Every Andean village has its own opinion regarding the best method for killing a cuy. Some people twist its head. Some pull its head. Some, like our host Eucevio, prefer to give it a karate chop to the back of the head. After all, you don’t want the entrée to look mangled when you’re serving guests. Continue reading “Fifty Ways To Kill A Cuy”
There are only two ways to get to Machu Picchu: By foot, on the famously grueling Inca Trail; or by buses that shuttle up and down from the town of Aguas Calientes (well, a few people hike up from the town). And the only way to get to Aguas Calientes is by train, which is how we went. I’m sure there is enormous satisfaction in completing the multi-day hike but the train was well worth it. Huge dome windows provided spectacular views of the wild Urubamba River alongside the tracks, and the high Andean peaks beyond. Anyway, we had our own grueling hike planned for later in the day.
Continue reading “The Lost City of the Incas”
The sound of rushing water, everywhere we go. My ears are filled with gurgling, splashing, and bubbling, pleasantly overwhelming at its loudest. Stone canals line the edges of every cobblestoned street in Ollantaytambo. They still deliver water from the adjacent Patakancha River to the town’s residents, just as they did over five hundred years ago. A wooden bridge crosses the Patakancha a block from the main plaza, connecting the town to the ruins just beyond. Even the courtyard of our inn has a canal running through it; the sound doesn’t disappear until we close the door to our room. Continue reading “A River Runs Through It”