Peru Archives - Anna S. E. Lundberg

From Quito to Buenos Aires in 3 months: My trip in numbers

19 August, 2013 By Anna S E Lundberg 6 Comments

So that’s it! My sabbatical in South America is all done and accounted for. I hope you’ve enjoyed following along and getting a peek at some of what I’ve been experiencing since leaving for Ecuador on 1st May. But don’t worry, although this particular adventure may be over the journey, and the writing, continues. And in the meantime, as we live in a data-driven world, let’s take a look at some statistics from the trip:

Months spent travelling: 3
Countries visited: 8
Towns and cities visited: 34
Buses taken: 31 (including 4 night buses)
Trains taken: 1 (Oruro-Uyuni)
Flights flown: 7 (Geneva-Amsterdam-Quito, Quito-Galapagos, Galapagos-Guayaquil, Santiago-Mendoza, Buenos Aires-Paris-Geneva)
Boat trips taken: 4 (Galapagos yacht plus Copacabana-Isla del Sol-Copacabana and Colonia-Montevideo)
Horses ridden: 1
Bicycles ridden: 2
Wine tours taken: 1
Beds slept in: 38 (including 1 boat and 1 tent)
Wonders of the world visited: 3 (1 ‘new’: Machu Picchu; 1 ‘natural’: Iguazú Falls; 1 ‘modern’: Itaipú Dam)
Ruins visited: 13
Observatories observed: 2
New constellations learned: 5
Foursquare mayorships won: 17
Churches photographed: too many to count
Photos taken: definitely too many to count
Panama hats bought: 0 (Haven’t you been paying attention? It’s called a sombrero de paja toquilla)
Bracelets bought: 3
Bracelets lost: 1
iPhones stolen: 1
Bank cards consumed by ATMs: 1 (The machine in Cusco “went to sleep”)
Guns in my face: 1 (Say it with me: PARAGUAY)
Friends’ weddings missed: 3
Baby nieces born: 1
Films watched: 34 (Mostly on buses but also 3 at the cinema. My favourites: The Bucket List, My Name is Khan, The Help, Now You See Me)
Books read: 9 (Mostly in the first few weeks, then nothing!)
Blog posts written: 50
Views on my blog: 5,702
Massages enjoyed: 3
Pedicures done: 2
Bikini waxes booked: 0
Hair dryers used: 1
Make-up worn: 3 times
Pisco sours drunk: 6
Alpaca burgers eaten: 2
Sushi eaten: 4 times
White bread force-fed to me: 534 kg
Coca tea drunk: 7 litres
Dulce de leche devoured: 23 kg
Tangos tangoed: 0
Salsas salsaed: 0
Compliments received: enough to make a girl blush
Facebook friends added: 11
Spanish words learned: muchas
Memorable experiences experienced: MUCHÍSIMAS

From Cusco to Puno: The Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca

30 June, 2013 By Anna S E Lundberg 2 Comments

From Cusco, I took the Inka Express bus for tourists, recommended by the Swiss man on my Galapagos cruise and by Lonely Planet. This meant that I wasn’t allowed to sleep on the journey as I would have liked, but instead we were herded off to see some church or ruin every hour or so. The guide was a charming man who looked like the French guy who lures Liam Neeson’s daughter into human trafficking in the movie Taken. “Mi nombre es Hugo. Cómo Hugo Boss. O Hugo Chávez. Jajaja.” He gave the exact same spiel in English as in Spanish.

On the way, we saw many of the non-native eucalyptus trees, imported from Australia to stop soil erosion but now planted everywhere as a cheap and profitable crop. Unfortunately in disregard of the fact that these thirsty trees are sucking the soil dry and in a few years time they won’t be biologically or economically feasible anymore. It was snowing at the highest point on the route, and the unfortunate souls who were bravely manning the artisan stalls had to cover them up and, I’m sure, did not do good business that day. In the communities at this high altitude, we were told, life expectancy is very low. This is due to the climate, their poor diet (they kept livestock but only to sell, while they stick to a very monotonous vegetarian diet), and the use of lama dung as fuel in houses with no windows. Community properties (previously under a feudal system) lack the titles to prove ownership, so the government could take the resources of these areas whenever they want to. The most important promise, therefore, that a politician in this area can make is to award these titles; but the inhabitants have been waiting 30 years for these promises to be fulfilled. Families have 4-6 children, as they need the labour, and education is limited though legally compulsory up to the age of 16. Education, as I’ve been repeatedly told by earnest locals, is the key to economic development and equality.

