What a Peru hiking holiday at 55 taught me about my own life back home

When I saw the lakes, I knew I’d made the right decision. Laid out in a chain along a stepped valley, two turquoise pools were separated by the swathe of a third dark blue pool – beautiful proof of how wondrous our planet can be. Towering on the far side was an impossibly steep slope of rock and scree and, above this, a huge glacier too white and pristine to seem real. I arrived late at the viewpoint. The rest of the group had taken their photos, so I had plenty of time to soak it all in before collapsing on the ground to rest, drink a llama-load of water and snaffle an energy bar.

More than anything else, it was the lakes that had drawn me to the Huayhuash circuit. Part of Peru’s Cordillera Blanca, I’d heard that the scenery was amazing, and that the route rivals more well-known paths such as the Inca Trail and Torres del Paine’s W-trek. Online searches showed an image of the lakes – sun-washed, saturated – but when I looked for operators, it seemed very few UK-based companies offered the walk. Why, I wondered.

A feeling of fear

The eight-hour ride from the Peruvian capital of Lima was painless, the landscape ever grander as the bus climbed from sea-level to 10,000 feet. But the air on arrival in Huaraz was thin. Me and my partner, Kate, walked slowly around town, joining our fellow hikers and two guides, Lucia and Carina, for dinner. Most people do the circuit in groups of a dozen or so, sharing cooks, drovers, beasts of burden and tents.

After a sleepover and a short acclimatising downhill jaunt the following day, we travelled up to the first campsite. A brisk evening walk of no more than an hour’s duration up and down a nearby slope, was tough. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The campsite, a sign advised, was 13,714 feet – higher than Lake Titicaca. I went to bed with a vague feeling of trepidation.

I was the second least fit person in the group. My preparation had been some spinning classes and a couple of lightweight hikes at home. But I had a game plan, which was to go really slowly, rest frequently and not to care about the younger, fitter, keener walkers in front. Some were from Austria, Switzerland and the Rockies; I knew they’d be flying along.

Hard pass

The trudge to the first pass was hard work. Even Kate, who does hill-running and triathlons, struggled, meaning I was the voice of encouragement (paid back with interest later on). It helped distract me from my own trials and, in a couple of hours, we found ourselves at 15,400 feet – not bad for day one. Excitingly, we were at the continental watershed and behind us the rivers tumbled to the Pacific Ocean. From now on we would be washing and filling our bottles at streams bound for the Amazon – and the Atlantic.

A hiking holiday is inevitably episodic and there were plenty of (ankle) twists and (funny) turns throughout the eight-day walk. There was an army training-quality to our routines: 6am wake up with coca tea; breakfast; packs on; walk upwards for four or five hours; rest for 15 minutes at a pass; speed-eat lunch; walk for five or six hours down to a campsite. That the latter were sited in extraordinary locations – with soaring snow-capped mountains on all sides – was some comfort, and the steaming soups and power-giving tuber and meat dishes were life-saving.

Yet it soon became obvious why the hike is undersubscribed and undersold in the UK. There are no Inca sites on the Huayhuash circuit; there are no lodges or hotels; there are no porters heaving an insane load of other people’s gear. The age range of walkers is wide, but everyone has to carry a fair-sized pack with clothes and provisions for each day. In short, it’s not an easy hike.

Ups and downs

On the second day, the least fit person in our group – having spent most of his time sitting on a horse – decided to go home. Several people needed to borrow animal blankets after discovering that nights at high altitudes are freezing; especially when you’re camping in a wind-blown marsh. Yet despite the challenges, there were some major positives. The lack of luxuries and services, and the fact you don’t have to fly in, makes the walk about as low impact as a walk in a faraway country can be. We left nothing behind, kept to well-worn paths, and hardly used any hot water.

The hiking operations also have community value. To get a dozen people around a challenging trail in one piece you need donkey and llama herders, cooks, assorted labourers, and guides. Our companions – and that’s what they felt like, not staff – were local Quechua-speakers with fluent Spanish and some English. They knew the topography, the main trail and offshoots intimately; they were charming, helpful and skilled almost to a fault. Ever tried to knock up a quinoa salad and tuna ceviche from a backpack after a five-hour climb? Me neither.

The final day

Huayhuash is a transhumance region, with the hike only feasible during the dry months between May and September. While on the circuit, you are forced to step out of your comfort zone – always a positive on a holiday in my opinion. We admired the tropical glaciers of famed summits such as Yerupajá, Huascarán and Siula Grande and there were moments of Zen-like tranquillity as we walked along fertile plains under a warm sun.

The final day came all too soon – and with it, a knee-trembling descent of almost 4,000 feet; a life-long walking pole-shunner, I was a born-again convert by this stage. At the bottom of the mountain was the village of Pocpa and a celebratory pachamanka – a traditional feast. Huge and generous, it gave us a carb boost that we no longer needed, but eating seated around a long wooden table, with windows and a toilet, it was the first step back to the modern Peru of roads, Wi-Fi, hotels and civilization.

One of the oddest things about travel in your forties and fifties, and beyond, is the assumption – by travel firms as well as passengers – that as you get older you need comfort, lots of food and drink, idle pleasures, swanky hotels. It's as if backpacking is age-sensitive, and roughing it, meaning camping and cooking and eating outdoors, isn’t its own luxury.

That may be the best thing of all about the Huayhuash circuit – it reminds you that you don't really need any of the usual luxuries to get through the day – at home or abroad. Not every day, anyway. And you're never too old to try to push yourself, challenge yourself, and climb a mountain or two.

How to do it

Andean Trails (0131 467 7086, andeantrails.co.uk) offers a 16-day trip, including the Huayhuash circuit, from ￡1,888pp, including all in-country transport, airport transfers, accommodation, tour guides, cook, meals and park entrance fees. Flights to Lima with KLM (020 7660 0293; klm.co.uk) cost from ￡582 return with one transfer.

Arrivals must either prove that they are fully vaccinated or provide a negative PCR test taken within 48 hours of departure (under-12 exempt). Passengers must wear two face masks on flights bound for Peru and complete a travel form prior to departure.