Machu Picchu

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My personal Celestine Prophecy of finally visiting Machu Picchu

I always envisioned the very thought of standing high on the peaks of the Andes captured by the spiritual history transcending upon me as my feet carry my soul across terraces through the lost city of the Incas. Since the day I learned about the Machu Picchu during elementary years in world history, as a child I knew, that was a place I needed to fully experience in my lifetime with body, hands, eyes, soul, heart, thoughts, and to accomplish yet another journey on my bucket list.

There is something spectacular about ruins, the shear magnitude of manpower to achieve these modern marvels during the times of ancient wonders. Machu Picchu was one that stood out to me for a particular reason; lost, ancient, elevation, self-sufficient, noble, never found. How could a city be built atop of monstrous peaks two to three thousand meters up? How did they move rocks strategically in place to form this city with only endless hypothesis’ and theories of who actually lived there? Was it all wise men? Priests? Astrologists? Aristocracy? Did slaves build it? How long did it

actually take? How big was the empire? I was in for a life changing experience; an empire once manifesting a civilization of twelve million, ruling for over 135 years to quickly collapsing to the conquistadors in less then a hundred years to the Spaniards who influenced majority of Central and South America today. Yet, this one citadel slept quietly for hundreds of years unknown to the outside world, fascinating.

The trip was planned months ago when I finally had enough money saved up to go on an incredible adventure. I’ve done a lot of traveling in the past ten years; I’d like to think of myself as an avid traveler due to my curiosity of cultural diversity. I read up on Tao, eastern philosophy, some on religion, by no means am I an expert in any field and I definitely cannot say I’ve mastered any type of degree in world knowledge to teach or guide anyone around me, I’m a self-proclaimed certified drifter, student of the world. However, as considered to many as an old soul, I feel that I owe it to mother earth and her off spring of natural evolution of civilization to understand what was created on her exterior body that so many of us take for granted. Sure we live in the present and look forward to the future, been told a certain times to forget about our pasts. However, a past of sacrifice, gods, gold, silver, agriculture, exotic language, rituals, have been passed down by generations through hundreds and thousands of years. Although some have been lost in translation, forgotten, misleading, rediscovered, and drawn out, this city was set in stone thousands of feet in the sky, surrounded by beauty of the perching peaks, and never was worldly discovered until Mr. Bingham was on his journey to find the last standing Inca warrior in hiding only to find an 8th wonder we now know as Machu Picchu.

I went on line one day and searched different links to tour Machu Picchu and found this great travel agency by the name of Yampu. I looked through several other websites and sent emails inquiring about their guided tours and packages they had to offer. Not only were my birthday coming up but my one-year anniversary with my significant other as well, and what better way to spend these two days then to be away on an exotic adventure. We decided to do Costa Rica for a week and then Peru for a week, so a two-week trip was put into planning. Once I sent an email to Yampu, literally the next day I received an email back from the agency telling me about their packaged trips. I went back and forth several days and a couple weeks deciding how I wanted to spend savings, how much, how long, and what does it entail. I decided six days was a decent amount of time, and the package I choose was probably one of the best, if not the best I could get. Traveling can be fun in many ways, and adapting to the situation is only travel etiquette but I wanted to travel a bit in luxury for a few reasons; my significant other I wanted to take, a one-year anniversary and being some-where simply breathless on my birthday.

Initially I wanted Peru to be a surprise trip but my boyfriend (Jeff) had a ticket already bought for Costa Rica that needed to be used so going to Costa Rica first and then on to Peru seemed logical. I told the travel agent our agenda and within a few weeks later, the trip was booked and all we had to do was wait for the tickets in the mail. Jeff kept asking me if I was excited to go, obviously I was more then excited, internally. But my lack of emotional enthusiasm can paint a different picture on the exterior. I guess I believe it should be sustained until you finally plant a foot print to lands a far to show your joy rather then set yourself up with anticipation and over excitement firmly believing that it just prolongs the waiting and traveling period. That’s just me personally. Alas, the tickets came prior to our departure date so skipping past the adventure in Costa Rica, we now engage in the journey of Peru.

