I Remember What Machu Picchu Was Like Before Facebook

I didn’t go to Peru to “find myself,” I went there to escape everyone else

It’s possible to see the world for very little if you’re willing to learn to live like the locals. The above picture is from around 2004 or 2005. Machu Picchu wasn’t the big deal then that it is now. I’m not saying I “discovered” it or anything, but I remember going there and having the place pretty much to myself.

Now it’s nuts. It’s been nuts since 2007 when the “7 wonders of the modern world” were announced. Also, Facebook was launched in 2004, but it took it a few years to become a worldwide sensation. I think all the Facebook posts of people at Machu Picchu have driven a lot of traffic to Peru.

Now it’s kind of like the South American version of Disneyland.

I first went to Peru in 2001 and I didn’t make it to Machu Picchu until two or three years later. I didn’t go to Peru to see Machu Picchu. I followed a girl who I’d met on the beach in Seattle. My time in Peru outlasted that relationship. I stayed until 2009.

In the above picture, I’m carrying everything that I used to take with me when I traveled. You can’t really see it, but I’m wearing a small satchel. I used to fill the satchel with a couple of extra T-shirts, a couple of extra pairs of socks and underwear, and a pair of swim trunks that I would wear when I was washing everything else.

Back in those days, I never knew if I’d have to walk 20 miles because a bus broke down or the local trains went on strike. I did my first marathon when I was 19. I kind of like basic stuff like that.

Go out. Run all day. Come home. Rest.

Basic.

I’m also wearing a pair of army pants I bought for something like 6 bucks at the Army Navy Surplus Store (do they still have stores like that?).

Those pants were great and they had the name tag “Kinter” over the right back pocket. When I bought them they were too small and I needed a belt. By the time I was done traveling, I’d fattened up a bit, but they still fit.

There were a lot of nights I was happy to have those pants because I stayed at cold hotels at altitude and was able to sleep in my pants. They were almost as comfortable as a pair of sweat pants, but they never ripped or snagged on anything. After ten years of traveling, they still looked like they did when I bought them.

Nobody likes the fanny pack, but it gave me peace of mind. I bought it from a street vendor in Cusco for a few Nuevo Soles. I kept my passport in it and could stuff it under my shirt. In places where pickpockets are commonplace, you see a lot of people with fanny packs.

They’re super useful. It was function over fashion for me in those days.

I was doing pretty good by the time the above picture was taken. When I first moved to Peru, I got myself a jean jacket. I got my first jean jacket when I was about 8 and I got beat up the only time I wore it.

I was kind of hoping for my peers to say, “Hey! Nice jean jacket.”

Instead, they said, “Hey! He’s got a jean jacket! Let’s get him.”

So, I ran and of course, I fell and they kicked the stuffing out of me. I didn’t wear that jean jacket after that. My mom was confused by this, “Why aren’t you wearing your jean jacket? Don’t you like it?”

But I wouldn’t answer and eventually, she stopped pestering me.

Even when I was in my early twenties, it was a big deal for me to go into a store and buy a jean jacket. It scared me. I wore it for a couple of years before I got over my anxiety and was able to buy a leather jacket.

A leather jacket is actually a really nice choice for travel wear. It’s a tough material and it keeps the weather off you. Even if you get caught in the rain, the jacket doesn’t really soak through, and it protects you from the wind.

There were nights in cold hotels where I was thankful for both my leather jacket and my army pants.

My shoes were these lightweight half-hiking boots/half-tennis shoes. They were a bit of a pain to lace up, but they were an adequate option on almost any surface. They were also leather. Leather keeps the water off you and can take a lot of punishment.

I still have those shoes, that jacket, and those pants. Someday they’ll end up in a landfill with my ashes I suppose.

When rich people go to Machu Picchu, they hire a guide and the guide drives them around. I don’t do it that way. I go directly to the web page and get my own tickets. I haggle with locals over the cost of transportation.

I took a friend of mine to Machu Picchu a couple of years ago. He kept insisting on buying dinner.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.

“I did the research on how much this trip would cost,” he said.

“So?”

“You’re literally saving me a thousand dollars a day.”

“Oh!”

I went to Peru to escape quite a few things. I wasn’t happy with myself. I wasn’t happy with anyone I knew.

Peru was a nice option. It put everyone at a nice and manageable distance. I still had to worry about people holding me down and kicking the stuffing out of me, but at least it wouldn’t be anyone I was related to. The strange thing is, that makes a beating less likely to happen.

My family thought I was nuts.

“You’re going to get killed down there!”

“I could get killed anywhere. At least down here, I’ll see it coming.”

They didn’t know what I meant.

I learned Spanish. I learned how to ride buses across the country for pennies.

My posture got better. You can kind of see it in this picture. I’m standing straight. I always used to be hunched over.

I’d finally cut my hair. When I was in high school my hair was shoulder length and greasy. That was kind of what was expected of me. I was considered a “burn out” even though I ended up graduating 6th in my class. Nothing I actually did made any impact on the impression people had of me. I was a burn out and a burn out I would remain.

I managed to live in Peru for so long because it cost nothing. I spent a couple of grand a year. I don’t think it’s like that anymore, sadly. What a joy it was to discover a place to live that was almost free.

I didn’t have any health insurance. That was a risk. But I didn’t pay for health insurance for 10 years. That was a big saving.

Sometimes we place big bets without even recognizing it. I guess I won that one.

I traveled by dusty bus. I hiked. I slept in cheap rooms. I learned Spanish. I met marvelous people from all over the world who don’t think like they think in the United States of America.

Pretty much every minute of it was great. There were a few bad minutes, 12 or so, maybe as few as 9.

I grew in confidence and that was probably the best part. I stopped suffering in my own mind. I came back from a dark place. You can tell in the above photo. I feel good in that photo. Things were going well.

Occasionally during those years, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. I wondered if I would regret not making progress at some corporation. I’d undoubtedly be making more money now if I’d gone straight to a cubicle after college.

If I’d survived.

There has never been a minute that I’ve regretted pulling on my second-hand army pants and picking up my satchel (I also got the satchel at a discount store, I get everything at discount stores).

I’ve hiked to the top of Wayna Picchu in the rain. I’ve passed rich people in designer clothing arguing with their guides about how it’s too dangerous to climb to the top in the middle of a storm.

Those people probably go home and are invited to the local television station to discuss their latest book. They’re invited to fancy parties. They win awards.

Meanwhile, I just keep living.

Also, I’m the one who stood at the top of Huayna Picchu in the rain when the guides insisted the fancy folk must return to their hotels.

Few people know what freedom actually feels like.

Even rich people don’t know.

Look at the picture at the top of this article.

That’s freedom.

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