“No problem. We’ll just hit up the ATM and restock before dinner,” we thought. Easier said than done. The one operational ATM in town was currently out of cash, on a Friday night, and wouldn’t be restocked until Monday. Interesting.

Heading back to the main drag of town we tried to find the cheapest dinner possible, which happened to be a set menu of Mexican food. Apparently Peruvians think Mexicans deep fry everything, because we got plates full of fried goodies includingtoceños; fried wonton-like sticks with cheese in the middle. Not sure what’s Mexican about that, but who’s counting?

Back at the hostel we waited for the manager to return to ensure that someone would be awake at 4am to lock up our packs for the day. Hours passed and she still hadn’t returned. Conor (the most experienced Spanish-speaker of the bunch) spent 45 minutes crafting a letter to leave under the admin door.

Naturally, minutes after he completed it, she came back. Haha! Our rooms were basically in an apt. building and Bobbi and my room shared a window as a wall with a local family. (Looking behind the curtain we could literally watch them eat dinner.) We came to find out that they like to play American 80’s pop music really loud late at night and are prone to domestic disputes and throwing furniture. Not the best night of sleep ever.

But we shook it off when we got up at 4am and were stoked to finally make the accent to Machu Picchu. There was already a line at the bus station so in the rain and cold we jointed the crowd. Then Craig noticed a curious sign stating that travelers MUST purchase MP admission tickets in Auguas Calintes. This was curious considering our guide book made it very clear that tickets could be purchased to the entrance. We asked around and yes, we needed to buy tickets here before boarding the bus.

With time wasting away, Conor and Bobbi ran to the Cultural Center for tickets. Again, despite what our guide book told us, they did not accept USD or credit cards and we were fresh out of soles. Naturally, both the exchange offices in town were closed. By chance a jewelry store was open (why at 4:30am!?!) and the owner agreed help out. He slowly examined every bill and those with creases or tears were rendered unexchangable.

The buses began to fill up as Craig and I stepped out of line to wait. Conor and Bobbi arrived winded after sprinting from the jewelry store to the Cultural Center and back to the bus station.

We ended up on the 5th bus of the morning and as we drove out of town we could finally relax. It was only 5:20am.

The ride up the mountain was all super-sharp switch-backs and in the rain and fog it was slow going.

When we finally arrived at the entrance to Machu Picchu, we truly felt that we had earned the right to see this place. (But with the thick fog we wondered how much we’d actually get to see).

*At the end of day as we walked back to the bus, we passed an admin office. We were shocked (and horrified) to see admission tickets for sale.