Why the Salkantay trek is harder than the Inca Trail (but worth it)

Ahhhh. Words cannot express how good it feels to be clean again, to be wearing impractical clothes, and to have slept in a bed last night. May I never forget how amazing it is to have a bed, a shower and electric lights, and how truly, truly incredible an invention is the toilet.

Yes, camping was not for me. Surprise! Though actually it was alright on the last night, when I’d more or less grown used to it, and it was, for once, almost warm (so warm I didn’t wake up at 2am when my hot water bottle had gone stone cold, trembling all over. Luxury!).

I had, however, been stung by a bee for the first time in my life, which was very painful, a little embarrassing, and now annoying as it’s rather hard to type with one finger swollen to twice its normal size. 

Pain did indeed play its part in the trek. Pain of burning muscles struggling to exert themselves more than they know how. Pain of feet trapped in the same shoes for five very long days. Pain of body in general, exposed to extreme cold, blazing sun and insects, and allowed no respite even in the night, forced into a silk-lined straitjacket upon a bed of frozen mud. 

But it was beautiful. The vast white mountain Salkantay (“savage” in Quechua, and it looked it, harsh and bright and unsympathetic to your obligatory plight), the foggy moors, the cloud forests, the endless, endless Andes.

The night sky on our first night was the most stunning I’ve ever seen, anywhere in the world. It’s tempting to stay inside your tent and out of the biting cold, but my advice to anyone is to brave it and check if you’ve got a clear, moonless night.

To be honest, if it hadn’t been so lovely, and diverse, the whole experience would have been a lot more punishing. Covering long distances on mountain paths every day, I spent most of my time focusing on the trail and trying to keep from falling, trying to breathe properly, trying not to curse the beautiful mountains.

It turned out to be about 65km that we walked, with the highest pass at 4600m – the days were long and the paths were steep. I am glad I did it, and I am quite proud of myself, but it will probably be a very long while before I consider doing it again.

There were at least five times when I cried with all conviction that I couldn’t go on, and far more when I had to sing songs in my head to distract myself from the seeming impossibility of it all (I was not a sociable trekker). But I did it, and I’m not sure I ever believed I could. Mostly, now, I feel immense relief. And amazement that going to the toilet can be so stress-free.

Anyway, so we walked a lot and slept a little, and then yesterday we awoke at 4am and climbed a mountain as usual, and there was Machu Picchu. Which again feels beyond description.

Machu Picchu is just stunning – it was fascinating and awesome in the true sense of the word. We arrived to find thick mist and pale dawn light, and gradually it revealed itself to us, larger and more complex than I’d expected, mystical and atmospheric despite all the tourists.

Of which there were already many, surprisingly, and I dread to think what it was like later in the day as the trains from Cusco started arriving. Even at dawn, the hordes were streaming in from above, fresh from the Inca Trail and looking rather smug (despite having only walked about 42km – pff! tch! I scoff in the face of 42!).

We spent about four hours in Machu Picchu – not nearly enough in my opinion – first listening to an unusually interesting guide (who mentioned that someone once ran the Inca Trail in three hours, hah), then explored, took a ludicrous number of photos, stroked the llamas, marvelled at the abilities of the Incas, and then back to Cusco we came, feeling a bit weird at using motorised vehicles again.

We stumbled back into civilisation, exhausted and aching and dreaming of rest. And then we went out clubbing. I don’t quite know how it happened; one minute we were having dinner, then I was ordering my third cuba libre, and then all of a sudden I was on a dance floor in a Peruvian disco, getting down to Manu Chao. 

The details

• We went with Llama Path, and they were great (I don’t get any commission for recommending them, I just really liked them!). At the time they were the cheapest reputable tour agency we could find, with an environmentally friendly ethos and small groups. 
• The Salkantay Trek took five days, whereas the classic Inca Trail trek takes four. If you’re reasonably fit I’m sure you’ll be fine – I struggled because I’d never really trekked before and probably hadn’t had enough time to acclimatise to the altitude. Do spend as much time in Cusco as you can before setting off.
• Why choose Salkantay over the Inca Trail? To be honest, initially it was because we found it hard to get an Inca Trail permit – they’re so restricted. But in the end, we’re so glad we did. It’s often cheaper despite the extra day in length, you see more – every day is different – and it’s much less crowded than the Inca Trail (do you really imagine your first view of Machu Picchu being from the back of a long queue of people?).
• Looking to get even further off the beaten path? Also worth considering is the Lares trek.