This one's for you: Nan's thoughts on Machu Picchu





It is quite a hike, but quite a view looking down from Wayna Picchu




There is a lot to say about Machu Picchu... more than could fit into one joint post.  When the morning clouds finally dissapated and the full scope of the site was revealed beneath us, it was breathtaking.  There had been concerns that while it would definitely be cool, it might not live up to naturally high expectations.... yeah, not an issue.  While I could go on and on about the stunning achievment of architecture and agricultural planning, it´s not really what is sticking with me.  I´ll start by saying this was a surprisingly very personal experience, which is not at all what I was expecting, and in general pretty atypical for me.  (Basically, this post is awkwardly emotional.  You´ve been warned.)

In the early stages of planning this whole trip, a visit to Machu Picchu was a given.  We were going to be in Peru.  We had to go.  End of story... until I talked to my Dad just a few days before leaving.  He made a passing comment about how my Grandmother had always wanted to visit Machu Picchu.  This very small detail, that she had always wanted to do something I was about to do, struck me in such an unexpected way.  My Grandmother passed away when I was seventeen.  I never knew her as an adult.  I don´t know much about her as a person, especially her as a young woman, only as Grandma.  I was (and still am) filled with so many questions about her.  I have many memories, and it might be a fools errand to try an figure out who she was through these small fragments, but the more I think about what I do know, the more I am struck with how much of her there is in me.  No, I don´t save all my yogurt containers and I don´t attempt to get every single last morsel out of a seemingly empty jar with a spatula, but the more I think about it... I have a sneaking suspicion that we are alike in many ways.  First of all, she was as stubborn and opinionated as all hell... so, there´s that, but she was also very creative (always working on a project), she loved to travel and see new things, she could make a damn fine breakfast, and in ways very unique to her, she really loved her family. 

These last two weeks I have found myself wondering what our relationship would be like if she were still here.  She was certainly more traditional than I am, and as such might have raised eyebrows about some of my choices, but the travel... that she would be into.  There would have been many phone conversations leading up to this trip.  She was a teacher, and would have been so excited to tell me all that she knew about Peru and Machu Picchu.  I still very fondly recall the time in fifth grade when I told her I was learning about the Incas.  She was always interested in what I was leaning at school, but talking about the Incas with me, she was ecstatic.  It would have been so nice to have the second part of that conversation, fifteen years later. 

She and my Grandpa did a lot of traveling later in life, both driving across the US, and going on several cruises.  One cruise through the Panama Canal even got her to South America (where she did get the South American emeralds she had always wanted), but she never quite made it to Machu Picchu. 

Until now.  That is her granddaughter.... and that is her scarf.   We made the trip together... and I really hope she enjoyed the view. 

And this is what I love about travel.  The experience itself and what you take away are never what you expect.  I don´t know that I buy into the concept of travel as a chance to find yourself.  You can´t plan or orchestrate that.  Sometimes though, if you are lucky, and I certainly have been... you will see, learn, or feel something new that connects you back to something that was always there.