Shelley and the Steps of Doom

In 2003 I travelled with my wife Michele (aka Shelley) to South America. The whole trip deserves a blog elsewhere at a later time, but it's fair to say that it was punctuated by several incidents which stand out very firmly in our minds.

One such incident was the case of Shelley and the Steps of Doom.

We were in Peru.

Peru is a remarkable country, and we would go there again tomorrow if we could. During our trip there we travelled to Cuzco, and like all tourists there we visited Machu Picchu, as well as taking a city tour, and travelling through the Sacred Valley of the Incas.


The Sacred valley trip was in a private car, and took us through some awesome countryside, and to several notable Inca sites. One of those was Olayantambo, which is a series of ruins and terraces, accessed by an enormous stone staircase.


Another notable site was Pisaq, and it was here that our incident occurred.

Our driver was not a qualified site guide, and so when we got to the ruins at Pisaq, way, way up a steep hillside overlooking the town of Pisaq, he had to stop at a certain point, and let us go on by ourselves. He indicated that he would wait in a car park some way below, and that we could walk around the mountainside and the ruins, and find a path back to him quite easily.

Before we could get onto the path we were accosted by one of the ubiquitous hawkers that we encountered everywhere in our travels. This man was a vendor of wind chimes, and he was intent on selling us at least one, if not more. We shook him off firmly but politely, saying words to the effect of *perhaps later*, which are not, it turns out, wise words to use on a vendor of wind chimes.

We set off... but not knowing much about the place, we were walking blind. I ventured up a ladder for a look at one higher part, but Michele stayed on the main path, which at the start was very good to walk on. Now I should mention here that Michele doesn't like heights, and has a poor sense of balance - a little short of vertigo sometimes.

Imagine then our dismay when we rounded a corner, and found that the broad footpath suddenly gave way to a set of stone steps up the side of a cliff!! The Incas were evidently like mountain goats, and did this kind of thing quite a lot (as we found out). But this was the path to another part of the Pisaq site, and logically we had to continue.

The drop on the left was not terribly far, (it looks worse in the picture), but far enough and steep enough to do a lot of damage, and Michele baulked at going up the steps at first.
After some prompting she climbed 2/3 of the way up, which impressed me very much, and sat well away from the edge for the photo . Then we tried to complete the climb, and Michele made it to the top, just behind me.

It was at this point that the Inca appeared. With a tootling of a flute, a real live Inca shaman appeared at the top of the stairs, and things began to fall apart rapidly....

For a start, the Inca was taking up space on the path. And for another, the path was now incredibly narrow. At the top of the stairs the path had turned into a narrow ledge, made worse by the fact that the rock wall to the right bulged outwards. To go past required a certain amount of nerve, and a clear run, which we didn't have.

If the Inca hadn't been there, perhaps I could have got Michele through that part, and the rest would have been much easier. (In fact, as we paused, an Austrian walker came from the same direction as the Inca, and assured us that the going was much better after this).

But then it got worse!! The Inca offered to help Michele, and was trying to help her to her feet. Michele was very disturbed, to say the least, by the fact that the Inca's heels were over the edge of the path as he was trying to assist her, and it was beginning to get to me too. I could easily see him taking us all over the edge if he wasn't careful.

After a couple of minutes, Michele decided that she would abandon the steps, and go back the way we had come, to find our driver, and I would go on to the other part of the site with the Inca.

The ledge was indeed the worst part of the path, although other parts were still precipitous, but after a few minutes we rounded a corner and were treated to the site of more excellent ruins.


The Inca gave me a running commentary about the buildings and their nature, and made appropriate gestures inside the small temple structure. He also sold coca leaves to a couple of passing walkers, from his colourful blanket.

Eventually it was time for me to leave him, and head back to the car park. As I got closer I saw Michele sitting near a wall, with, I assumed, our driver. But no! - this was the vendor of wind chimes, who had literally followed Michele halfway around a mountain to make a sale. He was very polite, yet insistent, and indeed it was a nice ornament, but before we could decide, yet another vendor appeared, and tried to sell us exactly the same thing!

In the end, and in the confusion, we bought our chime from the second vendor, leaving the first a little miffed, so I bought from him a small pottery ocarina (flute thing), which I vowed never ever to put to my lips, regardless of how much I might boil it in disinfectant first.

We finally made it home to Cusco after a wondeful day out, and two cameras full of pictures, complete with wind chime and ocarina.


The chime hangs outside out lounge window now, and although it is not as shiny as when we first saw it, and is a home for spiders, it rings beautifully in the breeze and reminds us of our encounter with The Steps of Doom.

I have no idea where the ocarina is.

NEWSFLASH!! The ocarina has reappeared!! - See this blog