Machu Pikachu

Machu Picchu, Peru

I am often of two minds when it comes to visiting monuments of extreme fame. The long lines, tacky souvenir shops, pushy vendors, high prices, and flocks of gringos can be a bit much to bear just for the privilege of viewing some rickety old building. In the case of the Great Wall, the annoyances outweighed the enjoyment. This was not so at the Taj Mahal.

Jason dragged my ass out of bed at around 05:00. We had breakfast and arranged ickets all in time to board a bus to the site by seven. When we arrived, it was still a bit dark, the ruins were covered in intermittent fog, and (most importantly) there were only a comparative handful of other souls around to share the scene.

MP lives up to its reputation as a wonder of the ancient lord. The natural setting alone is worth the climb. It is a very steep mountain some 2000 meters high surrounded on all sides by heavily-vegetated rocky peaks and (almost on all sides) a rushing river far below. The human contribution was once a cluster of maybe 100 stone buildings and dense terracing near the summit. On first sight, I reckon everyone asks themselves the same question: "Why would you build a city here?"
Once past the entrance gate, visitors are generally free to walk among the ruins as they see fit. We opted to avoid guided tours and take things in on our own. It is more fun to infer your own purposes for all the stonework than listen to canned (and probably inaccurate) explanations from someone else.

After a good walk around the site, we took the first of two short hikes. It took us across a small valley and up one of the surrounding peaks by way of steep stone steps laid out in switchbacks. I had to stop a few times to catch my breath. A high-altitude stairmaster really gets the heart going. It rained a bit near and at the top, but we made it up the final steps, through an Inca-hewn tunnel, and to the summit in good time. The reward was a marvelous view back down to the main section of MP that would come and go as the fog blew through the mountains.

After lunch, we did a second hike over to what is left of an Incan bridge. This path was nice and flat but along a sheer drop of maybe 200 meters. The bridge itself was out of commission but we were able to admire the effort it must have taken to construct the thing. The locals built paths and bridges by carefully stacking shaped rocks along mountain ledges. It must have been very difficult and dangerous work. On the way back, we had a nice chat with two soldiers that were guarding apparently nothing.

As we were leaving, the tourist mobs were in full effect. The frustration of the noise and crowds made me fully appreciate the wisdom of our early arrival. We pushed our way through the camera-toting senior citizens from Ohio onto another bus and high-tailed it back to town sharpish. MP is more Taj Mahal than Great Wall (and more Raiders than Temple), but only if you get there in the morning.