Machu Picchu

Going to Machu Picchu is a pilgrimmage, of sorts; one guidebook states that nearly nine out of ten visitors to Peru make it to Machu Picchu. I kept reading that all the glossy photos of Machu Picchu can't live up to the real thing.

I'll have to agree. Perhaps even more amazing, as I spent more time in Machu Picchu, hiking along various Incan trails, I began to appreciate it in new ways: the intricate stonework, the careful terracing of the mountains, the integration of manmade architecture into the natural landscape.

Most people are surprised to find out that the Incan site was "discovered" in 1911, quite recent, really. What I find more amazing is that the Spanish never got to it during centuries of colonialism. The American archaeologist who discovered Machu Picchu, Hiram Bingham, apparently had all these fantastical ideas that it was the lost city of the Incas, that it was where the Incans fled to when the Spanish defeated them. He thought all sorts of virgin sacrifices and things took place; now, most archaeologists agree that the site was simply a summer retreat for Incan royalty.

I should say that this past week I was very lucky to have two visitors from home come visit me: two friends from high school (actually, long before that), Kailin and Carl -- who are now slaving away at the Federal Reserve Banks in New York and Boston, respectively (but with incomes far larger than any grant from a fellowship institution). Given their short time here, it seemed to make perfect sense to make our peregrination to Machu Picchu this week.

We took various public buses from Cusco to Ollantaytambo, the last town accessible by public roads before Machu Picchu, and then the backpacker train from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes, the town just below the heights of Machu Picchu.

We woke up early to watch the sunrise on Machu Picchu, but could hardly enjoy it in the mass of fog and the scramble among the other tourists for the best view. Surprisingly, we were among the first 400 tourists to arrive there that day (which gives you an idea of the thousands of tourists that arrive there everyday), which meant that we got passes to climb Huayna Picchu, that big mountain in the background of all the Machu Picchu photos. The park has realized that the thousands of tourists are causing quite a bit of erosion, so they only allow the first 400 people onto Huayna Picchu.


Huayna Picchu is that big thing in the background. Admittedly, this photo was taken just before the park closed at 5:30 pm, because the mountain was completely obscured at sunrise. Witness:



The big story of the climb was that Carl got massively dehydrated on the climb to Huayna Picchu. In my excitement, I told Kailin and Carl they got each have a third of my liter of water, after both had finished their 750ml of water -- instead of going back to the entrance and buying $3 bottles of water (normally it costs about $0.30... everything in Machu Picchu is about 10 times the price it should be). At any rate, we made it and took glorious photos of our summit.


Carl is in the middle, obviously too dehydrated for a real smile. I felt like taking off my shoes at the summit.

Although the view from Huayna Picchu wasn't the most beautiful, it gave a completely different perspective of Machu Picchu. The integration of Machu Picchu's architecture into the mountain landscape came into full relief.


The sweaty author and Machu Picchu in the background. The smaller peak is in the lower right of the photo. I have to say, I think I must be in some of the best shape of my life, I feel great climbing at over 3,000 meters. It's all downhill from here.

Since the sunrise was a little disappointing, I took photos of llamas instead.



Bye!