Finding peace in the lost city of the Incas

Michele Lacsamana

Seeing countless photographs of this mystical place did nothing to prepare me for the awesome view of forested mountain peaks surrounding ancient buildings and row upon row of granite walls spread out before me. I wish I could say that I had some words of wisdom to share when I saw this breathtaking panoramic vista, but all I could do was gasp and utter a few profane words in dumbstruck awe.

While still in Cusco, former capital of the Inca empire, we had worked with a travel agent who arranged for our train tickets from Cusco to Aguas Calientes, the tourist town at the base of the ruins, hotel accommodations in town, our shuttle bus tickets from Aguas Calientes to the entrance of Machu Picchu, as well as a guided group tour of the ruins. Catching the early shuttle bus up a series of steep switchbacks to the entrance, we arrived before sunrise with the hopes of missing the crowd of tourists. My friend, who was on her first trip outside of the United States, began to panic when we could not find our tour guide and other guides started to bombard us trying to sell their tour services. We had no receipt, no paperwork, nothing to show that we paid for a guided tour. All we had was the name of our guide - Miguel.

But I wasn't worried. How difficult could it be to find someone with a name as common as Miguel in a place as big as Machu Picchu? We finally heard someone calling out "Miguel's tour, Miguel's tour," so we followed a dark Peruvian man with a worn leather hat and walking stick and the rest of our group into the ancient ruins.

The early morning light seemed magical as the low-lying mist began to dissipate. The sun started to rise over the high mountain peaks and slowly light the peak of Huayna Picchu, which towers over the ancient city. Starting with granite buildings at the top of the ruins and moving slowly down the mountainside to the agricultural terraced stone walls and staircases, the sun bathed the ancient city in a warm light. Mesmerized, I stood on the high grassy terrace watching each stone wall move from the shadows into the light, row by row, as the sun rose higher in the sky.

The digital shutter sounds of my fellow visitors snapping away, filling the memory cards on their cameras, pulled me back from my reverie. I took a deep breath and soaked in this classical, well-depicted view of Machu Picchu, half listening to our guide talk about its history.

In 1911, Hiram Bingham, a Yale archeologist, set off with the aid of a local farmer in search of the fabled lost city of the Incas and discovered, or rather re-discovered, this important Incan archaeological site. Built 8,000 feet above sea level in the remote Andes mountains and totally hidden from view, Machu Picchu escaped the destructive hand of the Spanish conquistadors who demolished the Inca empire in the 16^th century.

It is believed that the Incas built Machu Picchu in the mid-15^th century and abandoned it by the mid-16^th century, before the Spaniards arrived on the continent. The construction, purpose and abandonment of this Incan citadel remains shrouded in mystery, although numerous and contradictory theories exist. Perhaps it was a royal retreat, an astronomical observatory, a religious ceremonial center or an agricultural community.

My friend and I visited other Inca ruins in Cusco and the Sacred Valley earlier in the week and jokingly cursed "the white man" for building a church on a holy Inca place or removing stones from Inca buildings to construct their own mansions or monasteries. So it was refreshing to see the most well-preserved Inca city that managed to escape devastation. However, I did wonder how much destruction today's tourists are having on the city as we and hundreds of others climbed freely all over the ruins.

As our guide led the group to the Three Windows Wall and to Inti-Huatana, down to the Royal Mausoleum and Condor Stone, I marveled at the extraordinary masonry and wondered how the Incas carved the stones to build this city. The stones were neither precise rectangles nor were they a uniform size. Remarkably, each stone fit into the other stones so seamlessly that mortar was not needed. Before their final placement, each stone was cut to an exact size and shape to fit in its space like a jigsaw puzzle. The stonework for some of the buildings was so exact that a knife would not fit between the stones.

In the Royal Mausoleum, steps were carved into a single massive piece of granite and other stones were carved to fit flawlessly around an existing piece of natural rock. One of the stones used in the Three Windows Wall was carved with eight sides and interlocks perfectly with the stones around it. Some of the stones were so massive I could not comprehend how the Incas managed to move them, much less how they managed to carve them to fit the stones around them.

At the end of our tour, our guide talked about the coca leaf. Drinking coca tea or chewing on the coca leaf is used to lessen the effects of altitude sickness, an ailment many tourists experience in the high elevation of Machu Picchu. It is from the coca leaf that cocaine is made; however, each leaf contains just a trace of the drug. Our tour guide then began to pass around coca leaves from his little embroidered pouch with a pinch of ground charcoal to anyone who wanted to try. I had already drunk some coca tea to help with altitude sickness, but I wanted to try chewing the leaves. It tasted horrible. I quickly spit it out and felt a little guilty since I was standing on sacred Inca land.

Most visitors travel to Machu Picchu as a day trip from Cusco, taking the train in the morning and arriving at the ruins around 11:00 a.m. and then leaving around 3:00 p.m. to catch the train back to Cusco. By the time our guided tour was over, throngs of visitors were beginning to arrive. To escape them and the intense midday sun, I headed into the forest for a short hike to the Inca Bridge. On the climb up the ruins to reach the trail head, I was rewarded by even more spectacular views of Machu Picchu. The bridge that I eventually reached wasn't that memorable, but the walk in the woods was a cool, quiet break from the sun-drenched, crowded ruins.

I spent the rest of the afternoon daydreaming in the shade and watching llamas graze in the Central Plaza and looking up at the rounded forested mountain peaks around me. I wondered if the llamas knew how lucky they were to be surrounded by all this natural beauty.

By mid-afternoon, the tourist horde left to catch the last train and suddenly it felt like I had this quiet, tranquil place all to myself. The sun started to fade behind the high Andean peaks and within moments Machu Picchu was transformed into a mystical, peaceful place of reflection. I took a deep breath and gave thanks to the Incas for what they created.

Michele Lacsamana is a freelance writer based in San Diego.

© Copley News Service