Maximum Zarou: Down in the Valley

This morning I had to leave Cusco for the Sacred Valley of the Incas. So sad, but it's the only way to get to Machu Picchu, and I'll be back before long.

Of course, since this trip is a month long, any time I need to go somewhere I take the scenic route. This is Ccorao, the first city outside of Cusco in the valley.

And this is me, overlooking the Urubamba river valley, where I will be for the next couple of days.

First real stop on today's tour was the market at Pisac.

It's a fruit and vegetable exchange for the residents of the valley, some of whom walk for miles and miles to sell their hard-wrought goods.

But of course, like everything else here, a substantial portion of the market is dedicated to tourism.

I don't know if you know this about me, but I hate to shop. For anything. Much less things I don't want or need. And if there's one thing I hate more than shopping, it's haggling. I always wind up either feeling cheap or stupid, and usually both. But everywhere you go here, and I'm talking everywhere, from the museums and ruins of Lima to the homes of the Titicaca islanders, everywhere you go someone is trying to sell you one of those hats, or a doll, or a tapestry or a postcard or a bottle of water or something. And the markets are even worse.

"Amigo! Amigo! Pregunten! Mira! Mira! Ameeeeego!" And in such plaintive tones, as if they'll die of poverty if you don't buy a ceramic bull right now (which from the look of some of them, they might, so that makes it even harder).

It'd be one thing if I liked souvenirs, but I'm kind of a "take only photographs, leave only footprints" kind of guy, so all the charm of these markets is lost on me. Anyways, I didn't meant to rant there, it's just EVERYWHERE.

Oh look, a pretty flower. Ahhhh. This is called the Flower of the Incas. I think it's a kind of lily.

So after the market (where, yes, dammit, I bought something), we drove on through the valley, and I started to doze. I awoke to find I was being kicked off the bus. Evidently my included lunch buffet was at a different restaurant than everybody else's included lunch buffet. It's too bad, too, because that's when I was going to make my move on the lovely Australian Sheila traveling alone across the aisle from me. Now I look like I think I'm too good to eat with the rest of the bus.

Lunch was delightful, though, underneath thatched roofs surrounded by exotic wildlife.

Awww...he's sweeeeping...

Then it was on to the ruins at Ollantaytambo. Yep, that's the name of the town.

The town is actually built on the ruins, using the original Incan foundations, so you can see how they planned their communities. More on that later.

On the mountain facing the temple, the face of one of the important chiefs was carved in massive scale. (Mostly destroyed by the Spanish, though.)

I learned a lot from Clara (the tour guide) about the history of the Incan conquest, how there had been a civil war around the time the Spanish arrived, how the Spanish used African slaves and enlisted tribes from all over Central and South America to help them defeat the Incans, how the Incans built their massive temples in much the same way as the Egyptians built their pyramids, how they had no system of currency but citizens paid their taxes in labor, but I won't bore you with all that stuff. Oh crap, too late.

So on that same mountain (facing the temple) on the edge of it, they carved the face of the emperor. See it? How about a close-up?

Supposedly on the winter solstice, the sun shines right through his eye!

Since I was staying the night in Ollantaytambo (not returning to Cusco), I was supposed to be dropped at my hotel. But evidently the bus was too big to fit down the road to my hotel, so they put me in a mototaxi (or Tuk-tuk, as they're called in some countries).

Looks sturdy, right? Like, enough to carry me and my giant suitcase? Yeah I didn't think so either. That's why I've been avoiding taking them anywhere.