talked, he only stayed for the first day.

We set out to the Salt Flats about a 15 minute drive west of town. on the edges of the flats were where we stopped first and saw a lot of the salt refining going on. Large trucks sat all over the area with mounds of salt dotting the ground for several hundreds of meters. The salt on the ground, being actually quite brown, would be scraped up into mounds. From here water, mainly from rainfall, would land on top and sift through the mounds, acting kind of like a purification method. The salt in these mounds are sizeable crystals that have a veery strong flavour.I was dissapointed to see how dirty the floor of the flats were, I thought it was supposed to be white! everywhere! what is this? We continued on after photos, had a few more stops... more photos, then started driving, directly out into the middle of the flats, on a salt path, hardened and packed down from the weight of numerous vehicles driving over the same path for immense lengths of time.

This is when it began to get interesting...

Driving out into the middle of this flat expanse. The salt around us began to get whiter and clean. As we put the salt mounds behind us and drove straight into the middle of this enormous plain it was clear just how massive it was. Now purely white, the salt went on forever touching the distant mountains and hills on the horizon, dozens of kilometers away, hours in the jeep. We stopped and had lunch at the Hotel de Sal, a small building and restaurant completely made of salt bricks. Here many jeeps had stopped to take a break and people were everywhere, running around, taking photos. After lunch we embarked again, the dark clouds behind us.Hoping it was not going to break out in rain and ruin the trip we sped, racing the clouds. When there is rain (which there is more of December through February), the rain sits on top of the salt flats hopefully acting as mirror, although the right amount of water is key, a bit too much, and the jeeps cannot continue and shorten the trip. Luckily we had no rain today, yet also luckily, we had rain the day before, the whole day in Potosi... As we kept driving looking out to the sides, dry salt under us, in distant areas water could be seen and parts of nearby volcanoes were shown on the ground. As we got further in the reflections on the left and right slowly grew larger and stronger, then all of a sudden I look forward and there is a lake of water, as far as the eye can see. The entire horizon and view in front is shining of the floor. and we are heading straight for it. The sky cleared up and it was beautiful blue sky with fluffy white clouds. As we got further in, now surrounded by inch deep water, the view was mind blowing, all the people in the vehicle had their faces pressed to the windows, necks craned to see what they could see, whispering and muttering profanities out of astonishment, only swear words seemed to express the level of amazement in our hearts... Cameras flying left and right trying to catch it all. Not long in,we stopped where 2 other jeeps had already parked, on long strip of salt that rose slightly above the water, like an island. Here both the other jeeps were broken, one with engine problems, the other a flat tire, us we were scott-free.Stepping off, out into this expanse was impressive. looking around and feeling as if you are standing on water, on a lake, it does not feel like ground. Off in the distance there is only sky, the ground has become a complete and perfect mirror of the sky, to every detail, without flaws. As I began to walk out into the space, for it was space, neither negative or positive, there is nothing for the mind to logical connect to the physical world. You are simply walking out into space, an unchanging picture, a symmetrical picture lying unperturbed by your presence. One could walk forever, wanting only to continue walking through space to reach out and touch the picture that is surreally displayed before him. Small salt islands rose up above the thin layer of water, dotting certain places and creating minor patches in the space, holes of white. I stood starring out for many minutes, not feeling alive, or dead, not feeling conscious, but simply being, here, in this dream state, for what else could it be, I am walking on nothing, on the clouds, in the sky, surrounded by the sky. Feeling almost high from the feeling, the only thing that would bring me back down was looking down. Through the shimmering water the salt could be seen again, the ground found, octagonal and pentagonal shapes made up the salt floor, dividing it into a puzzle or even a membrane. Looking back at the trucks and the people silently walking around,taking it in,quietly talking to each other, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence of the flats. From this distance the keeps and people were full reflected on the ground, their bodies and mirrored bodies moving in unison, much like a shadow but with more detail.

This was one of the most powerful feelings I have felt. A feeling that is thrust upon the body and mind, created not by any substance or catalyst forcing the change, but a change that is subtle and comes simply from doing something or seeing something that is unwordly, this is a powerful feeling. I felt it once on the Inca Trail and even there, though different, was similarly as memorable and fierce. I think many people look for this feeling in travelling, it is the desired outcome. People do different things to try to reach this point although some don´t know what to do when they get there. Often they just get trigger happy with the camera and look more through the lens than they do their eyes. This I have seen to much and it is disappointing just to watch, buzz-kill.

