We got up at 02h30 to catch the bus to Ollantaytambo, from where we got onto the train to Aguas Calientes. Our itinerary indicated: 14 March 2025 – All day visit to Machu Picchu. Our reality was quite different. We did get to Machu Picchu in the end, but not before spending seven hours stuck in a train, watching the angry waters of the Urubamba river through the train window. Apparently, a rockslide had caused the delay, but after that had been cleaned up, the train waiting in front of ours was derailed. This we only heard about much later. The train was clean, warm, and comfortable. Everyone remained calm, but around 14h00 we faced the reality that we would not be getting to Machu Picchu. It was a miserable, rainy day anyway. We tried to make light of it. Life happens. When the train eventually began moving, we were only a few minutes away from the station at Aguas Calientes. As we got off the train, we found ourselves thrust into a crowd trying to push their way onto the crowded platform. It was quite unsettling. We went to the meeting point where we were sure that our guide, if he was still waiting after seven hours, would help us to arrange for immediate return to Cusco.
Our no nonsense, and obviously experienced guide, Elisvan, had no trouble getting us onto the bus that was going to take us up to Machu Picchu. Our concerns varied from ‘not enough time’, to ‘narrow, slippery roads winding up the mountain’, and ‘the river is rising’. He would hear none of it. They would have closed the mountain if it was dangerous, the weather was improving, the roads were safe, and there was enough time. He was right.
Elisvan explained that if we had arrived when we were supposed to, we would not have been able to see Machu Picchu, as it had been overcast all day. The clouds only made way for the sun when we arrived. And so it came that a disaster became a blessing for our group of eight. There was also no sign of the mosquitoes everyone talked about. The road winding up the side of the mountain was indeed in perfect condition, the buses modern and well-maintained, and the drivers knew what they were doing.
Our fellow tourists were rude and inconsiderate, and the pushing and shoving to get pictures taken meant that there was no time to experience the mountain. We spent two hours on Machu Picchu before Elisvan rushed us out of the gate just as the mountain closed for the day, and the rain started pouring down again. But it is what it is. At least we were able to see the place. It was worth it.
Elisvan helped us to find a restaurant to have a quick dinner, before heading back to the station for some more pushing and shoving in the waiting room that lasted an hour as we waited for our train. Why people behaved as if they were fighting for the very last seat available, while everyone already had a seat allocated to them, was a mystery. By the time we boarded around 20h30, we were exhausted. The train stopped again in the middle of the pitch black night, while we wondered how high the river had risen in the meantime. Eventually, the train moved again, but it was past 01h20 before the tired group arrived back at Casa de la Gringa, twenty three hours after our alarms went off the previous day.
We will remember our competent guide, who was very proud of his Incan descent. He made all the difference when we were ready to give up, and we remain grateful that the clouds parted for two hours to let a few humans see the remains of what once must have been spectacular. How the next day would unfold after our tough twenty four hours, had to remain the next day’s concern. All we wanted to do, was sleep. The toothbrush felt heavy …