Trekking in Colca Canyon

Did you know Peru is home to the world's two deepest canyons? The Cotahuasi and Colca Canyons are situated west of Puno and Lake Titicaca and south of Cusco, cutting into the dusty volcanic landscape and providing a great off-the-beaten track experience for intrepid travellers.

I wasn't quite intrepid enough to go to Cotahuasi, which is harder to reach and needs time I didn't quite have, but I did get to Colca. Originally I was going to do an organised tour from the fairly-nearby city of Arequipa, but a few enquiries demonstrated it was going to be tough and expensive as a solo traveller to find the right sort of tour for me, so I ended up going independently.

In the village of Cabanaconde, where the canyon is at its deepest, there's a hostel called Pachamama Home which many independent travellers seem to end up at. They give helpful trekking advice – its website was a good starting point although they encourage you not to trek solo. Nevertheless I booked a couple of nights there in the expectation of either finding trekking companions or the confidence to just go it alone. I figured it'd be easier once I'd spoken to other people and seen the landscape for myself.

I did the journey from Puno on a slightly expensive ($50) tourist bus which had a grand total of seven passengers, and that included a pair of American ladies suffering from altitude sickness who switched to a taxi at the turn-off for the canyon to come to Arequipa, which is lower down. Luckily one of the two other couples on the bus were also going to Cabanaconde, as when we arrived at the bus's terminus in Chivay, some 50km away, the 1pm public bus did not seem to exist. So I shared a cab instead with the Dutch couple who were travelling for a few months after working in New York.

In Cabanaconde it quickly became apparent that trekking the canyon solo, if you're at least moderately sensible and have some trekking experience, is perfectly safe and doable. The tracks are clear and signposted and there are lots of places to stay. The landscape is beautiful in a harsh, unforgiving sort of way and life looks pretty tough out there; especially at this time of year it is dry and dusty and, at between 2,000m and 3,300m above sea level, vegetation remains scarce and heavy on cacti. 

I had one day before heading into the canyon, so like the rest of the hostel, got up early, caught a bus and went to the viewpoint at the Cruz del Condor. This is a crag where a family of Andean condors live and every morning, more or less, some of them come out to glide among the mountains. On the morning I went there were three out; apparently there were 13 the following day (typical) but none the day after that. Condors are incredible birds, enormous and graceful, and they swooped above our heads for quite some time. It was just a shame that the viewpoint has become the stopping point on most tours' itineraries – there were lots and lots of people there. I wanted to confiscate the cameras or phones belonging to the people using flashes.

Back in Cabanaconde it was a beautiful day so I went for a mid-sized day hike up to some pre-Incan ruins and back to stretch my legs before heading into the canyon. Over dinner I had a nice chat with two fellow solo female travellers – one girl my age, who has left her job and bought a tent and is seeing South America through various treks, and a retired American lady who sold everything and is travelling for as long as she can afford on the hunt for something intangible she hasn't yet found. We agreed travelling was good and really anyone can do it. You just need to make the decision and go!

The following morning it was down into the canyon. My destination, Llahuar, was some 1,200m lower than Cabanaconde and the day's walk was mainly downhill. For the first hour it was quite nice downhill but then I had to get out the walking poles as it got steeper and steeper and more technical, with a lot of loose rocks and stones underfoot. Eventually the path zigzagged pretty much straight downhill at gradients of up to -46 per cent and I was extremely glad when I finally reached the river at the bottom of the canyon and had a bit of uphill instead. By the time I reached Llahuar my right knee, the leg I broke badly some 14 years ago, was really pretty sore.

Luckily Llahuar has some hot springs so I went and soaked for an hour and had a good chat with an American couple who'd also come from Cabanaconde that morning – leaving a little later than me. Then I collapsed in the rustic, basic but comfortable bamboo hut that was home for the night until the simple supper. It was a clear night and for the first time I could really see the stars, something we'd missed on the Salkantay trek.

Sangalle

Day two in the canyon was up and then down again to the 'oasis' of Sangalle. The up was made shorter but tougher by a nice old man in one of the little villages who pointed me off the gravel road and on to a short cut – it was shorter, but it was also steeper, and I cursed him for a while before realising how much distance the short cut had slashed! Four hours later, in Sangalle, I stumbled with my knee very sore into the first of the three lodges I came across, negotiated a bed for the night, and had a very similar afternoon to the previous day's – except in Sangalle there are no hot springs, but swimming pools filled with water from the rivers.

A tour group was staying in the same place and they started the next morning much earlier than I'd planned to. But their getting up woke me up and after failing to get back to sleep I just got up and went for the last leg; 4km straight uphill back to Cabanaconde. Ultimately this was the right decision as it meant the path was in shade and the morning light on the canyon walls was stunning. I made good time, catching up the slower end of the tour group and making it back to Pachamama in time for breakfast before the bus onwards to Arequipa.

Tips and tricks

• You can walk the canyon alone but make sure you have some sort of map (hostels like Pachamama provide basic ones), plenty of water and food. The food provided in the lodges is basic, vegetarian and the portions are not massive, so high-calorie stuff is sensible to carry. The terrain is tricky and you're still at fairly high altitude, so take your time, wear decent boots, and walking poles definitely recommended.
• I got a tourist bus with 4M Express from Puno to Chivay for $50 and then a taxi onwards to Cabanaconde for S/. 100 (split between three) – we negotiated down from S/. 120. The Puno-Chivay buses run once a day in each direction, leaving Puno early in the morning and Chivay at about 1pm.
• I went on to Arequipa from Cabanaconde on one of the regular public buses for just S/. 17. Timetables change, check Pachamama's website for details. It took a while – two hours to Chivay, a quick change of vehicle, and then another four hours to Arequipa. There are no facilities. But it's cheap!
• There's a 7am public bus from Cabanaconde to Chivay-Arequipa which will drop you at the Cruz del Condor for S/. 2. It was packed with tourists and locals, but many of the locals got off before the Cruz del Condor. Going back to Cabanaconde there's a bus which arrives between 9am and 9.20am for the same price.