As we approached our destination, we passed through the commercial centre of Juliaca, strategically located between Cusco, Puno, and Arequipa, and close to the Bolivian border, and as such a centre of contraband trade. Puno, in fact, wasn’t a whole lot nicer, though more geared towards tourists. The main attraction is a visit to one of the islands, and in particular the unusual Islas de los Uros. The Uros are a pre-Incan people who live on manmade islands created from totora reed, originally built as a defensive measure against their aggressive neighbours.

The boat I took had some rather serious engineering problems but eventually we arrived at the island of Chumi. Five families make this island their home, with a president to lead them. In total, there are 2,000 Aymara-speaking inhabitants on 80 different islands. There is a small hospital and there are three primary schools, but for secondary education the children must travel to the mainland. On the capital island, there are even hotels. “No hay discoteca. No hay internet.” The principal activity is fishing; on the mainland, 1kg of fish can be exchanged for 2kg of potatoes. The people here also hunt birds and eat the meat – better than chicken, apparently. For entertainment, they play football and volleyball – but not basketball. And their weddings last for two days, with people coming all the way from Cusco and Arequipa to get married here.

From the small island of Chumi, we were told that we could also make a special visit to the capital island, for an additional, but apparently not optional, cost. As we left Chumi in one of the traditional boats (less traditionally powered by a small boat behind us with an engine), three women said their goodbyes. They sang a local song, followed by Row, row, row your boat, and finally Vamos a la playa. No commercialism here. We had a lovely boat ride after which we were dumped on a small patch of totora reed with an artisan shop, a restaurant, and a toilet. This must have been the ghetto of the capital. We all stood around there for an hour until the captain decided we would be allowed back to Puno.

The next day, I left Peru for the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca.

Photo opportunity at the highest point on the journey from Cusco to Puno

On the boat to the Islas de los Uros

Should the engine be smoking like that?

The island of Chimu

“Bang! Bang! This is how we shoot the tourists.” Haha.

Our boat to the capital

Adiós Peru!

Saints, bulls and Pachamama: Faith and worship in South America

26 June, 2013 By Anna S E Lundberg Leave a Comment

Ha! As if I could hope to cover such a topic in one short post, and having just visited a few cities in a few countries. But what I can do is share my experiences of religion on my trip to date.

On arriving in Cusco for the Inca Trail, I was lucky enough for my visit to coincide with the start of the Corpus Christi festival. The saints of each of the parishes were taken to the Cathedral, from where they were paraded through town, and returned to their homes a week later. The saints were displayed in all their glory: one wore a beautiful pink and silver dress and carried a parasol and a bird; another was riding a horse; yet another looked like Michael Jackson. (There is, of course, a Santa Ana, and I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that she is the patron saint of corn beer…) The Plaza de Armas was filled with people, there were food stalls with pile after pile of cuy (guinea pig), and brass bands were playing everywhere I went.

Corpus Christi, like the Catholic religion as a whole, was imposed by the Spanish over Incan traditions. The Incas used to carry their mummies around the main square, to honour their ancestors; the Spaniards simply superimposed images of their saints and virgins. The Virgin Mary, for example, is said to represent Mother Earth, or Pachamama. Santiago, or Saint James, is Illapa, god of lightning and thunder.

To achieve this change in belief system, the Spaniards had to educate the local people on their new religion. As the Incas had no written language, this education was often done via images. The Iglesia de San Pedro, en route from Cusco to Puno, is built on Inca foundations, with original murals from the Jesuits and paintings with ornate gold frames as well as Moorish ceiling art added by the Dominicans. Two murals at the back of the church convey the nature of hell, on the left, and heaven, on the right, a departure from the Incan cosmology of three worlds. The murals being painted by indigenous artists, hell is not underground – the earth world was sacred to the Incas – but instead is depicted off to the side. An old white man is crossing the bridge to heaven, but on his back is a rope that is being pulled by the devil, representing temptation. The doorway holds text in Latin, Spanish, Quechua (phonetically written down by the Spaniards), and Aymara, the language spoken in the Altiplano region of Bolivia and around Lake Titicaca. Even more divergent is the mural depicting judgement day and hell in the Iglesia de San Juan Bautista, a few minutes away: here, you may be a little surprised when you find that a pope is among the eternally damned.

