Hike to Machu Picchu

This was one of the places that lived in my imagination long before my feet ever touched the ground. Peru—with its towering mountains, ancient ruins, and legendary landscapes—was one of those places. And after finally making the trip, I can confidently say this: nothing I imagined could match what I felt standing in the presence of Machu Picchu or staring across the endless ridges of the Andes.

This was a spontaneous trip that a friend had asked me to join for her birthday. We planned this trip in less than two weeks after buying our tickets on a whim.

Let me start with the truth: Peru’s elevation is no joke.

The first day, walking a single block in Cusco felt like hiking a marathon. I’m not being dramatic—I’ve never felt so humbled by a set of stairs in my life. At over 11,000 feet above sea level, even tying your shoes feels like a cardio workout. We quickly realized we had to pace ourselves, drink that coca tea, and laugh through the wheezing. Altitude had turned the simplest movements into mini-triumphs.

Confession: We sort of cheated a little on Machu Picchu. We took the bus up the winding switchbacks instead of doing the full hike. But after Rainbow Mountain, I have no regrets.

Even with the easier access, Machu Picchu was stunning. Set against lush green mountains and kissed by drifting clouds, the ancient Incan citadel was a masterpiece of engineering and spiritual intention. It felt timeless, peaceful, and strangely alive—like the stones were still whispering stories of the people who once walked there.

If Machu Picchu was the bucket list checkmark, Rainbow Mountain (Vinicunca) was the plot twist. I had never heard of this place until our travel agent mentioned it and told us it was worth it!

No one warned me just how hard this hike would be. The trail starts at over 14,000 feet and climbs to around 17,000. Our guide gave us what he called "liquid cocaine." It was a small bottle of something that you sniffed and it helped with the altitude sickness. At that altitude, even taking a deep breath feels like a challenge. The cold was sharp, the incline relentless—but then we reached the summit.

And wow.

The view was unlike anything I’ve ever seen—vivid layers of red, green, yellow, lavender, and gold streaking across the mountainside like something painted by nature’s own hand. It didn’t look real. It was surreal beauty born of ancient minerals and tectonic forces, and in that thin air, surrounded by silence and color, it felt like standing on another planet.

Once at the top, the savory smell of BBQ hit my nostrils! I had to see what was cooking. This was the first time I tried alpaca meat. I wasn’t sure what to expect—maybe something gamey or chewy—but it was surprisingly lean and tender, a little like beef with a wild twist. It felt like a rite of passage, one bite deeper into the Peruvian experience.

One of my favorite parts of Peru? The handmade art and colorful markets. Every stall was an explosion of vibrant woven textiles, intricately carved gourds, hand-painted pottery, and shimmering silver jewelry. I make it a point to buy something handmade in every country I travel to. I bought more than I should have (no regrets), each piece carrying the spirit of the Andes, the hands of its maker, and a story worth sharing.

Peru wasn’t just a trip. It was a challenge, a lesson, and a love letter from the earth itself. It tested my lungs, filled my camera roll, and reminded me of the beauty that comes when you push a little further—whether that’s one more step at 17,000 feet or a bite of something you never thought you’d eat.

I know I'm not even nearly done with my list, but crossing Machu Picchu off my bucket list was quite the accomplishment.