Lake Titicaca

There's an undeniable romanticism about the thought of the world's highest navigable lake, and Lake Titicaca is remarkable. It's huge. From Puno, the main town on the Peruvian shores, it looks big but not that big as two peninsulae hide the sheer size. But once you get past those peninsulae the lake opens up and shows its scale.

At over 3,800m coming from Cusco seemed sensible as I was already acclimatised to the altitude, but I wasn't prepared for the chill. My hostel room on the first night was distinctly cold and I was grateful for the thick blankets layered on the bed. However a welcome contrast to Cusco was the prices of accommodation and food.

There are hordes of tour operators in Puno, mostly offering the same sort of trip out on the lake. Lake Titicaca has several island communities, with three in particular the target of most tours – Uros, Amantani and Taquile. The standard two-day trip takes you to each of those three places and you have a homestay on the night in the local community.

A homestay sounded attractive but I wasn't sure about joining the crowds all doing the same thing, especially after Machu Picchu. Further investigation and close reading of my Lonely Planet suggested that a similar homestay experience with fewer people could be found on the Capachica Peninsula, within sight of both Amantani and Taquile. The problem was getting there, until I emailed a tour operator and was offered a transfer to the peninsula via the Uros islands for a relatively low price, with a homestay booked in the village of Llachon, and I'd have to find my own way back to Puno at the end of it.

I was glad I'd chosen the option. I was picked up in the morning as part of a group overnighting on Amantani and we stopped at Uros first. The Uros islands are remarkable; a group of 80 or 90 'islands' made of reeds. The people collect huge lumps of earth from the reed beds as the foundations, anchor them in the lake, and then literally pile reeds on top of the foundations to a depth of a couple of metres. And then they put houses made of reeds on top, and live there. The reed bed is squishy and soft to walk on and many people go barefoot. Every three months you have to top up your reeds and every 25 years the island is replaced, with the old island towed to the rest of the reed beds and abandoned. Four or five families live on each little island and there's over 2,000 people in the community.

Unfortunately as floating reed islands are so unusual, and Uros is really close to Puno, they're a major tourist draw. And tourist money is paying for improvements in their lifestyle – most families have a solar panel to generate enough electricity for lighting and tiny televisions in each hut – but it means that if you visit you will probably find yourself on a tourist conveyor belt.

We stopped at a little island and our tour guide, Elvis (yes really) talked us through how the islands work, complete with a demonstration in miniature from the island's 'president', the current leader of the five families who lived on the island we stopped on. Then we had a mini-tour of the little house in which the president's daughter, 25-year-old Mariella, lived – a single room with a bed, a table with a TV, and hooks on the walls for her clothes. We saw the resident flamingo and the place where they cooked. Naturally we also were invited to look at the textiles and mini reed boats they were selling, and I did buy a cushion cover as I bought one in Uzbekistan and I thought I'd continue the tradition.

Then Mariella and her mum sang us a song in Aymara, the local language; a song in Spanish; and incongruously and oddly 'My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean' in English. After that we were invited to take a ride in a boat made of reeds across the channel (an extra S/. 10, which everyone ended up doing), to visit the 'main' island which has a little shop on it. There were three or four groups of tourists here too.

So it was good to be dropped off, some two hours later, on the peninsula. “This is Calixto, he's your papa,” said Elvis, and the boat headed off.

Me and Calixto - he dressed me up in local costume

My host, Calixto, is I'd estimate in his early fifties but it's hard to tell, compared to us soft-living Westerners. He wore the local outfit of dark trousers, cream shirt and a dark waistcoat with embroidery. A trio of ladies were also on the dock, waiting for a group arriving on the next boat, all in their colourful skirts and tops and hats with four big pom-poms on them and carrying spindles. It would be easy to think that the inhabitants of Llachon wear the local dress for the benefit of tourists, but as I wandered around I saw enough people just going about their daily business in the same sort of outfits that I think it's actually still normal everyday dress.

Calixto took me up to a little complex of rooms complete with a communal kitchen and dining area which I think must form the basis of the community homestay programme, which seems to be run for the community and by the community. My room was a spacious, basic hut with a double bed and a bathroom that even had a shower – no decoration or fanciness, but comfortable enough and with a spectacular view of the lake. After the group from the next boat had arrived and been sorted into their rooms I was served lunch, a basic but tasty meal of barley soup followed by a plate of grilled cheese, a bit like halloumi, some veg, and a selection of different potatoes. All this was washed down by a sort of tea made by steeping the local thyme (a little minty) in hot water – delicious. Calixto ate with me and we managed a bit of conversation despite my lack of Spanish and his lack of English. He has three sons, one living in Llachon, and his wife is currently in hospital having had an operation. Two different ladies helped him out by giving me lunch and dinner on the second day so I think the community is supporting him while Senora Calixto is absent.

