They say one picture can be worth one thousand words, and up until this point I believed it was true. But as I stood upon that great hill, engulfed in wondrous nature and timeless history, I thought to myself that if a picture is truly worth only one thousand words, than a even a million pictures could not do justice to the scene before my eyes.
Our adventure began with breakfast at the wee hour of 4:45 a.m. Forty-five minutes later we were lined up along the streets, tickets in hand, waiting to load the buses that would take us to Machu Picchu. Hundreds of people were waiting in line with us, just as eager and just as tired. The line we waited in was moving faster than the sun was rising and we were lucky to have made it onto a bus shortly after entering the line. The bus ride was an adventure in and of itself and of the thirty minutes that it took to get to the top, I had visions of dying a terrible death during every single one of them. The roads were nothing but packed dirt and loose pebbles that snaked sharply on the side of the steep hill like neglected vines overtaking a home. The American mind is inclined to believe that there would be room for only one bus on the road at a time, however the Peruvian mind is inclined to think otherwise. We passed multiple other buses on our bumpy journey to the top, each time praying we would scrape by without tipping over the sheer edge. By the time we reached our destination at the top, we were met with a rush of relief. Our adrenaline levels were soaring higher than the altitude as we waited in line to enter one of the world wonders. As we walked through the gates, hearts racing and minds excited, it took only seconds to understand why this is in fact a wonder of the world.
The morning sun was still hiding behind the towering mountains waiting to make its debut for the day’s new crowd of tourists. Waiting for the sun’s arrival, the ruins were faintly lit by a light dusk but was clouded by the morning mist. The mist hung around the valley and the ruins while it encircled the peaks, providing an extra dampness to the already humid climate. We walked briskly through the ancient, hilltop town and made friends with some of the llamas on our way to the other side. At the other side it was time to wait in line again for our entrance to the main event, our hike to Huaynapicchu. While we waited for our turn to pass through the gate, we were accompanied by many others as well as the rising sun. Waiting in lines has never been as peaceful and beautiful as this was. We watched anxiously as we could see the tiny rays creep over the top of the giant, rigid hills and expand every second. A few minutes later the whole valley of Machu Picchu, was fully illuminated by the white-hot rays of the sun and it felt as if the real action of our day could begin. Shortly after the arrival of light, we were able to begin our journey to the top of the main peak and we set off excitedly. Hiking to the top required much concentration as it was incredibly steep. The side of the hill was laced with an uneven and decaying staircase that weaved its way along the outer shell of the mountain. With each step you could feel the burn in your calves and thighs, but knowing that each step was bringing you closer to the top made the burning sensation worth it. At any given moment you could not only stop to take in a breath, but also to take in an impeccable view of gigantic, skeletal mountains surrounding and protecting the heart of the valley, one of the world’s breathtaking wonders. With every step closer to the top, the beauty and wonder were only compounded. When we had finally lunged our way to the top it was only to discover that the top was quite literally just a pile of rocks being held together at the peak by invisible forces. With one wrong move one could easily find the quickest way back to the bottom. Up there on what felt like the top of the world, we sat on the edge of rocks and enjoyed a scene that would seem impossible if not right in front of our eyes. To call it breathtaking seems harshly inadequate because of the intricacy of God’s creation but also because of the high altitude.
Our journey back down the mountain gave new light to the phrase, “it’s all downhill from here.” Physically it was obviously all downhill but metaphorically it seemed that nothing could trump the view our eyes had just been blessed with. Almost halfway down I stopped at some ruins that looked as if they could have been an ancient home. It was small and humble and falling apart, but the view from the window beheld a priceless overlook of Machu Picchu. Machu Picchu is a fairly large civilization but from this high up it was merely the size of my palm. Looking down on that wondrous culture I was looking forward to getting back down there to immerse myself in the history and the view I had enjoyed from the top. We continued crawling back down the mountain and into the city of the Incas, this time illuminated by the afternoon sun and free from the morning mist. The afternoon was spent immersed in Incan culture and stunning beauty. Words and pictures can never be enough to fully describe the events and grandeur of that day. Just in case, in an effort to help you see the beauty, in conjunction with a few pictures, here are my one thousand words.
