Cuzco, Peru

One small hour plane flight later and I find myself here in the magical land of Cuzco. The plane landed by circling in and doing a 180 on landing approach, dropping, more like squeezing into a canyon. What can I say, the cities beautiful. Built on Incan ruins, all redroofed shingled, its Uber touristy, but who cares. I'm writing from the mammoth Hostel Loki, an institution with 150 beds that sells shirts saying 'I survived Hostel Loki' and other such things.

The altitude got me at first, but a sudafed later and I'm doing fine. We've spent the day cruising the cozy coblestone walkways, checking out a bmx race through the city, visting a local soccer game, before it started raining, and seeing a music festival de caballeros. At the festival, I talked to a nice guitar cowboy who sat behind, his name was too long for me to remember, but was suprised to find that his costume wasn't a costume at all. He was a real cowboy, with cows and all. These conversations, all in spanish , have been the most rewarding part of the past few days. My spanish is improving rapidly and the people I've met have been so kind and forthcoming that they've enriched my life.

I almost forgot, the philosophy professor in the terminal in Lima. He stopped me to ask if I had found his ticket in the bathroom, but it turned out to be in his pocket all along. He was going to Cuzco to give a talk and was very interested in me and my studies, He teaches metaphysics and such. He even gave me some recomendations for Cuzco. Just a really nice guy.