I have been in Cusco for more than a week. I'm experiencing the strangest combination of feeling like I've been here forever and no time at all. I should have written a post about my trip to MACHU PICCHU last week so here it is:
We went last Wednesday and the day started wonderfully and I couldn't get over the view (and the llamas). I learned that Machu Picchu is pronounced Mah-chu Pik-chu, and if you say it Mah-choo Pi-choo it means something completely different (and might I add quite inappropriate). However, the day took a turn for the worse when it started downpouring on us. Steep stone steps plus rain and mud do not make for an easy trek. My lovely raincoat couldn't even keep out the water and I was forced to don a white poncho that made me look like an Incan ghost. All I have to say is that sometimes comfort and style do not coincide.
Here is what the great ruins looked like when I saw them:
The ruins were so great that I hardly cared that I struggled to see them and almost died going down the stairs. I don't know how people over the age of 35 can do this stuff. Hasta tarde amigos!