Peru’s Sacred City Reveals Fractured Politics Of Tourism And Transport
As Machu Picchu groans under record visitor numbers, a bitter battle over buses, tickets, and local revenues is turning Peru’s crown jewel into a test case for fair tourism, community rights, and the price of accessing a world heritage icon.
A Mountain City Reached By Rails And Rumbling Buses
High above the Urubamba River, Machu Picchu draws visitors from every corner of the world, a 15th-century Inca citadel turned UNESCO World Heritage Site and Peru’s most famous landmark. Getting there, however, has become almost as contentious as what happens once tourists arrive.
The modern pilgrimage usually starts on rails. Unless they opt for a long hike, visitors must take a train to Aguas Calientes, a town clinging to the valley floor below the ruins. The journey takes between two and three-and-a-half hours. From there, a fleet of green buses grinds up a series of switchbacks to the mountain-top site. The ride is only 20 minutes, but the price of controlling that short stretch of road has become explosive.
For 30 years, that final leg has been dominated by Consettur, a bus company that transports around 4,500 people a day from Aguas Calientes to the ruins. Its head of operations, Cristian Alberto Caballero Chacón, told The BBC that the route is essential: the only alternative for visitors is “an arduous, steep, two-hour walk.” In recent months, though, Consettur has found itself at the centre of a bitter fight over who should profit from the mountain.
Back in September, anger flared when Consettur lost its licence in a bidding process that many locals viewed as opaque. The right to operate the lucrative service was due to pass to a new firm, San Antonio de Torontoy, based slightly further away in the wider Urubamba Province. Protesters, furious over what they saw as an unfair transfer of a local asset, blocked the railway line to Aguas Calientes with rocks. Some 1,400 tourists were left stranded and had to be evacuated on special trains after authorities cleared the tracks.
Locals Battle Over Who Profits From Peru’s Golden Route
Behind the blockade lies a deeper argument about monopoly, transparency, and local benefit. Some residents, speaking anonymously to The BBC, say frustration has simmered for years over Consettur’s dominant position on what is clearly a money-spinner. A round-trip bus ticket to the ruins costs $24 for foreign visitors and $15 for Peruvians – a hefty sum in a region where many locals live with limited services.
Consettur’s official licence expired in September, yet its buses are still running while the new concession for San Antonio de Torontoy is tied up in court challenges. Caballero insists his firm is not an outsider exploiting the region but an alliance rooted in the valley itself. “The owners of the business have been running the company for the past 30 years, and they are people who come from around here,” he told The BBC. “This is not a monopoly. Consettur is made up of 12 different companies with various partners.” One of those partners is the local district council, which owns 38% of the firm.
Even so, the anger reflects a broader sense that tourism money passes through Aguas Calientes more than it benefits local communities. On a side street lined with souvenir stalls selling fluffy alpacas and woven scarves, Dina Huillca sits on the pavement selling roses, tomatoes, and mint. She travels in from her village and says, “More needs to be done for the local communities.” Basic services, she explains, are still lacking. “We don’t have basic services like running water or a hospital, and the schools need to be in better condition.”
That sentiment is echoed by the town’s mayor, Elvis La Torre, who is particularly frustrated by the way entry ticket revenues are distributed. A standard adult ticket for Machu Picchu costs $57, but, he says, “only 10% of the ticket sales stay in the region. The rest of the money goes to the Ministry of Culture to look after other archaeological sites around Peru and pay for wages.” He wants a larger share of income to fund local infrastructure and improve the visitor experience in and around Aguas Calientes.
Tourists Face Sticker Shock And A Tangle Of Ticketing
While local communities argue over who should benefit, tourists encounter their own maze of costs and confusion. Australian traveller Annalise Jaksic, speaking to The BBC in Aguas Calientes, said she was stunned by the price of the train journey. The cheapest round-trip ticket costs about $140, rising to an eye-watering $2,000 for luxury first class.
“We thought it was one train all the way to Machu Picchu,” she admitted. “And we thought if there were any more transport to get up there, it would all be included, because you pay so much money for the train.” Instead, visitors must piece together multiple bookings: train, bus, site entry, and, for many, a guided tour.
Her friend and travelling companion, Todd Carland, described buying entry tickets as “a nightmare” because they tried to organise everything independently rather than through an expensive package. For budget-conscious travellers, the experience can feel less like a magical journey and more like an obstacle course of websites, agencies, and surprise add-ons. This highlights the need for clearer information to help tourists feel more confident and valued.
These complaints highlight a central tension: Machu Picchu is both a sacred archaeological site and a carefully monetised product. The current system generates significant revenue for national coffers but leaves tourists feeling overcharged and locals feeling overlooked. If visitors begin to see the visit as poor value, and communities see little return, the long‑term sustainability of the model is in question.
Can Peru’s Government Balance Heritage, Access, And Community Needs
For Carlos González, president of the chamber of tourism for the Department of Cusco, the chaos around buses and ticketing is a symptom of a bigger problem: fragmented oversight. He believes Peru needs a stronger, more coherent state role in managing the country’s most valuable travel assets. “We are pushing for an update in the law so that the vice ministry of tourism can take care of all the travel resources in our country,” he told The BBC. “If we don’t have a unified approach to Peru as a destination, we can’t be competitive in the long term.”
He also argues that the visitor experience at Machu Picchu itself needs to be rethought. Right now, everyone is funnelled through the same routes and viewpoints, whether they are pilgrims seeking spiritual quiet or influencers chasing perfect TikTok clips. González imagines additional entrances and segmented spaces: one area where “spiritual travellers” can gather for meditative rituals, another for younger visitors, “more inclined to do their Tik Toks and their stories for Instagram,” so they can “enjoy themselves in a young fashion” without disturbing others.
Yet ambitious plans collide with harsh political reality. Peru has had six presidents in six years, a churn that makes long-term policy difficult. “I’ve been a leader of the tourism sector for five years now, and I have lost count of how many ministers, vice ministers, and congresspeople I have spoken to,” González said. In such a volatile environment, even widely accepted reforms can languish.
Back in Aguas Calientes, Caballero says Consettur would be happy to share the road if San Antonio de Torontoy finally wins clearance. “If they are given the final approval, we don’t have a problem working with them. We won’t stop them,” he insisted to The BBC. That sounds conciliatory, but it also underscores just how much power operators still wield over the only motorised route up to Peru’s most treasured site.
Machu Picchu will always captivate the imagination. The question now is whether Peru’s leaders, communities, and companies can reshape the way people reach it so that access, profit, and preservation feel less like a zero-sum game. For the stranded tourists of recent months, and the residents who still lack basic services in the shadow of a global icon, the answer cannot come soon enough.
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