There are many ways to get to the top of Machu Picchu.
While, when I initially booked this trip, I originally thought we’d signed up for the 4-day, 3-night Inca Trail, I am glad that I’m getting the opportunity to experience Peru’s Perurail Vistadome train, which offers almost 360-degree views of the trek up.
Picturesque, this train is certainly fast, though it is significantly slower than Japan’s bullet rain. While I liked the bullet train a lot, I do think that the more casual pace of the Vistadome offers far more in the way of photo opportunities.
Woven runners cover the tables between my friends and I–symbolically depicting various aspects of Peru. Pleasant women are going down the aisles, handing out coca tea and quinoa cookies. The tea–which, yes, is made from brewing THOSE coca leaves–is a tradition dating back to the Incas. It helps significantly with altitude sickness.
To my right, Johanna and Nathalia are chatting in their native Spanish, having bonded, probably, over their shared native tongue. Out that window, I see farmland, where families grow corn, potatoes, and other vegetables. Houses fit snugly into the sacred valley against the backdrop of the Andes mountain range and the white caps of the far-off peaks of Veronica.
The first tourists reached the top in 1956, and they included a group of Swiss, French, and Dutch adventurers. Veronica is a very difficult mountain to clear, technically speaking, and I can see why. She towers up past everything at a full 5,700 meters above sea level.
To my left, I see stone cottages and logs that have been recently chopped. A larger river cuts through, feeding fresh water to the village that is slowly disappearing behind us. Anna, Byron, and Max are snacking on their train treats and booking our hotel for the last nights in Lima.
Above us is a crystal-clear blue sky. The sun shines warmly against cold windows and the entire panoramic view is lovely. Everywhere you look, you can see some aspect of this remote place I’d only ever read about in books at school.
And now we’re here: chugging away at 35 km an hour, resting our feet from yesterday’s climb up the ancient stone steps to the Temple of the Sun God.
Growing up in Florida, you don’t see mountains unless you leave to go find them elsewhere. I’ve made it a practice to find as many as I can, wherever I can. I’m forever in awe of them: looming above us, jutting out of the ground and overlooking the world from their lofty heights. They’ve seen so much: from the heyday of the Incan Empire, to the first planes and the motorcycles that are parked outside these remote houses…and now, to today: with me riding the Vistadome train with my friends as I type on my MacBook and check my iPhone.
I always think about what historic events were going on while these large trees stood. Many of them existed when Lincoln was shot; people climbed through these paths when the Tudors were in power–unsuspecting of the events that were shifting the pace of the Western world, simply living as they are now: folded into this incredible Eden, living in a whole different world then the one I’ve always known.
To our left, we just passed hikers clearing the first part of the Inca Trail, with packs on their backs and fresh air in their lungs. I’m thinking of my friend Luis–a bar regular from DC– who one day just decided he was going to climb Kilimanjaro. He said it was life-changing, and ever since I’ve wanted to do it, too.
Machu Picchu’s Inca Trail is also on that list, but I will definitely need to train a lot for it. The stair-master at my gym helped me with these lighter hikes, but the Inca Trail is a beast…which means it will be worth it.
We’re stopping, at the moment, to let some hikers off so they can set out on the Inca trail, leading us to learn that there are various points where you can start. That’s pretty interesting: you can pick how long you want to be out there.
I’ve been spending my free time on this trip designing the next one, complete with an ayahuasca retreat, the Inca Trail, and a night or two in pods we saw hanging off of the mountain. My friend Natalia did the retreat and the pods the last time she was here and the photos look incredible.
And that’s the thing about traveling: you discover more stuff you never knew existed and it just makes you want to soak in more….chase another adventure…open your mind up to another aspect of these incredible cultures that are so different from yours in so many ways, but are tied to you with that same basic thread of humanity. Finding the differences and balancing them with the similarities is the entire point, really; not just of travel, but of interaction in general.
That similarity, I find, doesn’t stop with the present day. History is laced with examples of the human condition, all over the world. Brilliant, funny, warm people existed millions of years ago, too. Traveling to places you’ve read about brings that home. Jokes are told in the thatched huts and cabins we just passed. People have sex, they have arguments, they fall in love, they miss their parents, they work hard, and they treat their headaches with the herbs we use in medicines back home.
And that’s the thing I think I love about this stuff: connection to the rest of the world; with human beings and pets and places.
I hope to travel like this for the rest of my life.
Edit: on the way back, my friends and I played Rummy with the deck of commemorative cards I purchased on the way up.
Our heads full of beautiful views from Machu Picchu, we enjoyed a live fashion show full of the colors and music of Andean culture and snacked on Peruvian chocolate. Some memories come from big moments in your life and some come from the small ones.
That Rummy game was one of my favorites.
Cheers.
Kara Adamo is a globe-trotting ex-bartender, booze nerd, and booze writer. She is the author of Fancy Grape Juice: De-Snootifying the World’s Snootiest Beverage; Artimals: Coloring the Whimsical Wild; and Brews & Hues: A Coloring Book About Beer.
Adamo is a digital nomad, working as a UX writer and UX designer.
She is writing her fourth book, Layers of Cake.
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