Tag Archives: Short Story

Water Running Past My Feet – Journey In Peru

There is nothing eloquent about the word ‘goodbye’. People say it pretending they are likely to see you in a month or two. There was nothing certain about my return to this town or country. The only justification would be to live and work here having obtained the relevant visa.

My presence in this place may have given false impression that I was financially well off. I had simply weighed my options to decide to come here a second time. The life choices which presented as satisfactory to many others, had not presented their appeal to me. I had walked a very different path with many cross-roads and confusing signposts. I was simply getting weary of the uphill climb and the amount of dragons I had encountered along the way.

Coming to Peru presented the opportunity to slay another of those fire-breathing beasts. This dragon had two heads. I understood initially that I had lost that fight but in hindsight it was the best outcome with an unexpected treasure attached to it.

SHop On The Corner - Journey In Peru

SHop On The Corner – Journey In Peru

It took some time, amidst many tears, to place my belongings into my luggage. When, eventually, I opened the door of my room, there was my friend Henry, standing with his sweeping brush. ‘Maybe’ he said. I smiled. This was his favourite English word to pronounce. This one word I used to tease him about, I will always associate with him.

Journey In Peru - Wild Star Landing

Journey In Peru – Wild Star Landing

Saying GoodBye - Journey In Peru

Saying GoodBye – Journey In Peru

It was time to say goodbye to the people of this town. As bravely as I could, I set off, calling into shops and homes. I will never forget it. I had gifts for each of them and they in turn gifted me something of theirs. I gave my oil pastels to little Nancy, the child I had sketched during my first week in Ollantaytambo. And I gave the ‘cocaine’ to Alex. It was, of course, only a detoxification tea. I also bought gifts for my family and friends back home.

Pacha Mama Ollantaytambo Peru

Pacha Mama Ollantaytambo Peru

By The Urubamba River

By The Urubamba River

When I returned to my lodgings to store the items in my bags, I was invited to lunch with my Casa Del Abuelo family. Henry had cooked a special meal of cow’s tongue. I tried my best not to disappoint my hosts but I could not get used to the texture of the meat. Eventually I had to admit defeat. When asked for seconds I opted instead for the sauce which was delicious. ‘What’s it made of?’ I asked. ‘Cows tongue!’ Catty replied. We all laughed at this.

Inca Bridge - Ollantaytambo Peru

Inca Bridge – Ollantaytambo Peru

Henry had the perfect plan for our last evening together. We went fishing down by the Inca bridge, four of us. On the way, Henry was curious about Irish tales he’d heard of. So as best I could, in Spanish language, I told him the story of Cū Cualainn and ‘The Salmon Of Knowledge’. He also amused me as he tried to understand the correct pronunciation of the word ‘beach’. ‘And a female dog?’ he asked next. He had me laughing. To him, both words sounded the same. ‘Bitch!’ I replied.

Fishing - Ollantaytambo Peru

Fishing – Ollantaytambo Peru

We didn’t catch any fish but it was good to be by the river. It reminded me a little of my trip to Santa Teresa. Throughout that journey, the Urubamba river flowed all along the canyon floor. During that trip I had been impacted by the immensity of this country and the extent of difference of this culture from that of my own background. So much I would never understand or know. Yet here I was with the water running past my feet, waiting for fish to bite. Right then, I felt like a tiny bit of me belonged to that river, like I had earned its respect or something.

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Afterwards, I called to my first home in Quisiqoller. The family had gathered and Carlos was in the process of having an avocado facial treatment. I spoke to them only in Spanish. Carlos commended me on my improvement. I had lived with them for the first four weeks of my time here and had very limited conversation in the beginning.

Avocado Facial - Journey In Peru

Avocado Facial – Journey In Peru

Art Of Calle - Journey In Peru

Art Of Calle – Journey In Peru

Next I called to the Coffee Tree. This I was dreading. It was quiet that night. Only Alex and Roxanna there. Alex was busy with his computer while Roxanna studied her mobile phone. Alex made me a hot chocolate. We spoke very little which was not the way we usually were. ‘You are family,’ this Alex reminded me over and over in the final days.

Finally I got up to go. I hugged Roxanna and then turned to Alex. I saw him wipe a tear from his eye as he told me how he would miss me. I hugged him and headed as quickly as I could for the door. I rounded the corner in the direction of the Fortaleza and then the flood began. I was heartbroken.

