The story unfolds slowly as guests walk the hills and the Inca Trail, marvelling at the Incas’ masterful grasp of agriculture and stone masonry. Intact military and religious buildings stand as testaments to their huge multicultural empire, which at one time covered more than a third of South America and united millions of people from different ethnic groups until the Spanish arrived in 1532.  

Built at the entrance to a gorge, Pisac was both a military post and a ceremonial centre, with terraced irrigation fields cut into the hills and a citadel at the top, along with water channels, ancient burial sites and a ceremonial bathing complex. We take the long route – of course – through each of six sections of ruins, clambering up and down narrow staircases and squeezing through rock tunnels, huffing and puffing as we climb to nearly 3,000 metres elevation. When our guide points out that builders used to scurry along these footpaths carrying huge boulders for construction, I wonder how long I would have lasted in the Inca Empire.

By day’s end, I feel like I’ve run a marathon and am ready for the third pillar of the Explora experience, what they call “essential luxury:” rest and relaxation in minimal but high-end surroundings.

To get to the Explora hotel, we turn off the valley’s main road and follow the Urubumba river uphill, past adobe huts, flowering cactus plants and eucalyptus trees. The red earth road narrows to a bumpy one-lane pathway and the van lurches along until I begin to wonder if there is a hotel.

Suddenly, we arrive on a beautiful plateau planted with potatoes, corn and quinoa and overlooking the spectacular Vilcabamba mountain range.

It took Explora 10 years to build their 50-room property, situated on a 32-hectare former hacienda. While digging the foundations, construction workers unearthed several Inca agricultural terraces, as well as part of a Spanish colonial home, which now houses a gracious spa and herb garden. “We had to work with three archeologists and are still restoring more Inca walls by hand as they would have done,” says Jose Rosenberg, the hotel’s affable manager. “Our hotel is inspired by the mountains.” 

The property consists of five low-slung buildings connected by wooden ramps. The design is sparse, all exposed beams, vaulted ceilings, and polished floors. It is a television-free zone, with Wi-Fi only in the lobby. Outdoor fireplaces beckon guests to take in the bracing views. An onsite restaurant features a well-stocked bar and offers fusion food including soups, ceviche, lamb chops and fish. 

After dinner, Explora guides gather in the bar and individually customize each guest’s next-day adventure. A 10-kilometre hike at high altitude? A visit to an archeological site by van? Flying down a mountain on a dirt bike? Or perhaps just chilling in the spa, watching the corn grow. 

“We are not a trekking company,” says Rosenberg. “We’re more like an exploration company that aims to show people the history of this area. We also believe the magic happens in the mountains and like to get people as high up as possible.” 

The guides size me up and decide I’m not quite ready for the big hike at 4,300 metres. Instead I choose Ollantaytambo, a living Inca village at the northern end of the Sacred Valley. Walking its cobblestone streets the next morning, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time 500 years. Farmers till their fields with foot ploughs; women use hand looms to weave their textiles. Looming above it all is an unfinished fortress with piedras cansadas (discarded rocks) around the Temple of the Sun and old storage sheds.

In the afternoon, I visit Cuper Bajo, a village at 3,600 metres located above another ancient Inca site, Chinchero. There, I meet the delightful Nellie Huarhua, who wears a traditional Quechua ensemble consisting of a full skirt, red sombrero and woven jacket. Nellie heads up the village’s weaving cooperative and is also a star soccer player. She spins baby alpaca wool into yarn, and demonstrates how to dye the wool. Squeezing a white insect found on the prickly pear cactus produces a deep ruby red. Orange comes from citric acid and the bark of a Yanali tree, and brown from special moss. Her weavings tell stories: “When I am angry at my husband, I choose dark colours, and my textiles are green and black,” she says. “When I’m in a good mood, I dance and sing and even kiss my husband.”

She weaves five hours a day, three days a week and it takes her a month to make a single blanket. I could listen to Nellie all day, but have to walk down to Chinchero before the sun sets at 5:40 p.m. or else, my guide tells me, “We may meet the devil in the hills.”