This was the big day we’ve been waiting for, so we didn’t even mind another very early morning.  (Well, maybe Zoe and Caroline minded a little bit.  I’ve been unaccountably waking up around 5 every day anyway.)  Machu Picchu, being a remote Inca city on top of a mountain, is not the easiest place to get to.  After a 5:30am breakfast, we headed on the bus to take us to the train to take us to another bus.

The train ride was actually pretty cool.  Trains are pretty cool to start with, and this one wound through mountain passes and tunnels alongside a rushing river.  The train had windows all along the top so you could see the mountains, their tops obscured by wisps of clouds, towering on both sides.  Seats were grouped in sets of four with a table in between, so people could chat or play games.  All in all, a pleasant way to spend an hour and a half.

The train brought us to the bustling village of Machu Picchu Pueblo, full of markets and restaurants along the river, which was crossed by picturesque footbridges.  It was a little like Venice in that the lack of cars meant you’d see lot of people moving things around using large handcarts.  (Unfortunately for them, it was unlike Venice in that it’s very hilly here.  Later, eating lunch on the patio, we watched a succession of poor workers pushing overloaded carts up a steep incline outside.)

From there we had to catch a bus that traveled up the side of the mountain, along a series of terrifying switchbacks.  This was somewhat less pleasant than the train, though of course the views were spectacular.  Luckily our bus made it to the top without falling off the side of the mountain.

At the end, a short hike up to the top led us to the iconic Machu Picchu view that you always see photos of.  It was amazing, but Zoe and I agreed it had a strange Disney-like quality because it hadn’t required much physical labor to get here (although at this altitude even short uphill hikes have us gasping) and because there were SO MANY PEOPLE.  All our travels had taken almost four hours, and so we’d arrived at a pretty peak time.

Christine, our local organizer who’s done this a few times, herded us away from the crowds and onto a hiking trail to the Sun Gate.  This immediately took us away from the

throngs and we were better able to appreciate the stunning scenery.  The Sun Gate was the original Inca entrance to Machu Picchu, and the trek is along the original Inca trail.  It’s amazing to think of the effort that was involved in constructing this place and the foot trails that cross the entire region.  The Spanish never conquered Machu Picchu, because of its inaccessibility.

 

The hike was incredible — gorgeous views around every corner.  We had to stop frequently to catch our breath and take photos.  (Zoe’s cross country and track training served her well here, as she was generally zooming up the mountain while the rest of us panted behind her.)  We took our time getting there and then spent

some time sitting at the ruins of the Sun Gate itself, imagining arriving here from the original trail and emerging to behold the sacred city.

 

 

Once we headed back down, the crowds had thinned somewhat and we descended into the ruins.  The Inca had amazing construction skills — modern scientists still don’t understand how they were able to build what they did using the tools that they had.  (One of the local stories is that they were helped

by aliens.  Another theory is that they figured out how to turn rock liquid.)  Their astronomical knowledge was way ahead of the Europeans, and their building sites are precisely aligned with the directions of the compass and/or the path of the sun.  All that knowledge was wiped out when all the leaders were indiscriminately slaughtered by the Spanish.

 

 

 

 

On our way to the train Van had told us about an alternate route back down to Machu Picchu Pueblo — the original Inca steps set in the side of the mountain.  Mainly at Zoe’s urging, a group of six of us decided to try it.  Zoe and I, Ann and Shannon, and Tiffany and Ethan set off on foot down the trail, leaving the others to take the bus.

It was a cool experience following the path of the Inca, although tough on the legs and knees.  I don’t even know how many steps it was, but some very large number.  (It’s now three days later and my calves are still aching.)  Given that they were constructed of somewhat uneven stone, it was a tough trek, but we had a great sense of victory when we finally landed alongside the river.  (It was somewhat dampened when we realized we then had a

mile-long walk back to town, but it was flat and lovely, along the rushing whitewater of the river.)

The weather is interesting here.  The temperature itself is not very high — highs in the sixties, much colder in the mornings and evenings — but being as high as we are, the sun is very strong.  So when it’s out, we’re stripping layers and sweating (and for some in our group, getting sunburns), and when it dips behind the cloud or starts to set, we shiver and the layers come back on.  On the walk back a light, misty rain was intermittently falling.

Back in town we had a late lunch, did a little shopping and exploring, and then repeated the morning’s transportation in reverse.  By the time we arrived back, no one was interested in dinner — just showers and bed.