We flew out of Costa Rica Sept 7th four o’clock in the afternoon to torrential rains, standing in low season in Central America. It was a three and half-hour flight to Lima and we were to meet with our first guide once we landed to be taken to a hotel for the night. As we ascended into the air at a cruising speed, the guy next to us happen to be an American living in Panama being the same birth sign as I was so we had quite a list of universal traits to mock while Jeff and him talked up business ideas. The flight went by rather quickly and before we knew it, we landed at Lima’s Jorge Chavez International Airport. We met our guide, proceeded to escort us to the hotel across the street, and gave us our itinerary for the next several days. The following morning we caught our 10 am flight to a city 11,000 ft high up in the Andes once known as the capital of South America called Cusco.

For those of you who have been to Cusco via Airbus 320, you know exactly what I’m talking about when it comes to flying over the Andes and into the valley of being just a hair away of nerve wrecking. The Andean mountain range soars so far up into the sky that any passenger would think we are only a mile above the peaks, and I think that’s a good marker of an estimation, plus or minus, give or take a few meters/ft. Descending into the valley is a long tight narrow entry that is definitely wide enough for an Airbus 320 but really, in a bad situation, if the winds and fog decided it was up for having a bad day, there’s no room for error. Then, to actually land into the city, it’s a 90-degree turn to the left to touch down onto the runway and welcome your emotional butt to Cusco. To the pilots, I commend you for all your training and skills having to fly into that on a daily basis.

After we got grabbed our luggage, we met our guide Julio Cesar and his driver right outside and drove to the hotel. He explained to us everything we were doing and basic information about Cusco. Julio was originally from Cusco and all our guides were hereditary descendants of the Incan capital whom I will briefly introduce later. We arrived at our hotel, checked in, had some cocoa tea to prevent any elevation sickness and was told to meet up at 1:30 in the lobby for our first guided tour of the Santo Domingo Museum, The Cathedrals in the main square where the conquistadors built to spread their religious belief of Christian Catholicism, and ending the tour at a holy ceremonial temple atop the inner laying hills of Cusco known as Sacsahuaman (pronounced similarly to ‘sexy woman’). It was a 3-hour, private tour with a guy named Marcial who is a native born and raised in Cusco.

Having never been on a guided tour in majority of my travels I was compelled to take this opportunity to take in all the vast knowledge of the Incan Empire, gaze at the architecture that distinctly put their identity to the top amongst only a handful of other native civilizations during that time. To be so dominate in South America and then to collapse to the Europeans and have their beliefs so intriguing to modern day civilians and archeologists, historians, astronomers, wonderers, so on and so forth. It’s mind boggling just like Stonehenge, Chitchen Izta, The Egyptian Pyramids, Easter Island to name a few as to how they built such a city over time and to this day as much as we may know through recorded research, their identity still lives but their heart slowly breathes, no words to describe the profound feeling I had knowing 70% of their truth is now here say.
It was getting cold in Cusco and we had asked our guide, Marcial, if he knew of a place to buy some clothes as we drove back down into town ending our tour. This was our moment to ask Marcial a few personal questions about himself, where he studied, if he had a girlfriend, ever been to the US, and where he would like to go. He was rather intellectual the way he carried himself, polo sweater, docker shoes, glasses, slim, as I would say, young and strapping. He studied to become an archeologist in college but told us unless you’re on National Geographic and have a team behind you, unfortunately he can’t make good money so he went to study for touring and did it in half the time it takes which is an average of 3 years. He had an Australian girlfriend and said he would love to visit the Grand Canyon one day. Soon after we got back into town and got out of the van, we said our goodbyes to Marcial, thanked him for a great tour, and went our separate ways.

We were told to check out a store called Topitop for some clothing and thank god we did because it was getting very cold and I only brought a very thin button up shirt. Jeff unfortunately had gotten some of his clothes stolen in Costa Rica so he needed a few items to level out our suitcase space since I was obviously looking like I was a diva at this point with all my clothes. We were both pretty chirpy by the coca tea we’ve been drinking all morning and chewing on the leaves throughout the day only made it that much more entertaining watching us shop. After cruising around the town for a while, we headed back to the hotel to freshen up before we went to grab some dinner.

