For centuries, a gem left over from the South American Inca Empire lay hidden from the world in Peru.
The 15th century city of Machu Picchu lay in the Andean mountains just sitting there in perfect harmony with mother earth – or Pacha Mama as it is referred to in Peru – until 1911 when US professor Hiram Bingham discovered it by accident.
Now, the Inca city is one of the top destinations in the world for tourists and intrepid explorers who take on the Inca trail hike.
For me, it was the jewel in the crown of a self-appointed sabbatical from the normal working life back home in Europe.
To me, the mystery surrounding it absolutely added to its appeal. Not much is known of Machu Picchu. It is presumed by some historians that it was a city for the Inca emperor Pachacuti.
But then it is not known why it was suddenly abandoned. Spanish colonialization is given as a reason, but the invading forces destroyed much of what they saw as native heresy. Yet much of Machu Picchu is startlingly well preserved.
When I used to day dream of escaping from my seat in front of a computer, it was usually an image of Machu Picchu that sprang to mind. Something so far removed from what we regard as western civilization held an immeasurable appeal.
So it continued to be every step of the way on the four day hike to the site, starting from near Aguas Calientes.
The inclines were steep, no more so than on day two on the passage up to Dead Woman’s Pass. Such was my determination that my resistance to having a break on the first hour and a half of the day’s expedition came back to haunt me when my thighs started to spasm on the final incline.
I made it to the top though, an elevation of 4,200m above sea level, with two other members of my group in a time of 2 hours and 8 minutes. We were told the average time to reach the summit from our campsite was around 6 hours.
So it came to pass that it was as much about the journey to Machu Picchu than the site itself. I reveled in the times I found myself alone on the trail, occasionally being overtaken by the ridiculously fast and superhuman-like porters. The escape I had craved was all around me, just the Peruvian mountains as my guide.
For me, I can’t quite put it down to a single reason. A number of situations came to a head in 2015 where I found myself walking down a street in central London thinking, I need to get away from this for a while.
People have different motivations for travelling and come away with different experiences. The old cliché of ‘finding oneself’ has become a bit of a joke nowadays but it is not without its truth.
When escaping to whatever sanctuary one may find, whether that is in Peru, Asia, or Cornwall or a football match, or a piece of music, it reminds us of who we are, giving us the validation of being a human being.
So much of that is taken away in our daily quest for money and status. For some, that may be who they are and good luck to them. But with that comes stress and anxiety, mental health issues, negative qualities that may in turn hurt people who we hold dear.
The Incas may not have been perfect. But they were so content as a civilization they could live on a small mountain top hundreds of miles away from the nearest city.
The perfect structures dotted in and around around Machu Picchu when I eagerly arrived on the fourth day astounded me, as did the news about how they made use of aquaducts they had constructed and used their high ascent to their agricultural advantage. It’s not that we know more nowadays, we simply have found easier ways of doing things.
Leaving the site I never wanted to take my eyes off it, fearing that once I did it would simply become just a memory in my head. But it is a memory I will treasure for reasons beyond words I could describe on this page.