Llachon church

Llachon has two high points, both with pre-Inca archaeological sites on them. I walked up to the nearer one on the first afternoon and the higher, slightly further one on the next morning. On the second afternoon I just walked along the road until it ran out. And I sat and read overlooking the lake. There is very little vehicle traffic on the peninsula so it's very quiet, the silence broken only by the wind and the livestock all the people keep. Everyone seems to have a little flock of sheep, a couple of cows, a donkey, and perhaps a pig or some chickens. Most of the pigs seemed to have piglets and there were a lot of lambs around. As I walked I saw people tilling their fields by hand, trying to get something out of what looks like very dry soil. There were a lot of boats fishing too and several fish farms just off the shore. It's a very basic, simple, tough life by the looks of things. Llachon has two schools next to each other (I'm guessing primary and at least early secondary), and the people I saw were predominantly older, or school-age. Apart from the girl who sorted my dinner on the second night, and Calixto's son, I saw very few young adults.

It was easy getting back to Puno via minibus and when I arrived it was the start of a big parade which was celebrating the local university. This thing went on for hours; each faculty had an accompanying band and were wearing different varieties of local dress. In the evening they were out again in sequinned costumes, a little the worse for wear, but still smiling despite the afternoon rain which had fallen.

The homestay was definitely the right thing to do, especially after speaking to others who'd gone to one of the islands for the night and said it was pretty busy. Highly recommended ...

Tips and tricks

• I arranged my homestay via All Ways Travel in Puno but the community association does have an email address - llachonkantuta@hotmail.com
• Getting to and from Puno to the Capachica peninsula is easy. Check with a hostel or hotel where they leave from - I think it's Avenida Floral near Avenida El Sol, as that's where mine stopped on the way back, but it could be elsewhere. Jump in a minibus with the driver yelling "Capachica" or even better, "Llachon". You might need to change at Capachica in the market for Llachon. The total journey time is around two and a half hours. I paid S/. 2 from Llachon to Capachica and S/. 5 from Capachica to Puno. In Llachon, the buses stop just near the main plaza.

Cusco and the Sacred Valley

I spent a total of seven nights in Cusco, the Inca's ancient capital, before and after the Salkantay trek. It's a touristy city – after Paraty, the most touristy place I've been while travelling – but I rather liked it. The historic centre is pretty and there is lots to see. On the downside, every restaurant hands you a menu in English, every shop is selling the same Peruvian handicrafts and alpaca scarves, and people stand on the street proffering laminated cards and calling out “massage, lady, massage?”

Cusco's Plaza das Armas

I'd planned the lengthy stay to acclimatise properly to the altitude before my trek, having previously suffered a random asthma attack while climbing Mount Taranaki in New Zealand at less than 2,500m above sea level. Cusco is at 3,326m and the Salkantay took us up to 4,600m, so it was a sensible precaution. In the event I barely had any problems – a bit of a headache on arrival which faded by the time I woke from my first night's sleep and rarely came back with any force. In retrospect the random asthma attack was undoubtedly the effect of sleeping at sea level before the climb.

In any case having several days in Cusco meant I was able to get around and see all its sights. I began with the cathedral, which is actually three churches in one and is pretty impressive. The Cuscan style of religious decoration is heavy on the bling, with plenty of gilding, mirrors and images of Jesus, Mary and the saints dressed in costumes decorated in plenty of gold, silver and sequins. The cathedral's excellent audioguide told me that the mirrors, like other imagery used in the churches in Peru, is a hangover from Incan culture. As a culture which venerated the sun, the reflection from mirrors as well as silver and gold reminded them of it and the use of mirrors was a way of linking the old religion with the new.

In the course of the next couple of days I visited most of Cusco's churches until I got a bit church-ed out. One of them stands out though; the convent of Santo Domingo stands on the sight of the Incan temple of the Sun, Qorikancha. The Spanish managed to build around the Incan temple, which was made of massive blocks of dark granite, and even used some of the old temple rooms as rooms in the monastery. Nowadays the Incan bits are protected from the elements and you can see how the old world became the new in one building.

Having plenty of time also meant I was able to get out of Cusco and see some of the Incan sites near the city, as a kind of Machu Picchu warm-up. The Spanish did an excellent job of destroying most of the Incan stuff they found, which is why Machu Picchu stands out, but there's still things worth seeing.

Pisac ruins

On the Sunday I got in a colectivo – a sort of minibus-taxi – and went to Pisac, where there is a market and also an enormous Incan site with the remains of temples, houses and terraces galore, built along the ridge of a mountain above the modern village. Walking up from Pisac meant that only a small part of the site was busy with tourists and I thoroughly enjoyed exploring, although the steps were pretty tough going both up and down.

Cusco's Mercado San Pedro

The market was mostly handicrafts, with a small local produce market. The sellers were all female, all dressed in local dress of big knee-length skirt, blouse and cardigan and a bowler hat, and the produce varied from local fruit to potatoes and corn. It was interesting but I expected bigger and indeed the Mercado de San Pedro in Cusco, although I went the following Sunday when a lot of the stalls were closed, was a better market and less geared for tourists.

Closer to Cusco than Pisac are another set of Incan ruins. A bus dropped me off at the furthest from the city, Tambomachay, and I walked back down to Cusco along the road via the other three.

Tambomachay is a small site notable for a working set of ceremonial water fountains, although given it was throwing it down with rain when I went the effect was probably minimised. Across the road, Pukapukara is known as the Red Fort for its reddish stone, but again in the rain it wasn't that impressive sadly! I considered giving up on the walk and jumping in the first bus to come along as it was raining pretty heavily, but stuck to my guns and kept on going. I must have looked like a drowned rat and heaven only knows what all the cars and buses passing me must have thought as I trudged down the road. All was fine, despite the rain, until I sidestepped to get closer to the edge and away from a potential splashing by a bus and fell, splat, in the gutter. Luckily, as the Salkantay began the next day, nothing was injured but my pride.