Since it was our first time in Cusco and had a full agenda planned for the rest of the trip, we only had limited time to site see on our own around the center and check out some of the shops, bars, and restaurants. As the sun was setting to the west of mountains, temperature dropped drastically [and keep in mind opposite seasons to us in the states, and not even close to humid like Costa Rica], Jeff and I decided we needed something to warm us up, a drink. We walked over to a dive bar at the corner of the city center to kill time waiting for a restraint to open that we were interested in. We sat at the bar listening to some American music of every genre from Country music to Sublime sipping back a local hangover inducer called Pisco. I tried to stick to the Whiskey shots but was summoned to ‘just taste’ a sip. After a few of this and that, I was warm and chirpy yet again and so was Jeff. We gallivanted our bubbly butts around the fountain for photo ops and blissfully whisked away to a restaurant called Fusion that finally opened for dinner. We were the only ones there and enjoyed a plate of Alpaca Carpaccio, which was absolutely divine, followed by a couple other plates that I can’t recall, but I remembered the Alpaca Carpaccio. Alpaca is a cousin to the Llamas and I apologize to PETA enforcers and animal lovers, but it’s only necessary to eat the local dish to show your appreciation of that culture. Jeff and I ate enough to where we weren’t overly stuffed and set off back to the hotel to prepare for our 4:30am wake up call.

Our pick up guide Julio advised us to bring a small bag onto the train to Machu Picchu due to limited space so we packed our back packs and small carry on for the journey that morning. Luckily breakfast was already prepped and ready to engulf and I’m all about breakfast. At 6:15 am we were picked up and driven to the station outside of Cusco to be thrown into the mix with the rest of eager adventurers onto the PeruRail bound for Machu Picchu. It’s a classy vintage train, blue with yellow trimming and it says, ‘Cusco-Machu Picchu’ just in case you needed to confirm where you were heading. It’s three and half hour train ride cruising at a comfortable speed of 50 mph tops. From Cusco we set out through the mountains dropping elevation through the Sacred Valley, scenically touring the 52 miles to Aguas Calientes where the train stops before boarding a bus to the ancient site. It’s stunning, the views are majestic, the peaks speak in a high pitch voice for you to hear their whispering winds and bewilder their stance in the air. The towns you go cut through or ride along side, the switch back section of the railway was intriguing, I could go on and on, and the food?!?! Definitely posh for such a short journey and two thumbs up for the presentation and service.

Upon our arrival into Aguas Caliente, Jeff and I changed into some cooler clothing since we dropped several thousand feet in elevation and began to feel the heat tickle our skin through the window. As the train slowly approached the station, it was difficult to tell where exactly we were considering the town was so small and narrow nestled tightly between several mountains and the centerfold of glacier water streaming from three different directions. If anyone were to be on the level of high maintenance, claustrophobic by the landscape, or simply a close-minded prude dumb founded by their way of living, Aguas Caliente is not your serene getaway. If you have fear of being trapped by lack of transportation, petrified of mosquito’s, and can’t seem to part ways with the vital life line of the internet, o shuttle service then this is probably not the place for you. For Jeff and I, we were ready to live it up. Mind you, when I book the trip I knew our hotel was on the ‘higher’ end of the hotel options, I did research online for photos of the grounds and fell in love with it instantly that I requested another day, but I would of done it any which way. Fortunately however, we did manage to book one of the nicest places to stay at called the Inkaterra and it was simply by the photos on line that captured my heart to manifest my dearest dream to visit Peru and see the ancient city just above this bustling town.

We were taken to the hotel by a guy a couple years younger then I am who grew up in the town, I can’t recall his name but he escorted us to our hotel where we were greeted by hotel staff and given some information. We were told to meet our guide, Fabrizio at Machu Picchu at 12:10pm at the flagpole for our private guided tour. Jeff and I have been told previously that Fabrizio was one of the best, if not the best tour guide at the site and we would have a great time. Jeff and I made our toilet runs, recharged the camera, packed our backpacks and proceeded to the bus to be driven 20 minutes up a steep mountain on a dirt road with fourteen switchbacks to finally, finally, finally, reach Machu Picchu. I was excited, I turned to Jeff on the bus and I said, “I’m actually really excited” and smiled anticipating the very moment of an eighteen year yearning to see this place. Slowly as we crept up to the site, I could see in a distance the ruins cascading down and stacked on the side of the mountain the just before the bus pulled up, parked, and opened the door to let us out, as I said silently underneath my breath, “Hello Machu, I finally made it to see you.”