Some of my friends met me as I arrived at Hooverts shop. They teased me, seeing my inability to control my emotions. Hoovert, was his usual upbeat self but he made no deception that he too was going to miss my presence. He presented me with a thoughtful gift. A book about Machu Picchu and a DVD with the cultural dances of Ollantaytambo, in which he also featured as a dancer. He made me promise to call in the morning to say a final goodbye as he would be opening his shop early at 7am.

By now it was dark and cold. Back in La Casa Del Abuelo some friends gathered to pass the time drinking a hot drink, which had a more than a drop of Pisco in it. Nobody spoke of my departure the next day.

©Caroline Cunningham Author Of Wild Star Landing (Blog)

Urubamba River Ollantaytambo Peru

Urubamba River Ollantaytambo Peru

Three Times Finalist In Ireland Blog Awards 2015

Three Times Finalist In Ireland Blog Awards 2015

Save

Advertisements

Looking Down From Above – Journey In Peru

My last days amongst the people of Ollantaytambo were pressing upon my mind. So conscious was I now of the sun stretching from its rise and peak to its descending point. I could not grasp the measure of how this place had attached itself to me.

I had spent some time in those last two weeks with a younger Peruvian woman who was visiting some relations in the town. She planned to return from Lima back to Ollantaytambo to find employment and eventually start a business. She encouraged me to think about returning also to consider my own venture. It was tempting. I wanted to live every possibility of my life. This was one possibility and I certainly felt at home in this culture.

View Of Fortalezza from Pinku Lluna

View Of Fortalezza from Pinku Lluna

My original quest awaited me in Ireland. A desirous one. I had sought an alternative goal when coming to Peru, appeasing a curiosity. In truth, I was being fearful of failure and disappointment. The Universe had answered loudly. Even Machu Picchu was in cahoots. Go back to Ireland and finish what you started.

Plaza De Armas Ollantaytambo Peru

I had bags that needed packing. I couldn’t face into it. Liz suggested a visit to Pinku Lluna. It is an uphill trail of loose terrain, leading to a number of Inca built structures, such as, a store house, for the purpose of storing grain. Higher still, the face of an Apu jutted from the rocks, keeping protective watch over all below. It was a useful place to visit now and then to gain a perspective on situations.

Ollantaytambo Peru

Looking down from above, the town neatly sprawled into the foothills of the dignified mountains. Beyond, the Fortaleza dramatised the scene fantastically. This was no ordinary town. While Machu Picchu reigned gloriously a short train journey away, this Sacred Valley town rested in the womb of world, served by silvery foaming rivers and guarded by mountains. Ollantaytambo was the location chosen before Machu Picchu as the first private royal residence of Inca Pachacuti in the mid-fourteen hundreds.

Vi ew from Pinku Lluna

Vi ew from Pinku Lluna

Perhaps I was charmed in the same way as those Inca Kings and Queens. Only one year ago, I had spent a night in this town. Whilst wrapped in blankets on the deck of a bar, I thought how lovely it would be to spend longer in this appealing town. I think the Inca’s had something to do with it. There could be no regrets. I had grown in many ways and the ground beneath my feet had become more solid like those towering rocks.

Inca Store House - Pinku Lluna

Inca Store House – Pinku Lluna

Apu - Pinku Lluna

Apu – Pinku Lluna

As I gazed upon the roof tops and scanned the stretch of buildings, I noted the ones in which I had made friendships and had been regarded as family. Some seeds are scattered poorly, deprived of the elements that provide growth. Some are smothered by thicker and more vigorous vegetation and some are trampled upon as they attempt to grow. That same seed could reach its potential given a different set of circumstances. And this is why some of us human beings need to remove ourselves from our original environment. It is the tragedy of life that some humans never realise that there could have been a different, possibly a better, outcome, if they had only dared to move.

One last look around and then back to the heart of the town and the packing.

© Caroline Cunningham Author Of Wild Star Landing (Blog)

Save

Beautiful People – Journey In Peru

We arrived in Patacancha, in all its muckiness, amidst much celebrations. People everywhere were dressed in colourful clothing. The men in poncho shawls and tossled hats and the women, the women, worthy of paragraphs that escape me.

