In some ways, today was the final day of our trek. While we wouldn’t reach Machu Picchu just yet, we would get to the tourist village of Aguas Calientes at the foot of the mountain on which the citadel is built. There, we would stay in a hotel for the night and trek up to Machu Picchu the following day at varying time slots. In other words, today was the last day of jungle and remote village trekking, and we were all eager to make the most of it.
The day began like every other: warm coca tea, pack up, have breakfast, and leave. However, this morning felt eerily unfamiliar, even empty. We were missing some group members and the remaining 5 of us had merged with another, mostly younger, mostly male group. The vibe was entirely different than before. There were new people among us, most of whom we hadn’t officially met. I couldn’t help but notice the us-versus-them feeling in the air as we went about our morning routine in our segregated clusters.
Nevertheless, we were excited for the day and soon got going. As we set off, we gradually met most of the group, engaging in brief friendly conversations while strolling along the lush pathways. These chats quickly dwindled as the steep incline demanded our breath. We were on an official Inca trail, a path lined with stone steps that would take us to the top of the mountain before us. With the group mostly consisting of testosterone-filled males in their 20s, there was an unspoken race to the summit. Olly, in his early 30s with a military background, certainly seemed like he had a lesson for the younger lads. I wasn’t immune to this social pressure and fully engaged in the race too, as did Felicity. The pace of the climb was brutal, and when we finally arrived at the little cafe near the top where we had agreed to meet, we were all drenched in sweat. At the top we caught our breath, regrouped, and enjoyed the breathtaking view before crossing over to the other side of the mountain.
The terrain flattened as we continued through the lush jungle. As we emerged from the dense foliage, our guide stopped us to announce that we had reached our first Inca ruin. He gave us a brief history of the ruins and an introduction to the Incas. Though the ruins and stories were undoubtedly fascinating, they were vastly overshadowed by the breathtaking views of the surrounding mountain ranges. The guide emphasized not getting distracted by the view at that moment, promising an even better one shortly after the ruins. Despite his advice, the misty morning over the stunning mountains made it hard to focus solely on the ruins.
It was a short hike further up to reach the viewpoint where we would finally catch a distant glimpse of what we had spent four days walking towards—the infamous Machu Picchu. Though I had seen countless pictures of Machu Picchu up close before, they generally neglect capturing the breathtaking beauty of the surrounding landscape. Even without an awe-inspiring ancient ruin perched atop one of the mountains in the far distance, this sight would still be among the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen. I was stunned, speechless, and pretty sure I wasn’t blinking for quite some time as I stared into the distance. Nothing prepares you for the experience of beholding a wonder of the world. It’s like encountering a celebrity of nature. Something you’ve heard so much about, and then finally get to see it in real life.You realise how exponentially more vivid an in person encounter is.
After spending ample time at the viewpoint for a production-grade photoshoot, we set off to continue our descent into the valley. The path down was a steep, muddy switchback with few views to speak of. Anton and I enjoyed racing downhill, so we led the charge. We meandered through the valley and eventually reached the train station that connects Cusco to Machu Picchu. Bustling with tourists, we were instantly transported back to civilization.
This summarises most of the day. Wet and muddy. 
Anton and I were the first down and waited for the crew on this bridge. 
As we reached the valley floor, evidence of our final destination became more frequent. 
The mountains surround us once more. On top of one of these mountains somewhere lies the citadel. 
Reaching the railway station where tourists take the train to Aguas Callientes
The train station is the gateway to Aguas Calientes. There are no roads leading to this little village in the valley below Machu Picchu. It is only accessible by train or on foot. We were now also met by the floods of tourists that come to visit Machu Picchu, luckily most are taking the train, which allowed us some solitude as we walked the last 10km. The final stretch was flat but had a unique charm as we walked along the train tracks meandering through the picturesque landscape. A few local villagers sold trinkets and other small items that would attract a gaze or two, as we strolled by. However, when we passed a lady selling fruit ice lollies, we all slammed the brakes and immediately queued up.
As we gradually started walking again the group started to spread out, walking either alone or in pairs. The journey was nearing its end, and I was reflecting on the last few days. It had been a soulful journey, trudging over incredibly high peaks to meet the ancient trails of the Incas, and finding ourselves amidst the mountains of one of the most renowned cities of the Incan empire. This journey probably means as much today, though in different ways, as it did centuries ago. I’d like to think the others were also reflecting on this, which is why they had gone quiet and distant. Or, perhaps everyone was simply just tired.
The enchanting 10km walk to Aguas Calientes. 
Thinking back, I wonder what this bridge is since there are no roads here. 
The ever present majestic mountains all around. 
Olly on the final stretch. 
We were encountering a lot more people now that we’ve intersected with the non-5-day-hikers. 
Tomorrow we will ascend one of these peaks to reach our grand finale. 
Just another picture of a curving railway line for good measure.
We soon arrived at the bustling town of Aguas Calientes, and I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. The journey had come to an end, but with it came a wave of luxuries we had been deprived of for the past few days. Once again, the group split up, leaving just the five of us from the original group staying in the same hotel. Raj, Anton, and I shared a triple room, while Oliver and Felicity had their own. Our room felt far too clean for four-day-hiking-in-the-same-clothes folks. A refreshing shower and clean underwear brought us one step closer to being presentable in society. After the thorough scrubbing session, we went out for a final dinner together. It was a pleasant evening, but we were all tired and eagerly anticipating our luxuriously warm and comfortable beds.
