Teetering on the brink of the precipice...or at least sort of

So last time I was rambling on the very first day, that seemed an eternity. I forgot to mention one of the highlights of that day: the gastronomy. I had only recently found out that Peru, or more accurately Lima was the American capital of gastronomy, and I must admit that I feel ashamed of my ignorance of this fact. The food we ate at El Bolivariano restaurant in Lima, was my first impression of the DIVINE cuisine of this country. There were countless dishes, some of which I recall to be papas a la huancaina, lomo saltado, causa, anticuchos, and others that left my taste buds in a state of flavorful exhilaration. That same day for the first time I had Alpaca steak, and I must say that after previously having seen one cross the street guided by a colorfully clad Peruvian girl, I felt rather strange, but my curiosity and appetite prevailed.

The humdrum sound of water trickling down roof tiles, and the tap-tap of droplets of Andean rain, make the warm languor of drowsiness overpowering, but I must ramble on. Today was a day that we teetered on the brink of a, or I should say many a, precipice in our Hyundai omnibus. Having left the town of Qosqo early in the morning we headed on a meandering dirt road towards a destination that proved elusive, and well, as most destinations are, it proved distant. But this distance made it in my humble opinion ever so worth it. These weren't touristic roads, we were entering a land that seemed to have been frozen in time.


The scenery that unfolded before our eyes was beheld by all with great admiration. The rolling hills, jagged green mountains, and looming white in the distance, the majestic sentinel peaks. Mountainsides were creatively transformed into efficient terraced farmlands. Women, donning colorful textiles, with children sticking out their curious heads from packs, skillfully directed mixed grazing herds of bovines, alpacas and sheep. Houses, made of mud brick, with brown tiled roofs, occasionally graced the landscape on hillsides and in valleys. One of the most spectacular things about this landscape was the grass. Yes, it was everywhere, on curb sides, growing by streams, taking over old walls, and on mountains, valleys and well, pretty much everything. It was so lusciously green and looked like a perfect carpet, for it grew in such a uniform manner that it seemed freshly mowed. What a treat this grass must be to livestock!



We were headed towards Pacaritambo, the Inca mythical place of origin. On our way we saw the mountain named Tambo Toco, where the four brothers and four sisters, of whom one was later to be called Manco Capac emerged from one of three windows. We then saw one of the sacred apus know as Huanacauri where one of the brothers Ayar, Ayar Uchu ascended into the sky as a condor and then upon his return turned into the mountain. Finally as the day drew to a close and we were still far from Qosqo, we ascended up the Mauqallaqta mountain to the site bearing the same name. Some other Inca myths say that this was the birthplace of Manco Capac. The site was grand, with its trapezoidal doors still standing, and a central plaza. The most fascinating thing about Mauqallaqta was that there were archaeological contexts remaining in situ. In the reconstructed Inca houses, shallow unfired clay bowls rested. These were most probably used to hold the Inca arívalos, that contained chicha. Some of these basins were singed, indicating the cooking of the beverage. Scattered all around were pot sherds, the remains of the Inca arívalos. This was my first Inca site, and it left a memorable imprint.

-Konrad