An even earlier morning today. By 4.30am the porters had us fed, the campsite was packed, and they were off. The group was not allowed to start the final five kilometres of trail until 5.30am, so we lined up for the hour and finished off the final remnants of rum (or, Jeremy, Chris, and Andres did). Every step of the hour following the Checkpoint up to the Sun Gate we hoped it would clear up and there would be less cloud. And it did! For a second it would clear, and then immediately cloud over again. At the Sun Gate, we managed to see Machu Picchu for a split second and then it was gone! So we kept walking, and finally, upon reached in the Gatekeeper's Hut, we saw it: Machu f***ing Picchu. Edwin, after letting us run amok taking photos, led us down to the entrance so we could officially enter the site with all the lazy tourists who took the train, and then he guided back us back up for a two hour tour around the ruins.

I think the most fascinating thing he told us about, aside from their incredible building techniques and prowess, was the Chakana, the Incan Cross. This one symbol represents so many aspects of Incan culture. It represents the three levels of existence: Hana Pacha (upper world), Kay Pacha (our world) amd Urin Pacha (under world). It is supposed to be the Incan equivalent of the Southern Cross, and each quarter represents their work ethic, animals (Condor, Puma, Snake), the three worlds and three rules: Don't lie, don't steal, don't be lazy.

Once we left the mountain (and Joey ran off to climb Huayna Picchu), we enjoyed a super cute group lunch in Aguas Calientes. It was while discussing tips that Jeremy and I finally realised that we had not accounted for the personal porters in our budget and we had left our wallets back in Cusco. Nathan saved us though and leant us 100 soles in case our limited supply ran out (it did). It was also at this restaurant that Jeremy and I received our "I survived Machu Picchu" certificates and said goodbye to our guides.

After leaving the group to hunt down our hostel and rest for an hour, we rejoined them in the hotsprings - such a relief for our aching muscles! Andres became friends with the pool-bar guy and would frequently jump up, wave his arms, and shout "Carlos!" (much to our amusement) and drinks would promptly arrive. Apparently he was quite drunk on the train back to Cusco that night, go figure.

We ended this mammoth day with a very cheap set menu (all we could afford) with Mansi and the guys. Three courses, a pisco sour, and nachos for a mere 15 soles each. Winning!