The Path to Machu Picchu and Surviving the Inca Trail

A Few Tips to Help in that Fantastic and Life Threatening Experience

Everything started when me and a couple friends decided that Machu Picchu would be a cheap nice trip we could all take together. We were college students back then, and we didn't have much money. After a few weeks of discussion, we chose a travel bureau that would take care of things like transportation and accommodation. We paid for the cheaper route, meaning everything would be by bus or train (I live in Brazil, and although it is possible to go to Peru by ground means, it still is very far), except for the Inca Trail, which is don by foot.

The day we got into the tourist bus to Machu Picchu, I had my first chock. We were the older ones in the bus. I was 22 back then, and everybody else was barely 18, and that was not the only problem; they were those kids that we can tell that are professional pot smokers just by looking at them. They all wore loose, old and hand made clothes and had that slow talk typical in marijuana addicts. I felt incredibly misplaced, but I didn't let it crush my spirit.

Twelve hours later though, my spirit was a little crushed. The bus was in the Pantanal, dozens of hours away from Machu Picchu, and it was noisy, people talked loud and sometimes yelled hysterically. The landscape was beautiful, but after a few hours of the same one, I got bored. My friends already made some friends by then, but me, I'm kind of a difficult person and I don't make friends easily.

Things got really interesting when we reached Corumbá, the border city between Brazil and Bolivia. There we had a fun, although sad moment. The border agents are used to tourists crossing Boliva border to get to Peru in their way to Machu Picchu, and they take great advantage of it; we had to pay 5 American dollars as a bribe to the Bolivian agents, so we could cross the border. I never paid bribe for anyone in my entire life; I felt so important in that moment. Of course the feeling flew away when I saw the city that expected us on the other side of the border.