Elsewhere, other incongruities can be found as a result of this syncretism. The painting of the last supper in the Cathedral in Cusco includes a plate of cuy, the local corn, and the Andean drink chicha morada on the dinner table, along with a viscacha (wild chinchilla) instead of the more usual lamb. You may also be surprised to find a black Jesus (though his colour is not due to some great statement but simply having darkened with time), El Señor de los Tremblores, credited with the ending of a great earthquake in 1650. (Interesting fact: many churches collapsed in successive earthquakes in 1650, 1950, and 2007, while the Inca-built constructions survived.) In the Museo de San Francisco in La Paz, Bolivia, you will find the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus wearing the feather crowns of Andean royalty, and paintings depicting the passion of the Christ in which it is the Spaniards, not the Romans, who are whipping and crucifying Jesus.

The whole nature of Catholic churches, the world over but even more so in South America, is quite foreign to me, having grown up with the Lutheran churches of poor Sweden, where we had only wood, sometimes painted to look like marble, as well as the still relatively simple Anglican churches in the UK. The churches I’ve visited in Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile are in contrast incredibly ornate, with gold and silver, mirrors to reflect the sunlight and conjure illumination, and all those patron saints and virgins. In San Francisco, La Paz, I happened upon the end of a special mass, and was intrigued to see people filing out with statues, paintings, and glass cases in their arms, having had these objects blessed. In Copacabana, the priests throw holy water on the bonnets and engines of people’s cars.

Although foreign to me, and providing no specific religious benefit or solace, I still appreciate the peace and serenity you find in an (empty) church. I like to go inside and light a candle for my grandparents and for my cousin, to show that I’m thinking of them. But sadly many churches now have electric candles, which completely lack the spirituality of a real flame.

And local traditions remain. Witches’ markets sell lama foetuses to bury under house foundations in honour of Pachamama. When drinking corn beer, the first drop is always poured onto the ground in her honour as well. In the Aymara region, small clay bulls are placed as the final touch in a new house to bring the family luck and protection. And in the bull-fighting ring, a condor is tied to the bull to symbolise the fight against the Spanish.

While we’re on the subject, the conquistadors of course did not conquer the continent with only their faith. When Pizarro came to Peru in 1532, the Inca empire was still young, less than 100 years old, and had been weakened by a civil war between two brothers after the death of their Inca king father. The victor, Atahualpa, was easily captured and his unarmed guards killed in their thousands. He bargained for his freedom and offered a huge ransom of gold and silver, which Pizarro gratefully accepted, after which he killed Atahualpa anyway.

Cusco cathedral and the crowds at Plaza de Armas

San Sebastian, one of the patron saints

The Iglesia de San Pedro, built on very stable Inca foundations

The Iglesia de San Juan Bautista – looks simple from the outside!

One of the bulls of the Aymara

Up on the roof of the Iglesia de San Francisco, La Paz

Machu Picchu: I came, I saw, I wondered

22 June, 2013 By Anna S E Lundberg 3 Comments

Today was a special day in the Inca calendar: the winter solstice, on which day the morning rays of the sun would perfectly align with temples and streets and windows throughout the empire, intentionally built to coordinate with this astronomical date. Why don’t we construct buildings like that today?! It was also the time of the most important festival of the year, Inti Raymi, the Festival of the Sun. Unfortunately I’ve passed the southern reaches of the Inca empire, so there were no special celebrations where I was, and I spent much of the day on a bus. But I did enjoy the sun warming my skin through the window.

On the fourth and final day of the Inca Trail, we had a 3.30am wake-up call. The porters moved as if someone had pressed fast forward: Coca tea! Water! Breakfast! And the tents were packed up within seconds of us getting out. We said goodbye, as the porters had to run to catch the only local train back to Ollantaytambo – if they missed it, they would have to hike back to the start. The rest of us got our gear together and set off with our headlamps in the dark. Five minutes later we’d arrived at the queue to enter Machu Picchu, and settled down to wait for the entrance to open at 5.30am.

It was still dark when movement up ahead indicated that the checkpoint was open, and we filed through to have our tickets checked. From there, it was another hour to get to the Sun Gate, followed by a 30-minute descent into the site. It was a nice walk, the air pleasantly cool, and I marched on to reach our goal (the group told me later that I had set a tough pace, but we were so close! How could I have gone more slowly?). The only tricky bit was the ‘monkey steps’, so named because gringos have to climb the steep staircase on all fours (I stayed upright, sort of, out of pride).

