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In four days we traveled well over 50 miles under our own power to get from a mountain pass at 14,500ft. above the Sacred Valley to Machu Picchu. Some of that was on the original Inca Trail, a sort of interstate highway for people who must’ve been half mountain goat. The photos aren’t great — and there weren’t many of them — but boy were we tired.

Note: I’m no longer in Peru, but since the U.S. provides a fast(er) computer and consistent internet access, I’m finishing up these last few posts from home.

Peruvian taxi drivers are a strange breed. Part Evel Knievel, part Confucius, these guys (I did not once see a woman driving one) seem to dispense white-knuckle moments and deep thoughts with equal regularity. On my first full day in Lima we landed in the back of a cab with a driver who spoke pretty good English. We told him we were headed to Cuzco in a few days and he instantly lit up at the mention of his previous home. “Ahh, Cuzco,” he said with a big smile and the jerky cadence of non-native speakers. “Every day is dancing day.”

Though not technically in Cuzco, we visited nearby Pisac to hike to some ruins and see the Fiesta Virgin de Carmen, where dancing was indeed the order of the day.

About 200 yards from the hostel I’ve been staying at here in Lima, there is a huge early Incan pyramid and archeological site that’s been under excavation since the early 1980s. Built between 200 and 7900 AD, the complex was most likely a textile and religious center for the coastal-dwelling Limans. For many years, development destroyed the fringes of the site and the main pyramid was a dumping ground for locals here in the Miraflores neighborhood because it didn’t look like a pyramid at all, just a big hill. Excavations revealed a 7-level main structure, surrounded by plazas, walls, administrative centers and evidence of human sacrifices. Alas, as Lima is an  incredibly cloudy and dreary place, the photos leave much to be desired.