Marcahuasi:
A Hidden Andean Sanctuary Above the Clouds

More Than a Destination, a Portal to the Sacred

While most travelers to Peru find themselves in the well-worn paths of Cusco and the Sacred Valley, few have heard of Marcahuasi, a mystical stone forest hidden high in the Andes just a few hours from Lima. Perched at 4,000 meters above sea level, this ancient plateau feels less like a tourist destination and more like a portal: to history, to nature, and perhaps even to something otherworldly.

We set out from Lima early one May morning—my partner, Leo, two close friends, Rolo and Kendy, and I—with little more than backpacks, thermoses, and a quiet craving for adventure. What followed was a two-day, one-night journey that would test our lungs, expand our perspectives, and introduce us to a sacred rhythm of land and stars.

Getting There: Lima to San Pedro de Casta

Our trip began in Lima at 7 a.m., when we caught a colectivo to Chosica. The hour-long ride brought us to Parque Echenique, a bustling plaza where locals and travelers alike gather for food and connections. We grabbed a quick breakfast—fresh juice and warm bread rolls—then boarded a microbus headed for San Pedro de Casta, a small village nestled at 3,180 meters above sea level.

The ride, which lasted about three hours, climbed steadily into the green folds of the Andes. May is an excellent month to visit: the rainy season has just ended, leaving behind lush hillsides and full creeks, but skies are generally clearer and temperatures more manageable.

San Pedro de Casta, a quiet and humble village, welcomed us with bright sun and cooler air. Locals received us with warmth and curiosity. For lunch, we indulged in crispy fried trout served with a simple salad, a staple in many Andean villages. It was hearty, fresh, and gave us the energy we needed for the next leg of our journey: the hike up to Marcahuasi.

The Ascent: Choosing the Long Way

From the village, two main paths lead to the plateau: the steep "short route" and the more gradual "long route." At a fork in the road, two weathered wooden signs marked the options. We decided on the long trail, which is less strenuous and follows a dirt track used by locals and their burros. This path offered us a gentler ascent, allowing our bodies to acclimate as we climbed roughly 800 meters over the next three hours.

The views were worth every step. As we ascended, the valley opened behind us, revealing dramatic ridges and distant snowcaps. Along the trail, we passed locals carrying supplies to the top—firewood, tents, and snacks to sell to campers. Some even offered rides in small cars for those who wanted to skip the hike entirely, a good option for anyone concerned about altitude sickness.

As we approached the top, a dense fog began to roll in, cloaking the mountain in silence. Visibility dropped sharply. It felt like walking through a dream, every step guided by instinct and memory rather than sight.

Camping in the Clouds: A Sacred Night Above the World

We reached Marcahuasi's campsite—known as "the amphitheater"—just as the temperature began to dip. The clouds around us were thick, and we could only see a few meters ahead. Locals told us this often happens during this time of year, but the fog almost always clears eventually—and we held onto that hope.

We quickly set up our tents and rented thick Andean blankets (the iconic Peruvian "tiger blankets") and sleeping mats from local vendors who make the trek up weekly.

As darkness fell, we struggled to start a fire in the moist, oxygen-thin air. But eventually, flames took hold, and we huddled together with mugs of hot tea and packets of soup. The fog was relentless, concealing the famed night sky. Still, we waited, hopeful.

Around midnight, our patience was rewarded. The sky opened suddenly, revealing a cosmic masterpiece: stars spilled across the sky, with the Milky Way streaking from one horizon to the other. We saw shooting stars and constellations we never knew existed. Marcahuasi is famous for its clear skies and astronomical visibility, and some say it is also a hotspot for UFO sightings. Local legends abound of strange lights and unexplainable phenomena—stories we heard whispered around the campsite, adding a surreal flavor to the night.

I couldn't stay outside long. The altitude had caught up with me. My head throbbed and nausea crept in—a classic case of soroche. I slipped into the tent, bundled myself tightly, and tried to rest while the others lingered around the fire.

Sunrise Over the Clouds

The next morning, the cold lifted with the first glow of dawn. We woke early to hike to a nearby overlook, a cliff's edge that opened into a vast sea of clouds below. The sunrise painted the sky in soft yellows and blues while the mountain shadows stretched and danced. Standing above the clouds was humbling. It felt like floating between worlds.

After breakfast, we packed our gear but left it at the campsite to explore the plateau. Marcahuasi is known for its massive stone formations—some natural, some believed to be sculpted by ancient hands. Faces, animals, and symbols seemed to rise from the earth: a seal here, a human profile there. Some believe these are remnants of a lost civilization, others call it pareidolia—our brains finding patterns in randomness. Either way, it was magical.

We visited the "Fortaleza," an elevated area with commanding views, and several small lakes that mirrored the sky. The trails, however, were poorly marked, and we lost our way more than once. Thankfully, other travelers appeared from various directions, guiding us back to familiar terrain.

The Descent and Final Offerings

At around 10 a.m., we began our descent via the shorter path. This trail is steep and narrow, but also incredibly scenic. It winds past ancient chullpas, pre-Columbian funerary towers built by Andean cultures, and apachetas, small conical piles of stones left by travelers to honor Pachamama (Mother Earth) and the Apus (mountain spirits).

We paused to build our own apacheta to leave an offering—several stones carefully stacked in gratitude, in thanks for protecting us during the steep and challenging stretches of the journey. It’s a ritual shared by generations of Andean people and still practiced today—one that many modern travelers have learned to emulate in an act of humility and respect.

Back in San Pedro de Casta, we ate a final trout lunch and boarded the bus back to Chosica, physically tired but emotionally full.

Why Marcahuasi Matters

Marcahuasi isn’t an easy trip. The altitude is intense, the weather unpredictable, and the trails unclear. But that’s precisely what makes it so special. This isn’t a curated tourist experience; it’s an invitation to connect with nature, with history, and perhaps with the cosmos itself.

If you go, go prepared—physically, mentally, and spiritually. Bring warm clothes, a good sleeping bag, a flashlight, and a respectful heart. Support local vendors. Learn the stories of the land. And if you’re lucky, you might just see more than stars in the night sky.

Have you been to Marcahuasi or dream of going? Let us know!—and if you're planning your trip, pack light, tread gently, and look up.