Today was a free day to do as we pleased. There were several interesting day trips available from Cusco, including Vinicunca, better known to us tourists as Rainbow mountain, or Humantay, a spectacular lake beneath the Salkantay mountain, or even  Choquequirao, another dramatic Inca ruins in the region.

But we all felt that a leisurely day around Cusco would be a much better idea.

Having said that it wasn't entirely a day of doing nothing. We had arranged a guided tour of the Saqsaywaman ruins at 9am. (or sexy-woman as Ali Jei called it)

So at 8am we headed down for breakfast. None of us ate much. I think we were all full after yesterday. Also I'm sure the altitude affected the digestion. I was certainly feeling bloated, something I didn't usually suffer from.

Anyway, I made myself a simple cheese and tomato bap and had a cup of coca tea.

The hotel was playing classical music through two large speakers in the dinning room. At first the ambient sounds were soothing, then it became whimsical which was quite entertaining, but when it turned dramatic it became quite stressful.

It was like 18th century thrash metal blaring out. It was difficult to concentrate and I was getting agitated, perhaps my third cup of mate de coca tea didn't help.

When Ali Jei checked our oxygen levels with the finger gadget I was fully oxygenated, registering a ridiculously high score of 95!

In fact we were all doing well. We could consider ourselves fully acclimatised.

Before our 9am pick-up I headed out in search of an ATM and some Gatorade. There was a small convenience store near the hotel but it hadn't opened yet. None of them had. I knew there was a cash-point in the main square so I walked in that direction. 

Thankfully the ATM at the BCP bank, on the far corner of the square, was accessible. I took out 300 soles, swore at the machine for charging another 36 soles for the privilege, and began to make my way back.

The shops were still shut and I had all but given up finding any Gatorade. Then, practically outside our hotel, two ladies with a portable stall had set up, selling snacks and drinks, including the sought after sugary electrolyte. I was so exited to have found it I almost gave them a hug!

In the foyer of the hotel Ali Jei introduced us to Giovannia, our guide for this morning. "Just call me Jo (Gio)" she said.  

We jumped inside the minibus to take us to the entrance of Saqsaywaman. It didn't take us long but it was a steep climb. Earlier in the week I had thought perhaps we could have walked up but I was glad we didn't have to.   

There were great views over the rooftops as we drove out of the city past the church of San Cristobal.

We came to the entrance where we paid 70 soles each for a ticket. I'm not sure why but we then wrote our names on them. I'm guessing in an attempt to stop the tickets from being reused or resold at least.

As we walked across towards the colossal rocks of the stone walls of Saqsaywaman Jo gave us a quick history lesson. The 15th century temple turned fortified stronghold was built during the reign of Pachacutec. It's was a Temple of the Sun, dedicated to Inti the sun god. Then during the time of the conquistadors, it was used as a military fort.

It's written in Spanish chronicles that they had 20,000 men working on the construction.  They weren't slaves but they were conscripted from the empire.

The stone was quarried in Rumicolca, a distance of 22 miles away, and dragged here. (I still can't believe the wheel didn't catch on in South America?) Some of the largest rocks easily weighed over a hundred tonnes. How was that even possible? Then they we precisely cut to size and formed into a wall, which was even more miraculous.

We took a path that brought us up the various tiers of the temple. From the higher ground we could see how the wall was constructed in a dogtooth zigzag pattern.

Jo pointed out the large open space she called the plaza. Every year during the winter solstice (June) they revive the Inti Raymi, (the sun festival), where performers re-enact a ceremony.  Now that would be an experience worthy of a return visit!

Across the plaza there were several terraced hills. Jo remembered playing on those hills as a child, sliding down a smooth rock.

She was a proud Cusquenean and told us that her family could trace their ancestry back to the panakas, a royal lineage from the ruling Sapa Inca,(Emperor). She was a direct descendant of Inca nobility. Her family were actually custodians of an Inca relic. She didn't expand on what the sacred object was, but gold figurines, ceremonial textiles, carved stone or wooden items are common.

This responsibility was shared amongst the elders of her family, and one day she will be entrusted with it. It was fascinating to learn of this tradition.  

