So far on this trip I’ve tried to keep the blog chronological, writing as I go so as to remember the little things that otherwise go forgotten.

I think the last place I blogged about was Buenos Aires, Argentina. I’m now in Aguas Calientes, Peru and have visited both Chile and Bolivia since Argentina so it’s safe to say I’ve fallen behind slightly.

Today though, I definitely feel the need to break the chronology, simply because…

Machu Picchu!

 MPThis photo isn’t from Google, I captured it today and I am by no means any kind of photographer, but Machu Picchu is one of those places/things that it’s just impossible to take a bad photo of.

It’s the second time I’ve visited and I still can’t get over the complete beauty of the citadel! The first time, back in 2011 I was a fresh-faced eighteen-year old on her first solo trip abroad, amazed and inspired by every single minute detail of this new and exciting country. Now, four years and eleven months later, I’m a slightly more withered twenty-three year old who’s seen a lot more of the world and life, so naturally am a little harder to impress.

And Machu Picchu… well, I’m not ashamed to say I was actually moved to tears by the sight of it this morning!

I think it was a combination of over-tiredness, the overwhelming beauty of the place and the sensation of coming home. Evidently I wasn’t really coming home – I was born in Church Village hospital, the Rhondda Valleys, not in an ancient citadel located in the middle of the Peruvian wilderness. But yeah, Peru was the first place I ventured to alone. Peruvian people were the first to quite literally welcome me with open arms. Peruvian food was the first to give me food poisoning. Machu Picchu was the first sight to actually take my breath away. This country, its wonderful people, its rich culture and history and its absolutely stunning locations is somewhere I will always come back to. And it will always feel like home to me.


Hi, I'm Rhiannon and my name is Welsh, not Irish as many have been known to believe. You'll more often than not find me on some mode of public transportation, earphones in, book about serial killers in one hand and can of full-fat coke in the other. I have the heart and soul of a traveller but the bank account of Oliver Twist, which causes me deep pain if I'm completely honest.

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