We continued on to La Isla de Pescado (fish island) named so for the look of the island from afar when there is a good reflection on the floor. This island made of volcanic rock set there for likely for the last god knows how long, is covered with enormous cacti stretching up to 12 meters in height. By this time we had driven out of the water covered area and back onto dry, white expanse. Walking around the island was nice, a strange feeling being on that type of island, literally sitting alone in the middle of the lifeless salt. The cacti were everywhere, standing like giant people motionless, their figures and silhouettes seen all over the island, a population, a reserve of life. Standing next to these beasts, I myself felt dwarfed, think about the Asian in the group who was naturally dwarfed by the world. ,yself and now even more so by these behemoths, some of them dating back thousands of years!

The rest of the salt experience was just hours of driving on and off of water patches, pooling up in seemingly random areas, enormous beads of water droplets slowly permeating through a white membrane to get to the other side. We arrived to our lodge in the late afternoon. The lodge was completely made of salt bricks, the tables and stools as well, I actually never asked how these bricks were made, although they were quite impressive and very effective insulation, inside was held at a perfect temperature, while the outdoors were quite brisk from the wind. The next morning we took off early, although after 45minutes had to turn back because of a forgotten Iphone. We returned and it was nowhere to be found, whether it disappeared or someone at the lodge saw an opportunity to move up in the world, nobody will ever know.

The next 2 days of the the trip were long and relatively uneventful in comparison. We visited mainly lagoons of different colours. The large yet, unbelieveable shallow waters were red or green from different minerals that lay therein. The depth of the waters was usually 50 centimeters only. Flocks of flamingos nonchalantly grazed around dipping and rising to fetch their mini prey out of the water. In these days the hours spent in the jeep were long and slow, the means of travel got tiresome by the end. The change in scenery as we got further south was impressive as we life became more and more scarce and we the earth began to dry up into dirt and sand as we neared the great Atacama dessert to the south. We stopped to visit gysers and natural hot springs which were very relaxing and refreshing. The highlight of the night before was the lodge, much less pretty than the one on the first night. This lodge had light for only a few hours, toilets that lacked water, and food that contained impressively long hair woven in and around the food in which it occupied. Luckily the fully Brazilian group got their food before us, so we got the heads up. We quickly put in a request that food without hair would be preferable. We ate spaghetti w/o hair and were gifted with a bottle of wine by our guide.


The transfer to San Pedro was relatively long-lasting and tedious, entry to Chile is slightly more strict than other countries in the continent. Although all said and done, I ended in San Pedro and carried on with Thomas, the English-chinaman born in France, we agreed that would stay here for Christmas, we also agreed that it would be better off if we could just skip the day and carry on, both knowing it would be a bit of a downer.

Sucre 19th-21st

I decided that taking the plane back to La Paz would be a preferable option. I mean I had already risked the fatal bus ride once, with that experience under my belt I hardly saw the point in doing it the way back as well. The plane was much more expensive but lasted only a mere 35 minutes or so, flying more or less straight up to El Alto, the highest airport in the world. Coming from Rurre at just over 100 metres, going back, directly, to El Alto at 4000 was an enormous change. Upon arrival I spent the afternoon simply recovering to the change. That same evening I met my friends from the jungle trip at the bus station. We were all planning on heading to Sucre together, it was nice to have a group to travel with for the next few days. The night bus to Sucre was about 12 hours with a bright, cloudless night sky shining down on plateaus and hills. Sucre is the constitutional capital of Bolivia and calls itself the capital. This leaves me quite confused at what is the capital city of Bolivia. I guess they have 2. Sucre has only around 200,000 people not making it a huge city, yet it is hailed to be the most attractive. All the buildings that are even close to the city centrre are painted white. The whitr city. It waz quite nice, and relaxing, although finding anything was impossible. Everytime you asked anyone where anything was, either they wouldnt know or they were give you aweful directions or false information. After 2.5 days of this I got completely fed up with the city and its pathetically unknowledgeable and unhelpful inhabitants. "Excuse me sir, do you know where I can find some cigars?"

