Inca

Casa Tunki, Cusco. 14.12.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing in the news today. It’s like the world is going to Hell. Here in Cusco, you’d never know there was a terrible war taking place far away, over the mountains, across the ocean and the great sea of sand. Trump might have a habit of talking big game, but he is backed by the mightiest nation on the planet. I fear for the people of Iran.

As if I didn’t already feel cut off from everything that is going on, I am about to go off grid for six whole days. I don’t imagine there’s much signal in the Amazon rainforest, and I would rather not use up my phone battery trying to find out. During that time, Peru will elect its next president and Trump’s deal with have to be met – or else.

Once again, I find myself wondering with no small amount of irony that the most dangerous stretch of my South American adventure will be the layover in New York.

But isn’t that what this was all about? To get away from it all for a bit – from work, from loneliness, from the depressing chaos of global politics?

Having bought the boleto turístico, and with one day more in Cusco than I’d originally planned, I decided to go all in. 130 soles for 16 sites may sound good, but at 20 soles each, the average traveler is more likely to save money by paying at each site. Some are far away, like Tipón and Pikillaqta, four are in the Sacred Valley, one of them is in the middle of a roundabout in one of the busiest streets of downtown Cusco and two of them are art galleries.

However – I bought the ten day pass, so now I have to get my money’s worth. Tipón and Pikillaqta are too far away to be reached without hiring a guide and a vehicle, but I reckon I can do everything else on this ticket. At least now it feels like a proper challenge!

With Sacsayhuamán already achieved, first on my list was the Museo Histórico Regional. It’s worth visiting solely because it was the house of the incredible Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, a 16th century Peruvian nobleman for whom the expression “main character energy” might have been coined. Though Spanish by birthright, he was also the great-grandson of the Inca Huayna Capac, one of the last rulers of the Inca Empire known as the Tahuantinsuyo. Raised primarily by his Inca mother and uncle, he developed a profound admiration for his heritage and, assisted by the lavish education his Spanish father provided for him, he became the first great writer of the Americas. At 21, he left Peru for Spain, fought for the Crown in the Morisco Rebellion, and published many books about his native land and its people.

Understandably, El Inca is venerated here in Peru as both a defender of the native people and one of Cusco’s most illustrious native sons, whose works were influential for many famous statesmen and philosophers.

Another of Cusco’s greatest heroes is Tupac Amaru II, also of royal descent, who started a rebellion against the Spanish after witnessing multiple abuses of power at the expense of the indigenous peoples of Peru through his work as a muleteer. Unlike El Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, however, Tupac Amaru met a grisly end, torn apart in a public execution in Cusco’s Plaza Mayor as a punishment for his resistance.

It’s worth noting that Tupac Amaru II was the first public figure to abolish the slavery of Black people in the Spanish Americas. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why Afeni Shakur decided to give her son the name of this legendary figurehead of indigenous resistance, knowing that such a powerful name could only inspire the young 2Pac to great things.

While it’s not on the list, I had to head downtown to find the enormous mural I’d seen on my way into town on my first night. I love a mural, especially when it tells a story, and one day I’d love to see Diego Rivera’s historical paintings in Mexico City. But for now, Cusco has its own retelling of the history of its people.

There are just so many details to pick up. The way the Spanish soldiers merge with the bodies of their horses, like centaurs, in imitation of the confusion the mounted soldiers caused among the natives, who had never seen a horse before. The war dog held on a chain by a Cistercian monk. The conquistadors gambling with dice over their stolen gold. The indigenous painter portraying the scene as a righteous conquest aided by a winged Santiago, under the instruction of a Spanish cleric. The bolas weapons of the Inca and the Spanish cannon.

You could read a hundred accounts of the Spanish conquest of Peru and still learn more from a painting like this.

This morning, I ticked off another two on the list: Puka Pukara, the Red Fort, and Tambomachay, the Resting Place. You’ll be offered a visit to these by any of the guides hanging around Sacsayhuamán, and they’re well served by the white servicio turístico vans – but, me being me, I decided to walk there.

It’s not that far. Tambomachay, the further of the two, is about an hour and a half from the centre of Cusco. It is mostly uphill, however, and I was lucky the weather was on my side: be it a favour of the Lady of the Marshes or no, I was protected from the sun by a merciful cover of cloud all the way there and back. I had my rosary on as I often do when I’m not sure if the road is safe or not, so I’ll chalk it up to a little divine intervention.

Even on foot, I still got there before the bulk of the morning’s tourist traffic arrived. It was worth the hike – steep though it was – to see a part of Cusco that I might otherwise have missed.

It also gave me the chance to check out Huayllarqocha’s small wetland reserve, which will have to be my substitution for Huacarpay. I didn’t see any of the grebes that supposedly live here, but I did see an Andean flicker (an American species of woodpecker) and a number of Andean ducks, a smart relative of the Ruddy Duck that can be found in North America.