However the third site, Q'enqo, made up for the discomfort with its rather cool altar inside a cave, and by the time I reached the fourth and largest site, Sacsaywaman (or Saqsayhuaman; it sounds like 'sexy woman'!) it had actually stopped raining and the sun was coming out. This made for a beautiful steaming effect as the sun's instant heat began drying the grass and stones and it was rather pleasant for a bit. I even dried off as I explored the site, although it did rain again about half an hour later.

Sacsaywaman

Sacsaywaman was the site of a big battle in 1536 and much of it was destroyed by the Spanish, but what remains is really impressive – particularly the zigzag fortifications which were apparently designed to be the teeth of a puma, with Cusco the body and Sacsaywaman the head. Close by there's a statue of Christ overlooking the city, which is large by statue standards but tiny compared to Cristo in Rio. It's a good place to look down on the city and its many churches and marvel at the mixture of cultures which produced this bustling city so high up.

Salkantay Trek and Machu Picchu

There must be thousands of travellers who have Machu Picchu on their list of Things To See, and it has certainly been on mine for a while. Indeed Machu Picchu was the first thing I planned properly when I knew I was going to be able to go travelling in South America, so expectations were high for the trip.

I spent a lot of time researching the different options available. The Inca Trail is the best-known trek to the site and has the advantage of allowing you to walk right up there. But it's also extremely busy, and when I go walking I like to be able to get away from crowds. After looking at all the common treks, I eventually chose a five-day, four-night walk known as the Salkantay Trek run by local operator Alpaca Expeditions. This walk takes you up over a high, 4,600m pass close to the Salkantay mountain before going down into cloud forest. You sleep the last night in Aguas Calientes, the town close to Machu Picchu, and spend the last day there. It sounded great and after almost five days of acclimatisation in Cusco I was ready to go.

Day one

Day one started early. I was picked up from my hotel at 4.30am and our team of seven other trekkers, our guide Wilson and our wonderful porters and chefs, headed out on a bumpy road towards the mountains.

I hadn't been sure who else would be on the trek. By the end we all agreed that we had been extremely lucky with our fellow trekkers, who were a cosmopolitan group of Americans, Australians living in America, and another Brit who currently lives in Colombia. We were all pretty like-minded, keen to get out there away from the crowds and embrace whatever the trek threw at us.

Meanwhile Wilson was an extremely experienced guide, originally from Cusco although he's also spent a fair amount of time guiding in the Amazon. He spoke good English as well as his native Quechua and Spanish and was brilliant at spotting stuff for us to look at - birds, plants, historic sites - and generally keeping morale up when the going got tough.

First day's lunch

The first day's walk, after a breakfast of bread, fruit, and incredibly scrambled eggs, took us up from a starting altitude of 3,900m to 4,620m as we crossed the Salkantay pass, and then down to 3,800m where we camped. As we started walking there were some clouds but it looked like clearing a bit - but as we climbed up it got cloudier and cloudier and it was raining when we got to our lunch spot. Here the porters had already set up a tent to cook in and a tent to eat in, and we were treated to soup followed by some delicious trout, rice, vegetables and so on. At 4,400m. That quality of food was to continue over the next four days; we had beef stir fry, chicken, tortillas, chips, and twice freshly-popped popcorn as a completely unnecessary pre-dinner snack!

The rain eased off as we finished lunch and prepared for the last climb up to the pass, but the weather didn't clear and the first four of us to reach the top shivered in sleeting snow for a little while until the others arrived. We couldn't see a thing, but we'd made it! At this point Wilson challenged us, taking us off the path and into the rock field closer to the mountain. It was difficult walking over uneven rocks, my hands were cold despite my new baby alpaca gloves, and we couldn't see the glacier properly. We could only hear it, as the rain caused avalanches thundering down in the distance.

Wilson stopped us, and asked us to find smaller rocks and make a heart shape on a flat rock. He then got us all to find another small rock, and handed out three coca leaves each, pouring a few drops of a sort of floral alcohol on our leaves. Then, and this sounds really corny but actually was very moving, he asked Pachamama - Mother Earth - for blessing and guidance. And the clouds started to clear. Within about half an hour we could see something and the sun had come out. We spent a good two hours from arrival on the pass to leaving it, watching the clouds clear over the mountain. It was quite magical.

As we began the descent the clouds rolled in again, and Wilson hurried us up as it got foggier and foggier. We reached the camp just as it was getting dark and visibility dropped. The team had already set up our tents, each under a shelter for added warmth, and dinner was almost ready. We fell exhausted into bed before 8pm!

Day two

We woke to clear skies and the view we'd missed the night before, of mountains all around the campsite, and had breakfast outdoors. There were even pancakes. Before we set off walking Wilson introduced us properly to the porters - chef Cassilios, sous-chef Pancho, and porters Gregorio and Washington (who is Cassilios' son!) We also met the two local guys who were steering our team of horses - or mules - up the mountain with our gear, David and Arnold. It was nice to find out more about the team, who throughout were unfailingly cheerful and energetic and made us feel quite inadequates as they hurried past us with all our things.

Going down ...

And then began what turned into the toughest day of walking. It was beautiful countryside as we descended from mountain to cloud forest, with flowers and birds and butterflies all around and lots to look at. Wilson pointed out various things to look for and it was a good walk down to lunch, but our feet and legs were already aching by the time we'd demolished a feast of lomo saltado (the local beef stir fry) and corn fritters, plus lots of rice and veggies.