"Umm yes they can be found in the main supermarket 2 blocks this way then 3 blocks up"

Once findjng the supermarket and asking if they sold cigars they would tell us that they did not, but you could find some this other location... Which did not sell cigars either! This happened for numerous other things. I use cigars only as the primary example.

When not inspired to stay in Sucre and do anything activity-wise.I took the next available bus to Uyuni, and splitting up the group on account of us going different ways or at different paces. I was looking forward to Uyuni where lay the famed salt flats, the primary tourist excursion in the nation of Bolivia. The Largest Salt Flats in the world. I said goodbye to my German and Australian companions expecting I may see them again along the road

La Paz and Around (December 8 - Present)

When I awoke in the the dark, dank room I immediately felt the wooden boards through the awefully thin mattress. They had been digging into my lower back all night and made rising out of bed difficult. I looked around me and decided this was THE worst hostal I had been in so far. There was hardly any light from lack of windows and it smelt of old mold. The paint was chipping off th walls surrounding me. I was glad I would only be staying that one night. I was in Coroico, just north of La Paz in the lower green mountains called Las Yungas. The scenery was extraordinary with the town sitting at the top of one of these mountains. Looking back, the previous few days had flowed well one to the next.

Upon arrival to La Paz I knew that this city was going to be something different. Occupying a valley and all the walls leading up out of this valley was La Paz, the highest capital city in the world. Above this valley, on the plateau, was El alto, the poor, dense section of the city surrounding La Paz. The city of La Paz, an authentic south american city. Locals controlled the streets, far more here than in other cities. Tourists were rare to see walking about. The streets full of cars and people. The sidewalks full of stores extending their goods out as far as they can onto the sidewalk making the sidewalk practically unusable for pedestrians. Noise, movement, bodies. All this is constant in the streets of La Paz, yet I loved it. Markets and shopps lay everywhere, markets were all over the place. Anything one needed to find was there in tenfold. The atmosphere was so real here that I could not get enough of it. By far the most powerful large city I have seen so far. Yet La Paz is not that large, with a population of under 1 million people only, it felt like much more by the amount of constant commotion, much more so that Lima, for example, who held an enormous population of nearly 10 million... La Paz was home to the worlds most dangerous rode, likely the most common tourist attraction/activity in La Paz. Many prices, correction ALL prices were too much in comparison to other trips, although it is always recommended. Agencies provide clothing, protection, food, and bikes (varrying in quality). I took the best bike I could buy after my last experience with biking in Cuzco. It proved to be relatively unneccisary although I do not regret having full suspension. It was a bumpy ride although sections of the trail I took near Cuzco was much more rivetting and terrifying. With a bit of consideration, there would be no problems on the DEATH ROAD. It was fun, but upon finishing it I had higher expectations from what people told me. Nevertheless many people have died (mainly driving like maniacs down the road in vehicles to fall and crash to their death hundreds of meters below....) by the way all drivers in Bolivia are maniacs, dont even get me started, absolutely AWEFUL, crazy basterds... I am truly suprised they do not have more accidents and higher death rates seeing they way they control their machines..crazy basterds...Anyway I ended the death road and took a cab up to the nearby Coroico where I would spend the next aweful night and chase around the next morning looking for the next possible way to get North to Rurrenabaque where trips could be taken into the famed Madidi National Park for a jungle experience.

The day spent getting to Rurre was long and proved to be much harder than I expected. Although I did not go it alone. I ran into two other foolish travellers, like myself, who wanted to brave the famous terrible drive to Rurre. Spending about 12 hours total driving, in the blazing heat on what I would imagine, must be the worlds second most dangerous road. The road was extremely narrow and bumpy with no protection to sheer drop down the valley on the left hand side. Windy our way around the valley walls felt like an eternity. Sleep was impossible, with each time one put his head on the headrest it would be promply shot back up again violently, or if not, it would be the entire body... All in all, we arrived... alive.... late at night in Rurre, I tell you, i have never been more eager to get out of a vehicle. Ours lasted only 12 hours, I met a man who spent 30 hours on the ride, they had to wait for a MUDSLIDE to be cleared. others stopped and fixed SUSPENSION problems or change a malfunctioning WHEEL.... Bolivia right....

