Sacred Valley & Machu Picchu: 2-Day Tour with Train & Hotel

4.97

(233 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I’ll admit it — I was a little nervous when our driver picked us up in Cusco. Something about leaving the city so early, winding up into the Sacred Valley, makes you feel like you’re stepping into some old story. The air got colder but cleaner as we climbed. At Chinchero market, I tried bargaining for a scarf (not my strong suit), and the woman selling it just grinned and wrapped it around my neck anyway. She smelled faintly of eucalyptus leaves — or maybe that was just the breeze coming off the hills. Our guide, Diego, showed us how they still use natural dyes for weaving. I couldn’t remember half the plant names he rattled off, but I liked that he cared enough to explain them all.

Moray’s terraces looked almost unreal in the morning light — like green fingerprints pressed into earth. Diego said the Incas experimented here with crops at different altitudes. It’s funny how practical genius can look so beautiful by accident. The Maras salt mines were next; rows and rows of white pools glinting under a sky that kept changing its mind about rain. You could taste salt in the air if you breathed deep enough. Lunch in Urubamba was buffet style — I tried alpaca stew (not bad) and way too many potatoes. After Ollantaytambo’s fortress (where kids played soccer right beside ancient walls), we caught the afternoon train to Aguas Calientes. Watching mountains flicker past through smudged windows made me weirdly quiet for a while.

The next morning started before sunrise — not my best hour, honestly — but there’s something about joining a sleepy line of travelers waiting for that first bus up to Machu Picchu that makes you feel part of something bigger. Our local guide led us through misty stone corridors and pointed out spots where llamas had left their own opinions on history (watch your step). He told stories about Pachacutec and lost cities; I only half-listened sometimes because I was busy staring at clouds drifting over those sharp green peaks.

Afterwards, we had some time to wander alone through Machu Picchu’s terraces. I sat on a low wall for a while just watching sunlight move across stone — sounds corny now but it felt important then. On the way back down to Aguas Calientes, someone joked about soaking our tired feet in the hot springs (I chickened out; maybe next time). The train ride back toward Cusco felt slower somehow, like nobody really wanted it to end yet.