Machu Picchu
We were up at four on the final day of our Inca trail trip, our
anticipation for Machu Picchu undampened despite the unrelenting rain and the
4am start. We were treated to our (not
at all) light breakfast before joining the cue of trekkers waiting for the
final section of trail to open. All the
while remembering Jason in our prayers for his thoughtful and immensely
practical gift of sturdy rain ponchos.
For the first time in four days the rain and cloud were persistent,
enclosing the paths and obscuring what I imagine were spectacular views. Our day brightened when we reached the Sun Gate. Not that it fulfilled its promise of spectacular
first views of Machu Picchu. No, the
Incas would be subject to the consumer protection act if Peru had one. Both the Sun Gate and the mountain city were
in solid white cloud. As it happened we
met up with Jim, who had started the hike with us on day one, before
being struck down by a diarrhoea bug on the second morning and being consigned
to a nauseating horseback return and three days convalescing in Ollantaytambo.
Once again a whole group, we proceeded down the trail, the occasional
teasing glimpse of Inca architecture enticing us through the cloud. We arrived in Machu Pichu with the cloud lifting. Only a little bit but enough to give an
atmospheric overview of the site as it began to fill with the day-trippers. Our guides led us to the prime look-out spot
with the postcard views for our photos and we duly obliged, snapping away
happily.
Kiz and I had discussed our photographic differences on numerous
occasions throughout the trip. Kizzy
likes to have the photos but finds the process distressing. In her mind, insisting on “just one more”
qualifies as harassment. Somewhere between
the third and fourth photo of the day her co-operation deteriorates and it’s
all gone by the fifth.
I on the other hand, like photos.
I like taking them and I like to be in them. It is a legacy of the Wendy Gardiner
upbringing. Two weeks after she switched
from 35mm film to digital, the local photo shop closed down. She didn’t just take a lot of photos of us
growing up, she was pretty bloody particular about them too. We used to have Japanese exchange students at
our school and after two weeks at our place mum would have them smiling in
photos. This was a big deal. I was subjected to 20 years of psychological
conditioning to co-operate with the person with the camera.
I only mention all of this to give some context. To explain why when Jim pointed the camera at
Kizzy and me to take the classic Machu Picchu shot and said “take a step to the
right”, I did so without hesitation. And
promptly stepped straight off the side of the lookout ledge.
I dropped like a stone, straight out of shot. Bloody Jim got such a scare he didn’t even
take the photo. He didn’t grow up with
Wendy Gardiner.
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