Rurre was a cool sortof carribean town, yet feeling sort of western with motorcycles controlling the streets more than cars or trucks. It was as if they were modern cowbows, showing of their steed or their prized woman sitting on the back. Good jokes. Here I relaxed happily and felt the difference from the last 3 weeks of altitude. I could breathe again. And sweat. It is damn hot here! and humid! being near the jungle! My second day in town I went up river for 3 days into the Jungle. This was a different experience although not exactly what I had wanted. Having a set camp with destination-less walks all day then a return for food, then more destination-less walks was not what I wanted. That being said the jungle is an amazing thing and I did want to experience something there so it was what it was. Seeing animals on this particular trip is quite rare, one needs a good guide and everyone needs to be rather stealthy and very lucky. In all we heard a few boars and saw some monkeys at a distant jumping around the trees. Seeing things persay is a hard way to describe in the jungle. The density of the vegitation and the expansion of the green endless eternity is forever. Tourists are left to peer hopefully through thousands of leaves to see the creature that is making that strange and terrible noise. It is quite intriguing though, walking through the jungle and constantly hearing things around you, from above or around, close or far, loud or quiet. And it is always impossible to picture the creature that is creating that sounds. It could be big or small, ugly or cute, who knows... The mysteries of the jungle or interesting and I would like to explore them more if given the chance. It was a good introduction to the rainforest, although that encounter alone will not suffice for my lifetime... I returned to Rurre with new found friends, that we would plan the next step together.

Copacabana and the Isla Del Sol (December 5th-8th)

Crossing the border into Bolivia was absolutely painless and went by suprisingly quickly. I am glad to be Canadian, all Americans have to jump through hoops to get into the country, ultimately paying a total of $135 to cross the border. I believe the Bolivian Government does this simply to even the score because of the difficulty which Bolivian citizens go to to enter the United States. Likely from the United States ¨War On Drugs¨.


Anyways, Copacabana was very relaxing, that much was clear immediately upon getting of the bus. I had a chance meeting in the Puno bus station with a couple who was in my group on the Inca Trail. We bothed laughed at the coincidence, we were coming from completely different directions! So when we got to Copacabana we found a hostel together and settled in. That day was spent wandering the small pedestrian filled streets of Copacabana. The streets were full off hostals, restaurants and street venders. Much like Peru, except here the street venders would not constantly harrass the passing tourists to spend spend spend. This made it much more appealing to actually shop and look around at the products, my neck felt a bit cooler without an expectant old Peruvian man or woman breathing down it constantly. After lunch I felt exhausted and slightly off. I went back to the hostal and had a nap. When I woke up I was freezing and struggling to warm up. I threw on all my clothes and after a short period of time was waay to warm. Long story short, I spent the rest of the evening in bed, with a fever, too weak to move.
________________
December 5th - Copacabana - Bolivia

This sickness has got me down but not out. It is a dopplegange, changing at all times, coming and going in different forms, what else is there to experience!? The last months I have been through it all. All forms of wretched sickly induced despair. My spirit continues to hold strong suprisingly, although for how long, I can never be sure. You never know what will be thrown at you next. The joys of travel! To fight and win. The winning is key, even when you may be losing, you must still win, somehow. I have faith... if that faith is ever lost, thats when you´re in real trouble....

From Journal
________________

Anyway I didn´t get much sleep either, sore tonsilitusy throat and throbbing ear make pain relatively constant. The next day, my friends, Guido and Laura went to the Isla for the day. I relaxed in the morning and felt up to taking the afternoon boat there. I bought some antibiotics and anti-inflammatory for my throat. The pharmacies in peru are small, but you can find anything in them for cheap and buy it quickly and simply over the counter. Gotta love that.

I spent the next 24 hours or so on the Isla, which was very amazing at times and frustrating at times as well, just from not having a lot of energy to do as much as I wish I could have. I took the boat to the north side of the island and stayed over night in the small town there. The island has a very flowing shape canstantly forming bays and peninsulas, one after another after another. Sand beaches can be seen from below with steep rock faces that shoot up to high view points. Sitting and watching the sun set on this magnificent sight, dark blue waters extending towards the horizon, with shore or other islands poking through the mist miles away. Sitting in an old Inka Labyrynth as the sun turns the sky into a multitude of different shades of pink and orange. Walking back through the winding path by flashlight was tranquil. Coming across few other people on the path ever. The night silence was very tranquil as the almost full moon practically made the light unneccissary. The next day I woke early and walked to the south side in about 4 hours to the south side. I relaxed for the afternoon and read in the sun. Arriving back in Copacabana was nice, although if I had had more energy and time I would have happily stayed on the island for longer. It was cheaper to stay on the island, plus if you brought a tent, there were plenty of places to pitch it and stay for free. A very beautiful scenic island.