We continued to the highest point. Jo talked about how the temple once had three tall towers. They each had names Muyuqmarka, Sallacmarka and Paucamarca. The first, Muyuqmarka, was cylindrical and estimated to have been 20 metres tall and wrapped in gold.

She spoke of a Spanish priest who wrote how he was dazzled by the temple, believing the sun was rising in the West but it was the gold reflecting.

In 1536 Manco Inca and his resistance army lay siege to Cusco for ten months, using the Saqsaywaman as a base. Desperate and determined to fight their way out, the Conquistadors and their indigenous allies attacked Saqsaywaman and succeeded in gaining control. Manco Inca retreated to Ollantaytambo to fight another day.

Jo spoke of a legend that, during the Battle of Saqsaywaman, Cahuide, an Inca soldier, climbed to the top of the round tower. Surrounded by Spanish soldiers, and not wanting to be captured, he threw himself from the top to his death. (I'm not sure why that story has reached legendary status?)

Only the foundations remain today. The towers and temples were all dismantled over time. The stones, at least those they could move, were reused to build Cusco. 

Looking down, over the city, Jo tried to explain how Pachacutec described Cusco as a lion, with the tail where the two rivers met, (which now flow beneath the city) and the body was the main square. It only needed a head which is why Saqsaywaman was built in this location.  

We followed the path slowly back down. Jo's was constantly talking, imparting her knowledge. Her insights were certainly bringing these pile of rocks to life.

She drew our attention to a section of the hill opposite, across the plaza. Carved into the rock was this odd design. It looked like something from a sci-fi film, like the side of the Millenium Falcon but Jo called them the "thrones".  

We reached a narrow doorway through which we left the temple, coming face to face with the colossal rocks of the walls. They we cut with the same precision as those down Calle Hatun Rumyioc and the twelve angled stone but these were on an impossible scale.

In order to get some scale we had a photograph of us standing in front of the wall. One rock must have been almost 5 metres tall. The smallest was at least a metre square. They all interlocked, cut with such precision that Pedro Pizarro (cousin of Francisco Pizarro) wrote "a point of a pin could not be inserted in one of the joints".

Another conquistador and chronicler, Pedro Cieza de Leon, wrote that the wall was "prepared with such solidity it will endure as long as the world itself." 

Half a millennia later the foundations still stand.

"But imagine if it had not been destroyed by the Spanish" added Jo "It would have been the eighth wonder of the world!"

At least Saqsaywaman is part of the city of Cusco's UNESCO World Heritage site and now fully protected with all the safeguards that comes with that honour.

We walked the entire length of the wall, in constant awe of its construction as it continued to amaze. Who were these people? A civilisation who did not have a written language, had decided the wheel was not for them, yet were advanced enough to fashion massive rocks to such precision with only the most basic of tools.

Whilst we contemplated that question, Christ appeared on the brow of a hill, in the distance. It was Cristo Blanco, the statue of Christ we visited on Sunday.

The wall came to an end as the hill dropped suddenly towards the city and our time in Saqsaywaman also came to an end. We had spent an hour and a half engrossed in the story of this temple-fortress but it felt like no time at all. 

Our minibus collected us from the car park and we returned to the city, to the main square where Jo was to give us a guided tour of the cathedral. 

We didn't enter through any of the three main doors, but a smaller door to the side. 

This was the entrance to the Iglesia del Triunfo (church of Triumph) first built in 1538 and served as the city's cathedral until it became incorporated into the larger cathedral during the 17th century.   

Jo made sure we knew that there was "No Photographs allowed" inside.

I usually ignore those signs, as long as I don't use a flash, and don't make a nuisance of myself. However, Jo was such a nice person who clearly cared so much about her city that we didn't want to offend her.

I did however take a sneaky photo when I was on my own down in the crypt in the Church of Triumph. It was the final resting place of many of the former archbishops of Cusco.

Also, in the glass fronted alcove, was the ashes of Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, a famous chronicler, born in 1539 to a high ranking Spanish conquistador, Sebastian Garcilaso de la Vega and an Inca princess called Chimpu Ocllo.

