It was just that day when everything went wrong

Machu Picchu is remarkably remote and no road can take you all the way to the town at foot of the mountain. Either you can walk on the Inka-trail or alternatively, go via the railway that is squeezed in along the river next to adjacent vertical mountain walls.
Expensive train prices makes your wallet cry over the visit but slightly cheaper approaches exist if you have the patience of going half-way in a car (or more) and take a train from there. Not totally surprisingly, I chose to venture up in the mountains on a six to seven hour long jeep journey on small narrow roads to save a few dollars. And you get what you pay for.
On the trip back, the train left three hours after scheduled time due to landslides from the mountain. Workers had to go out to clean the rails from falling stones before the train could take off. Everyone had spent four hours in a jam-packed train and was very tired when we finally made it to the cars at the next station.
Unfortunately, just a little bit later, the same thing happened on the road. The road was twice blocked by large stones falling down along the mountain slope. At both locations, the passengers had to get off and cross on foot, after which the jeep made an attempt to drive over the stones without falling down the ravine.
The second event was most exciting as the landslide was still active. The first people started to cross the stones when blocks, some large as footballs, started to roll down the mountain, swishing between the legs. The people quickly had to retreat and wait until stones stopped falling. Several times crossing attempts failed but a couple of hours later, everyone had managed to run across without getting hit by a block of stone. Even the car finally made it and we could continue back to Cusco.
Instead of arriving at 8pm as anticipated, we got back at 3am in the morning and we missed out on a great(?) Saturday night out in Cusco. But experiencing the landslides, I say it was almost worth it. Afterwards.