I returned back to Copacabana and changed hostels to something cheaper, so in dollars, that cheaper than cheap...cause its Bolivia. I spent around 5 dollars for the night, and thats not even the cheapest that could be found. I befriended some Norwegan youth and we went out for dinner and beer. Great conversations and laughs took me late into the night. I went to bed content although dissappointed that these guys too would not be around for long. The kinds of guys that I would be happy with spending the next 4 months with. But different directions and plans stop that from being a reality. Felt a bit alone again as I hopped onto my bus that would take me to La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, highest Capital City in the World. Although I had planned in advance to meet my German friend from Nazca, Karl and his friend Johannes there. I had ran into them briefly and randomly in Cuzco on my last day there, another chance encounter! Gotta love those.
La Paz, home of the worlds most dangerous road, which travellers pay and take mountain bikes down for the day. I was looking forward to that!

Puno and Islands (December 2nd - 5th)

I got into Puno feeling good and met up with to Mexican Canadians who were living in Montreal and were Concordia and McGill students respectively. Puno being a dirty town with nothing ispirational worth seeing in it, we did not do much that first evening, just went out to dinner and talked about Montreal and Concordia mainly, being one of the schools I am interested in. I returned to the hostel early after suddenly feeling tired and drained.

The next day the two Canadians did their one day island trip and I did my 2 day so we separated. I felt pretty weak and in a terrible mood in the morning. The first stop was to the floating Uros islands about a 30 minute boatride out of port. These floating islands made by the uros people to keep away from the Inca culture when they were expanding and consuming communities of people around Peru and Bolivia to make the Empire that they were famous for obtaining. These Uros islands are quite impressive but because of my poor mood I hardly cared at that point in time. The people create their homes, their boats and the islands that they live on out of reeds, (they eat the reeds too! it tastes like water and is said to produce diarrhea in gringos, so I didn´t try to much of it, I´m trying to recover remember). Anyways, they swim underwater to the root of the reeds and cut underneath them to loosen these block like roots of the floor of the lake, once loose these root blocks float to the surface. With many layers and many blocks tied together they have a big floaty which they layer the top of many reeds and build their little huts ontop of. They then somhow anchor the island down so that it doesn´t drift away into the middle of nowhere leaving them stranded and left for dead. Each island lives about 15 to 20 years, over time the base of the island begins to deteriorate and lose its necissary floating ability. They are forced to begin the process of making another. There about 50-60 of these islands all close together. Now it was neat to learn this but I found it quite annoying how the people changed to accomodate tourism, all they do is take in tourists to sell stuff. It felt very fake, everywhere looking around these islands there were tourists boats everywhere. It was pathetic, joke of an experience and none of the tourists even noticed or cared. I had little respect for them or the people. But everyone needs to eat so......

Next stop was Island Amantani, which was a rediculously long ride because of our stupidly slow boat. I was paired with a guy from Lima and we stayed together with a host family for the night, which they provide food and accomodation. Now this was a real experience and I woke up the next morning feeling quite fulfulled. We had a good connection with our family. Thanks to my ability to communicate I was able to actually learn their way of life, their struggles, their poverty. This was touching. We spent the evening hiking to the highest point of the island to have a lookout which was quite impressive for sundown. Lake Titicaca being one of the highest navigatable lakes in the world sitting around 3900 metres ASL and the second largest lake in South America. The sacred inca lake where it is said that their gods were born.

The next day was rather pointless, visiting another island for a walk and lunch. Nice view, nice island, but it felt like filler. We caught the boat back which took around 3 HOURS.... I would sleep for 30 minutes look at the distance we had travelled and ask myself, have we moved at all, that cursed boat should be sunk. It was a nice trip, although I definitely was still feeling effects of being sick. It was not over yet. I went back to the hostel and relaxed for the afternoon and evening fighting against a fever and knowing I wanted to feel better for the next day, an early bus to Copacabana the Bolivian side of the lake, which is said by everyone to be nicer. About one month in and I am leaving Peru. Next stop Bolivia and the Isla del Sol in Copacabana.

