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Still in the clouds |
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Inca stairs |
Everything you have ever heard about Machu Picchu is true. It is intense, momentous, and awe inspiring.
We caught the Peru Rail train up on Boxing Day and spent a quite depressing night in the hideous town of Aguas Calientes which sits at the base of the ridiculously tall mountains that hide Machu Picchu.
At 5.30am we set off for the infamous Inca seat of power and at 6am as the sun rose through the clouds, we stood in utter speechless awe and watched the city unfold beneath us. The single most important piece of advice we can give anyone wanting to go, is get there as early as humanly possible. To be standing there in the mist with no sound, no other person in sight apart from the odd llama, it is just beautiful.
At 7.30 we set off to climb Huayna Picchu, the uncompromising mountain that looms 360m above Machu Picchu. It was tough, far harder than Colca Canyon. Inca stairs are hard work, carved out of cliff faces, horribly slippery and cutting steep paths straight uphill. But getting up was easy compared with actually being on the top. Once there I belated realised that we were standing on the tiny tip of the mountain, surrounded by abysses on all sides. I froze. I was no longer interested in the breath taking views. I did not want to be there anymore. It took half an hour of painfully slow backwards climbing to get down to a level I was comfortable with. G tried her damndest to get me to stand on the edge for spectacular photos. I was having none of it.
Once on the somewhat more solid ground of Machu Picchu we were ridiculously pleased we had arrived so much earlier. The crowds had arrived. The sound was the most unnerving, a white noise of voices shouting across the city. It was not possible to get a single view without masses of people in the background. It was like a different place. Snaking processions of tourists following the raised umbrellas of guides at every turn. Go early!
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Huayna Picchu in all its terrifying glory |