Rain in my face, streams of water running down my sleeves, swampy shoes, and slippery road. It’s been five hours since we left Yanama, a small village in the Peruvian Andes and the rain hasn’t stopped since then. There are still 12 kilometers to go to Totora, the nearest village. Upon reaching Yanama pass at almost 4,700 meters it starts snowing. We are both wet head to toes. My hands, holding two tree branches (aka walking poles), are freezing so bad I can barely feel them, but otherwise I’m warm – walking as fast as I can, trying to catch up with my boyfriend Franco who walks faster than me. Suddenly I slip, and while grabbing onto something to avoid sliding down the hill I cut my finger. Blood mixed with rainwater is now running down my hand and tears down my cheeks. Angry at the walking sticks that failed me I throw them away. Then down the road I see Franco and next to him a car. As I come closer I see two men butchering a cow in the middle of the road, streams of blood mixed with water running down the road. “I found us a ride,” Franco says. Wet, cold and with a bleeding hand by now I don’t mind sharing a ride with two strangers and a cow’s corpse. We take off our backpacks, get inside and open a small bottle of pisco we bought for ‘emergencies’ to warm up. It’s Christmas Eve by the way. Everybody in Latin America, and probably in the world, has heard the name “Machu Picchu” – the last capital of the fallen Inca Empire lost in the Peruvian mountains. Many also heard about the Inca Trail, a 3 or 4-day walk through the mountains to the Inca city. We were dying to do that walk before finding out you could only do it with a guide, and it costs a fortune. “There must be some other way,” I thought, and at a small Cusco hotel I started searching the web for something that would satisfy both our adventurous spirits and our rather thin wallet. In an hour it was decided – we would take a tough week-long Choquequirao trail, and after visiting other Inca ruins and crossing several peaks we’d get to Machu Picchu. Next morning, we left for Cachora, a small village at the start of the trail. The first day was a steep descent from Cachora’s 3000 meters to the campsite by the river at 1500 meters. When I made it to the campsite my knees were shaking and getting out of the tent the next morning was very painful. But it was just the beginning. Now we had to climb back up to 3000 meters to reach Choquequirao ruins. All the sweat and pain were well worth it though. Besides a couple of other hikers, we were the only visitors at the Inca city and had a chance to explore and enjoy it in silence and solitude. One of the main attractions of Choquequirao is the famous llama wall, which we wanted to see. We followed the signs that took us to the stone balconies, walked down and down, but didn’t see a single llama until at some point we realized they were behind our backs all that time, but because of the stone colors they could only be seen from a distance. The next days were similar to the first ones – going up and down. We made friends with “arrieros” – local mule drivers traveling with tourists and groups who don’t want to carry their backpacks – shared dinner with them and in exchange got to try typical local liquor and some coca leaves. We spent a night at a “cloud farm” in Maizal, a lone house on top of the mountain, so high up that you see clouds passing by and sometimes revealing a breathtaking scenery. We slept in the same room with an entire Peruvian family, their dogs and a cat because it was too wet outside to put up a tent. Many times, we failed to make fire because of the rain and were invited to cook inside people’s houses – which still meant cooking on the open fire. We spent that Christmas eve drying our shoes and socks next to a fire in a local man’s kitchen in Totora and trying to decide whether to continue walking or take a minivan. Our egos were very uncomfortable at the thought of quitting, but objectively we were not prepared for that much rain and cold. One day, I’m sure, we’ll be back to finish that track. A lot of the experiences on the Choquequirao trek seemed bizarre and unbelievable. And, when we finally made it to Machu Picchu, it seemed overcrowded and too civilized. Even with all its beautiful and incredibly well-preserved Inca constructions, for us, it couldn’t possibly compete with the pristine faraway Choquequirao and our intense trekking experience.