Peru Clinic

I wasn´t planning on spending my last night in Peru in a hospital bed, but it was more comfortable than the bed at my hostel, i´ll tell you that. I actually fit in it. After spending one night vomiting I decided I would do what it takes to get actual assitance and everyone I had talked to said the hospitals were great, ¨A real good experience¨, so I firgured I would give it a shot. A doctor came to my hostel and diagnosed me with travellers diarrhea and said I would have to spend the night at a clinic. I agreed on one condition, that I could leave early to catch my bus the next day to Puno. I was escorted to the private, expensive clinic, probably where they bring all the tourists. I was given a room, catered to by 4 or 5 nurses, given television and good food. When I asked for internet they brought me in a personal netbook. They said I would be feeling 90 percent better the next morning. I believed them. It all felt a bit redundant but I just laid back and enjoyed it. I had an IV of hydration salts and antibiotics. I spent the evening chatting with friends and watching clint eastwood movies. It was a good time to say the least. I woke early in the morning and was given antibiotics and probiotics to take for the next week or so. I left on-time for the bus to Puno, feeling 90 percent better.

Cuzco & Macchu Picchu Pt 2 (November 25th - Decemeber 2nd)

Friday was spent preparing for the much anticipated and reverred Inca Trail, which I would be partaking in for the next 4 days and 3 nights. The Inca Trail, claimed to be one of the best trekks around the world usually needs to be booked months in advance and some pay anywhere between 500 and 1000 dollars depending on the season and quality of the trip. Everything is included. Luckily I am not travelling in high season. I neither booked it in advance nor payed 1 billion dollars to do it. I found a decent price of around 300 dollars for the 4 days which was I price that I could not turn down. The next morning we began relatively early at about 6 AM. We drove to KM 82 where we were deployed and would prepare to begin walking. One thing I was not anticipating was having to carry all of my equipment, which I spent hours trying to stuff into my 25L backpack the night before, UNSUCCESSFULLY. I was forced to use my 80L which is extremely large for the amount that I was bringing. That being said, it likely made the trek a more comfortable ride. In the end I was carrying around 13  Kilos including water weight which, believe me, felt heavy by the 4th day! 

The first day was quite light in comparison to the rest of the hike. I was tired by the end of the day but it was a good warmup. The trail followed the Urubamba River and slowly rose into the mountains. The weather was perfect, overcast with no rain, taking the blazing sun factor out of the mix. As we neared our campsite we began to see some Inca ruins from above. It is an immense feeling, knowing that the path I am walking was once traversed daily by the Incan people. the extent or their civilization and networking was astounding considering their lack of tools. Day 2, considered to the most physically exhausting day is roughly 5 hours of ascent walking more or less directly up from the camp site to reach a final height of about 4200 meters 

above.sea level

At the summit it proceeded to hail! for a bout 60 seconds straight and many spanish speaking were whining about a FRIO TERRIBLE or a terrible cold, me , the canadian scoffed and shrugged away this poor excuse for a cool temperature in my shorts and t-shirt. The other side of the pass it began to rain, accompanied with winds, now I gave in and put on some warmer clotthes. The descent was slow because of taking care not to slip on the wet uneven stone steps. Halway down the rain stopped so I stripped completely down again. 3/4 of the way down, it started to rain again, rain jacket back on, damn this emotional weather! The camp was set in a valley where it could be easily seen how far we had descended. It looked like it was miles away. The clouds slowly built up at the bottom of the valley and crept up upon our campsite. An opaque wall of mist overtook the dozens of tents dotted over the valley. Within minutes we were surrounded by fog, directly in the cloud. It is amazing to watch weather work and change before your eyes, within a matter of seconds or minutes, waiting for it to overtake you, knowing it will overtake you.. The afternoon was spent playing cards and napping, hiding from the dank weather outside of the dinner tent. 

