7. My Machu Picchu

The Inca Trail ended with a narrow, well-worn path that climbed a near-vertical flight of 50 steps that led to the Sun Gate. Below was Machu Picchu—vast, mysterious, breathtakingly beautiful, and deserted. I was alone. The tourists were gone for the day. The sun was splashing its last rays over hundreds of empty plazas, houses, platforms, and temples. Stitching them together, perfectly cut, interlocking stones allowed not so much as a knife blade to slide between them. Throughout, blazing emerald-green squares carpeted the ground, while stony gray ribbons framed agricultural terraces leaning against hillsides like collapsing stacks of books. (100)