Sneaking into Machu Picchu

Once at Aguas Calientes, the village at the base of the Machu Picchu mountain, there are three ways to the Incan ruins:

1. Buy a ticket for $48 and a bus ticket for $6
2. Buy a ticket for $48 and make the two-hour ascent on foot
3. Sneak in.

We were taking the third option, and armed with our notes (see our previous entry Machu Picchu on a shoestring), we set off for the two hour walk, two hours before sunset.

The first 40 minutes of steep stone steps - enough to get our hearts racing and our bodies covered in sweat - brought us to the entrance of the 'forbidden path'. After a quick look and a deep breath, we dove into the jungle and climbed 'an animal path made by desperate animals' through the dense bush for the next 20 minutes - enough to keep the sweat rolling and also to cover us in dirt - until we came face to face with a stone wall: the forbidden terraces of Machu Picchu. Wow. The huge grey rocks were more significant to us for the fact we really weren't supposed to be amongst them.

We crawled and scrambled over these until we were back in the jungle, climbing high above the valley along the edge of another cliff.

Our first close view of the ruins (peering through a gap in the jungle) took our breath away.

As we emerged from the bush, drenched in sweat and covered in dirt, we did our best to 'blend in' with the ticket-paying tourists - as was suggested by our notes. I'm not sure how sucessful we were in this part of the mission. At this time of day, the ticket-payers were of the white-sneaker-and-cream-visor variety, and were saying things to each other like 'oh, this is one of their acqueducts' (about a stream of water coming out of the ground) loudly in English.

And us, well, we looked something like this ...

... and were't saying much at all, too busy catching our breath. Stoked to be there all the same, we had a look around and started snapping out photos like the best of them.

We had a blissful 15 minutes ... before we realised we were starting to be herded out with the others. We had managed to sneak in 15 minutes before closing time!!!

Unperturbed, we ignored the bus queue and started walking down to the valley, determined to make another ascent in the morning. On the track we were greeted by a couple of friendly dogs (one black, one white), who accompanined us right the way down to the village, where Andy helped them growl-down an aggressive pair of boxers, cementing our friendship.

After dinner, we set the alarm for 3.30am, and crashed out.

As can be imagined, it was quite dark at 4am. Our plan (against the advice of our trusty notes)was to penetrate the site before sunrise. Much to our delight we were greeted by a couple of familiar canine types as we left our hostel, and were able to follow their white banners wagging in the light of the waning moon. We were inspired to change their names from 'Blacky' and 'Whitey' to the far more creative 'Machu' and 'Picchu'.

The steps were a cinch, but not the jungle. The 20 minutes stretched to 40 as we wasted much precious time following a rogue gully (unable to use our torch for fear of discovery). Having found the path again we finally popped out at the first terraces just as it was getting light.

At the bottom of the site we sat in the jungle and watched what was going on. It appeared that there were both security and toursits in there, so we took a deep breath (necessary, at 2600m) and sped-walked to the first terraces. Straight into three security guards, just as our notes predicted. Hmmmm.

The site was truly magical at that time of the morning. My Nanna described her visit to Machu Picchu all those years ago as the place she felt closest to God. While I stood there and took in the ancient terraces and the beautiful mist-shrouded mountains behind, I felt close to my Nanna.

Meanwhile, Andrew was deep in conversation with the guards about the fee struture of the site. He is very good at this sort of thing, and I had quite some time to contemplate the beauty of the place. I even manged to take a photo before they threatened to confiscate our camera. Not a very good one, it needed a tripod (or at least a terrace) however it gives an impression and provides us with a memory of Machu contempalting the scene. Picchu (the more flighty of the pair) had already dissapeared.


I reckon we had about as much time as the night before (15 minutes) before we were herded out the gate again. There we were confonted by the first tourists of the morning (more the fleece-and-homemade-jewellery backpacker types than the white-t-shirters of the night before), who were to be let in to the site just as the last mist would be disappearing from the peaks.

Satisfied with our short (but unique) visit, we decided to make the return trek that morning.