By this time it was noon and we began to scope out the guides trying to guess which once was Fabrizio when we began to narrow the search. He was tall, thin, buttoned up shirt, jeans, and an umbrella with inconspicuous sunglasses on. He was the president of the tour group of the living museum, which we learned later in the tour. We walked over to introduce ourselves and began the guide by following him and his trusty umbrella as he started to talk about Hiram Bingham who was born in Honolulu Hawaii which, was still an island Kingdom and how he discovered Machu Picchu in 1911. However, just like in 1492 Christopher Columbus sailing the ocean blue discovering America, it’s not entirely a true discovery considering it was already known to the indigenous people, a few other explorers, whom reached the location years before. Bingham was an American academic who went to tour South America and by the help of local people came to discover the ancient city and was the one who essentially initiated world recognition. It’s a complex ideology to today’s locals and past recounts of who really claimed the discovery and since Fabrizio’s blood came from Cusco, he seemed split by the recognition of Bingham.


We continued on throughout the ruins stopping in certain areas as Fabrizio detailed his knowledge about the great landscape, and the history regarding the terraces, their irrigation system, housing along with the thatched roofs that were replaced. Some landmarks that really stood out were the Torreon resembling a corner of a fortress having two windows on each side and their significance relating to the summer and winter solstice when the sun’s rays shine through. To this day, every June 21st and December 21st, many believers and worshippers still make the excursion for religious rituals. Another location amid the site is the Temple of the Condor where sacrificing took place. What’s interesting about the Condor is how distinctly it looks as one, and when sacrifices use to take place, the blood would trickle down into a rock shaped as a beak. The housing was built around a quadrangle, and of course the vast amount of terraces for agricultural purposes, at least that’s the theory. Our tour took about two hours and fortunately for us, because there was only Fabrizio, Jeff and I, we were able to make our way around at a steady pace making a few more stops than usual.

Off to the side of Machu Picchu sitting slightly further up is Huayna Picchu . In order to be one of the lucky ones or even fanatical trekkers to witness the view from the land above, you have to be of the four hundred a day they allow up to the vertical inclined ruins vaguely seen from Machu. Only two hundred visitors at 7am and another two hundred at 10am as it will take close to an hour to reach the pinnacle of your trekking challenge. We attempted during the tour with Fabrizio but having been well pass 10am, Jeff and I knew rest assured no way were we going to pass that opportunity up. Our decision to stay an additional day went certified Platinum as we knew it had to be done now wanting to get photos from both the young and old peak. At one point of the tour, Fabrizio told us a story about how he guided a group of ‘ufologists’ as he calls them and how they were so convinced extra terrestrials came down and built the city. He said by the end of the tour, everyone was so depressed that they paid him to take them around immediately following their first tour, only this time to fabricate it slightly incorporating extra terrestrials. Classic.

As our tour was coming to the end, Fabrizio told us he was president of the tour group there at the site, and we somewhat took him seriously as he displayed a jokester persona. Not to mention he was the youngest of the guides out working the tourists, and his attire was nothing near what others were wearing. After a two and half hour informative narrating tour, Jeff and I wondered off on our own to take in the sites and sounds of mesmerizing views from all angles of the mountain. We took a few panoramic photos, made friends with llamas kicking back living the life, shooting “I’m on top of the world” photo opts at every possible angle, and ending the site seeing extravaganza with me convincing Jeff to walk down the mountain all the way back to Aguas Caliente. It really wasn’t that far down cutting directly through the switch back road the buses take and Fabrizio had mentioned the city is built deep into the slope of the mountain, which has yet to be excavated. When Jeff and I walked down the steep path we could see in the distance snippets of old walls mid way down, pretty astonishing the distance they covered. Walking from the top back down to the town was only an hour and twenty minutes; we had a fun time through the trees, crossing the river and walk alongside the road back up to the town to get situated at our hotel. Great exercise for the legs to say the least.

