4th January 2025

3:15am and we’re up. We had packed and grabbed a bread roll which we hastily buttered and filled with jam to eat on the move. We reached the bridge leaving Aguas Calientes for 4:30am to find other disappointed hikers unable to pass the gates until 5am. No one had informed us of this. There was some anxiety at this stage, the Machu Picchu website says it takes 1.5-2 hours to climb up but we would only have an hour until our designated entry time of 6am. We sat on a bench and made friends with the local dogs and soon the whole group were sat together laughing at our collective keenness.

Once open, we crossed a rope bridge and began our dark jungle ascent. The lack of light made this a very atmospheric start to the hike, welcomed by the sound of unknown animals rustling about the dense vegetation. The path was a series of steep switch backs made up of slippery stone steps. In the darkness and under the thick jungle canopy we were unable to see how far the path extended making it feel like a humid workout on a Stair Master.

We reached the entry for Machu Picchu for 05:58am, only just making it inside the hour. We all sat on a stone step in front of the official entrance dripping in sweat, fatigued by the hike but also feeling excited anticipation in what we were about to see, knowing now that daylight had shown itself and that we would see Machu Picchu in perfect visibility despite it being the rainy season.

It didn’t feel real. Machu Picchu is such a heavily idolised place, images of which regularly grace my screen when scrolling through social media. I almost felt like I had already been here, that I knew this place simply through others and its fame. What social media fails to capture is the beauty and hostility of the mountains that surround it. Jungle-covered, thin, curved topped mountains surround the Inca site, none of which seem a likely place to host a city. 

Machu Picchu is built on top of an intersection of two tectonic fault lines making it seismically unstable. Amazingly, the thing that makes Machu Picchu so dangerous is the same thing which made the site appealing to the Incas. The city was built here due to the natural spring which provided water to the city and an abundance of granite which was used to build it. It amazes me that despite frequent subjections to earthquakes the city’s foundations have endured for all these years. We discovered that a large part of the city’s distinctive appearance is associated with seismic-resistant building, including the staggered terraces, precisely built stones walls that tilt at an angle, and the trapezoidal shaped doors. 

Another thing that threw me is that no one knows the true name of the city. Machu Picchu is the name of the mountain overlooking the citadel but as there are no records and no Incas left to ask, the official city name is not known. Machu Picchu Mountain is the largest mountain overlooking the citadel and the one I decided to hike.

I parted from the company of Dan to begin my climb to summit Machu Picchu Mountain. This is a 2km trail up and another 2km down made up of irregular Inca stone steps. The ascent is 600 meters, with an incline of up to 60°. Many parts of the stairs are exposed, the path thin with vertigo-inducing vertical drops as the path edges its way around the mountain. Having walked behind a tour guide for the last three days and now walking on my own, I was excited to be able to set my own pace again. I stormed off up the steps and will admit it was a tough climb, my legs shaking unknown whether from physical effort or my fear of heights. It was worth every step though. I was above all the mountains within close proximity to the citadel, which looked tiny and lost in the mountains from this perspective. This was also a view of Machu Picchu I had not seen on social media and felt unique to me.

I ran down the steps (not quite literally, they were very steep!). I walked out of Machu Picchu and straight away descended down the path we followed up this morning, leaving behind the now heavily congested entrance. As I reached the bottom and crossed the Inca bridge, muddy water churning so quickly it frothed white and roared with the force, a flock of green parrots flew over my head squawking noisily. I stopped to watch them taking it as farewell from the mountains. 

I joined Dan in a pre-planned meeting spot: a cafe on the main street. He had just finished half a chocolate cake and I was more than happy to help assist in the effort to finish it. We caught each other up on the day and were unexpectedly joined by a couple we had spent the last three days with and together we took up one side of the cafe ordering an array of calorie heavy drinks and dishes. We sat beaming, flooded in a sense of achievement and thrill of having good visibility for when it counted! 

At 2pm we boarded the train to Ollantaytambo, and once there a minivan back to Cusco. We found a restaurant close to town and with our packs and the stench of the day still on us, feasted on the best meal we had had in days.

On the way back to the hostel we stopped by a cafe with some handsome looking croissants. The chocolate one looked particularly good and was almost as big as my head. I ordered one and devoured it on the bed back at the hostel absorbed in the delisiousness of it. I had lost a lot of weight. As part of a plan to increase my calories we stopped by this cafe each night until we left Cusco, always ordering a large chocolate croissant.