She was a direct descendant of Pachacutec (great-great-granddaughter). Her father Tupac Hualpa was the first Spanish appointed Sapa Inca, (emperor), whilst her uncle was Manco Inca, the leader of the resistance against the conquistadors. 

Inca Garcilaso de la Vega died in Cordoba, Spain in 1616. His ashes were only returned to Cusco by the intervention of King Juan Carlos of Spain in 1978.

Moving on we walked to the main basilica. It was a very dark interior dominated by the cedar wood choir stalls.

We entered The Sacristy, a room whose walls were literally filled with portraits of former archbishops, including the current Richard Daniel Alarcón Urrutia, who Jo pointed out broke with tradition and was painted with a smile. [above photo courtesy of someone who ignored the no photo signs]

"Would you like to see the painting of the last supper of Christ?" asked Jo.

Of course we did!

If I'm being honest, it was the only reason why we wanted to visit the cathedral. 

What made this painting different to any other Last Suppers was how the artist, Marcos Zapata, incorporated local dishes into the supper. Taking pride of place was a roasted guinea pig, but there were also potatoes, corn and peppers; all very Andean vegetables. 

Jo suggested that it was a clever approach by the church, mixing catholic beliefs with local traditions, making Christ appear more like one of them, like he was from Cusco.

I was about to ask what was Christ was eating? It looked like a burrito? But I thought better of it.

We continued to walk, now behind the spectacluar main gold plated altar, and in front of an older intricately carved altarpiece. [another photo courtesy of someone who ignored the no photo signs]

As we walked towards the exit, through another smaller church, Jo continued to talk, telling us about the stones used to build the cathedral was pilfered from Saqsaywaman.

We thanked Giovanni for making our visit to Saqsaywaman and the Cathedral so interesting with her personal insights and her enthusiam for all things Cusco.

We left the cathedral, towards the gleaming Pachacutec, crossing the square, thinking about food (or at least I was).

It was almost 12pm, which meant it could justifiably be called lunchtime. I had seen a restaurant on-line called Offrenda with an interesting menu. Despite its full title on-line being "Offrenda Peruvian Healthy Food" we all agreed to my recommendation.

We quickly found the restaurant, too quickly because it hadn't opened yet. "Cinco minutos" said a member of staff as I poked my head in through a half opened door.

So we continued up Calle Plateros, reaching the Convent of Santa Teresa, where a pack of dogs were sitting on the steps, in the shade.

On the way we passed interesting fountains outside public toilets. One was of a woman sat on a rock, pouring water from a large pot on her knees, another the woman naked and pouring from a pot over her shoulder. There were also statues of Llamas drinking from the water feature. 

Five minutes later we returned to the restaurant and they already had a queue forming outside. As we arrived they let us all inside.

They came around first to take our drinks order and I was excited to find on the menu a corn beer. It may not have been an authentic Chicha but it was the closest I was going to get. Thea called it a Sumaq Warmy, made from purple corn and ayrampo, a type of blueberry.

To eat I ordered Quinotto, a quinoa twist on a risotto, made with pumpkin and the yellow aji chilli. It was decoratively topped with slow roasted tomato, small intensely flavoured mushrooms, thinly sliced grilled courgette, and a broccoli floret, all of which were coated in this rich soy sauce. Then to add freshness we had a wedge of avocado, a few cherry tomatoes, cut in half and some small salad leaves.

Sweet potato crisps and a baked corn wafer were added for texture and an edible flower for decoration.

It was amazing. Perfectly balanced.

The quinotto itself was delicious and so comforting, but it was flavours of all the various toppings that elevated this dish to something spectacular.

Julie chose the "grandmother's recipe" for Aji de Gallina, which was unlike her because it was a saucy chicken dish. She normally doesn't like her chicken smothered in a sauce, preferring to ask for the sauce on the side so she could pour as much or as little as she wanted.

I think she even surprised herself by actually enjoying it, despite having black olive and boiled egg, two items she despises, as toppings. At least they were easily removed.