Once back the hotel and checked in, we were escorted to our room that cornered near the main walkway through the courtyard. I asked Jeff if we could look into moving since we both like to walk around bare skinned and being the greatest boyfriend that he is, he returned with a new set of keys to not only a bigger room, but also the best room in the house. That was a lovely surprise since originally I asked for one slightly more secluded, well that was a treat and to top it off, it had a bottle of Pisco propped up nicely waiting for our presence. The rooms at the Inkaterra hotel all have a cozy fireplace, no television, no internet in the room, and a complimentary bottle of mosquito repellent. It’s just as divine to utilize that as if it was a free bottle of champagne and an organic batch of Strawberries as I ended up having to practically take a bath in 3 x a day. It worked for the most part but the bloodsucking sneak attacks still managed to get their true blood.

After Jeff and I went to dinner we decided to hit the town for a bit to see if there was anything going on. Inkaterra is the furthest hotel away from the main attractions and takes a quick 3-5 minute steady paced walk to get to the market outside the train station. Nothing stayed open too late apart from the restaurants and a few shops. Jeff happened to spot Jenga and other leisurely material at a bar/restaurant including UNO. One of the workers spoke decent English and we offered to have him along with another employee who spoke no English to play. We had a round of shots and began to explain the concept of the game. The employee who spoke English was a bit older, soft-spoken, kind, and told us he recently bought the game in La Paz due to its popularity among the American tourists. We explained the rules as I spoke elementary grade Spanish and he spoke fluent with the non-English speaker. It was nail biting game with intensity and an array of close calls, but in the end nearly two and a half hours later, the elder man finally won. What a sigh of relief as it seemed to be never ending, but it was a fun time hanging with a couple locals, drinking and playing cards.

The next day Jeff and I woke up for breakfast in the dining area listening to the sounds of life echoing in the small ravine of the mountains. Our plan was to spend all day exploring and climb Huayna Picchu the following morning prior to our departure back to Cusco. There was a teepee hut as a sauna next to the pool outside completely roofed with sage that called our name every time we walked by, it was just too cool for us not to want to indulge in. We booked it for that afternoon knowing we were going to be soaking in sweat inhaling sage getting the toxins out of our bodies. After setting the appointment, we set out into town and gave in to our sweet tooth indulging in a Neapolitan ice cream cone from an older man selling it from his cart. Jeff and I looked like two kids excited to be alone from mommy for a few hours by the looks on our faces. For lunch we ate at a place called the Trout Market who cooked everything naturally in the kitchen of the restaurant/house. It only took an hour and half to prepare (harmless sarcasm here) in the kitchen of the restaurant/home, with only us and one other couple eating. Hearty plates and every thing from the fish to the soup to the ceviche and the fries were all cooked with love and preparation, 2 lbs gain, and carbs for the working mountain men, tasty.

After our meal we continued on with our stroll for a while before we headed back to Inkaterra to get our sweat on. Unfortunately however, the hotel forgot about our appointment and it takes an hour for the teepee even to get up to par which cracked into out tight and punctual agenda. Completely distraught by the mishap we had to go back to the room, have ourselves a revived siesta to mentality prepare for the teepee festivities that awaited us forty-five minutes later. Now, it looks adorable on the outside and oh so romantically exotic on the inside, with the candles lit, the aroma in the air, two semi-youngsters in a private session; its hardly the case when Jeff decides to imitate a Russian bath house slapping my body with a tide bunch of sage branches. Of course I had to return the favor to “slap” out the toxins from his pores, sweat dripping profusely from head to toes, and making quick runs to the ice pool outside. It was one hell of a session as if we just inaugurated an Inkaterra ritual.