Setting off before dawn, we were getting close to our final destination

At the top, after climbing the monkey steps

Arriving at the Sun Gate, and finally looking down on the famous site, my eyes welled up, just a little. It’s true what they say: however many times you’ve seen the pictures, it’s still a unique experience when you finally see it with your own eyes. When Hiram Bingham discovered the site in 1911, it would have been swallowed up by the jungle but he still recognised the importance of the ruins. As we continued on, we had different views from different angles until we reached the classic postcard shot of the ruins below the mountain of Wayna Picchu. We had arrived at Machu Picchu (pronounced pic-chu – who knew?), and I had my new Facebook cover photo – which is, of course, the goal of all travel.

Arriving at the Sun Gate, Intipunktu, and finally glimpsing that most famous of all Inca sites

The Shot

After descending into the ruins, we had to exit the site only to re-enter without our big backpacks and walking sticks. Within minutes, the ruins were filled with those evil tourists who had taken the train up. You could recognise them a mile away by their jeans, perfume, perfectly styled hair and make up (the women, that is). Bah humbug. There were also a few lamas, as well as security guards to keep us from climbing on the walls.

One of the less annoying beings we encountered in the ruins

Machu Picchu is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, now thought to have been a country estate of the Inca emperor Pachacuti (1438-72). It was actually known locally, with three families even living there and farming the land when Bingham arrived and then brought it to the attention of the world. Somehow, the Spanish conquistadors did not reach Machu Picchu, leaving it more intact than the many other sites that were sacked. Its geography is sacred according to Inca beliefs, surrounded as it is by the Río Urubamba, and four important mountains. Unfortunately all the original names of these places have been lost, so the names we use today are contemporary names.

The houses in which three local families were living when Bingham ‘discovered’ the site

The Torreón, or Temple of the Sun, its main window lining up with the first rays of the sun on the winter solstice (now closed to the public, as I have since found out, due to two Spanish tourists graffitiing the inside wall. Haven’t you done enough, España?!).

The Intihuatana, a ritual stone thought to have been an astronomical calendar or sacrificial site of some sort. (One of the fascinating things about Inca history is how little we actually know, so much is theory and speculation.)

Thought by Bingham to have been a royal mausoleum, this structure is now considered to have been a temple for Pachamama, Mother Earth

The Incas constructed important, usually religious, buildings with stones cut to fit together perfectly without mortar

Exploring the ruins

It started to rain just as we were leaving the ruins to take the bus down to Aguas Calientes. Quite fortuitous timing, I’d say. Thank you Inti, sun god of the Incas. In Aguas Calientes, we had a final group lunch together and celebrated with a pisco sour. I took the Inca Rail train, a train with leather seats and big windows, thankfully without the touristy entertainment they provide on some trains (strange fashion shows and ‘authentic’ music and dancing), back to Ollantaytambo, from where I was picked up and taken back to Cusco.

Aguas Calientes, otherwise known as Machu Picchu pueblo

It’s strange when you’ve seen so many pictures of a place and then you’re finally there… for a brief moment, and then you’re gone. Now it seems like a dream. Was I really there? Afterwards, in Cusco, I visited the new Machu Picchu museum and found it surreal to explore a model of the ruins having been there in person just a day or two before. Machu Picchu captured the world’s imagination 100 years ago and has retained its wonder, despite its commercialisation in the past few years. In fact, in 2007, it was voted as one of the seven modern wonders of the world; the other that I’ve visited is the Colosseum in Rome. That still leaves many more to explore: the Great Wall of China, Petra in Jordan, Christ the Redeemer in Rio, Chichen Itza in Mexico, the Taj Mahal, and the Great Pyramid of Giza (yes, there are eight, as Egypt succeeded in tagging on the pyramid, the only surviving original wonder of the ancient world). So lots more travelling to do!

Reflecting on the wonder that is Machu Picchu

The practical bit:
-Lonely Planet says you need to queue up on the day to get one of the limited tickets to climb up Wayna Picchu but this is out of date, you have to book it in advance. Unfortunately there were no tickets left by the time I found this out, but in the end, I was tired after the hike, it had started to rain, and I was pretty happy with what I’d seen of the ruins.
-Make sure to get a Machu Picchu stamp in your passport as you leave via the main entrance!

The Inca Trail: Four days and 45km to reach Machu Picchu

21 June, 2013 By Anna S E Lundberg 2 Comments

First of all, as I’ve been told now both in Peru and in Bolivia, there is more than one Inca trail – the Inca road system consisted of about 40,000km across the empire. But the famous one to which tourists flock is the Inca Trail, capital I, capital T, the Camino Inca, a four day/three night pilgrimage to Machu Picchu. This is what I had signed up for, the classic route.

