Machu Picchu is a bucket-list adventure, but it pays to take the road less travelled

Morning mist shrouds the Santa Teresa River as I scramble towards a mountain pass that’s tangled in jungle foliage. Beyond the pass are the stony remains of Llactapata, an abandoned Inca shrine whose Quechuan name translates as “high town”. It’s from these elevated ruins that our trekking party procures its first glimpse of the once-forgotten city of Machu Picchu.

When hikers on the Classic Inca Trail set eyes upon the 15th-century citadel for the first time, it’s likely they’ll share the view with hundreds of others. So thick are the torch-bearing crowds during the pre-dawn trek from Wiñay Wayna that the final leg to Machu Picchu’s Sun Gate entrance can resemble an army of marching glowworms. Not here, though.

As I gaze across the Aobamba Valley towards the fabled ruins that American historian Hiram Bingham stumbled upon in 1911, only a handful of others accompany me. With permits issued for 500 trekkers on the Classic Inca Trail each day, including support staff, it’s almost impossible to imagine a similar scenario there. But while the Classic Inca Trail is South America’s most iconic hike to its best-known attraction, there are many lesser-known trails that the Incas used to reach Machu Picchu.

The route I’ve chosen this time is called the Salkantay Trek. Where the Classic Inca Trail approaches from the east, mine arrives at Machu Picchu from the south-west. From the trailhead at Challacancha, I’d hiked through drizzle to reach my first night’s camp beside a glacial lake. I then puffed and panted through thinning oxygen, plunging temperatures and soupy fog the next day until, eventually, I stood atop the Salkantay Pass.

At 4630 metres, the pass is the trail’s highest point and a place where trekkers are promised heavenly vistas of the permanently ice-capped peaks of Salkantay and Humantay. However, it wasn’t until the following morning that the skies cleared and both peaks materialised far above our campsite, making my previous afternoon’s laboured efforts all the more worthwhile.

Pleasingly, the temperatures warmed considerably by lunchtime as we descended past tumbling waterfalls towards the village of Challhuay, located at the junction of the Salkantay and Santa Teresa Rivers. Delicate hummingbirds with metallic sheens buzzed across the path in front of us and an assortment of colourful butterflies flitted among flowering shrubbery as we then trudged back uphill through steamy cloud forests – the real-life habitat of the spectacled bear that inspired the creation of the children’s book character, Paddington.

From our jungle clearing beside the Llactapata ruins, across the valley from Machu Picchu, our trail dips sharply to a suspension bridge spanning the Aobamba River. It’s a short, dusty hike along the valley floor from the river’s edge to the final station on the Sacred Valley railway line from Cusco. Mingling on the station platform are trainloads of other backpack-laden hikers who we merge with after four days of virtual solitude.

After stepping off the train in Aguas Calientes, I soak my tired limbs in naturally heated spring waters before bedding down inside a cosy hotel room and preparing my mind for the inevitable jostling and queuing I expect to encounter outside the entrance to Machu Picchu in the day ahead. Though visiting the ruined Inca city is something I very much look forward to, I have much to look back on as well.

The writer travelled to Peru courtesy of LATAM and World Expeditions.

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