That evening after dinner we went back into town to get a few souvenirs and made the decision to head to bed early as we wanted to hike Wayna Picchu the following morning. Buses started hauling at 5:30am up the mountain and we thought for sure only a few people would be as motivated as us to get up before dawn, trickling into a single file line, skip breakfast, sleep in the eyes to be the first load to see the ruins. Nope, not the case. Buses were lined up along the curve, with more to follow and the line of bright eye bushy tail enthusiasts was 20 busloads back giving us a grim chance of wishful thinking we were going to be the 7am bunch. I was pessimistic by the sight of people I can see and mentally counting the people I couldn’t see in front of the buses, if only we left ten minutes earlier. Jeff on the other hand was optimistic about it all, (we are half and half with moral support for each other, it’s an even balance) saying we will make it. Luckily as we were in line to enter Machu Picchu, the clip board warriors with the stamp of approval for Wayna were making their way down the long line of people marking “7am or 10am?” on tickets; we were #122 and #123 for 7am.

Spiritually breathtaking are the words to use when you’re the first few people to walk through a place like this when there is no one around. We took some photos of the calming view and quieting surroundings as we walked to the other side to enter Wayna Picchu. The gate was still closed as it was only 6:30 am and already several people were waiting patiently to enter and sign their name in the book of in and out. We nonchalantly found ourselves in line but being passive aggressive to not fall back towards the middle or end. Jeff and I were determined to get in there and trek the journey without being caught behind too many people. Gazing at the peak, you are slightly curious to see where the path actually takes you, only to confirm your gasps that it does actually take you narrowly along side the skinny mountain. Jeff and I went for it, slowly doing a strip show along the way as our body heat rose from the induced work out climbing. They say it’s an hour to the top, an hour to take it all in, and an hour for the return. We were up, around, and down before breakfast at Inkaterra closed at 10am. Won’t get into details about the hike up, but I will write the same thing a good friend of mine who visited years ago told me, you have to do Wayna Picchu, trust me.

Jeff and I were pleased with our accomplishment that morning and what better way to end it then by returning to the hotel for a nice breakfast. Our meal was included in our hotel accommodation and I wanted to make sure we got our moneys worth with the buffet breakfast food it offers to guests. After rewarding our famished stomachs with delicacies and drinking some tea, it was back to the room once more to utilize the little time we had before we had to check out. That is where Jeff started to feel under the weather with cold sweats and slightly fatigued. I kept the fire going for as long as I could and asked to extend our check out time so that he could rest a bit as our train didn’t leave until that afternoon. Eventually when we did check out, we walked to a pharmacy to get some medicine but didn’t have enough money on us to buy it leaving Jeff feeling a bit out of it.

We had lunch at a restaurant in town throwing back a few Jack Daniel shots to numb the ill feeling. Shortly there after, we decided to get a couple’s massage just down the road to work out the soreness in the calves. The massage place is small, very small, probably a little sketchy to be quite honest, but the women there have strength of an Ox. Robotic and mechanically which I’m not a fan of, but they know where it hurts and will w-o-r-k i-t o-u-t! Never underestimate small woman doing massage, and I can speak for myself, as I am a masseuse.

It was 2:30 pm and we headed to the train station to board the train back to Cusco. Jeff still didn’t have medicine on hand and we didn’t have enough time to stop to pick any up. As we boarded the train, we ran into the older gentlemen who played Uno with us the first night, he even remembered Jeff’s name though we forgot his. The train left at 4pm en route to Cusco, and Jeff was perched up against the window fast asleep before the train took off. During the ride back, we were served again with a small appetizer as well as a fashion show put on by the servers modeling traditional Andean clothing but before that there was a interlude with a server dressed as a jokester wearing a clown suit frolicking up and down our cabin. Apparently there is a legend of a mischievous boy who liked to whine up the local people during Incan times and for that, the server was about to imitate the legend antics by dancing and making growling sounds. Well, he did it several times and I don’t know where he had the inclination to pick me out of everyone to grab up and tote along with him, but I did it. We danced up and down the aisle as people laughed and took photos all the while Jeff is sound asleep still against the window. We danced for a period of time until eventually he swung me around and said thank you for being a good sport. I walked back to my seat and the woman across says to me, “I love the fact that your boyfriend is totally sleeping during all this.” I told her he wasn’t feeling good, and surely enough ten minutes later he wakes up and I tell him he missed some entertainment.