‘Beautiful people,’ these were the words Alex repeated over and over and for days afterwards. I stepped my dainty ballerina shoes from the motorbike into the slippery mud of Patacancha. Like a ninny, I held fast to Maria, to make my way up the slight incline towards the culmination of festivities. I realised I was in scant supply of clothing. A ‘jumper,’ that Irish thing other folk know as ‘woolly’ sweater, would have been a huge advantage, that and an anorak and a hefty pair of gloves.

Andean People Peur

Andean People Peur

We were singular in our attire amongst this Andean clad community. It was quite a spectacle.  Little children bounced with joy on a nearby trampoline. There were stalls for various things like throwing and chancing your arm at winning a prize. There were vendors selling hot food of skewered meat and spicy rice, biscuits and the like of scones. Alex treated us to the lot. Everything hot was welcome.

Andean People Peru

Andean People Peru

Andean People Peru

Andean People Peru

The main events were taking place in an open area alongside perhaps what could have been a football field. A solitary animal lingered there whilst the ‘Beautiful People Of Patacancha’ aligned to cheer their teams at ‘Tug Of War’.

Patacancha Cuzco Region Peru

Patacancha Cuzco Region Peru

What a sight! First of all I was impeded by the colourful display, particularly of the women and many with their babies peeping from the wrappings of materials bound to their backs. Every part of their attire was woven red and white with intimate threads of blues and yellows and probably every colour of the rainbow. I never felt able to explain the look of it. They amazed my senses thoroughly. Even when seeing one of them individually in the town of Ollantaytambo, I realised I had a laziness within me as a writer, to comprehend what I was actually seeing.

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey in Peru

Journey in Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Weaving is a heritage of these Andean people, handed down from their Inca ancestors and perhaps even earlier dominions. I just gazed and gazed in complete distraction. Women heaved and hoed as they tried to out-do the other team. It was amusing. There was not much struggle. In one big ‘go’ the other side ran their counterparts over the line. It was not so when it came to the men’s competition.

Patacancha's Beautiful People

Patacancha’s Beautiful People

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

I stayed with Maria, whilst Alex wandered around and mingled with folk he was acquainted with. I spied a log fire underneath a stone and went to heat my ankles for a few moments. The men were about to start their competition and the atmosphere was getting livelier.

Tug Of War Peru

Tug Of War Peru

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

Tug Of War Peru

Tug Of War Peru

Maria and I positioned ourselves nearer to the activity. We were in the thick things. As intrigued as I was about the appearance of the people, it was probable that I was spied in much the same way by some of this community. A woman spoke to me in Quechua. I didn’t know what she was saying but I provided the little bit of Quechua that I knew by way of greeting. She had much more to say. Maria explained in Spanish. ‘She wants to know if you would like her baby.’ I laughed. But in reality I was shocked. ‘No queries?’ Maria enquired. ‘No!’ I replied. Seriously, this woman was offering me her baby. I had not anticipated ever being asked this question.

Maria explained that, with the existence of ‘not-for-profit’ organisations in the locality it was not uncommon for these Andean communities to realise that they could benefit from assistance of ‘foreigners’ such as myself, to take care of the financial requirements of their many children.

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

I came face to face with reality in that moment. I had read a little about the state of things in Peru before my travels. I knew there was an element of traditional life that was alive and well in more rural parts. Whilst much of these traditions were worthy of protection from the invasion of what could be perceived as ‘aggressive western principles’, it was deemed by government and outsiders alike, that there is need for better education, particularly with regards to the affairs of sex and the empowerment of women to be in a position to have a say in their reproductive abilities.

The men beside us heaved and heaved and at one point it looked as if the other side would have the advantage. The slippery mud created much challenge to both sides. Women screeched and winced in fever pitch for their winning teams. One woman joined her strength to pulling the sweater of the end man. A child was beckoned to place a stone behind the footing of one of the men to anchor him in the mud. Every attempt was made presumably, by both sides, to secure the win. There was a  momentary standstill followed by a hefty heave which saw our side swoop the win. In that moment we were thrown in every direction. I almost landed on the most padded part of my anatomy in the mud. Maria saved me.

Alex soon appeared by our sides and was eager to get going on the motorbike back to Ollantaytambo, as it would not be long before the mountains would claim the darkness of the night.