Now that I’ve had some rest, I should go and pick up my washing from the lavandería down the road. After that, I should pack for tomorrow, before checking out the two art galleries and, with any luck, a performance of local music and dance at the Centro Qosqo de Arte Nativo.

I’m not sure if you’ll hear from me tomorrow. Like I said, going into the Amazon may well mean going completely off-grid. Either way, I’ll try to keep writing. The next six days are likely to be red letter days, both here in Peru and out there in the wider world.

Hasta la próxima. BB x

Casa Tunki, Cusco. 14.22.

Overnight, I’ve gone from one of the tallest people in town to one of the shortest. Or at least, on a par with the locals. That’s because Cusco is awash with tourists, as it surely has been ever since Machu Picchu was rediscovered. Towering Germans, athletic Americans, French and Italian girls walking around in legging shorts that seem at odds with the local custom of long dresses, heavy socks and boots.

I could go off on one of my usual rants about the vapidity of some of these tick-box trekkers. But I won’t. You’re bored of hearing it and I’m bored of repeating it. So I’ll focus on the other things I’ve seen. It is worth knowing, however, just how much the tourists seem to run this town.

Today is Easter Sunday, so I allowed myself a proper night’s sleep (my first in a while) and had breakfast at the hotel before going to the cathedral for prayers.

I have, at last, noticed the altitude. It’s not debilitating like I thought, but it is certainly a factor that cannot be ignored. Going to sleep last night was a drawn-out procedure, not because some of the Picchu junkies wouldn’t stop talking at the top of their voices, but because it felt like I was eternally short of breath. Every yawn and every deep breath felt incomplete. I guess that’s simply a factor of living at this kind of altitude – there’s simply less oxygen to go around.

By the morning, however, I was feeling much better, so I had all the energy I needed to go out and get my bearings.

Semana Santa came to an end this morning with the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection in the Catedral de Cusco. They had three Masses back to back and I caught the tail end of the second.

The cathedral was almost full to bursting, so I said my prayers in front of the shrine to Mary with a few of the local women. Unexpectedly, I felt something. Not for the first time, either. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but it moved me.

I scoped out the HQ for the Amazon Wildlife company so that I would be able to find my way there easily tomorrow. There was a local man with a very violent nosebleed being attended to by two policemen outside. I hope that’s not a potential symptom of altitude sickness!

Speaking of which, as it was still fairly early, I decided to climb up to the old Inca fortress of Sacsayhuamán that sits on a hilltop above the city of Cusco. When I say climb, I mean it. The ascent is no joke. It’s supposed to be good practice for the Inca Trail, but as that’s not on my itinerary, it served as a beginning for the Waqrapukara and Inti Punku side quests I have planned.

Sacsayhuamán is a large Inca complex, parts of which can be found all around Cusco, since the Spanish took a leaf out of their former Moorish rulers’ book and cannibalised much of the fortress to build their churches and colonial houses and estates. The rocks that remain are mostly the largest and most cumbersome, retaining their masterful stonemasonry – each of them cut in just such a way as to slot together without need for mortar.

There’s no gold here – any that there might have been was stolen by the Spanish may hundreds of years ago – but it is still quite an impressive complex. It’s certainly more than ‘just a pile of stones’ as one English father remarked to his wife and son on their way up the hill…

I decided to throw any idea of self-consciousness to the wind on the way back down and spent about forty minutes or so hunting hummingbirds. The winding path up to Sacsayhuamán follows a Eucalyptus forest, which was uncommonly alive with birdsong (those poisonous trees are usually devoid of life). One particularly noisy resident is the beautifully named Sparkling Violetear, one of the many hummingbirds that can be found in the hills around Cusco. They’re notoriously hard to photograph, but patience is a virtue I have learned through this hobby, so after enduring the stares and multilingual remarks about the size of my camera by all the passers-by I was rewarded with a close encounter with one of the sparkling little gems.

I saw a giant hummingbird, the largest of its kind, on the way up, but it didn’t stick around for very long, so the violetears were my main success this morning. I’m going to a hummingbird sanctuary tomorrow, so I might well see a great deal more of them, but for now, I’m happy with what I saw and heard.

I found a spot in town for lunch that wasn’t crawling with tourists (in fact, it was almost entirely Peruvian in clientele, which is always a good sign). A huge bowl of caldo de cordero and a drink cost me a grand total of forty soles, which is a little less than £9. I’m going to miss how affordable this country is.

I’ll also miss how handsome the people are. What a royal profile these Peruvians have! And to think that some people pay for a rhinoplasty to have their noses shrunk… What a travesty! I find it quite a fetching look, myself.

I’ve taken it easy today, otherwise I might burn out – it is a pretty full on adventure, and I’m conscious that I’m back to work the day after I return, so I need to fit in some time to rest during this holiday.

But that won’t stop me going out for supplies and another wander this evening. Maybe I’ll be able to find something new in the twilight! BB x