Hi ho, hi ho, is it much further?

Yesterday we covered about 11km horizontally. I'm not sure how much altitude we gained. 11km doesn't sound far, and it's not. I'll be the first to admit that, but when I upload some pics of the terrain you'll see why it was much more challenging than it sounds.

During breakfast this morning we noticed that Mo and her partner were absent. Apparently they were disappointed with their progress yesterday so they'd left early to avoid holding us all up. Of course, they had a guide with them so they wouldn't get lost or anything. Ironically we had fruit salad featuring mango for breakfast. I think this was the only thing that made me notice she was missing.

We left about 7.30 and the guide was not lying when he'd said 80% of today was going to be uphill. Within 10 minutes of leaving we were hiking up our first mountain and another passport control check point.

I was feeling a little envious of TT since the hiking sticks we'd been told to buy felt like more of a burden to me. The hike was hard work but the stick didn't really help me much. Although the stick was probably the only thing that made me look as though I was hiking the Inca trail. Other than that I was looking very casual. I wore jeans and DM boots. Everyone else was wearing multi terrain hiking kit. Most people had those utility belts and many had ropes, climbing gear and oxygen tanks.

Most of the group, including the guide, had asked what I was planning to do when we reached high altitude and continual rain. I'd produced my ultra small pocket umbrella and they'd all stared at me in disbelief.

Mo had critised me the day before, she said I looked "Ill prepared" for the hike. I wondered to myself how bringing Mangos was better preperation than wearing clothes and boots I was comfortable in.

TT was the only one less hikey looking than me. She didn't even have a backpack as all her stuff was in mine.

Anyhoo, I digress. After the checkpoint the real climbing started: Fucking vertical for 4 hours. It's hard to explain how much the altitude is a bitch. Honestly, 20m at sea level is nothing compared to doing it 4km up. The air is so thin it drains your breath away.

I spent most of the morning hiking alone somewhere in the middle of the group. Lunch was a welcome relief. After lunch I started the afternoon with TT after complaining to her that the only thing she was carrying was the water bottle which was the only thing I really missed after she sped off ahead of me.

About 2pm she began to accelerate again (oh the beauty of not carrying two peoples baggage!) but I didn't mind too much as it was raining and I was no longer thirsty.

Around 3.30 I reached the summit about 5km above sea level and was a little surprised when TT and the other "pack leaders" had only beaten me by 7 or 8 minutes.

The descent (that's the heart breaking thing about the Inca trail: the route consists entirely of gradients but the overall change in altitude is almost negligible. What goes up must come down eh?) was treacherous. The rocks were slippery and visibility was down to about 5m. For the first time I was grateful for my walking stick. I prodded the whole way and gradually began to transfer my faith to it. Within 20 minutes I could have walked blindfolded using nothing but my stick for guidance.

It was also the first time I felt really sorry for TT. She landed on her arse about 5 times in the following hour and each time my heart jumped to my mouth as I feared she'd injured herself. Luckily she escaped with nothing more than scrapes and bruises and we arrived at the next camp about 5pm.

Two of the guys that joined us for the trail are Irish and they've already secured themselves a reputation for being anti social. They simply didn't want to talk to anyone else in the group. Until tonight. When they discovered I had some rum. Suddenly barriers were broken and they became the most traditional Irish people on earth. Eg. Pissed.

As they teetered towards their tent one of them grabbed my arm and slurred: "Do you smoke?" to which I replied something along the lines of: "You know I bloody do, I've been borrowing your lighter all bloody night!" and went to bed. A few minutes later the smell of cannabis reached my tent and I realised what he'd meant.

There's nothing like the night sky in Peru. The stars were awfully pretty that night.