IT’S ABOUT AN HOUR since lunch on the first day and my first-ever stab at trekking hasn’t got off to the most auspicious start. I’m about 3200m above sea level in the Peruvian Andes and my ill-prepared body is being exposed to altitude for the first time. I enjoy the odd trail run and thought I was in good- enough shape to tackle this three-day trek through the heart of the Inca empire. But the steep gradient is relentless and in amongst the eery stillness that surrounds our group I can actually hear the booming beat of my heart. I’m sucking in almighty breaths and have never felt more middle-aged. To compound this feeling of inadequacy I’m suddenly overtaken by our 20 porters who are jogging (yes, jogging) past us. Having packed up the whole lunch set-up back at base, they’re now racing ahead to erect our tents and toilets and prepare dinner. Some of these guys are in their 60s; all of them are carrying colossal 20kg packs that make my paltry 5kg day-pack look kindy-like by comparison.

As an introduction to trekking, starting in the Peruvian Andes might be akin to having your first crack at surfing at Pipeline. Fortunately, I’m here with the experienced guides from Intrepid, who specialise in pushing the boundaries of the more adventurous traveller. In our party of 10 is AFL’s premier ruckman Brodie Grundy, who’s here with his partner Rachael and backing up from a successful trek to Everest base camp last year.

JUNGLE FEVER

Our Peruvian adventure had started days earlier, far from the dizzying heights of the Andes, with a river-boat journey deep into the steamy heart of the Amazonian rainforest. Climatic contrasts could scarcely be sharper in this diverse country. There are 32 recognised climate systems in the world and 28 of these can be found in Peru. At our jungle lodge we’re slightly concerned to discover the dense, moist heat means that rooms can have only three sides. In an environment where tarantulas, anacondas and even jaguars are prevalent, I’m concerned that I might be in for long, tense nights cowering behind the mosquito net with one eye open. But this incredible place has so many other-worldly treats in store for us it isn’t long before we’ve all submitted to the rhythms of the rainforest. Our guide for this section of the trip is Victor, a man of the jungle if ever there was one. Born nearby in Peurto Maldonado, Victor tells me the story behind the first birthday present his “Daddy” ever bought him: he took Victor into a machete store at 12 and let him pick one out. With that treasured gift he spent his days breaking off Brazil nuts at the plantation where his father worked and every cent he earned paid for his own schooling and clothes. As well as an impressive work ethic, his father passed on a profound passion for, and knowledge of, the jungle. Over two memorable days we enjoy a vibrant showreel of natural wonders, including a flock of bright-red Macaw parrots getting their daily minerals at a clay lick at dawn, pick out the shining eyes of Caiman alligators on the banks of the Tambopata river on a night safari and follow an army of cackling capuchin (think “organ-grinder”) monkeys from a viewing tower above the tree canopy. The weirdest and most wonderful new discovery of all is the capybara: imagine a 60kg guinea pig with webbed feet. The mood is tense on our night safari as our boat drifts silently just metres away from a petrified capybara, an alligator braced just a wild lunge away from its would-be prey, both frozen in our torchlight. I’m torn between the survival of my new favourite giant rodent and the prospect of witnessing a Discovery Channel-style bloodfest first-hand, though I needn’t have worried as the capybara and alligator share an extraordinary pact that requires them to stay close. In return for the reptile’s protection, the plucky capybara keeps an eye out for the gator’s only predator: the jaguar. This stretch of river has four species of piranha, and when Collingwood star Grundy and I have a fish-off I’ve finally found a playing field upon which we can compete as equals. Despite constant bites, after 20 piranha- less minutes it is 0-0. Our guide Victor, however, takes just seconds to whip out a white piranha with his simple stick, string and red-meat set-up.

In a location this remote there’s limited access to healthcare, so the locals make do with the natural resources that surround them. We tour the Nape Lodge’s medicinal gardens and wonder at the mosquito repellents, stomach settlers, anaesthetics, decongestants and even cosmetics that are growing in every shade around us. Causing the most curiosity is the winding stem of the ayahuasca plant. This powerful hallucinogen is the subject of much debate in the wider world right now, but it’s been an integral part of the culture here for centuries and Victor is keen to share his personal experience of it. Administered only by the local shaman in sacred ceremonies after much spiritual and physical preparation, the drug brought Victor face-to-face with his beloved deceased father “as clearly as if he were right next to me”. Victor says you can look at those around you and see their health issues as if you were an expert assessing an X-ray. When I ask if such an intense experience is followed by a downer-effect, he assures me that he feels possessed with the power and speed of a wild animal for days afterwards, and indeed that the benefits can last for months. As he finishes his recollections, a bright-blue dragonfly appears, as if on cue, and flies right up to his face. Victor gives it a quick nod of approval and it buzzes off. He tells me later the insect was merely thanking him for passing on his respect for the nature around him, and that this kind of arthropodan endorsement is a regular occurrence.
It’s time to come back down to earth and I’m delighted to find that Peru’s greatest passion extends into the jungle. A group of the local staff challenges us to a soccer match. Grundy, in the midst of the off-season, briefly weighs up playing an unfamiliar code on a goat-track of a pitch and sensibly decides to sit this one out. The rest of us do Australia proud, overcoming tough local conditions – like agoutis crossing the pitch and waist-high, snake-infested bushes right behind our goal – to run out 10-7 victors. With the kitchen staff smarting from the defeat, it’s time to leave
the jungle, fly back west and prepare ourselves for the serious trekking ahead.