Hummingbird

After lunch we descended almost to the glacial river running through the valley we were to pass along, and then climbed up again to the trail. It went up and down, but mostly down, for the rest of the afternoon, and due to erosion was much longer than advertised. We stopped a couple of times in campsites which were buzzing with insects, although they also grew fruit and some of the group bought fresh passionfruit to eat. We were very grateful to finally reach the trail end and a rough road, where Wilson had organised a truck to pick us up for the final few kilometres to the campsite.

At our request he'd also organised a side-trip, 45 minutes in a minibus with the cheesiest soundtrack ever to take us to some nearby hot springs. The springs were a complex of clear pools, outside surrounded by mountains, where we lay and eased our legs for a while before heading back for dinner tired but less achy. That night we slept to the sound of the river rushing by next to us, and woke to more blue skies.

Day three

Freshly-roasted beans

Day three was a shorter day, but involved another tough climb from 2,100m to 2,700m along the 'other' Inca trail, which once ran from the Amazon to Machu Picchu. These days you can't walk much of it, although they're trying to clear more. The path runs uphill past banana groves and coffee farms and we stopped at one of the family-run farms to learn about how you make coffee. In fact we had a go ourselves, first harvesting some beans, then using the machine to take the skins off, then roasting some beans which had already been dried, and finally grinding them. Locally they use the grounds to make a sort of coffee essence which is then mixed with water to produce a smooth, dark brew. We all bought bags of beans or coffee to take home, and such was the organisation that a porter was on hand to rush them back to the road so they could be transported in a van instead of anyone having to carry them.

The path then wound its way uphill, and although the gradient was occasionally tough it was lovely walking with shady patches, great views and lots to look at. After a last steep climb we reached the top of the pass, where the vegetation changed abruptly to a mossy forest and the path descended again to the Incan site of Llactapata. Here a small temple faces the east and you can see the 'back' or western side of Machu Picchu clearly. We spent a while looking at it through binoculars and taking pictures before the last 10 minute descent to our campsite, almost directly below Llactapata with similar views and a really amazingly cute puppy.

The afternoon was ours so we lazed around, looking at the view through the tent mesh and listening to the mules chomping at the grass. Before dinner, and over the obligatory pre-dinner snack we totally didn't need, Wilson talked to us about Inca history so we'd be ready for Machu Picchu. We went to sleep hoping for a bright sunrise.

Day four

Sadly no sunrise was forthcoming, and it rained heavily overnight, but we got some atmospheric cloud effects in the morning instead and the team had baked a cake - yes, really - for breakfast as it was the last morning camping. As you do.

Morning view

It rained most of the day, but it wasn't too bad as we dropped down to the valley floor for about two hours and then walked mostly on the flat for the rest of the day. A lot of it was along the railroad which runs from a hydroelectric station to Aguas Calientes - you can't drive to Aguas Calientes, so anyone who's failed to get on a train to Cusco or Ollantaytambo from there has to walk back to Hydroelectric. All of a sudden it seemed as though there were hordes of people, as we'd barely seen anyone on the trail save for a young Czech couple walking independently. The railroad was nice to walk by, with a river on one side, but with three days' walking in our legs already it seemed an interminable way to Aguas Calientes. It was great to finally reach the town and find the fastest walkers already having a beer by the road!

Our hotel had hot hot showers and soft soft beds and I spent the afternoon mainly lounging, having found a channel showing films in English on the television and not really being bothered to do anything else. We had dinner cooked by Cassilios and the team but in a restaurant and they outdid themselves with a veritable feast. We thanked them and said goodbye, as they were all heading back to Cusco that evening.

Day five

Machu Picchu day! Another hideously early start as we joined Wilson in the bus queue shortly after 4.30am. Although you can't drive to Aguas Calientes, there are buses running you up to Machu Picchu - if you don't want to face the 1.5km hike straight up the mountainside to it! The buses start running at 5.30am but you need to be in the queue earlier to have any chance of making it up there by dawn, when the light is simply incredible.

We were inside shortly after 6am, so the early start was worth it. Already there were lots of people but we did manage to get some group and individual shots without too many others in the background. Weirdly I got asked by one guy for a selfie with him because he wanted to take a selfie with someone from the UK.

Wilson then gave us a comprehensive three-hour tour of the site, including a continuation of the history lesson from the other night and tidbits about what we were seeing. He really knew his stuff and we all learned a lot about the Incan culture, the reason why they made more effort with the architecture and finish of some buildings compared to others, how the buildings were constructed, what historians believe the site was used for, and so on. The Incans did an incredible job building on Machu Picchu and the skill of their masons is extraordinary.

Mostly we managed to find spots slightly away from the worst of the crowds but there was one point, going up the small hill with the Incan 'sundial' on top where it was basically a slow queue - which some people seemed to think they could jump. 

Incan bridge

By just before 10am Wilson had exhausted most of his stories and half our group had tickets to climb the vertiginous Huayna Picchu (the mountain in the background of the photo above). I had decided not to as I'm not good with cliff edges; a decision which the others said was sensible! The remaining four of us split up and I spent some time contemplating the view and also visiting the Incan bridge, which is along a lovely little trail that is actually the end of the Incan trail from the Amazon which we'd walked a bit of on day three. Currently it vanishes on the cliff face after the bridge, but Wilson says that they are working to try and join it up.

