Having made our way to the former capital of the Inca Empire, at Cusco, high up in the Peruvian Andes, Gemma and I made our way to the mystical mountain-top city of Machu Picchu. We had decided to take part in a 2-day/1-night excursion to the ruins, and not to take part in the Inca trail, due to 1) having to book it approximately 4 months in advance; and 2) January is the rainy season (as we would find out!) and the trail can be treacherous to say the least.
So we headed off with around 20 others at 8am in the morning bound for the Incas Sacred Valley (the route of the Rio Urabamba river which passes below Machu Picchu), and our bus lurched up the hills of Cusco and onward towards the towns of Urabamba and Ollyantambo, both situated deep down in the Sacred Valley. We arrived in Ollyantambo mid-morning to find a small traditional Peruvian town full of colourfully clothed locals, and equally colourful tourists buying second-hand walking sticks, snacks, and crazy hats for the myriad of routes that would culminate at the site of Machu Picchu. As we dropped down towards Ollyantambo along the steep sides of the Sacred Valley, we could see glaciers high up in the surrounding mountains, and the rising clouds added to the atmospheric thoughts of the Incas making their way through the valley.
Following our brief stop in Ollyantambo we climbed hundreds of metres along a winding mountain road, before dropping down the other side towards the lowland jungle of the area. Soon the cold draught coming through the minibus windows was replaced by a humid breeze, and the sounds of birds tweeting away in the sunshine. We passed through a couple of small jungle settlements before crossing the Rio Urabamba, swelled and raging due to the rain at high altitude. What followed was an hour of the most frightening driving I have ever experienced, as we made our way to the mountainside town of Santa Theresa along a dirt-road carved into the side of the mountain, with sheer drops of over 200 metres to the raging Rio Urabamba, and little room for a single car to pass, let alone two! I barely looked down until we reached Santa Theresa for fear of requiring a new set of boxer shorts!
Alive and well, we rolled into Santa Theresa, a jumping off point for the train that leads to Machu Picchu Pueblo (formerly Aguas Calientes), the small town at the base of Machu Picchu. There are no roads to the town due to the topography of he area, and the train lines from Santa Theresa and Ollyantambo are the only ways of getting to the area by public transport. So we headed for the hydroelectric plant nearby where we would hop on the train.
Chugging from Santa Theresa to Machu Picchu Pueblo
When we arrived at the train, there were clearly too many people to fit onto the three small carriages waiting patiently on the track. So what followed was a free for all biundle for the train, and Gemma and I managed to jump onto the last carriage (knocking some Argentinians out of the way in the process!) before the engine chugged into action and we made our way up the side of the mountain. We began to pass through dense jungle, punctuated by the gushing sounds of the Rio Urabamaba, before arriving in Machu Picchu Pueblo around 30 minutes later. From here we would climb to Machu Picchu the following morning.
DAY TWO
We awoke at 4am this momrning to head up to Machu Picchu. It was of course, pitch black, and we headed down through the deserted streets of Machu Picchu Peublo armed with our waterproof jackets, snacks, and camera, ready for a steep ascent to Machu Picchu itself. There was a steady stream of tourists looking weary, all heading along the banks of the Rio Urabamba lit up intermittently by head torches, and we all made our way across the bridge and the start of the climb.
In short, the climb was strenuous, up 1731 steps (counted by a male American model we met) and due to the altitude (2,060 up to 2,430 metres) our breathing was made harder. As we began, the heavens opened and for the 1 hour and 15 minutes we were climbing, the Incas deposited most of the Rio Urabamba on us!! We had to have plenty of rests to catch our breath in the thin atmosphere as we climbed, and the rain began to ease as we passed above the cloud.
We arrived at the entrance to Machu Picchu very wet, and were greeted by a large group of equally wet and tired looking walkers. Then the smug wimps that had caught the bus arrived!! It was fine though, and we passed through the gates and into Machu Picchu at 7am, just as the rain began to stop, the clouds rose from the valley below to make the atmosphere of the place as mystical and dreamy as possible, and mountain peaks began to poke out from the mist in the valley.
The mist begins to rise above Machu Picchu…
We met with our excellent guide, John (he was Peruvian so I doubt this was his real name!), and as we turned a corner we were struck by the majesty of Machu Picchu. It was an incredible sight, particularly as the mist was passing over the ruins like a thin veil revealing its secrets, and we were soon passing over the large southern agricultural terraces, in awe of the spectacle before us.
An awesome backdrop at Machu Picchu
We passed through the Temple of the Sun, a huge room built around a large boulder with stone blocks weighing several tonnes (how did they move them!?), and John explained that the Incas would not move parts of the mountain that they worshipped as their god. Everywhere, 3 steps could be seen, reflecting the upper, middle, and lower worlds (the Condor, Puma, and Snake), and we passed through an area thought to have been a palace for the royal Inca. There are too many areas of interest to list, and so I will let the photos do the talking, but as the morning passed the sun came out to light up the area. An awesome sight.
The Three Windows
We spent approximately 4 hours up at Machu Picchu, attempting to take in the amazing sighting of a city that was never discovered by the Spanish conquerors, and were shown rooms where sacrifices of llamas would have been made, as well as the main square where the Inca royalty would have addressed his subjects. The surrounding landscape was incredibly dramatic, with the peak of Wayna Picchu rising immediately above the city, and the steep drop down into the Urabamba valley and up to even higher peaks almost touching distance away.
One of the most awe-inspiring experiences of my life…
Agricultural terraces
A boyhood dream fulfilled…






Valparaiso, the navy headquarters of Chile built on several leg breaking hills or ‘Cerros’. The city was unique for its many funicular railways, ferrying workers, tourists, and schoolchildren up the many hills back to their homes. The city really did feel like one of two very differing areas. The flat ‘El Plan’ area beside the sea, with people buzzing around and home of all the commercial activities, and the Cerros. As soon as we boarded he tiny boxes used by the funiculars and were let out a minute or so later at the top of whichever hill we had decided to visit, the atmosphere changed almost instantly to a mor relaxed vibe. It was very strange to be so close to all the activity of the city and yet be far away.