Sonya and Garry had less success with their dishes. Garry tried ceviche for the first time, and after all the hype he wasn't impressed with his raw fish, whilst Sonya wasn't feeling hungry and so went for a small empanada.

After lunch we went to Paddy's Irish Bar to check out its TV arrangement in preparation for tonight's football match, Brazil v Peru.

To be honest it wasn't that great. There was one standard television above the bar.

In its defence it doesn't call itself the highest sports bar in the world.

We sat down in the lounge, for a drink. Of course I had a pint of the black stuff.

On the wall they had a poster of a band called Saicos, a Peruvian band from the sixties. I had heard about them. Their music was typical of the era but a faster tempo with screaming vocals. This crazy punk attitude brought them a new following after their music was re-released in 1999.  

When we left Paddy's we noticed it was raining so we donned our plastic ponchos for the first time. We looked ridiculous but at least they were doing the job and keeping us dry.

 We were in a bit of a quandary what to do next.

It was 2:30pm and we had arranged with Ali Jei to meet up for supper at 6:30pm. A good afternoon siesta was in order but we also wanted to visit the Inca Museum. In the end the culture vulture inside us won the argument.

The museum wasn't far from the main square, just around the corner, and up a slight incline. It was housed in 17th century colonial mansion called Casa del Almirante.

Originally on this site was the Palace of Huascar, the last true independent Inca emperor. In 1535 it was given to a high ranking conquistador Diego del Almagro and its conversion into a Spanish style mansion began.

We entered through the wide double doors and were met by the statue of Huascar (0r I assumed it was him). We walked across a neatly laid pebble floor towards this strong tall Inca warrior.

To its left was a black and white image of Casa del Almirante, with a dapper chap stood in front of the entrance, taken by renowned Peruvian photographer called Martin Chambi in 1940.  

When we reached the statue we turned into a large cobblestone courtyard, with two tiers of a simple colonnade.  In the centre of the cobblestone yard was a now defunct fountain.

 The ticket office was in the first room to the right and we paid soles each to enter. "Don't forget to go up the stairs" said the staff member. 

The first few rooms on the ground floor were filled with artefacts found not only in Cusco but across the Andean region. They highlighted the various civilisations spanning over a thousand years, some dating as far back as 100 BC, from the Moche, to the Pukara, Tiawanako, Qaluyo, Chimu, the Wari and the Wanka. (of course the last one made us laugh!)

So many different cultures over the centuries culminating with the Inca dominance over them all.

There were plenty of ceramics on display, some interesting, some not. We gave them as much attention as possible but after five minutes we had completed both the rooms on the ground floor.

Moving upstairs to a newly built wing, the museum became much more interesting. It wasn't all just pottery and ceramics etc, but what they had was fascinating. A set of miniature turquoise figurines caught my attention. Each one was different in some detail, like a Peruvian Terracotta Soldiers.

In the next room they had a scale model of Machu Picchu and also of Choquequirao. The later looked incredible and you could see why it's often referred to as Machu Picchu's "sister city". Although it is deservedly lesser known.

However, unlike it's glorified sister, Choquequirao can only be accessed by a two day hike, which means the number of visitors per day is still very low. 

Next up came the skulls that looked like the heads of aliens. They were remains of people who had purposely undergone a process to elongate the skull. From a young age their heads would have been bound with pieces of wood to force the growth into this shape.

It's believed that this cranial deformation was done purely for how it looked, like a status symbol. Maybe they believed it made them look intelligent.  Or was it to mimic an alien life form?

Most intriguing.

In the next room we saw a copy of the "Real commentaries of the Inca" published in 1609 by the chronicler Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, whose ashes we came across in the crypt of the cathedral earlier today.

His book gave incredible first hand insight into the Inca civilisation and how the Tawantinsuyo (Inca empire) operated. With his mother being a direct descendant of Pachacutec he had access to an invaluable source.

His portrait hung on the wall. Dressed like a conquistador he had certainly embraced the Spanish way of life.

Moving on we then came across a portrait of an Inca nobleman. He was Don Alonso Chiguan Topa, an 18th century nobleman who claimed, with his brother Marcos, a royal lineage back to the 13th century Sapa Inca emperor Lloque Yupanqui.

