The view from my spot.
It was scary easy, actually, and that combined with the ridiculous entrance fee is what makes me proud of doing it. The money goes straight to Lima, anyway; the village doesn’t see a dime of it, meaning my coworkers also encouraged my adventure. You see, my favorite spot in the village is a little flat bit a quarter of the way up the side of a mountain, just around the corner from the aforementioned ruins.
Actually, last Monday I found out that if you climb all the way up the mountainside, even wearing flip flops and shorts, you can astound yourself by arriving at the Incan ruins. That first time I was so surprised by the fact that I continued to climb higher and nobody stopped me, that I left my book and camera and phone at the bottom of the mountain. I exited the ruins and went back to retrieve them, untouched of course, and resolved to sneak in again on my next day off, this time with my camera so that I could gather photographic evidence
I think these borrachos are supposed to be stopping me from sneaking in… maybe.
And oh boy, photos I did get. I climbed and walked, occasionally pausing to enjoy the view. If I meditated, I would probably compare it to that. There was a guy in a red windbreaker who I thought might have seen me sneak in, but I’m still here and alive, so I guess I imagined our entire rivalry.
