Hiking Rainbow Mountain, Cusco Peru

Rainbow Mountain, Peru

I woke up at 4.15am after a fairly good sleep. I threw my clothes on I had prepared and raced upstairs to meet the van at 4.30am. Susie had opted to go for a slightly shorter tour (Exploor's alternative Rainbow Mountain tour) that wasn’t at as high altitude because she didn’t feel 100%. Upstairs I met a Colombian girl called Jenny and a French couple, Marie and Cami. The van then spent the next hour circling Cusco, picking up more people while the tour guide frantically called people – I have no idea who would be answering at that time.

By 8am we were in a small village in the dry, dusty mountains eating pancakes, stale bread (a Peruvian staple) and quinoa tea. I have never heard of this tea before – it was actual white quinoa boiled with some honey and maybe a few spices. It was viscous but it was hot – and I was freezing. I gulped it down, hoping it would give me energy.

We wound up some mountain passes that would put the Crown Range in NZ to shame. If you looked out of the front window on every hairpin turn, the road would no longer be visible and the bus seemed to be driving into thin air. But somehow the driver managed to turn and we made it around the corner, only to face another 1 minute later. If I looked out of my window, I couldn’t actually see the road beneath me, just a sheer 50 metre drop below, that’s how narrow it was.

It was a relief to arrive in the flat carpark. We began our walk at 4300metres. I had no problem breathing there, but I definitely got puffed going up the slightest incline. Jenny walked with me but she was struggling on the flat. We were in a huge valley with snow-capped mountains either side. Llamas grazed the tussock-grass either side of the path. Tiny but strong campesinas (the country people) were selling water, coca leaves and horses to take you up. On the first incline I had to leave Jenny with the tour guide because she was struggling

I trudged on, walking maybe 100 metres then pausing for breath for the first four kilometres. On the fifth and sixth (above 4800m), I could feel the oxygen was no longer making it to my leg muscles so I felt like I was wading through mud. But apart from that and stopping to breathe every 10metres or so, I wasn’t feeling any adverse effects like headaches or dizziness.

Just one staircase from the top, I paused for a breather next to two Irish guys who were waiting for their three female friends to catch up. We had been overtaking each other the whole way up and got chatting. One of them, Connor, was only wearing a t-shirt, while I was wearing a merino top, ski jacket and beanie. I left them to tackle the final stairs. There was probably only 30 steps, but I had to pause three times to breathe. At the top, the French couple were sitting enjoying the view and cheered for me, giving me a high five. I breathed out a huge sigh of relief, then immediately regretted it as I gulped at the air for 10 seconds like a fish out of water, trying to replace all the oxygen I just exhaled.

The Irish group had brought a bag of skittles and were taking photos with them. I ascended the final staircase to the summit to admire the view from the crowds, the Irish took some photos for me. Inexplicably, there were two black labradors sleeping on the 5200 metre summit in the freezing cold gale blowing up from the valley. After about an hour (we made it there before most of the group) we started the descent. I saw the French couple running down (turns out they’re triatheletes).

I felt fine, just hungry and a little tired. Connor was complaining it was too hot and he was getting sunburnt. I should’ve guessed something was wrong with him then, but we were too busy making jokes about the weather in Ireland if he found this hot. He kept applying sunscreen and stopping in shade. It was amazing how easy it was to breathe going down compared to up. The two boys waited for the girls again and I walked on with two guys from Sao Paulo. I found Jenny at the bottom, she was taking panadol and water in the shade. Her face was bright red. Turns out she got a donkey up because she couldn’t walk, and even then she couldn’t breathe at the top so she had to turn around immediately.

Around 15 minutes later as I was snoozing on the bus, Connor was carried on by his friends. He was shaking, sheet white and looked like he couldn’t walk. I think the heat might have been some symptom of altitude, because it was definitely cold on the mountain. I counted myself lucky that I hadn’t had any problems.

We had lunch in the same little village. I wolfed down an enormous lunch of juice, soup, bread, curries, rice, salad and a corn starch dumpling, while Jenny barely touched hers. We were dropped in the square around 7pm and I got a taxi with the French couple.

When I got back, Susie was in bed saying she had been vomiting. I was exhausted but went upstairs to briefly check my emails, and met a girl from Blenheim who worked for Pernod Ricard. We ended up talking for almost an hour, comparing our trips, enjoying the familiarity and not having to explain kiwi phrases.

I must have returned close to 10pm and Susie said she was going to a medical centre. She wasn’t sure if she had food poisoning or altitude sickness. I asked if she wanted me to go, but thankfully she said she was fine to go alone, because I was falling asleep on my feet.