The night before leaving, I had nightmares and then couldn’t get back to sleep after 2.30am, anxious and excited about the days ahead. The pick-up was at 5am, with a 1.5 hour drive to Ollantaytambo, a small town at 2,800m that retains its Inca structure, with a huge fortress above. At breakfast, I bought a poncho for 25 soles – it didn’t rain the whole time, so it was a worthwhile investment, I think. We passed adobe houses (they still use the same construction techniques as hundreds of years ago) that had been destroyed in flooding this past February. We also saw a truckload of children being shipped off back home for the weekend – coming from remote villages, they had to travel there for school from the age of eight. From Ollantaytambo, we continued on to Km 82, from where we would start our trek. The 13 other people in my group were super friendly from the start, supportive when someone struggled because of the altitude, and rarely complaining. Our group, though, was bigger than this 14: we had the main English-speaking guide, Ramiro, plus a second Spanish-speaking guide, Hilton; and then we had the porters.

Porters make up more than half of the 500 people who embark on the Inca Trail every day. These are indigenous men, coming from the surrounding highlands and with no more than a primary school education, and this is one of the few jobs for which they are qualified. Their role is to carry our gear – most tourists just carry a small daypack with water, snacks, camera, etc, leaving the sleeping bag, sleeping mat, and extra clothes to the porters – along with the tents, tables and stools, food, and cooking equipment. Just a few years back, there were no regulations, and there would be just four or five porters for a group of our size, carrying as much as 50kg each. Today, the personal things that we give them must not weigh more than 5kg, while the total weight the porters carry may not exceed 25kg; we had 13 porters, including the chef who both cooked and carried. These small men will run past you on the trail with their ‘backpacks’ – more like huge sacks, towering above them. “Porter, porter!” – you’ll hear the warning and you’re advised to back up against the mountain, rather than risk being pushed off the cliff. There was one 21 year old for whom this was his first tour group. At the other extreme, there was a man of 47 who had been working on the trail for 20 years. The oldest were Victor and Victor Raul, at 52.

At the 82km mark, we had our passes stamped at the entrance to the trail, and crossed the Río Urubamba to start our trek. Soon we saw our first ruins in the valley below, Llaqtapata. Our guide, Ramiro, gave us all the history of the sites but also showed us the local trees and plants along the way. My favourites were the yellow dancing lady orchids and lady slippers, and the purple flower, forever young (my flower!). The last stretch of this first day seemed to never end, but the satisfaction of reaching camp was worth it. I was first to camp that day and the following days too. Ramiro said, “It’s not a race” – pff! (Luckily, I didn’t have problems with the altitude. My large ribcage, which has otherwise been the source of much distress, seems to come with the benefit of housing big lungs.)

Fresh-faced and full of anticipation as we set off at the 82km mark

Our first ruins, Llaqtapata

Relieved to have made it through the first day

Day two, we’d been told, was the hardest: eight hours of trekking, including a climb of 1,200m in altitude, which was done mostly by the stone steps of the Incas. I thought they were short?! These steps were sometimes half a metre in height, and always continued for longer than you thought (or hoped). The worst part is that you don’t just go up, you go down as well – what a waste of energy! Why don’t they have zip lines to fly across the valleys to avoid this kind of inefficiency? And walking down is actually very hard on your knees. Thankfully, one of the girls in my group found me the perfect branch for a walking stick, which did wonders. I felt like Gandalf roaming Middle Earth with his staff. We reached Warmiwañusca, Dead Woman’s Pass, at 4,215m, after which we descended into the valley to eat lunch. No rest for the wicked, though, as we continued on to the egg-shaped Runkuraqay and the ‘inaccessible town’ of Sayaqmarka, after which we finally reached our resting place for the night. This second camp site gave us spectacular views of the sun setting and rising over the mountains.

Some of the never-ending Inca steps

The view from Dead Woman’s Pass was well worth the climb

The ruins at Sayaqmarka

The view from my tent

Day three started with another tough ascent but spectacular views over the mountains, including the sacred Inca peak of Salkantay. This was an ‘easy’ day, visiting the Phuyupatamarka ruins and the Intipata agricultural terraces, and arriving at the camp site at 1pm. I chose to brave the cold – ice cold – shower so as to be nice and fresh for Machu Picchu the next day. From outside the cabins, you could hear the squeals, both male and female: eeeee! oooo! wow! brrrr! (Lonely Planet says there are hot meals and massages here but not anymore! The government shut it down.) There was an afternoon visit to the Wiñay Wayna ruins but I stayed in my tent as I was coming down with a cold and wanted to be healthy for the big finish the following day. I’ve since been told that these ruins were the highlight of the trek. Ho hum. After dinner (which included a cake with the words “Mañana, llegamos a Machu Picchu” – tomorrow, we arrive at Machu Picchu – my second cake with inspirational icing on this trip), we had a ceremony to thank and tip the porters, and then it was off to bed, in preparation for the 3.30am start the next day to get to the Machu Picchu check point when they opened at 5.30am.