©Caroline Cunningham Author Of Wild Star Landing (Blog)

Sitting On My Pjamas – Journey In Peru

It was unusual to have lashing rain in the middle of the dry season, in Peru that is. It was not so unusual for an Irish person to see a downpour, but my Peruvian friends were caught unawares. That first night it rained heavily. I heard a dripping sound towards the end of my bed and by morning a neat patch of dampness had spread outwards upon my blankets.

Sacred Valley Peru

I had a chat with my friend Henry, the owner of this new hotel. He explained that he was arranging with the land-lord to fix the leak. It was not apparent how long this would take however. He took a look at my situation with the bed. The room was so small the bed could not be moved to avoid the leak. The rain was not stopping either.

Fortaleza in the Rain – Ollantaytambo

Henry was convinced the rain was a temporary thing, it being the dry season. He was amused by my questions about weather forecast. I realised that it was it was more an Irish obsession to be fixed on daily weather reports. In this part of the world, the weather was usually consistent with the seasons. The forecast however was not good. A week of rain was imminent. This was doubly not good as my trip to Machu Picchu was only days away.

Henry agreed to allow me to swap to another room. It was a slightly bigger room but the gap under door was wider and more exposed to the driving night time breeze. It was always cold in the night time. I was used to making a cave for myself within the heavy woven blankets. During this damp cold week I resorted to sitting on my pyjamas before changing and wore additional layers to keep warm.

Ollantaytambo Peru

Ollantaytambo Peru

The streets turned rapidly to mud. Mobile networks and internet were cut-off completely for a few days. There was a more isolated feel to it. The surrounding peaks gnarled a stormy greyness and snow fell on higher ground returning tourists swiftly to their base having had to abandon downhill biking trips.

Ollantaytambo Peru

Ollantaytambo Peru

Within a few days, the rain slowed to intermittent showers but a damp coolness remained throughout the week. The year before I had been fortunate to see the parting clouds revealing the Inca City of Machu Picchu in splendour beneath a pure blue radiant sky. How would it manifest itself on this second visit amidst the cold rain?

Outdoor Telephone Peru

Outdoor Telephone Peru

I was sympathetic to these elements having had so much pouring of my heart the previous week in Cuzco. I was living in a minor key and Machu Picchu was beckoning to accompany me within these strains. It was some just desert. I would eat it up and accept that it would be good for me no matter what.

©Caroline Cunningham Author Of Wild Star Landing Blog.

Save

Night of The Perseids – Journey In Peru

Another 6a.m. phone call from home, this time to notify me of a global astronomy watch for a meteor shower peaking on this coming night, to be witnessed from cloudless parts of planet Earth. I was smiling to myself. It was suddenly cool to be an astronomer. It was now the stuff of news bulletins, family conversation and social media glitter.

Concert At Misha Wasi - Sacred Valley Peru

Concert At Misha Wasi – Sacred Valley Peru

I had spent some nights trying to reconfigure upside-down constellations as they appeared in the Southern sky of Peru. When I had internet Wi-Fi available I relied on the Google Sky application on my mobile phone.

Misha Wasi - Journey In Peru

Misha Wasi – Journey In Peru

Tonight’s concert at Misha Wasi was perfectly timed. Misha Wasi had started as Bio Museum. It housed a display of Peruvian grains and plants for the purposes of educating tourists to the nutrient rich, diverse crops of Inca legacy. Thanks to a transient eclectic group of foreigners, Misha Wasi also housed art, craft and fashion and posed as a cool out-doors concert venue.

At that time, a group of travellers had come together from different parts to form a resident musical ensemble at Misha Wasi. I found them much too late in my time in Ollantaytambo for I would have loved to have joined them.

Night Of Perseids

Night Of Perseids

‘Fil’ was the only Peruvian member of the group, his instrument was the cello. My friend Henry affectionately referred to him as ‘Phil Collins’, the name stuck in my head from then on. The other group members played guitar, percussion and flute.

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

We gathered in darkness of the courtyard amidst a hush. Star-lights dripping from the surrounding trees and shrubs created a fairy-tale scene. I recognised some faces as I purchased my glass of wine.

