This was my long-awaited first proper holiday of the year. And instead of spending it somewhere on a Maldivian beach, where the biggest concern would be choosing between sleeping, snorkelling, or reading, we spent a small fortune to fly across the world to Peru — for a four-day hike with no internet, no shower and no comfort. Do I regret it? Not for a second. How was it? Hard, but let me tell you more.

Mountain hiking was always somewhere in the background, but it never quite became a plan. Then the perfect storm arrived: burnout, endless phone notifications, the desire for a legitimate excuse to switch off, and parents who also needed a reset and wanted to spend time with us. Everything clicked, and we thought: right, we are doing the hike. Six of us in total, with the youngest being me at 25 and the oldest my dad at 59. But where to go?

When choosing the trail, a few things were clear:

That is when we found it: the Inca Trail — four days and three nights along ancient Peruvian paths, with a maximum altitude of around 4,200 metres and an average of about 3,400. The route constantly goes up and down, which is far easier for beginners than a full “all the way up” or “all the way down” trek, where your body repeats the same movement for hours. And, of course, Machu Picchu is waiting at the very end.

It felt right.

Preparation can be roughly divided into four parts. None of them are difficult or time-consuming, but it is better not to skip them. I ignored one — and I regretted it.

The most expensive part was the airfare. We flew from Abu Dhabi (it was cheaper than flying from Dubai) to Lima, and the return tickets for two people came to 12,000 AED, with two layovers — one in Istanbul and another in Panama. The internal flight from Lima to Cusco was an additional 250 AED per person.

The trek itself cost 1,000 USD per person, which included three days of meals, tents, trail and Machu Picchu entry tickets, and a guide who stayed with us throughout the entire journey and was available 24/7. Hiring a porter — the person who carries your sleeping bag, mat, and clothing — was an extra 250 USD, with the bag limited to 12 kilos.

There were also the costs of hotels before and after the hike, along with food on non-hiking days. Nothing particularly extravagant — prices were generally a bit lower than what you would expect in mid-range venues in Dubai.

The hike starts in Cusco — one of Peru’s major cities, where you are advised to arrive at least two days beforehand to acclimatise to the altitude — it stays on 3,400 metres.

The trek begins early in the morning, when a driver collects you from your hotel and takes you to the starting point, roughly three hours from central Cusco. Once you hand over your large bags to the porters, the journey truly begins — and the next time you will see a proper shower or crisp white sheets will be four days later, when you return.

Most days began at around 5 am and wrapped up by 4 or 5 pm, as the guides prefer everyone to be in their tents before sunset. Throughout the day there are several official breaks of about 15–20 minutes, plus one longer stop of around an hour for lunch. If you need to catch your breath for a few minutes during the hike, that is completely fine too.

The first day is fairly gentle — about eight hours of walking, with no dramatic altitude changes. The second day is the most physically demanding: 1,000 metres up (around five hours), followed by 1,000 metres down. In total, about eight to nine hours of hiking. The third day is the longest — almost 12 hours on the trail, though without major altitude shifts (roughly 500 metres up and down). And the fourth, final day is easy in terms of distance, with the only real challenge being the 3 am wake-up.

Yes, but nothing too dramatic. Thanks to the altitude-sickness pills, we only had mild symptoms — a light headache, a bit of dizziness, and general tiredness. The tablets have different names in different countries, and our guide simply told us to grab the local version.

They did help, although they came with two annoying side effects: strong tingling in the hands and legs, and noticeable dehydration. But honestly, these are small things compared with feeling dizzy halfway through the trail — especially when turning back isn’t really an option — once you reach the 4,200-metre peak on day two, you are committed. Even if you decide to head back, it is still a two-day hike to return.

The food was honestly the most surprising part for me. When you picture a multi-day hike, the last thing you expect is a three-course meal — with delicacies like banana pancakes for breakfast, hot soup for lunch, and roasted chicken with several salads and even a dessert for dinner. But that is exactly what we had.

The second shock was realising how all of this was prepared. To make sure we had warm, proper meals, the porters carried a full cooking setup — including a small gas stove. I have no idea how much it actually weighed, but it looked quite massive.

Two things, really. First, the third day — and that particular kind of tiredness that settles deep in your body. It is that moment when you are standing at the foot of a staircase that feels endless, your guide says there is only an hour and a half of uphill left (only!), and you are convinced you can’t take another step. It is the sort of moment where crying feels like the most reasonable option. But somehow you keep going — and you realise your body is capable of so much more than you thought.

Second, the lack of showers. After hiking all day, it is the only thing you truly dream of. Four days without one are manageable, and wet wipes do help, but you really do start longing for a proper wash.

Somewhere in the middle of the trek, I realised I was thinking only about the rhythm of the journey itself — the number of steps ahead, the way the landscape shifted, the small details you notice when you are fully present. Each night, lying in the tent, there was this subtle hum — the sound of true silence, something I hadn’t heard for a long time. It was an incredible feeling, being completely switched off from the world.

And then, of course, the atmosphere. The Inca Trail was breathtaking from start to finish, and when we finally reached Machu Picchu, it didn’t feel like a postcard image at all. It felt like a reward — something we had been walking towards for days, and something we truly earned.

Mountains have this strange ability to exhaust and recharge you at the same time. And while I definitely feel like I need a proper break from them (at least for half a year), I have to admit something: even though each of us swore “never again” in the middle of the trail, we have already started looking up mountain routes in Africa and Japan.