Of course by 1750 there was no Tawantinsuyo, no empire to rule, no people to command but the culture was very much kept alive. During celebrations the nobility would revive Inca ceremonies and wear traditional costumes.

In another room there were many more portraits, recreating the various Sapa Inca emperors from the 15th and 16th centuries. There was more than just a family resemblance in the paintings. They all looked very similar as if the artist used the same model for them all.

The last thing we saw was a black and white photograph. At first I thought it was an incredible image of indigenous people in their finery. But it turned out to be a photograph of a theatre group with their artistic director (Luis Ochoa) in Cusco, 1930.

It was taken by photographer Martin Chambi. Despite only being actors recreating a scene, it was still absolutely fascinating.

We left the museum through the courtyard, pausing for a moment to admire the view. The museo Inka had occupied us for almost an hour which surprised me. 

It was now 3:30pm, and we were running on empty, desperately in need of our siesta, so we straight back to the hotel.

Those 180 minutes absolutely flew by without not so much as a forty winks. We met Sonya, Garry and Ali Jei in the foyer and returned to the main square, Plaza de Armas. It was dark by now, the sun had long set and the square looked lovely with all the restaurants and shops lit up, and the houses on the hillside shone like stars.

It was another mild evening. We had been expecting cold nights at this altitude but the weather had been kind to us so far.

We were searching for a restaurant called Ceviche and found it quite easily, along the Northern side of the square. The restaurant itself was upstairs. 

It was a brightly decorated room, mostly white-washed but it had this odd image of an octopus on one wall. 

The menu had several options for me. I decided on an avocado ceviche and a dish they called del huerto a la parrilla, or simply grilled cauliflower.

Both dishes came at once. As my cauliflower dish was served warm I decided to eat it first.

 It looked as pretty as a picture on the plate. The charred florets sat on some pumpkin and carrot puree which added much needed flavour. Several edible flowers added the colour as well as a bright green oil that encircled the dish. However it was definitely the case of style over substance.

Still hungry I was glad I had ordered the ceviche, although describing the guacamole and tortilla chips as a ceviche was stretching the truth a little but I suppose the same principles were applied.

It was served raw and something citrus was drizzled over it, which is ceviche.

Julie chose the fish. It was a fillet of rainbow trout, a surprisingly common fish in the waters around Cusco and she absolutely loved it. She seriously enjoyed every mouthful. In fact she couldn't believe how much she was enjoying it because trout wouldn't be on her radar back home.

For once, the portions weren't huge. This was a relief, having already eaten a large lunch. But it also allowed room for dessert!

I couldn't resist the chocolate tart, which really hit the spot. It was like a fudge cake, thick and sticky, served with a chocolate ice cream and scattered with more colourful edible flowers.

We paid our bill and left the restaurant, stopping at a shop selling souvenirs. Sonya had been here earlier today and had seen a jigsaw she wanted to buy but they didn't have the configuration she wanted. I can't remember exactly but it may have been the 1000 piece she wanted and they only had the 500.

Anyway, they said come back later and now it was later and she was back.

The staff weren't expecting her to return and still didn't have the jigsaw for her. In their defence however they immediately sent someone over to their other store to bring the jigsaw over.  

Whilst Sonya, Julie and Ali Jei waited, Garry and I went on ahead, returning towards the hotel, stopping at La Fabrica, a sports bar.

The place was full, standing room only. So we decided to literally stand by the door looking at the TV in the corner. It was already half-time in the game between Brazil and Peru. They were showing the highlights from the first half. Only a goal separated the two teams, a penalty for Brazil.

As the second half was about to begin Julie, Sonya and Ali Jei arrived. We all decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel. Not only was it too busy we also had a relatively early start tomorrow. 

I found the game on the TV in our room and had it on in the background as we packed our bags. Peru were doing OK but Brazil got another penalty awarded and went 2-0 up. It then all fell apart and Brazil scored two goals in quick succession to make it 4-0. Game over.

Once the final whistle blew it was lights out, alarm set. Moving on to Puno tomorrow.