Machu Picchu

I apologize in advance for this rather long blog post, but Machu Picchu deserves it if anywhere does.

December 15, 2011

Every time I visit a ruin or an ancient place, I get a strange feeling that I can't really describe.  I think it's something about being in a place built with ancient hands, walking on streets built hundreds or thousands of years ago that have held up the feet of kings and common people alike.

My first experience with that feeling was when my Dad took me to San Francisco for my 17th birthday and we visited Alcatraz.  It was the first place that I could really remember being after it was no longer in use.  I whispered to my Dad that I was standing right where Al Capone could have stood!  He told me that I could probably choose more worthwhile heroes.  Perhaps, but that was beside the point.  Someone famous (and dead) had stood right where I was standing and I had a sense of connection with the past.

We woke up at 4:30 am to make sure we had plenty of time to eat breakfast, get ready and get to the bus station for the 5:30 bus up the hill to Machu Picchu.  It was pissing down rain (sorry for using the word pissing Mom, but there really is no other way to describe it).  We could hear it pounding on the tin roof over our heads and we looked at each other in angst, neither one of us wanting to say what the other was thinking.  We were going to see nothing.

We rode the bus up in silence.  The rain had lightened a little while we ate breakfast, but there were still clouds everywhere and certainly no signs of being able to see anything if we made the trek up Huyana Picchu - an hour (okay, more like two hours for me) trek up the side of the mountain that you can see in all the pictures, on ancient Inca steps that are both narrow and deep.  I had been dreading doing it for a second time anyway (I did it 5 years ago on my first visit) and the thought of having to do it with no reward at the top was only making it worse.

One thing to remember about the clouds at Machu Picchu is that they are less like clouds and more like a thick mist or fog.  It moves in and out of your field of vision in seconds and if you're not paying attention you might miss something.  Our first moments at the site were incredible.  We could see nothing when we entered other than the wall in front of us.  As we came around the corner, the mist teased us by lightening momentarily enough for us to see the city through a haze.

Machu Picchu in the morning

Everyone has seen pictures of Machu Picchu -  more often than not, of it on a clear day.  A picture of a perfectly clear day does not even come close to the feeling of being there, even on a mist covered day.  the second we stepped through the gate, I had the familiar feeling of connection that I've felt since my first visit to Alcatraz.  Some people would call it a spiritual feeling, and for lack of a better description I would have to agree.  We wandered the city for the next hour, getting pictures whenever the fog cleared enough, juggling camera equipment, umbrellas and the S/5 poncho we bought for Nando as we climbed on the bus, in an attempt to keep the water off of the camera.

We had decided to try the hike up Huayna Picchu despite the possibility of not seeing anything when we got to the top.  I had forgotten what an absolutely amazing site is at the top of the climb, whether you ever see the city below you or not.  When we got to the top, we had emerged above the clouds and as they moved in and out of the valley below us, we could see for miles in every direction in addition to the thousands of meters between us and the valley floor where the river snaked it's way between the mountain peaks that were surrounding us.

We climbed through the city that is built on top of Huyana Picchu (how did they manage to build that?!) and made our way to the peak of the mountain to eat lunch and hopefully catch a glimpse of the city below.  Patience (not one of my many traits) at Machu Picchu, more often than not will pay off.  As we sat there eating our lunch, the fog parted and the city lay there in front of us, begging for the use of our new telephoto lens.  After snapping hundreds if not thousands of photos, we headed back down through the rock tunnels to get back to the city.  Let me just tell you - down is NOT easier than up.  My legs have been hurting since and I'm writing this 4 days after we left.

Inca Bridge

After an hour or so break - trying to wait out the rain that had started again we decided to try and make the trek up to where everyone takes the postcard picture from to see if we could get lucky enough to have the clouds clear twice in one day.  By the time we got up there, it had stopped raining, but the clouds were still out.  We saw the signs for the Inca Bridge and decided to try and see that while we waited.  The hike out is beautiful but a little nerve wracking since it's right along the edge of a cliff with a never ending drop off as far as I could tell.  I really didn't get close enough to see where the end of the fall would be.  Sadly, the bridge itself is sort of anti-climactic compared to what I expected from an Inca bridge, but it was still impressive in it's own right.

At the end of the walk back from the bridge, we saw the top of Huayna Picchu clear and we ran the rest of the way to try and make sure we didn't miss the view.  So. Worth. The burning lungs.  It was absolutely incredible.  The entire city glistening in the sun with the mountain soaring above it.  Truly one of the most phenomenal sights I have ever seen.

After getting gigabytes worth of pictures, we headed back down the mountain to the natural hot springs in town to soothe our aching muscles, finally talking about our fears from the morning about the rain.