Masonary work of the Gods
Trip Start Dec 26, 2009
95Trip End Dec 22, 2010
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On close inspection of the temples, sun gates and other specialised monuments with the ruins, I was flabbergasted with the precision in which they were constructed. There was no joiner between these large smooth rocks, just indescribable masonry work, patience and precision placement.
The problem was the Incas had this annoying habit of building their cities at very high elevations with tiny steep steps
Squashed into a hot, old diesel spewing van, overflowing with locals, food, animals and a young boy sleeping on my lap.... I realised how comfortably accustomated I was in traveling in such a manner. I hopped out of the van and paid 40NZ cents for the 2 hour ride, while tourist watched in bewilderment from their luxuries two story buses. I'm not sure if I should feel sorry for them, or if they should feel sorry for me?
To determining the purpose of these sights, first I try to unscramble things on my own, followed by ease dropping on conversations between tourist and guides and then later asking locals to fill in the gaps at a 1.50NZD lunch in the local market. Not you’re most conventional method, but hay its works for me.
Following an old bicycle track down a valley towards a very interesting salt irrigation system, in hope I don’t get lost, a local farmer invites me to sit down with him and his family to enjoy a hot liquid beverage
After visiting the salt fields, my finger covered in said element from what I thought was clean clear water; I arrived in the middle of a main road away from any nearby villages. Conversing with a local, I found out that "miece" is in fact juice from corn, luckily for my intestines. I didn’t think you could extract juice from a mouse, can you?
The main road backed up with traffic as far as the eyes could see. "PAN PAN PAN PAN" People crammed in the back of trucks screaming, singing, honking horns and generally making annoying sounds on anything they could get their hands on "PAN PAN PAN PAN"
Peru was having its provincial elections "PAN PAN PAN PAN". In New Zealand you don’t even know who your neighbor is voting for, let alone the entire town "PAN PAN PAN PAN" just incase your wondering what on earth PAN means, its bread. A candidate called himself PAN and decided to play the tune "PAN PAN PAN PAN" over and over again on grand, thumping speakers in this once tranquil sacred valley, the propaganda messages disturbing everyone within a 100m radius. Some of the local’s don’t understand what they are voting for. They hear the words "PAN PAN PAN PAN" and relate to it because they like bread, thus voting in favour of PAN. If they don’t vote, they have to pay 100 soles... once again another country which has to vote, contradicting the theory of democracy in the first place. I even caught a glimpse of a candidate who was apparently Elvis.