There it was. Machu Picchu, a photographic cliché, if ever there was one. And still, cliché or no cliché, it was one of those views imprinted in my mind since childhood from countless travel magazines and innumerable travel documentaries.
It must have started something like this: Salty water came out of a small spring on the hillside. The flow rose and fell with the seasons. Some surfaces that were submerged when the flow was high dried out when the flow lessened. Left behind, was a white substance.
Historians and scientists agree unanimously – and with absolute certainty – that the concentric circular terraces of Moray were made for an important purpose.
Within an hour of landing in Cusco, I found myself standing at a bridge near Ollantaytambo, taking in this most pleasing scenery.⠀“This isn’t how Peru is supposed to look”, I thought to myself. “This is how Alaska is supposed to look. Where are the colourful, pipe-smoking ladies with bowler hats, where are the pan flute […]