"Q" is for Quechua .

I added a nice bunch of pictures to the prior post, all about the market at the foot of the ruins at

Ollantaytambo, but when I hit the publish button, they just weren't there. But, that's ok, the market is run by Quechua people, so that works out perfectly for my "Q" entry. It's really hard to think of things that match the alphabet, I always seem to be a day or two behind.

Anyhow, the market. Not the veggie market, but the craft market.

We walked across a small bridge, past what was once the edge of the village.

There are a lot of little restaurants and shops on this side, as well as some really nice looking hostels, and down one road is the train station, where we were to catch our train to Machu Picchu soon!

But first we walked past the market to check out the ruins. The huge, steep terraces that guard Ollantaytambo’s spectacular Inca ruins mark one of the few places where the Spanish conquistadors lost a major battle. It's a pretty impressive sight.

Remember these terraces, in a short while you'll see them from a whole new view.

Again, water, water everywhere. 

As we walked through the ruins, we came across this group who were singing traditional songs for either a documentary or a CD, I'm not sure, but they were being filmed, and it was fun to listen to them as we looked at the ruins. Sort of lent an interesting ambiance to the area.

We didn't spend a whole lot of time here...there wasn't a lot of shade and it was hot. We headed back to the market to check things out. I think most of the markets have the same items, but it's still fun to look around, and to barter. I am about the furthest thing from a barterer, but I did not too bad. I'm sure I paid more than I could have, but really? An alpaca sweater for $7 or $8 Canadian dollars? I'm not going to complain.

I love the way the market is at the foot of the ruins.

And I kinda like the juxtaposition of the church and the ruins in the picture below. It's also sort of sad to me.

You can just see the huge steps that lead to the fortress on the far left, and the Catholic Church bells in the upper right.

After the market, we headed back for lunch (only lunch time! Look how much we accomplished in just a morning) 

Had lunch here, a scrumptious carrot ginger soup with giant croutons,and a butterscotch brownie thing...ooh, it was the last one, good thing I got it...the other desserts were all chocolate cake-type things, I love sweet foods, but not chocolate.

Yum.

Now...off to another set of ruins, the grainery storehouses called Pinkullyuna. It was another harrowing hike.

To get to the beginning of the trail we had to walk through town and down one of the narrow cobblestone lanes. You can just see the sign in the above picture. 

The path was easy at first, a reasonably gentle incline, and not a lot of steps. I do dislike steps. We wandered upwards, getting higher and higher.

Fairly high. Look way off into the distance, sort of to the right and you can see the terraces where we just were...at the market. See? We do do lots of walking.

And speaking of high, I love this picture of the three fellows sitting on the wall. We walked past them, one was playing a guitar, one was thumping on bongos, or some kind of drum, and the third must have been rolling their joints as the smell of weed was pretty strong. But I love that they were just hangin' out, getting' high, and enjoying the sun and ancient sights in Peru. I would imagine it's a memory they'll think about for years. (I gotta say though, the mother in me was nervous that they'd fall backwards into whatever that was, but the traveller in me was so happy for them.)

But we kept on heading upwards, in places the path was nothing but steep areas of shale and there  were times when you sort of had to scrabble along on all fours, grasping at little bushes and outcrops of rocks that didn't seem overly secure. But we persevered, and eventually got to a resting area.

What a view! But we still had to get here:

See the path? Umm, yeah, that's because there wasn't really one. I cropped myself out of this picture, the look of horror on my face was not priceless. But again....we persevered and eventually arrived!

"Look! I can see my house from here!"

And now we had to do the whole thing in reverse. But it was worth it. Again, for the view and also for the sense of accomplishment it gave me. I'm used to walking, and mild hikes, but this was pretty intense for me. One of my fellow travellers has climbed Fisher Peak in Cranbrook, and said this is just as tough, and because of the altitude, even tougher. So....yay for me!

A busy little fellow playing and singing to himself as we got back into town.

He looks sad here...like one of those kids from a "Save the Children" commercial, but he had been singing, so we sang back at him, and this was his look!

Here is a sandal that (at one time) belonged to a porter, their sandals are made out of tires, which makes sense when you think about it...what else is gonna give you excellent grip on slippery and wet paths? 

Another interesting place behind another secret door:

Like I say, you just never know what's behind these doors....a family living in one room raising guinea pigs, or a beautiful garden like this one. Or even a school:

Oh, and I forgot about another little walk we took, on the other side of town. This time when we left our  motel, instead of turning left to go to the plaza, the market and the ruins, we turned right.

We went past some homes and around a corner, and there was the Sacred Valley, in all it's glory. We wandered down a dirt road towards to Urubamba River. The PeruRail train came tootling by, on its way to the train station to pick up passengers for Machu Picchu....we'd be on it soon!

I loved the sound of the whistle echoing through the valley.

As we walked, we passed yet more terraces. These ones didn't really look like they had crops that were being tended, but there were workers heading up on horses, so who knows? I don't know what crops of quinoa look like. Or the 4,000 different types of potato. 

You don't realize how high these terraces are until you see the steps.

The Urubamba River. 

This place seemed to be a local business, there was welding going on inside.

And this place sold beer. This was the roof, not so sure how to get inside, and really? Not so sure I'd want to.

This home was drying their corn on their roof, getting their supplies all in place for the winter.

It was interesting to walk through the part of town that wasn't touristy. We not only didn't see another tourist, we didn't see another soul.

We turned around and made our way back, although we went up some steps that we hadn't come down, but we still ended up in the same place. *sigh* Once again I was turned around and probably couldn't have for back on my own. I'd still be following the river or the train tracks, singing a lonely song.

All in all it was a really memorable day. Except that I can't remember what we did for dinner. I guess that part wasn't too memorable.