Woke at 4.30am to begin the big adventure to Machu Picchu which translates and 'old mountain', everyone pronounces Picchu wrong and apparently the wrong pronunciation translates to something very rude!! To be perfectly honest, after a horrible night of sleep, I wasn't too much of a happy chappy to be waking up so early, but I dragged myself out of bed - knowing that it would be worth it, well, hoping that it would be worth it.
After the insanely scary bus ride, upon arrival, it was six o'clock. With the huge river rushing 400m below, the mountains were still towering, hazed over my morning mist. It was chilly, very chilly. Some say Machu Picchu was built for astronomy, others think it was a retreat for the Incas, there are endless theories. Truthfully, no body knows what the site was for, one can only guess. There was and is nothing written in any Incan or Spanish writing that mentioned the site at all, I guess trying to figure out the unknown adds to the mystery of the place. The site is huge, it took more than three hours to explore. Standing at the top, looking down on what I've always wanted to see, was deeply empowering.
At one point I looked through my viewfinder and it felt like I was taking a picture of a picture, but on lowering the camera, the realization that I was actually at Machu Picchu kicked in and I felt a profound wonder settle inside me. It was an amazing experience, an experience that I can try my hardest to explain, but mere words cannot express the vast beauty and sereneness the place conjured.
Being there made me feel an odd sense of nostalgia for something, some people and some time that I will never know.
And getting up at 4.30 was, no doubt, worth it.
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