First, the Sound
You hear the pututo before you see anything. A low, resonant blast from a conch shell trumpet — not quite a horn, not quite a voice — rolling across the stone courtyard of Qoricancha at something like 7 a.m. on June 24. The sun hasn’t cleared the mountains yet. The air at 3,400 meters is thin and cold enough that your breath hangs visible in front of you, and the crowd packed into the narrow streets around the old temple is already three or four deep.
This is how Inti Raymi starts. Not with pageantry — that comes later — but with a single sound bouncing off colonial-era walls that were built on top of Inca foundations.
A Ceremony That Refused to Stay Dead
The Spanish banned Inti Raymi in 1572. For close to four hundred years, the ceremony existed only in a handful of written accounts — most importantly the chronicles of Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, who was half-Inca himself and wrote from exile in Spain. Whether his descriptions are perfectly accurate is debatable. He was working from childhood memory and secondhand accounts.
But in 1944, a Cusqueño actor named Faustino Espinoza Navarro took those chronicles and staged a reconstruction. The first modern Inti Raymi was apparently a modest affair. Today it involves somewhere around 700 performers (I have seen different numbers cited — some sources say more) and draws crowds that supposedly make it South America’s second-largest festival after Rio Carnival. That comparison gets repeated a lot. Whether it holds up by strict attendance numbers, I honestly do not know, but the scale is genuinely impressive.
Three Acts, Three Locations
Qoricancha — Where It Begins
The day starts at Qoricancha, which was once the most important temple in the entire Inca Empire. The Spanish built the Church of Santo Domingo directly on top of it, which creates this jarring architectural layering — perfectly fitted Inca stonework on the lower walls, colonial baroque above. The Sapa Inca (the emperor, played by an actor selected for the role) emerges in gold and crimson. Priests, noblewomen called ñustas, and warriors in woven costumes surround him. Chicha — corn beer — is offered, and prayers are spoken in Quechua.
The Qoricancha portion is free to watch from the surrounding streets, but ‘free’ is relative. You need to be there early. Very early. The crowd compression in those narrow streets is significant.
Plaza de Armas — The Procession
The royal procession moves through Cusco’s streets to the Plaza de Armas, which the Inca called Haukaypata. This is where the scale hits you. Performers representing the four suyos — the four quarters of the Tawantinsuyu empire — process in elaborate costumes. Pututos, quenas, drums. The Sapa Inca is carried on a golden litter. The plaza, which on a normal day is full of tourists eating pizza and fending off massage offers, transforms completely.
This part is also free, also extremely crowded.
Sacsayhuamán — The Main Event
The climax happens at Sacsayhuamán, the massive stone fortress on the hill above Cusco. The walls here are genuinely staggering — stones weighing up to 200 tonnes fitted together without mortar, with joints so tight you cannot slip a piece of paper between them. Against this backdrop, the full ceremony unfolds. Hundreds of performers enact rituals of gratitude to Inti, the Sun God. There is a symbolic llama sacrifice (no actual harm — the entrail reading is mimed). The Sapa Inca calls upon the sun to return and warm the earth for another agricultural cycle.
As the sun drops behind the Andes, a new sacred fire is lit. The whole thing takes several hours.
The Ticket Situation
Here is where it gets slightly annoying. The main grandstand seating at Sacsayhuamán requires purchased tickets, and they sell out well in advance — we are talking months ahead, not weeks. Check with official Cusco tourism agencies (COSITUC or EMUFEC are the names you will encounter) as early as possible.
The good news: there is free viewing from the hillsides surrounding the fortress. Many locals and repeat visitors actually prefer this. The panoramic perspective is arguably better than the grandstand view, which can feel like watching a stage show, while from the hillside you see the ceremony against the full sweep of the valley. The trade-off is comfort — you are sitting on grass and rocks, no assigned seat, no shade.
The Qoricancha and Plaza de Armas portions are free but require patience and early arrival.
If you want to skip the logistics headache entirely, GetYourGuide has guided Inti Raymi experiences that handle the Sacsayhuamán access and transport. Not cheap, but it means you do not have to figure out the ticketing system yourself.
The Week Around June 24
Inti Raymi is not just one day. The week leading up to June 24 fills Cusco with parades, folk dances, concerts, and markets centered on the Plaza de Armas. Local communities stage their own smaller ceremonies. The night of June 23 is worth experiencing on its own — bonfires burn across the city as Cusqueños welcome the solstice. Some of these traditions are older than the Inca Empire itself, rooted in agricultural cycles that predate any centralized state.
The atmosphere in Cusco during this week is genuinely different from the rest of the year. The city feels like it belongs to Cusqueños rather than tourists, even though there are plenty of both.
The Altitude Problem
This needs its own section because altitude sickness can genuinely wreck your trip. Cusco sits at 3,400 meters — about 11,150 feet. That is high enough that most people coming from sea level will feel something: headache, shortness of breath, fatigue, maybe nausea.
Arrive at least two days before Inti Raymi. Drink water constantly. Avoid alcohol and heavy meals for the first day. Coca tea — mate de coca — is everywhere and it does help, though how much is debatable. If you are flying in from Lima (sea level), consider spending a night in the Sacred Valley first, which sits around 2,800 meters and gives your body a gentler transition.
I have read accounts from people who ignored the acclimatization advice and spent Inti Raymi in their hotel room feeling terrible. Do not be that person.
What to Wear (It Is Winter)
June is winter in the southern hemisphere, and Cusco feels it. Daytime temperatures with sun can reach 15-20°C, which is pleasant enough in a light jacket. But mornings and evenings drop near freezing. The ceremony at Sacsayhuamán runs into the evening.
Layers. Warm jacket for after sunset. Sun protection — this is critical and counterintuitive. The high-altitude sun is fierce even in winter, and you will be outdoors for hours. Sunburn at Inti Raymi is extremely common among visitors.
Combining with Machu Picchu
Most people visiting Cusco also want to see Machu Picchu, which is roughly four hours away by train through the Sacred Valley. June is peak season, so book entry tickets and train tickets well in advance. Consider visiting Machu Picchu before or after the Inti Raymi week to avoid the most concentrated crowds.
Trip.com and KLOOK both offer Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu packages that bundle transport and entry. Worth comparing prices — they fluctuate quite a bit depending on the season and how far ahead you book.
The Quechua Question
The entire ceremony is performed in Quechua. You will not understand a word unless you speak it, and almost no foreign visitors do. This does not matter as much as you might think. The spectacle communicates across language — the costumes, the music, the ritualized movements carry meaning on their own. Some tour agencies offer guided viewing with live commentary, which can be helpful for context but is not essential.
What strikes most visitors, I think, is not the spectacle itself but the realization of what it represents. A ceremony that the Spanish colonial government tried to erase in 1572 is now performed every year by hundreds of people in the same city where it was banned. The actors speak the same language. The fortress walls are the same walls. That kind of cultural stubbornness is hard to fake, and standing at Sacsayhuamán you can feel it — though I am not sure ‘feel’ is the right word. It just sits with you.
The walk back down the hill to Cusco after the ceremony ends takes about twenty minutes. The streets are full of people, the restaurants are packed, and your legs are sore from sitting on a hillside for four hours. Somewhere on Calle Plateros someone is playing a quena. By the time you reach the Plaza de Armas it is dark, and the same square that hosted thousands of costumed performers that morning is full of people eating ceviche and checking their phones.