Machu Picchu, Here We Come!

This is the day that all 29 of my new traveling Tauck friends are waiting for. Machu Picchu. I know from the get-go that we are not going to walk the 26-mile Inca Trail, which is how my daughter and son-in-law did it. (Day 2 is alleged to be the worst, where you’re hiking up and down to 12,000 feet.)

We are taking the train. And I am quietly disappointed that we have to make a stop first, at some ancient Inca ruins in a city called Ollantaytambo (oy-yahn-tie-tahm-bo). It’s a massive Inca fortress with large stone terraces on a hillside. 

Shame on me. Turns out it is oldest still-inhabited Inca city, and we learn so much about how and why and where the Incas built their cities. The perfect primer for appreciating Machu Picchu later in the day.

See that line down the middle of the street? It’s an irrigation channel still flowing from the original Inca aqueduct. 

And of course, we walk through the main Square where there is plenty of shopping to be had. Try as I might, I can’t convince Donna to buy this hat. 

And here we are posing before the steep steps and terraced “layers.” Our group is going climb to the fifth terrace and reconnoiter to learn more from our local guide. (Not to mention gulp water, pant, gasp and wait for our hearts to stop pounding out of our chests like a Looney Toon cartoon character.)

Did I mention steep?

How embarrassed am I to learn that Ollantaytambo is the most popular train station to embark on the Machu Picchu journey?

Very.

In fact, most porters that accompany the hikers live here. Mile marker 82 is the stop for the hikers. We are taking the train “all the way.” At least as far as the public bus station at the end of the line. Then we board a bus and wind our way to the entry point.

Spoiled rotten. We disembark the public bus at the entry gate to Machu Picchu. Entry to the park is limited and by appointment only, and our entry window is between 2 and 3 pm. We have 45 minutes to kill, so we check in to our rooms at, yes, The Sanctuary Lodge.

And then we are there. We hike a short while on switch backs, including a small section of the Inca trail, and after a steep climb up steps, we arrive at a terrace.

And there she is. Machu Picchu. Old Mountain in the Incan language of Quechua.

Those red lanyards and “badges” around our neck identify us as authorized to be on Circuit 2, which is the upper area of the Park. We are able to go lower, and we do, but the sun is setting and to go any lower requires a new reservation and appointment.

Llamas roam freely. In that we are there as dusk approaches, the llamas are ready to gather for the night. We are exploring the “residential” area when a herd of about 20 llamas drop in for Happy Hour.

See that anachronistic greenish blue contraption in the photo above? That’s where the llamas all nestle together for the night. Around it. Not in it.

That night, the conversations are filled with awe and wonder. Egad. That sounds so trite. But we all experienced something unique, and we shared it freely with people we’ve only known for a few days.

In a very different way, but yet still the same, I am reminded how Donna and I felt connected to the throngs of people who had completed the Camino de Santiago in Spain. It doesn’t matter who you are, how far you walked or where you started–you shared something deep inside that connects you no matter what.

That being said…the return train ride the next day is quiet. Until La Banda sets the tone in the “observation car.” What a way to celebrate an amazing accomplishment, no matter how you define it.

Turn up your volume.

If Machu Picchu has been at all on your radar screen or bucket list, we say, as we often do these days…

If not now, when?