Phuyupatamarka and the mountains beyond

The peak in the background is Machu Picchu! Anticipation was mounting…

The terraces at Intipata

I actually slept quite well – the tents were great, and the sleeping bags sufficiently warm, while my down jacket made a perfectly adequate pillow; the main problem was the hardness of the ground, which bruised my hips and led to having to turn over endlessly to alternate the side that felt the pain. And I ate very well, the meals were way beyond my expectations. In the morning, we had a wake-up call with coca tea, followed by four, yes four, sit-down meals. Breakfast was bread with jam, hot drinks, plus omelette or pancakes; lunch was a two-course meal with soup as a starter and a hearty main dish (plus yummy garlic bread on the first day); happy hour was not what we would expect at home but it was pretty happy nonetheless, with trays full of popcorn and wontons drizzled with caramel; and dinner was a three-course affair with meat plus a choice of three carbohydrates for the main, followed by dessert and hot drinks. We could also buy snacks and drinks at various little stalls along the way, the cost increasing exponentially with the distance from civilisation and the time and effort needed to carry the items up the mountain. The toilets, by the way, started as toilets (1 sol and you get toilet paper and running water), became posh ceramic holes in the ground, then just holes in the ground, and finally returned to actual toilets when we reached the tourist hub of Machu Picchu.

Lunchtime

I had been so focused on seeing Machu Picchu itself, that I had completely missed the fact that I would have three fantastic days of experiencing nature, exploring several other ruins, getting to know 13 lovely people, and pushing myself physically with the satisfying feeling of achievement that followed. I understand that some people don’t have time to do the trek, while others are physically unable to do so. But for the rest of you, I strongly encourage you to invest your time and money to experience the full wonder of this Inca pilgrimage, rather than just taking the train up to tick another box.

The practical bit:
-I went with Inca Trail Reservations – well organised, good food (with a vegetarian option), and a friendly, English-speaking guide. Another company that comes highly recommended from a friend is Explorandes.
-What to bring:
–passport (not a copy)
–camera with extra batteries if possible (there are no power outlets)
–sunglasses
–sun hat
–sun cream
–insect repellent
–anti-bacterial gel and/or wet wipes
–toilet paper
–different vest tops/t-shirts (I had one for each day)
–layers: different cardigans and jumpers to put on and take off as you move and stop, walk in the sun and walk in the shade
–hat and gloves for the cold nights (you can buy these cheaply at the many artisan stalls in Cusco)
–socks and underwear
–down pillow or jacket to use as pillow
–long trousers (the ones that zip off into shorts are silly but practical given the rapid changes in temperature)
–other trousers for when you arrive at camp/to sleep in (I had both jeans and sweatpants plus a long-sleeved top to sleep in)
–hiking shoes
–other shoes for when you arrive at camp (I had flip flops, a bit cold at night but useful for the showers on the third day)
–flash light, ideally a headlamp (useful for trips to the toilet in the dark, and for the final day when you set off before dawn)
–toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, shampoo etc if you’re going to brave the cold showers on the third day, wet wipes to stay fresh the rest of the time)
–walking stick (I thought this was just for old and decrepit people but it’s almost indispensable, especially when you go downhill. You can bring a posh fibreglass one or buy a cheap wooden one locally)
–swimsuit and towel if you’re going to the thermal baths in Aguas Calientes
–money for tips for the porters (given as a group, recommended is a total amount that gives each porter c. 80 soles) and the two guides (personal), as well as for lunch and souvenirs on the last day in Aguas Calientes
–diary and pen to take notes
–water (I brought 2 litres that got me through the first two days, then drank boiled water that was provided. You can also buy it on the first two days, though it’s expensive. I bought a sling in Cusco to carry a bottle outside of my backpack, or you can have a camel pack if you’re fancy.)
–snacks (They’re meant to be provided, but we just got a biscuit and an apple on the second day.)
–basic first aid kit and any personal medication
The agency provides a sleeping mat, and you can rent a sleeping bag if you don’t have your own (- I also recommend a silk/cotton sleeping bag liner to stay clean and warm!).