MOUNTAIN MAN

As an alternative way to appreciate this famous mountain range before taking in the splendour of Machu Picchu, we take the less-trodden path of the Quarry Trail. The iconic Inca Trail has become extremely overcrowded in recent years and this three-day trek is sold as a way to take in the beautiful Andean scenery without the crowds. The only potential downside is that the last section before the ancient site is taken by train. You don’t actually rock up to the famous Sun Gate on foot.

With time limited we need to acclimatise quickly. We fly into the picturesque ancient capital Cusco, which is deemed too extreme at 3400m. So, to ease us in we drive down to a more manageable 2800m – to the Insta-worthy town of Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley. On route we get to experience some of the amazing work Intrepid does with the local communities.
We visit the home of the Huaynoccopac family, where three generations of females prepare us a traditional Peruvian meal using the Pachamanca technique, which involves burying the food in a bed of hot stones. A collective of 10 village families, who’d previously been living solely on whatever vegetables they could grow in their garden, can now educate their children and add meat to their diets thanks to the income provided to them by being part of the adventure itinerary.

After waking up early for the trek, I’m feeling breathless just from fetching a few supplies from the local store. The sudden altitude has left me with a raging headache and extreme nausea. I’m about to find out that it’s only going to get worse as our group climbs over 1000m within the next 24 hours.

I’m seven hours into the second day of the trek. We’re traversing the rugged upper reaches of Mount Puccaqasa and the once-in-a-lifetime views have long lost their lustre. The summit seems eternally ‘just out of sight’ and my smart watch is constantly alerting me that my heart rate is exceeding 150BPM. I’m in a slow, steady pattern of 10 weary steps upwards, pausing to allow my heart rate to return to 110BPM, then 10 more steps upwards and repeat. With little left in my tank, I scoff when my attentive guide Edwin tells me it will be worth it whenImakeittothetop.I question if I ever will. He reminds me that altitude suffering has little to do with overall fitness and affects everyone differently. Even an elite athlete like Brodie and his partner, with their Everest experience behind them, have had to turn around due to symptoms of altitude sickness. I start feeling that powerful urge to lie down and sleep for a while, though I remember from the movie Everest that this would be a seriously poor move. At this point Edwin gets out the oxygen and decides it’s time for me to put on the mask and breath in a few big ones. After 10 minutes or so the oxygen has just about given me the boost to push on to the summit. When I get there, I’m so overjoyed at the prospect of no more uphill grinding that I feel immediately rejuvenated. And Edwin was 100 per cent right: this was worth it.

I begin to realise our group is made up of either uphill people or downhill people. I’m definitely in the latter category and with endorphins flowing I fly down the mountain to our camp, finally taking in the breathtaking scenery I had neglected on my ascent.
After a glorious night’s sleep under the stars, the last day of trekking is a much gentler descent into the sun-drenched green basin of the Sacred Valley, and we arrive like returning warriors, stray mountain dogs in tow, back in Ollantaytambo where we had begun, but now filthy, beaming and blissfully unaffected by altitude.

SITE TO BEHOLD

As our group joins the bustling early-morning crowds outside one of the ‘New Seven Wonders of the World’, I’m actually relieved to be taking in this experience washed and refreshed rather than battling through the tourist hoards on foot with a festering rucksack.

The excitement of our group is heightened by a touching gesture by Intrepid for all 20
of the hardy porters who accompanied us on the hike. Despite their years of lugging trekkers’ tents, toilets and ‘essentials’ up and down the trails, none of them had actually visited this cultural icon due to the high admission fees. Today, however, they’re going to enter alongside us in their vibrant red uniforms.

Nothing prepares you for the beauty that awaits you when you cut through the crowds and take in the full majesty of Machu Picchu sitting on the mountain ridge. As everyone gets the full scope of the ancient citadel in their viewfinders for the first time a strange silence replaces the tourist chatter. We still don’t know exactly how or why Machu Picchu was built back in the 15th century. It was in use for only around 80 years before being abandoned as the Spanish conquistadors took charge. Due to its remote location, it remained undiscovered by the outside world until 1911, when a Yale historian, accompanied by a Peruvian guide, became the first to bring ‘The Lost City of the Incas’ to international attention. Time at the site is limited to four hours under the supervision of a guide, but this becomes a welcome requirement when you hear the astonishing details of how this wonder was built in an unforgiving location without mortar or wheels.

The perfect final stop on this trip to the heart of the Incan Empire is the ancient capital Cusco. This beautifully weathered city feels European but drips with Incan history. On a trip that has been peppered with so many heart-warming initiatives it is fitting that our final meal was to be at the Café Manos Unidas, a vocational training ground for young adults with special needs. Our delicious repast is prepared and served by students who might otherwise have struggled to get a start in the workplace.

As our excited waitress, Ana Hilda, gives everyone in our group a hug, I appreciate what the likable AFL superstar Grundy had told me at the start of this adventure when I asked how a trip like this might affect his off-season. He said that while you may be forced to eat differently and have your workout routine disrupted, the benefits that travel and experience of another culture bring helps you to grow as a person and give you strength for the next season and many more beyond.