Day 3 was the longest, hardest and most powerful day for me, maybe even moreso than Macchu Picchu itself. Again the day started early, as all of them did.We did not arrive in camp that night until around 630 making around 10 hours of hiking up and down, not including breaks and lunch. Today we saw more astonishing ruins and 2 more ascents and descents. The overall descent into a subtropical climate was very evident, the hanging vines, everything covered in thick moss. Valleys and rolling green mountains as far as the eye can see. Clouds at eye level, covering the tops of mountains and creating a type of permeable membrane between the earth and the heavens. I could have sat for hours simply staring... Seeing distant ruins and terraces from a far and slowly but surely getting closer and closer until you are but an ant standing inside of stone buildings or sitting on the edges of green, fertile terraces that descend down the steep mountain side like large steps for giants. Arriving to one point, sitting on the edge of this old agricultural town. Staring, the urubambas rushing waters could always be heard, distant, far, far below, mountains all around. Now do you believe in the Machamama, my guide said to us all. I did then, at that very moment, it wa the perfect example of Mother Nature, and I see it everywhere I go here in Peru, the power of mother nature, and what she has created in this blessed land. It really makes sense why the incas built where they built, with their terraces facing perfectly east to catch the best rays of light and to bask warmly in the sun, always surrounded my the great Pachamama.  This day was enlightening, although coming into camp I felt really off. The rest of the night was followed with vomiting and diarrhea, from what, i am not sure. I went to bed early knowing that I would need the extra rest for day 4. 

3AM came far too early on day 4.  I felt alright, better than the night before. The morning was cool and cloudy, very cloudy. With a short hike ahead of us I was glad that the majority of the work was over, I had no fuel left in the tank., even the 2 small hours to get to Macchu Picchu was difficult. and slow. walking through the jungle like path on the mountain side, through the mist and drizzling rain beading down from above, it felt very mystical and unknown. When reaching the sun gate, where one can see the  famous inca ruins from afar on a clear day, we could see nothing.  An enormous wall of cloud was in the way. Many people were dissappointed, I thought it was quite fitting,. Leaving alot of it to be a question mark.. The Italian in the group Giorgio waited expectantly, rocking back and forth on the steps, saying its gonna clear, its gonna clear, like a child, asking his girlfriend permission to wait another 10 minutes, good laughs. Every so often glimses of the the city could be seen through the clouds for short periods of time. When I walked in I was thrown back by the amazing size of this place. Not long after arriving into the city the clouds clearly completely and it got waay to hot. In my eyes we had perfect weather throughout the entire trip,I wouldnt have changed a thing. Now I will not say much about Macchu Picchu itself, its the kind of thing that is more of a  feeling than an experience. and that feeling I do not completely know how to describe yet. Overwhelming, Stunning, Awesome, these are some words that could describe it. My sickness from the night before began to come back more now and had a poor effect upon the day although I made the most of it. I and a few others spent the most of the day in city, by the afternoon we were all exhausted and curled up to nap for about an hour on the soft, luscious terraces that cover the majority of the land of the old city..  I arrived late in Cuzco that night. and slept like never before!

The inca trail was great. The group was larger than expected, being 19 people with 15 porters that carry the food, equipment, set up tents, cook,. These porters are all quite impressive. short as hell, especially next to me, these guys run this trail with at least 20 kilos on their back. the bags that they carry are larger than themselves. a funny sight. They all wear shitty sandals which their feet have almost deformed out of. Most of them speak mainly Qechua range in age between 18 and 60, all of them being quite ugly beasts, at leat missing a few teeth. All this work and torment on their bodies and they make about 100 soles a day, thats around 40 dollars.... madness. 

The food is famed to be amazing on the inca trail, better than many other hikes. Including a couple different pasta soups, constant tea, popcorn, pancakes, omelettes and meat for main courses. Everyone else on the trip loved the food, myself having camped a lot before and experiencing some incredible camp cooking, thanks to my mom, I thought a lot of the food was relatively mediocre.. My moms cooking definitely wins though, cheers mom. 

Macchu Picchu was astounding althouhg I couldnt help but wonder what made it the most famous, there are other larger and older ruins around the city that are accessible. If I have time on the round trip and money, I will definitely stop in Cuzco again and go to one of these other enormous lost inca cities. I would also recommend the same to other people come here, Dont just assume Macchu Picchu is the best, honestly I doubt it is. It would be much more intriguing to go to a less popular, more remote ruin that was just as big or bigger. Macchu Picchu is filled with people, this takes away a large portion of its power in my eyes. it is the untouched , silent lands that strike me.