This
is the fifth in a series of our Cuzco
adventure, which starts with our arrival.
In case you missed the last chapter, “Sexy Woman and the Giant Sundial,”
you can read about it here.
It
was the start of a new day, and we were all ready to get somewhere new on our Cuzco adventure. The hostel room wasn’t as cold as we thought,
or perhaps the blankets were thick. It
turns out the girls weren’t the only ones tired of looking at old rocks. I was ready for something different.
Our
first brief stop was at a place called Tambomachay, which is Quechua for “Also
some old rocks to look at, but we promise you will still find it interesting.”
As
we got out of the van, I stopped in front of the sign and muttered to myself.
Wife: Are you coming?
Me:
Math...12,400 feet…ish.
We
continued up the hill a short distance, where we passed rows of short, gnarly
alien trees. Angel told us that a tea to
relieve headaches could be made from the bark.
I was glad I didn’t have one.
The
rocky structure in front of us could only be described as an Inca shower-house,
one of the best surviving examples of Inca plumbing, a system which slowly
allowed water to run downhill, while limiting its flow rate to conserve the
supply.
“A
cold shower will restore positive energy,” Angel said thoughtfully.
Our consensus was that we didn’t need any more positive
energy, so we strolled back down the hill. The Llamas on the hillside watched the
tourists.
Back into the van we climbed, and within a few minutes we
were over the mountain. The landscape
opened into a lush watched by giant yellow and brown sentinels. We pulled into a tiny roadside animal rescue shelter,
one of the scheduled stops on the day’s tour.
I hadn’t planned on being impressed here. At first glance, it seemed like a tourist
trap, and I couldn’t imagine that it would be all that interesting. Some birds, some alpacas, blah blah.
We walked by a deer in a small pen, which showed only
brief interest. Two giant turtles, maybe
twenty pounds each, were busy eating watermelon. The zookeeper let us pick one up and hold it.
Which was cool, but since the critter
ducked inside his shell, nothing that exciting happened.
We walked on by a group of several varieties of parrots,
all rescued from cargo ships, where smugglers would pack them into PVC pipe
containers. Nine out of ten birds do not
survive the trip – these were lucky, and now we were able to enjoy them. A friendly green one took his turn perching
on each of us.
Then the fun began, at least for me. I tend to delight in doing things that
probably should be prohibited, but aren’t, because no one thinks anyone will
actually do it.
Two giant Andean condors perched on tree stumps watched
us with interest. The largest flying
bird in the world, the wingspan of one of these enormous buzzards is almost 12
feet. Not frightened at all, they posed
on their stumps quietly for photos with us, then hopped down.
I seized that moment to do the “shouldn’t do this”
action. I sat right down next to one of
the birds and just couldn't help myself.
“You look like a big chicken,” I said.
The big male vulture looked at me like I was nuts. Then he took an interest in my shoelaces,
trying twice to get a taste of them.
The next bite was aimed a bit higher. He managed to get his beak around the
majority of my ankle. Fortunately I
pulled back a little just as he bit down. Since they are carrion birds, he wasn’t
expecting his meal to retreat.
That’s exactly what I did, even though this was my
favorite part. I could have sat there
and interacted with this bird all day, or to the limits of his patience, which
probably would have been reached within seconds.
At the end of the tour, we were shown various natural
dyes used for wool, while a woman sat weaving, and youngest petted a Peruvian
hairless dog. The obligatory gift shop
visit was brief.
As we got back into the van, I suspected that the
zookeeper was thumbing through his Spanish-English dictionary, so he could make
a sign for the next group:
“Please
do not sit and verbally taunt the giant flesh-eating birds.”
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