Sacred Valley Peru

Sacred Valley Peru

I found a bench and soon the music began. Slow, soft melodic, instrumental, transcendental, hypnotic, gentle rhythms infused our collective souls. Having finished my wine, I lay across the bench facing towards the sky, waiting for the shooting stars otherwise known as meteors. They were faint but frequent until I saw one that blazed a bright silent trail of fantastic light. Then I was so happy.

Misha Wasi Concert - Peru

Misha Wasi Concert – Peru

The music found a deeper path into my being at that very moment. I was connected to every element, thankful to be in this perfect place at this perfect time with eyes and ears to witness the sensuality of this finest night. The night of the Perseids at Misha Wasi and all around planet Earth.

©Caroline Cunningham Author Of Wild Star Landing Blog

Cocaine – Journey In Peru

Early one morning I got a call from a family member in Ireland. ‘Don’t accept any packages from strangers!’ Alarm bells had been set off by the antics of two teenage girls (one Irish, one Scottish) who’d been arrested the day before in Lima airport whilst in possession of a hefty amount of cocaine. ‘Surely, I have more credibility than this’, I thought to myself.

Later, a text from another family member, ‘mind you don’t take any packages off strangers!’ It was big news back home so I thought it would be interesting to see what kind of news it made, if any, in my Peruvian town of Ollantaytambo.

 

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

I went first of all to The Coffee Tree, Alex usually had a daily paper, maybe it had some mention of these girls. He turned every page, nada, nothing.

I went on down to Hoovert’s mini-market, he had a TV. Explaining in Spanish that an Irish chica and her friend were going prison for smuggling drugs got my friend really intrigued. ‘Are they your relations?’ he asked me. ‘No,’ I replied. With that he took to roaring laughing nearly falling off his stool. I saw the funny side. Ireland is so small compared to a country the size of Peru, any incident involving one of own citizens and we behave like it happened to our neighbour down the road.

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

The real news in Peru that day was that two major terrorist leaders had been shot by the Peruvian army and many of my Peruvian pals were extremely happy about this. I reassured my family there would be no unusual packages in my possession as I had the best of company here in Peru and a fair amount of sense to start with.

A day or so later, I was on my way to the market. A pair of shoes needed mending. Crossing the Plaza De Armas I was drawn to a display stand which had a chart closely resembling the mappings of reflexology. I went to take a closer look. A woman approached me. I relayed my story in Spanish language about my training and interest in reflexology, a holistic therapy.

287 (640x522)

The woman introduced herself and her colleagues and we exchanged notes regarding their therapy. They had a device. It resembled the game with the wire and hook where there is an electric signal that ignites when the metal parts touch each other.

I was asked to give my hand and a wand instrument was waved along the edge of my palm, the area which I know to reflect the spinal reflexes. At a particular point, I felt the light zapping of electricity. This was the diagnostic element of their therapy called Prosana which is of Korean origin.

Journey In Peru

Another part of their therapy involved use of a bell. They asked my permission to perform the healing ritual. I agreed. Just then, two of my pals, Henry and Felipe happened to be passing and stopped to investigate the goings on. I could see them chuckling to themselves as one of the men clanged the bell around me and above me.

Then he brought me into the shelter itself. Here he produced a substantial red package (A4 size) with lots of Spanish writing on the outside. I couldn’t be sure what he was telling me to do with it but afterwards having read the details, it appeared to be a tea of many herbal ingredients to be used for the purpose of detoxification. My friends were teasing me about it.

My Prosana friends remembered I had told them about the pair of shoes that needed mending in the market and they insisted on accompanying me so as to ensure I got a good price.

Journey In Peru

Journey In Peru

I arrived back in my lodgings with the package under my arm and began to scrutinize the ingredients which were too numerous and incomprehensible to me. ‘I wouldn’t touch that stuff,’ Henry offered. His wife was also shaking her head and sniggering. ‘Give it to Alex,’ they said, laughing at the idea of it.

I wrote home that night. ‘I have the package. I think there’s cocaine in it!’ I certainly didn’t bring it to the airport. I gave it to Alex as my parting gift.

Friends - Journey In Peru

Amigos – Journey In Peru

This Blog post has been long listed in the V by Very Ireland Blog Awards 2017. 

