The Inside Report. Peru Pinkulluna - February 1, Now I am living, at last I am again free⦠The wind toss my hair about with gentle ease as I stop for a moment on the outskirts of town by the river. The mountains surround me, cradled at the top by a halo of clouds. I rest in a valley just north of Ollantaytambo.
Earlier I hiked up a steep mountain trail to several sites of ruins. I just saw it and looked for an opening to the mountain along a narrow alley lined with stores and homes. It was a series of fortressed walls and buildings on a steep slope of the mountain. The first few steps were tall and I took gigantic footsteps, upward bound. Excited I had found the path, I bounded up the first series until my lungs began to feel the change in elevation.
I gradually slowed to a steady pace. The trail was steep, somewhat treacherous and very unforgiving β straight up and down.
I passed several smaller ruins until I reached the larger storefront houses stacked back to back. The lowest house on the cliff stretched out with a mountain view fit for the kings. With windows overlooking the next mountain and a small grassy terrace area, it is quite the place for a peaceful stop.
The windows of the three homes were planned out so perfectly that they all line up to share the view. The highest of the homes is filled with small notched rock floor areas where it looks they used to keep Guinea pigs. Below me was a very old home and farm. I ventured out later that day only to discover is was private property.