By noon we'd been there six hours and it was time to head back into town for lunch, and later the train to Ollantaytambo and then a bus back to Cusco. I slept quite a lot of the way but was awake enough later to catch up with most of our group for celebratory pisco cocktails. It was a fabulous, fabulous trip.

Tips for Salkantay and Machu Picchu

•  I booked my trek way way in advance but some of the others booked much closer to the time. October is off-season and the Salkantay is a trek which is more likely to have space than others. You can't get away with this for the Inca Trail - that must be booked well in advance!
• I did extensive online research over my tour operator and was really happy with the ultimate choice, Alpaca Expeditions. They weren't cheap but they were very professional and they say they look after their staff. Wilson showed us a picture of a tour he guided of Machu Picchu for the porters' families (in Quechua), and he said the families all get Christmas gifts. Senior porters are in charge of coordinating groups of porters from their areas to ensure a fair allocation of work and adequate time to go home and visit families.
• You can walk the Salkantay independently but I'm not sure I'd recommend it - there were points where the track was unclear or the direction unclear, especially when the weather got bad. If you go independently find a good map! 
• For Machu Picchu: a) book your bus tickets in advance (as well as your general entry tickets); b) join the bus queue early; c) take gear for all weather conditions and wear decent shoes; d) have your passport handy because everything's tied to your passport number.

Brazil round-up

I am shamelessly stealing the concept of a country round-up from my friends and fellow travellers Julie and Andrew and their Two Year Trip blog. I've actually been in Peru a week now so a Brazil wrap-up is overdue ...

Why go to Brazil?

I'm not sure I can really say I properly visited Brazil. I saw a very small part of a very big country and to do it justice would need months. Nevertheless, I recommend Brazil for:

• Beaches. The Brazilians do love their beaches, especially in Rio.
• Samba. I didn't go to a proper samba night but the sound of the music is everywhere and I experienced some of the dancing at the Olympic closing ceremony. It's kind of infectious.
• Amazing scenery. From Rio's mountains to the forest of Ilha Grande via Paraty's turquoise sea and Iguacu's astonishing waterfalls, Brazil really is a strikingly beautiful place.

Top three Brazilian experiences I had:

•  A very Olympic/Paralympic-related one: hearing the partisan support of the crowds for their idols, particularly canoe sprinter Isaquias Queiroz dos Santos during the Olympics and Daniel Diaz at the Paralympics. And seeing the ensuing press scrums in the mixed zones after they won medals. Bonkers.
• Seeing Iguacu Falls.
•  Walking to the top of Corcovado to see Christ the Redeemer. The views weren't great that day but it was a lot of fun.

You know you're in Brazil when ...

• There's someone drinking beer at 10am on a weekday. 
• You can't walk 100m without seeing either a) a self-serve restaurant or b) a pharmacy.
• Every meal involves meat, rice and beans. 

What to pack when going to Brazil:

Your tiniest bikini or swimsuit. Everyone else is wearing one, after all. (Don't worry about packing flipflops, Havaianas are ridiculously cheap in Brazil!)

Annoyances and things to look out for:

I can honestly say that I felt unsafe only a couple of times in the whole time I was in Brazil, and by 'unsafe' I mean I felt a little unhappy that I was in a particular spot by myself. I was careful not to carry too much money or my credit cards around, but I did always have my phone and usually my camera - a good Canon DSLR - on me. I tended to keep my camera in my bag until I needed it, and a couple of times I literally got it out, took a picture and put it away again, but I never felt like my camera was making me stand out. I stand out anyway in South America just by dint of being fair-skinned and fairly fair-haired. Not having my camera is not going to make me look any less a foreigner!

That said I did hear about people being robbed in Rio. A colleague had his wallet taken, we think from the 'hippie market' outside General Osorio metro station in Ipanema on a Sunday. It's worth leaving your passport and most of your cards back at your hotel otherwise you do risk them going with everything else. Basically my tip would be to look like you know what you're doing, be sensible, and you'll be fine.

Money: use ATMs inside banks. You may find paying for something with a R$100 note is tricky - I found supermarkets and restaurants were happy to take them but few other places were.

Transport: in Rio, the metro is good and relatively cheap, and easy to navigate, although its destinations are moderately limited. The BRT (bus rapid transit) system is also good but the buses tend to be rammed. The 'Supervia' trains which leave from Central station are also pretty good but do not go at the advertised time. I had no problems on ordinary buses in Rio either, but I did only use them during daylight hours. In Sao Paulo, the metro is excellent and cheap, although annoyingly you have to buy single tickets one at a time when you need them. In both cities Uber was a cheaper alternative to taxis, and saved having to explain destinations! 

What I'll miss most about Brazil:

Probably the people. The Brazilians I worked with were awesome and welcoming and wanted everyone to have a good time. And I did. Obrigada a todos!

Iguacu and Iguazu Falls

I love a waterfall. I always try and hunt them out when I'm travelling or walking and have especially fond memories of an awesome day waterfall-hunting in the Catlins, New Zealand. There's something about the simple primal force of a lot of water falling off the edge of a cliff which fascinates me.

So when I was researching this trip Iguacu Falls very quickly made it on to my list.

Iguacu is widely regarded as being one of the world's greatest waterfalls and rightly so. It's not one fall at all, but 275, strung out along kilometres of cliff edge and spanning the Brazil-Argentina border. Technically I think Argentina has the greatest volume of falls of the two countries and certainly it takes longer to see the falls from that side. Both sides have walks and boat tours; Brazil takes you from the visitors' centre at the entrance to the falls in double-decker buses and Argentina takes you in a little narrow-gauge train.