© Caroline Cunningham Author of Wild Star Landing (Blog)

Carefree By Degrees – Journey In Peru

Oh to live this life completely carefree. That would be a joy. In this world however, caution is required and my experience as a woman has taught me to be especially cautious. But I am always curious as to what I am missing out on and so there are times when it is necessary to dare to discover the extra spaces that are available for my adventurous soul.

Oh To Be Completely Carefree As A Woman

Oh To Be Completely Carefree As A Woman

That first evening in Ollantaytambo, as the son of my host accommodation accompanied me to a local shop to buy batteries for my torch, I heard a whistle as I passed. My young friend explained to me, ‘that’s what the men here do when they see a beautiful woman’. I uttered not a word at that time. I was concentrating on the wide cobbles of stones beneath my feet as we crossed the square of Plaza De Armas in that Sacred Valley town of Peru.

Night Fall in Ollantaytambo Peru

Night Fall in Ollantaytambo Peru

I don’t think it was the normal behaviour however, I’d say the whistle was more intended to alert my new friend that he had been spotted with ‘stranger’.

It only happened one other time. I had spent almost six weeks in the town at this point. I was once again crossing the square. It was early afternoon with the sun blazing. That ‘wolfish’ whistle was loud and obvious. I was not being presumptuous it was clearly aimed at me.

Journey In Peru - Ollantaytambo

Journey In Peru – Ollantaytambo

I had passed three men at the corner of the square and whilst I didn’t look their way it seemed to me that I was being spied upon. The hair upon my neck stood erect and my footing was halted mid-air. I was momentarily displaced but quickly alerted my senses. I was not going to let this pass!

I stopped in my tracks. I felt like Clint Eastwood in one of those old westerns as I slowly and deliberately turned to face the culprits. There they stood, two dodging my eyes and their companion peering out between them. I recognised this one. He saluted me slowly in military style with a sheepish smile. I responded with a slight tilt of my brow, eyeing him all the while.

Ollantaytambo's Inca Heritage - Peru

Ollantaytambo’s Inca Heritage – Peru

We had met within my first few days in this story book place. I was grappling with the newness of everything at the time and he almost cajoled me into meeting him in the moonlight at the Fortalezza. He didn’t understand much English and I hadn’t learned yet how to politely decline in Spanish so I had alluded him into thinking I would go. But I had stood him up and later tried to figure out a way to explain. For a while thereafter I avoided his quarter out of embarrassment.

Whist I operated mostly with caution amongst strangers there was only one other time when I almost got sucked in by a fascinating man. There are people out there who are capable of captivating you in an eye blink. When you are travelling in an adventure you attract the most intriguing characters. Thus, there was one other stranger who spoke of The Universe, Love, and a Quest to save everyone. I cringe now when I think how I gave him my contact details so easily but I do believe his intentions to share his ideas were not malevolent.

Cuzco At Night - Journey In Peru

Cuzco At Night – Journey In Peru

And now I was sitting in the travel office of an agent in Cuzco’s Avenido Del Sol. It had taken half an hour already to secure booking for my trip to Machu Picchu. I had been led to believe that availability at this time of year can be slim due to it being high season. The tricky part can be the alignment of the train tickets with the entry date.

I sat patiently in the luxury of being in no hurry. I was recovering from the shell-shock of rejection and contemplating redemption in the sight of the Inca sanctuary. Eventually the agent conversed with me in Spanish. There was a problem. The tickets which he had procured from his computer booking, required an additional authorisation from a regional office. I had already paid for everything so now I had a choice, to accompany him to the regional office or wait here in Avenido Del Sol until his return.

Temple Of The Sun - Cuzco Peru

Temple Of The Sun – Cuzco Peru

It was safe. I had observed his company for quite a while, his interactions with his colleague, he was a good sort. We took a taxi, a five minute drive. It took no length to set things straight and we returned on foot to the centre of the city of Cuzco. It cheered me up to think that I was learning something brilliant. To be carefree, requires an element of risk but with risk comes information and knowledge that widens the capacity for reassurance and more freedom.

I had my tickets. Soon I would leave this proud Inca country to return to my home in Ireland but first I would journey to Machu Picchu.

Entrance To Machu Picchu - Journey In Peru

Entrance To Machu Picchu – Journey In Peru

©Caroline Cunningham Author Of Wild Star Landing (Blog)