PEru

My friend said I would see it and would never forget it. So, I was primed for the event. He was right. I witnessed the sight which now is indelibly etched in my memory.

I was in Peru on a wonderful trek. We had spent the first part of our adventure on the west side of the country, a dry part of the world with rivers flowing down to the Pacific Ocean through landscapes coloured ochre, beige and yellow.  Now it was our turn to witness the other side of Peru. To get there we boarded a plane and flew up towards the continental divide high in the Andes. This is where, at the summit of this stupendous mountain range, the rivers either flow west to the Pacific or east to the Atlantic. There comes a magical moment never-to-be-forgotten. My eyes were skinned for it. I looked down on the familiar semi-arid land below. In a moment the colours turned dramatically from brown to emerald green. Now we were flying into the Amazon Basin. Directly below were billions of magnificent equatorial trees (I prefer the world “Jungle” to “Rainforest”) an entirely different world of extravagant wildlife and flamboyant nature. It happened in the twinkling of an eye. My friend had been right. I can re-create that moment in my mind right now.

We spent a few days on the banks of the Rio Negro, a tributary of the main river. It is awe-inspiring, challenging, and unforgettable. It is also very hot and sweaty. I treasure that experience. There was a tarantula spider who made a daily appearance.

Peru is a magnificent country for a visitor. There are breath-taking landscapes, wonderful wildlife visions and un-matched ruins of earlier civilizations. I hungrily consumed them all.

One of the highlights was spending three days walking on the Inca Trail, a steady climb through aromatic woodland towards the Inca’s spiritual home. At the end you are ushered through a timeless, almost mythical entrance-gate which opens onto a sight equal to any on earth, Macchu Picchu itself. A legend comes to life, a boyhood dream manifests itself, you feel the pulse of history, you have to pinch yourself to bring reality to bear. It is like a dream remembered from long ago.

Photo taken by me of Macchu Picchu in 2002.

As time passed on my trek a strange unease crept into my consciousness, a sadness imbued my feelings. The very air seemed to exhale a deep sense of loss. Everywhere I looked I saw the aftermath of one of the most momentous and bizarre chapters in human history. It was, of course, the demise of the great Inca Empire at the hands of the Conquistadores. Prior to the arrival of the Spanish and their horses the Inca Empire covered a huge area of South America making it the greatest empire on earth at the time. Many other cultures had been defeated and colonized  into this massive nation. It had a population of up to twenty-two millon. Highly organised, its people were expected to contribute time and effort to huge communal schemes such as constructing temples, roads and building terraces for crops. It was extremely hierarchical with emperors who were god-like. Within that society there were many conflicting interests and some of the subject peoples who had been conquered by the Inca were rebellious.

Francisco Pizarro, the leader of the Conquistadores was looking for gold. He had made two expeditions down the Pacific coast before to no avail. In 1532, fortune changed her tune and he followed reports that a great empire existed inland. He called up reinforcements but it meant he still only had two-hundred and sixty soldiers of whom sixty-two were cavalry. He planned to meet Atahualpa, the emperor of the Inca Empire who had an army of no less then eighty thousand. The first contact happened on 16th November. Initially  the exchange was calm and formal but then mayhem broke out. Seven thousand Inca soldiers were killed, hopelessly slaughtered by the Spnish who were armed with guns and artillery. Atahualpa was captured and the relentless conquest of the Inca ensued. Within one generation a vast swathe of South America was under foreign control, its gold was stolen and its population plummeted to just two million.

And this is what invaded my mind, the ghosts of the Inca Empire hovering in the atmosphere.. Walking in the mountains you could not miss the empty terraces which climbed up the valley sides to dizzying heights, formerly worked by thousands of industrious farmers, now empty and decaying.

Photo taken by me of Terraces in 2002

Then there were the magnificent stone-built structures, unequalled anywhere on earth now standing forlorn and pointless. One of the most telling examples of this most enormous and convulsive demise was to stand in front of the Cathedral Basilica of the Virgin of the Assumption, the principall  catholic cathedral in Cuzco and note that its foundations are nothing less than that of the Inca Temple of the Sun, completely flattened to make way for the invading, colonial religion.

Photo taken by me of Cathedral Basilica of the Virgin of the Assumption in 2002

The joy at seeing amazing things and the sadness of knowing how their bitter history had come about wrestled with each other for the latter part of my trip. It didn’t spoil it. Peru cannot disappoint. I saw chevrons of seabirds miles long at Paracas. I witnessed pulsating religious processions and the wonderful, colourful costumes of the people (The Inca were perhaps the the most impressive weavers of any group on earth). From an aircraft I looked down on the amazing Nazca Lines, patterns cut into the landscape by ancient peoples often miles in length, of such precision that the mind boggles at how they could have produced such exactitude from ground level.  I marveled at panoramic views of the mighty Andes as a backdrop to stunning temples created by the greatest stonemasons who ever lived.

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