Peru Through My Eyes: The Lost City of Inca—Machu Picchu
I have been thinking for a while about what I felt when I saw Machu Picchu in person for the first time. Honestly, I remember feeling overwhelmed by all of it. Not just by the Inca ruins themselves, but by the entire journey and experience that brought me to this very place.
Writing about this experience feels like I am re-experiencing it all over again, but this time, I get to see it from a different perspective—the Stella who was there then, and the Stella who is writing this now.
In a way, I am sharing this experience with my readers while also doing a little—or maybe a lot—of reflection with myself.
The Lost City of the Inca. That is what they called Machu Picchu, and honestly, it is such a fitting, almost magical name for these ancient ruins.
I am happy you are here to take another walk through the history of this incredible land with me.
Stairway to The Inca Ruins
That morning, after sleeping in a real bed for the first time in four days, I got ready to meet the rest of the group at the head of the trail leading up to Machu Picchu.
Yes, I know.
Another hike.
The sky was still dark when we started walking. I had actually bought a bus ticket to go up, but most of my friends were hiking, so here we were—one last dance with my dear old friend, altitude sickness.
When we arrived, we waited for the others and for Robin at the meeting spot. We were a little worried because it was incredibly foggy. The sky was covered in thick, grey clouds.
Speaking of bad weather.
After Robin and the rest of my teammates arrived, we began walking toward the entrance.
Well, I wasn’t expecting the gates of heaven to suddenly open or the clouds to dramatically move out of the way.
But yeah. It was still really cool to see the thing you have seen countless times on your computer screen suddenly standing right in front of you.
Cringy as it sounds, I think I deserved to be a little cringy after all the twists and turns it took to get here.
Robin explained a few things to us and told us to wait a little while until it was our turn to walk through the ruins. As we sat there, I thought this would probably be a good spot to take The Picture. You know, the one I pinned on my Pinterest or instagram reels ? I wanted that ! The mountain said, “Absolutely not!” The ruins were completely covered in fog.
At that point, I guess I had made peace with it. And honestly, I am happy with the way
things happened.
When The Cloud Finally Move
And just like that, our time at Machu Picchu went by with the fog covering the ancient ruins… Just kidding.
I hope you didn’t buy that lie.
History was repeating itself. At this point, I had kind of accepted it. I even started brainstorming ways I could somehow come back the next day when the weather was nicer—no clouds, no fog, preferably blue skies. But apparently, Machu Picchu has its own way of deciding who gets to see it and when. And then, it happened again. I was filming a bird when Dan suddenly said,“Oh my God, the cloud is moving!”
Yes.
It was indeed moving. Imagine an ancient city, hidden beneath thick clouds, with a giant mountain slowly revealing itself as the wind began to move its cover away. I watched in awe.
It was magical. Surreal.
I think if I had arrived and seen Machu Picchu immediately, it still would have been amazing. But watching it slowly reveal itself like that? It was something else entirely. I was lucky enough to have my camera ready, so I managed to record the whole thing. Honestly, sometimes I still scroll through my gallery just to watch that video again.
After the fog finally cleared and we could see Machu Picchu with our own eyes, we sat there for a while, taking in the view and, obviously, taking pictures.
Then we started our walk inside the hidden Inca city itself.
Stepping Into The Ancient Ruin
We walked through the brown stone structures that made the place feel almost like a little city frozen in time. Because it really was a city. There were buildings, terraces, pathways, and even something that looked like a town square. We spotted llamas wandering around, and Robin shared some of the folklore and history surrounding the site, including the story of how local farmers knew about the ruins long before Hiram Bingham III brought Machu Picchu to international attention.
One of the things that stayed with me the most was how deeply the Inca people valued nature and how sacred it was to them. This is what I love most about traveling.
You don’t just learn about a country. You learn what makes it itself.
As much as I appreciate luxury, beautiful buildings, and modern life, I don’t think I could ever truly understand a place if I wasn’t willing to dive into the things that make it unique.
A beautiful building is just a beautiful building until you discover the story behind it.
At the beginning of this trip, I thought it would be cool to hike my way to these incredible places.
But as I was actually doing it, I realized that the hiking was only part of the journey.
Every climb, every wrong turn, every moment of exhaustion, and every place I reached taught me something. And somehow, standing there in Machu Picchu, surrounded by centuries of history, I realized that maybe that was the whole point. You don’t always get the moment you planned for—you get the moment you’re actually given.
The Right Timing
We spent half the day there, roaming around the ruins. Thea and I even had a quick snack break with the llamas—new bestie alert!
I ended up giving my bus ticket to one of my teammates because she was feeling unwell. I guess part of me also just wanted to spend more time with my friends. And then we started walking down. The thick clouds gathered again, and the sky turned so grey compared to the thirty minutes before, when we were still up there. As they say, you really can’t tell with mountain weather.
I was happily walking down, yapping about the whole experience, half-walking and half-skipping down the stone stairs, when another plot twist happened. Just the story of my life, what can I say? It’s just that iconic, really. A heavy rain came down on us. Drenching me to my bones.
It was June 1st, so it was winter in Peru, and I bet you my lunch for tomorrow that it was absolutely freezing. We stopped for a while to hide from the storm, but honestly, there was no point. So we continued walking down. And yeah… dancing in the rain, baby!
Looking back, though, I was just grateful that we had arrived at Machu Picchu at exactly the right time. The fog had cleared while we were there, and we had already finished our tour by the time the rain started pouring. It genuinely felt like we were there at the right place and the right time.
And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
And here we come, my review of this life decision for this trip :
Fog obsession: 11/10
Emotional reflection: 8.5/10
Llama friendship: 10/10
Ability of Peru to give me plot twists: apparently unlimited/10
Chance that I would willingly hike again despite complaining about hiking: 100%
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