I’m in Peru, preparing to hike the Inca Quarry Trail and visit Machu Picchu. To read “High old time (Part 1),” please see the previous post.

After breakfast, our group of nine turned in our packed duffels and left Cusco in the rain. The day cleared as our van headed toward the Sacred Valley, an area that has supported farming for centuries. Both sides of the Urubamba River are terraced for growing crops. The van turned onto a dirt road and climbed through adobe villages into the mountains. Election signs were painted boldly in black and red on whitewashed stone walls. Twice we were stopped by herds of sheep in the road.

A few days before arriving in Peru, I began taking acetazolamide pills as a precaution against altitude sickness.

Some people are not affected by high altitude, but I didn’t want to risk enjoying my trek to Machu Picchu in order to find out if I was one of them.

Other measures that were suggested to me included acclimating over several days, staying hydrated, taking ibuprofen tablets, drinking the local coca tea, and chewing coca leaves. I followed all recommendations.