Yesterday morning, bright and early, I left with my tour group to catch a 4 hour train ride the the famous Machu Picchu. The ride there took us through some not so clean areas, as you could see trash piled up alongside the road, but the further we traveled the more breathtaking the sights became. The locals came out to meet our trains, most were dressed in traditional garb hoping for a photo opportunity and an expression of gratuity from us tourists. They also set up shop alongside the roads as the train made a handful of stops for passengers to stretch, buy some choclo (corn) with cheese, and some mate de coca. Some of us yelled outside to the vendors for their wonderful offers of Peruvian favorites with an exchange of money through the small windows of the train. The higher in altitude we got the more my waterbottle deflated and I could feel my breath become more labored. I have to admit, I was distracted by the sights so it wasn´t until we got off the 20 min bus ride up to Machu Picchu did I realize that I wasn´t in Kansas anymore. I mean, I´ve seen mountains, but never traveled up one- a completely different experience!

The 20 min ride up by bus winded around the mountain and with each lap we were met by small children dressed in bright traditional clothes waving happily to the cameras in the bus. Once we arrived at the entrance for Machu Picchu my concept of the word beautiful changed. Never have I seen something so breath-taking in my life, it was a new religion for me. My eyes just welled up with tears as I couldn´t find the words to express how I felt. When the tour guide suggested holding off on taking pictures as the sights at the top were even better, I couldn´t wait to start climbing. In front of me there a cute little Peruvian couple in their late 70s, at least, climbing the intense trail, I was impressed, they only stopped once as they were hellbound and determined to get to the top. I, on the other hand, started my old sprinter breathing techniques as the air was so thin that I could feel my head get light the further we climbed. BUT, once at the top, the views were, as the guide pointed out, even more awesome. It was just like Oia in Greece, didn´t matter where you pointed your camera, you couldn´t take a bad picture.

Me and my travel buddies, Mario, Henry, Martin (Pollo con botas), and Alex took turns taking pictures of each other as we posed in front of the breath-taking background. We walked around for hours and saw what the Incas built and the Spaniards tore down. I didn´t realize until later that Yale University was responsible for the reseach and aid in helping the Inca people recover their original ruins. Apparently, there were also two wealthy familes that put forth the finances to reconstruct and maintain the “old mountain”, the actual meaning of the word Machu Picchu. There are several mountains that make up Machu Picchu and all have wonderful and difficult Indian Inca names that I´m not even going begin to try to pronounce. At the base of the mountain there are temples that the Incas built to worship the sun and the moon and in their practice of worship, sacificial offerings were often made on top of or in front of the stones that compose the temples. The grounds are well maintained and many native Incas are dispersed around the mountain to ensure that us touristicas don´t get too crazy!

The pictures that I have may do some justice to the awesome experience that I had when I was there, but I have to admit, the only way to truly comprehend it´s beauty is to experience it for yourself.

Once the group boarded the train we arrived back in Cusco around 8pm and made plans to go out for dinner at 1030. We had a nice dinner and went out for dancing and drinks- it was a blast!