Brazil side - Iguacu

The Brazilian side of the falls is a bit more modern and professional than the Argentinian side, and it is from Brazil you get to see the full scope of the place. There's one key trail, the Trilha dos Cataratas, which runs about 1.5km along the cliff and gives you a great view of most of the Argentinian falls and culiminates in a viewpoint right below the main fall, Devil's Throat, where gallons and gallons of water pour into the abyss.

A bad selfie. It had to be done.

The best time to go from an aesthetic point of view is in the morning when the mixture of sunshine and spray create stunning rainbows. Sadly this is also the worst time to go from an experience point of view, as the rest of the world also turns up then on buses and the place is packed. As there's basically one trail there's not many places for people to go to and the major viewing spots on the morning I visited were just packed with tourists, mostly taking selfies, as we live in a very narcissistic world these days. Mind you I took one too, just because.

Most of the views on the Brazil side are views from a distance but the walkway also takes you right up to the Devil's Throat (take a raincoat, or buy a plastic poncho for R$6). It's pretty cool to stand there underneath the waterfall.

At the end of the trail there's a panoramic elevator for people who can't walk up the stairs/are too lazy to walk up the stairs, and more views from above. And the obligatory café/restaurant complex, where I had a surprisingly good coffee.

Argentinian side - Iguazu

I did a whole separate blog post about getting from Foz do Iguacu to Puerto Iguazu by public bus, because online information is limited, and because if you're reading this to look at pretty pictures of waterfalls you don't need to know that I missed my stop coming home and had to walk an extra half an hour.

The Argentine set-up is similar to the Brazilian one but the park covers a lot more ground and there are more trails to walk. I spent most of the day in Argentina and only a couple of hours on the Brazil side of the falls. It feels less polished somehow and because there's more to see the crowds are thinner. I'd say that the Argentinian experience is more up close and personal while Brazil is the overview.

Annoyingly the longest trail, which is where they say you can see some wildlife, was closed so I couldn't do that but I did see a few birds and animals anyway - a wild toucan from a distance, some monkeys, and lots of other birds.

Like the Brazil side there are lots of coatis around. These racoon-like animals are quite cute to look at and voracious scavengers. They love human food and there are signs everywhere warning you not to feed them - although people were. When I stopped for a bite to eat there was an Argentinian couple nearby with a plate of empanadas and a bottle of Coke on their table. A coati prowling the food area spied the empanadas, jumped on to the table, grabbed an empanada and spilled the Coke much to the anger of the couple. The man was so angry or possibly distressed he flung a chair at the poor animal (and got Coke all over his shorts. I couldn't help smiling). Another coati promptly arrived to lap up Coke from the ground. It's definitely not good for them but they do seem to love junk food.

I also did the boat ride on the Argentinian side, a short and very very wet baptism. Basically they drive you into two pretty sizeable waterfalls including the one on the left of this paragraph. And then they do it again. It's cold and the power of the water, even at the edge, was crazy. Everyone in my boat squealed a lot including me. It was crazy and fun and worth the money I spent on it (450 pesos, or about £23).

The day finished up at the Devil's Throat again, but this time from above. Literally all you can see is the edge of the cliff, which is a U-shape, and a few metres of water before a cloud of spray. I knew from the Brazil side how high the fall is but hadn't appreciated how high the spray reaches. Everyone on that lookout point was soaked (hurrah for my rainjacket).

Iguacu extras

There's not much to Foz do Iguacu apart from the falls and, if you're into that sort of thing and have space in your bag, cheap shopping at the duty free shop between the Argentine and Brazil borders or in Ciudad del Este, Paraguay, which is literally just the other side of the river.

Two extra things I did do:

The Parque des Aves is right next to the Brazilian falls visitors' centre and was superb. This bird sanctuary looks after and breeds a whole range of birds, mainly native to South America. The best bit about it was their huge aviaries which you can walk inside and really see the birds close up, without cage wires in the way. I especially loved seeing a toucan right in front of me and the macaw aviary, filled with beautiful parrots.

Itaipu Dam was voted one of the seven modern wonders of the world and they have a busy tourism (or, as the Lonely Planet quite accurately put it, propaganda) machine to go with the generation of 75 per cent of Paraguay's electricity and about 15 per cent of Brazil's. Due to a string of minor events I failed to get on one of the 'special' tours which take you inside the dam, but managed to do a 'panoramic' tour which drives you round the outside in a double-decker bus. They didn't mention the impact building this massive dam must have had on the Parana river and the people who lived in the area. The reservoir covers an area that's bigger than New York City or Rio de Janeiro - it's massive. A little research reveals that the creation of the dam destroyed the Guaira Falls, which sound like they were even more impressive than Iguacu. So generating clean energy had major environmental repercussions, and that's not touched on at all on the tour. Still, it was interesting to see the dam and it filled a morning I had to fill.

Food and drink in Brazil

There's a fair bit I'll miss about Brazil, but I'm not sure the food is really one of them. Don't get me wrong, I've eaten well, but I've got a little bored of the monotony of the cuisine - you have to go out looking for alternatives.

Brazil's cuisine is best known for and mainly characterised by meat. Lots and lots and lots of meat. I'm not sure I've managed more than one or two days without meat in at least one meal in some form or another. To be fair, when it comes to steak the Brazilians have it nailed - their beef is superb. The best steak I probably had was in a restaurant in Rio called the Braseiro da Gavea, along with a bunch of ONS-ers, but I had a pretty good and very rare one for less than £10 in Lapa one night too.

