Machu Picchu

We don’t actually have our tickets for the train as we booked on the internet and Peggy’s insistent that Will leave at 4.45am to collect the tickets ahead of the 5am ticket office opening time. So it’s a 4.30am alarm call and he’s off whilst I try to raise the kids from their beds and get them dressed before meeting him at 5.30am. Why are we doing this??

All trains to Machu Picchu are now run by a company joint-owned by Orient Express and Peru Rail and, whilst the Orient Express luxury is there, the Peru disorganisation is what you have to deal with whilst trying to collect your tickets, which means that, as we arrive at the station at 5.30am, Will has only just managed to collect our tickets which were pre-booked and paid for.

We have opted for the mid-class train, the Vistadome, which costs £220 (for the 4 of us) for a 4 hour return journey to Aguas Caliente but hey, at least it includes breakfast (some coca tea plus a cheese and ham roll). Once we disembark at Aquas Caliente, we have to pay another $7 for a 30 minute bus ride up the mountain and then £25 each to get into Machu Picchu. To top it all, we then pay £25 for a guide to help us decipher the stones. An expensive day.

Machu Picchu was discovered by American historian Hiram Bingham in 1911, which is almost the same year that I started to harbour a desire to visit and it doesn’t disappoint. After our guide has left, we spent a long time just sitting in the grass and looking out over the mountains in front of us and imagining what went on here in its heyday. It’s not at all hard to imagine.

The problem with sitting in the grass and daydreaming is that sand flys take you unawares and bite you all over (or is it more like a sting?), leaving nasty welts that take 3 days to stop itching. It seems we’re not alone. Almost everyone we meet over the next few days who has been up here is sporting similar war wounds to those that we leave with.

On our train ride back to Cusco, the only other Brits in the entire train are sat across the aisle from us. Of course, as the highly reserved English rose that I am, I don’t speak to them for at lease, oooo, um, 10 minutes, and then I crack. They have a 6 and 2 year old (Toby and Clara) who soon hit it off with our 8 and 4 year old and pretty soon we’re all swapping seats so the kids can play whatever it is they’re playing together and we (plus Scott and Karen) can share a bottle of wine. 3 hours into the journey, we discover that, not only are we staying in the same hotel, but they have the room next door to us. Small world, once you get into the small rooms.

1 hour from Cusco and the train breaks down. We’re finally offered the chance of a minibus (which will take ½ hour to get back but will cost an extra £1 each) or we can stay on the train and take an extra hour. We opt for the minibus and finally arrive back to the hotel at 9pm. A long day.