The day began with an early morning breakfast at the hotel overlooking the stunning river vista — Francis was eager to catch the first bus to Machu Picchu to start our hike. As we waited in line for the bus, Charlie found a curious local cat, and of course had to get some pets in. Breakfast by 6 a.m., and by 7, we were on the first bus up the mountain.
Reaching Machu Picchu, we explored areas we hadn’t covered the day before, soaking in the majesty of the ancient site. An hour of wandering around the ruins led us to the gates of Wayna Picchu — our next adventure. We showed our timed tickets, signed the hike log, and set off on the trail.
Before beginning the ascent, we descended from Machu Picchu itself—still partially cloaked in clouds—then quickly found ourselves on the steep, narrow path leading up Wayna Picchu. Our group was moving at different paces, with Charlie almost eager to run up the mountain. I had talked with Willie about other hikes I’ve completed, and about a third of the way up, he trusted Charlie and I enough to let us go on our on, so we decided to forge on, leaving the slower group behind. That was a highlight; it felt like we had the mountain to ourselves. Charlie’s speed was exhilarating — so fast that I had to make a rule that she had to stay in sight. Her unstoppable enthusiasm was a thrill, and kept me plenty nervous, given the sheer drops along the trail.
We scrambled upward, and once at the summit, we relaxed and took in the breathtaking view of the valley and Machu Picchu below. Charlie also shared the snacks she’d packed. Eventually, our group members caught up one by one, and our guide Willy joined us atop the mountain. He had warned us about a tricky cave, the Temple of the Moon, on the descent, which indeed required some spelunking, but emerging on the other side offered the best vantage point of Machu Picchu—massive, intricate, and humbling, even under a cloudy sky. Moments when the clouds parted revealed the astonishing scale and craftsmanship of this ancient civilization’s masterpiece.
Descending was a swift, thrilling rush—now with a clear view of the steep climb we had just conquered. Leaning downhill coming down really is different than leaning uphill on the way up. We raced down to Machu Picchu, where Willy and Francis had again given us the all-clear to move faster, and it bought us some peaceful solitude amid the ruins. Walking among the stone structures felt indescribably impressive—an experience that truly comes alive when you stand amidst them. Afterwards, we caught the bus down and reunited with Amy, who had chosen a massage over the hike.
We then gathered our belongings, enjoyed a quick lunch, and boarded the Inka Rail for the return journey to Ollantaytambo. The train ride was again relaxing highlight, complete with the same bar cart and traditional dancing, allowing us some well-earned downtime.
Arriving in Ollantaytambo, our driver was ready to whisk us to Cuzco—but not before Francis insisted on a detour to charm us with one more town: Urubamba. It seemed like other charming, typical towns until we stumbled upon a hidden gem—Cerveceria Willkamayu, a brewery owned by Francis and his brothers. We were greeted warmly, offered pints, and I got lost in the nostalgic charm of the LP boombox as Francis showed us around. It was a wonderfully welcoming spot that perfectly captured the spirit of community and craftsmanship, and it was great to get a glimpse into a life of Francis and his family.
As we wound through the hillside towards Cuzco, a surprise awaited us. Although rerouted due to a parade, we arrived at the luxurious Palacio del Inka—our home for the night, slighty after dark. We settled in, took showers, caught up on emails, and reflected on a memorable final dinner with the group. To our surprise, two of our tripmates had booked the same Peruvian tour we planned for the interlude—an unexpected coincidence for the journey ahead.
