Twenty-five men, all with brown faces, in twenty-five hats, sun protection. All of them sitting on the side of a dirt road, surrounded by maize, brown, slain, baking in the sun from the morning's work. All of them grinning, and calling out, 'Hola, chica, chicha? Como estan, amigos? Fueran a Choquequirao? Quieran chicha, un vaso?'

The two of us, tired, sweating, hungry, arriving back to the pueblito of Cachora around lunchtime after 4 days of trekking in the steep, mountainous terrain of the eastern Andes in Peru to a complex of ruins that is said to match the importance of Macchu Pichu, but was only (relatively) recently discovered, and is still being excavated. We encountered the group of campesinos in a corn field that had been high as an elephant's eye when we departed for the trip.

We accepted a glass of chicha, which is a fermented corn drink. Jameson had not tried it before, and it would be almost rude not to take it. It was being poured from an old gas can container.

They were all in good spirits. 'Where are you from?' 'Estados Unidos.' 'Do you have a muleta?' 'No, we probably should have gotten one, we have our heavy packs...' 'Next time find me, I will take your goods with my mule. When are you coming back to Cachora? Tell your friends to come!'

The banter continued, and we enjoyed the respite of the company and the beverage, and the knowledge that the town was so close. Then, things got better: they invited us to take part in almuerzo (lunch) with them. It was a delicious and wholesome meal of fava beans, a squash soup, salad, a piece of pork, cancha (a usually toasted, but on this occassion boiled, corn kernel snack). These were being served up by a group of 4 women, in traditional clothing, from huge buckets. Despite the bulk nature of the food, it was delicious. We sat on the side of the road with them, next to huge bags of corn, beautiful corn, deep reds, flecked kernels of orange, maroon, and blue, small and large. This was a bad corn year due to the rain, they are usually larger. They would consume much of it but also sell a good portion to Lima. We continued talking with them until it was apparent that it was time for them to get back to work.

It is hard to describe just how welcoming, authentic, and treasured this experience was, and how it will remain in our memories for a very long time.

Choquequirao was an intense and rewarding journey. From the offset, we met a French guy who suggested we get a mule to carry our bags. Though he seemed in shape (equivalent to us, anyhow), we didn't pursue this. The first day was fairly easy. We had camp in a perfect place to hang hammocks, under huge trees that bear a fruit quite similar to chiramoya (though I can't remember the name right now). We slept wonderfully, and the second day were quite ambitious. We descended another 600 meters, and then ascended 1700 meters to reach the archaeological site, and then back down another 900 meters to reach our camp, hiking a total of about 26 km in this day. The switchbacks were grueling, cruel, never-ending, the mountainside steep, descending into the river canyon of the Rio Apurimac and back up to cloud forest, where the civilization was centered. Que pena!

However, it was worth the difficulty. Though probably not as magnificent as the world-renowned MP, it is an extensive archaeological site, with excavations stretching over the hillside: the main plaza, a lookout area, a housing collection, and farming terraces on hillsides so steep one could only imagine. And between some areas lay unbroken tracts of forest, so that one could only imagine what other surprises are hidden underneath the dense vegetation. The site was relatively quiet, and we saw only a few other people while we wandered the ancient rocks. We could only marvel at the civilization that lived here, close our eyes and try to imagine what life was, and also how it evolved from that into the tiny villages we passed along the way (inhabited by about 10-20 people each, in these rugged, remote lands without cars or any real type of modern convenience, however, complete with coca-cola!)

Cachora, the main pueblo which is the access point, was in almost every way the complete opposite of Cuzco. Not much English spoken here (where there were signs, guides, etc in English everywhere in Cuzco), little tourist infrastrucutre but a brand new tourist office (open about 7 months) that was happy to give us a little map and enough information to DIY (whereas in Cuzco there were plenty of places advertising tourist information but it was hard to get info on how to just DO something without a guide or tour), about 4 restaurants in the entire town all serving a 'menu del dia' but not much else (no sweet specialties like the amazing diversity one can find in Cuzco). It was a welcome change after we had soaked up enough of being spoiled in the big city.

From there we headed straight to Lima on a 16 hour bus, stayed a day in the city enjoying ceviche, pisco sours, and the city sights in the centre, and caught a 22 hour bus to Chachapoyas, in the northern highlands of Peru. What a long stretch of travel, but I don't think we'll have to do that again, thank goodness!

Now we are enjoying Chachas, which hosts pre-Incan ruins, most notably in Kuelap, in hazy cloud forest, remnants of a group of people who were not conquered by the Incas until about the 1400s. We'll be heading to the main site tomorrow.