Art of Ancient Americas - Machu Picchu

When I was in my senior year of college, I attended a class called “Art of Ancient Americas”. In that class, I learned about Machu Picchu and it has been on my bucket list ever since. It was a sweet thing to experience it on my own and fulfill that goal to see such a beautiful and significant place. Little did I know, Peru had so much more to offer me than just one incredible and popular ruin.

After hiking close to 40 miles in a span of 6 days, I had come to appreciate the pilgrimage of the Incan people. I cheated and had a train, van, or bus, help me get to Machu Picchu, but even a taste of their journey provided a deeper immersion than I anticipated. It surprised me how overwhelmed I was when I arrived. I hadn’t been around many people those 6 days of trekking and suddenly, I was in droves being bussed up to the entrance. My overwhelmed nerves were heightened as I realized my pass did not have my legal name. I came so far, and was so worried I wouldn’t make it in because of a typo. Luckily, they only really care about the passport number and I made it through the entrance.

I found myself annoyingly giddy with anticipation as we rounded the corner to what was supposed to be the first great viewpoint only to be extremely disappointed by a shroud of cloud and mist at the top. My dream of seeing Machu Picchu in it's over shared immaculate glory was squashed by clouds. Flashbacks to my trek in Torres del Paine flooded in my head. In Chile, when we got to the top of the hike and could barely see the lake, let alone the towers. We waited in vain for a few minutes, cold, wet, and tired before heading back down the mountain. Now in Peru, I was worried this was going to be a similar experience and I’d never see the full glory of the ruins framed by beautiful Huayna Picchu.
 

Carla patiently pulled us to the side to share the history of this incredible place shrouded in clouds. Maya and Phil listened attentively while I fidgeted like a preteen, glancing over my shoulder every 2 seconds to see if the clouds would lift. Since COVID, the regulations changed and you could only spend 2 hours in the ruins and had to follow a specific path. Of course, no one abided by that regulation and people from earlier entrances were crowding around, waiting to see the clouds lift as well. I eventually decided to let it go, trying to listen to my sweet friend and guide share more stories about this place. Even though I couldn’t see it all, I was still there.
 

As we wove through the ruins, the clouds slowly lifted and it was even more majestic than I could have imagined with the mist cradling the rounded peaks. I finally let myself settle and savor the little time I had in the ruins. I was here, I made it.