The afternoon turned into evening and I watched the stars slowly engage them selves into the deep darkness of the night. The moon was full and the north start was visibly aligned perfectly with the moon. We soon reached the north side of Cusco slowing creeping our way back to the train station after the long cruising journey. I sat in my seat thinking about how this could be a fairy tale to tell young children of a place so enchanting far far away and how you have to take this magical train to fly up (or down) into mountains to reach a city full of riches, beauty, waterfalls, unknown civilization, inexplicable, nobility, and you come back as a whole new special person; the imagination of young minds. Well, its fabricated for the children’s sake, but as they grow to realize you do in fact take a train to a beautiful small town nestled in the mountains, great food, friendly people, ruins never found by the Spaniards surrounded by mountains, and draws an unprecedented amount of people from all over the world; it still seems like a fairy tale to me.

The next day was my birthday and we were set to go on a guided tour of the Sacred Valley leaving at 8am. Jeff still wasn’t feeling good and insisted on me going alone while he recovered from his bug. I felt bad leaving him behind but he said to go enjoy the day and he would still be there when I return that evening. I met up with a few other people from other hotels as we gathered into a big touring bus and sped along passed Sacsayhuyman on our way to Pisac market. Touring the Sacred Valley was lovely with all the stops we made during the day from Pisac to our buffet lunch in Urubamba, to the tour of Ollantaytambo, and ending at Chinchero town 12,000 feet up. Although I was there alone, I really enjoyed learning all the history of the particular locations understanding their significance to the Incan empire and also to the Spanish. To this day the culture is still solidified with people commonly-speaking Cachua, traditional garb, self-sufficiency, agriculture, and their looks of dark hair, deep eyes, and long noses. It’s remarkable to see it all finally in full view, get a glimpse into the past and understand how advanced these people during their time. Cusco, Machu Picchu, and the Sacred Valley are just some of the places to visit and are more known to tourists today but the entire country of Peru and majority of the Northwest continent has hundreds of locations of indigenous tribal culture, miscellaneous, and even uniformed with the Incan. Although my birthday was without Jeff, I have to say it was open-minded, succeeded, gratifying, and rewarding to do a tour guide and listen to stories of what was and still is.

That evening I finally returned back to the hotel from the long day to see Jeff on the bed watching TV and him telling me to go look in drawers as he had little birthday gifts stashed for me. He said he got out of bed to walk around town to get me birthday gifts even though I said I didn’t want anything. He bought me an Incan book of history and locations, earrings, Pacha mama earrings and a necklace, and a beautiful plaque of Machu Picchu set in a box with a brief historical description engraved on the back. He also told me about a local Irish Pub down the road that we went to for a couple of drinks. I, of course, stuck to the whiskey and maybe a couple Pisco shots, while Jeff and I chatted with some of the patrons. The bartender was from Rochester, New York and drove a motorcycle down from Arizona, which is a blog needed to be read. Another guy from Laguna Niguel up the road from San Diego said he has been there fifteen times and married a woman from Cusco so I guess you would call him semi-local?!? Who knows, but we stayed for a bit before returning to the hotel where I found a beautiful birthday cake waiting for me. Jeff had it all planned out and it had one of those pesky candles that don’t go out when you blow on it the first time so I did what anyone would do, I spit on it.

Monday morning came around and we set out on our trip back to LAX making three stops along the way, Lima, San Jose, and San Salvador. Our original plan was to stop back in Costa Rica for a night but decided there was no point really, just to spend a night in a hotel. When we arrived back into LAX at 11pm Monday night, Jeff and I were one of the very last passengers to get out of customs because of secondary screening. We were pulled aside and questioned for our trip of two weeks away, with only our carry on luggage being searched, which was odd. The customs agent didn’t bother to check out our big suitcase and even though we weren’t carrying anything except for liquor, the entire time I was anxious. Who likes to be questioned and have your belongings being searched? I know I didn’t have anything but going through the process is never exciting to say the least. Finally we were given the permission to leave as my nerves were jumping up and down, made it to our car, and ended our journey home around 3:15am. A long day of traveling but well worth the entire week in Peru and a second trip down is already on the agenda of my curious mind.

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