Planes Trains and Automobiles

Four planes, two hotels, one lost rucksack later and I´m here in Cusco the heart of the Inca Empire and the highest city in the world. My head is a bit befuddled from the altitude and days of airplane food so I haven´t taken much in yet. From what I can make out it´s dusty and tucked away in the middle of some spectacular mountains, so much so that as we flew in I thought we´d need our cranpons to collect the luggage. The population seems to be 50:50 locals to tourists. The locals are severly friendly and man or woman wouldn´t look out of place in the midfield at Old Trafford. Communication so far is ok. When I ask "¿Habla Ingles?" they understand and usually answer a modest "A little" then proceed to speak fluently. When I tell them I only have a little Sapnish, I mean it. I made the rookie error of asking the driver a question in Español last night, HIs face lit up and spoke at length unil I had to confess I hadn´t a notion what he said and only knew 20 words in Spanish, ten of which are numbers. I could feel the disappointment and hear him thinking "Bloody Gringo!" The tourist half of the population are easy to spot, clutching Lonely Planet Guides, wearing light weight fleeces, hiking boots and those walking trousers that zip into shorts. I´m pleased to say I blend right in. In fact as I´ve been in the same clothes since Friday (missing rucksack mentioned at the start, keep up)I probably look like I´ve just come off the Inca trail.