To accompany the piles of meat Brazilians like to add piles of carbohydrates. Now, I'm not a carb-hater, but I do feel that bringing a massive dish of rice plus a massive dish of chips or potato to go with your steak, fish or whatever is overkill. The most popular forms of rice are plain, or broccoli rice, which is rice mixed with very finely-chopped broccoli - it's rather good actually.

Typical mixture of salad, rice, beans and farofa (the meat came later)

To go with your rice and meat you must have two things: beans, and farofa. At the Olympics and Paralympics every meal had the option of rice and beans. The beans are usually black, sometimes red, and at weekends the thing to eat is feijoada or bean stew, which is essentially the same thing with extra meat in it.

Farofa was quickly christened 'sand' by us ONS gringos. It's toasted cassava flour which sometimes has other stuff mixed in, such as eggs, bacon, or garlic. I've actually come to quite like it; farofa adds texture to your rice!

Tilapia seems to be the most common fish and we had it loads during the Olympics. 

Brazilians have big lunches - when we were staying in Centro the restaurants opened at lunch and then closed at dinnertime, although in less business-minded areas there are plenty of places for dinner too. Buffet restaurants are the thing, either for a set price or with prices per kg or per 100g.

When I'm travelling I don't like big lunches, and at the Olympics I tended to have a massive lunch and then not need much dinner. So I've also investigated Brazilian snack and street food a fair deal.

Their biggest thing is pasties of various descriptions, usually containing meat (of course) or sometimes just cheese. They're either baked or fried. I think the most unfortunate one I got was a bit like a doughnut, except filled with the rubbery white cheese they eat a lot. The mortadella pastel I had in Sao Paulo was excellent. You can find variations on on the pasty everywhere for very little money - usually somewhere around R$5, or just over £1. Some places also do 'sandwiches' for a similar price which are generally toasted and minuscule. A 'misto quente' is basically a ham and cheese toastie.

My first tapioca from a place in Rio

In Rio I also tried both kebabs from street stalls, which were great, and had tapioca pancakes once or twice too. 'Tapiocas' are incredible things. The stallholder has a hot plate and a ring mould and spoons raw tapioca flour into the mould. They flatten the flour down and let it toast and somehow it all sticks together. Then they put a toppping on (ham and cheese and tomato was my favourite), flip it, let the topping cook, fold it and serve it. They're really good.

Although Brazilians have pretty sweet tooths (teeth?) they're not massive on pudding. But I did have a lot of cake with my breakfasts. Cakes are often made in ring moulds, usually involve coconut, and are called 'bolos' when they're that shape. Churros on street corners are also common and you can get sweet tapiocas too.

The breakfasts everywhere have been the same rule of thumb: fruit, usually melon and pineapple and sometimes mango; bread; scrambled eggs if you want them; and cake. Sometimes yoghurt. Also pao de queijo, which are little balls of a sort of cheesy bread and are very good.

Brazil is a pretty multicultural country and there are places serving foreign cuisine, but mainly in the big cities or touristy areas. Italian is everywhere but quality varies - I had a couple of very middling pizzas and a couple of really good ones, for instance. The other night in Foz do Iguacu I had a good Lebanese meal - apparently Foz is one of the biggest Lebanese settlements anywhere. Sao Paulo is a massive Japanese city and there are a number of Japanese restaurants as a result. That said, the Brazilian combination of meat/fish plus rice plus other carb of choice is common in many restaurants, even those which profess to be serving other food!

Decent coffee has been surprisingly difficult to find. In hotels and at the Olympics it was generally filter and very strong and the Brazilians normally drink it in tiny cups the size of shot glasses with masses of sugar. I don't drink milky coffee but reports from friends suggest that cappucinos and lattes came with sweetened milk too. I've had a few good coffees but it's been hard to find, which is weird when you consider Brazil is the world's largest producer of arabica!

All the snack bar, or 'lanchonete', places serve juice, freshly-squeezed, which is lovely to go with your pasty. Brazilians also like iced tea, and here it's a version called mate. If you buy it readymade in a bottle it's exactly like the iced tea you get in the UK but if you get it in a cup as I did once from a chain which specialises in mate it's more bitter in taste.

As a side note to this, on the Argentinian side of Iguazu Falls loads of people were lugging around huge thermos flasks and little cups, which I think is to provide them with mate throughout the day. A bit like the good old British flask of tea I guess, but we don't tend to carry ours around while we go on a walk to a waterfall.

The two principal alcoholic beverages of choice in Brazil are beer and cachaca. Beer is drunk everywhere, at any time, mostly very very cold lager-style beer. You can get cans at street food stalls and snack bars and petrol stations (yup). It's mostly served either draught, in small glasses which are called 'chopps', or in 600ml bottles to share between your party with tiny glasses to drink it out of. The big bottles come in their own special cooling covers to keep them icy. Beer also comes in 'long necks', which are usually 355ml bottles. The most common brands are Skol (the Olympic/Paralympic beer, tasteless and cheap), Brahma (drinkable) and Antarctica (similar to Brahma). Slightly up-market are Bohemia and Original and Serramalte is another step up in price usually, if a bar serves it. I found a couple of microbrewery places which had a wider range of beers such as wheat beer or stout but generally lager's what you get, and very nice it is on a hot day.

Cachaca is a rum-like spirit distilled from sugarcane which is the base ingredient for the ubiquitous, lethal capirinha - usually made with a base of lime juice and sugar. But you can get it with pretty much any juice. Capiroska is made with vodka.

Cheers!