We ended up treating the name of this town like a tongue-twister: Ollantaytambo, ollantaytambo. It’s the “y” of the “olla”, you see. Very hard to get around.

But we made it to Ollantaytambo on the morning bus out of Pisac and found Hostal Ollanta without a problem. (Ollanta, it seems, was the Inca war­rior the town was named after.) This time the ruins were right above the town, the main square had a foun­tain and the roads were cobbled. Ollantaytambo has the dis­tinc­tion of being the best sur­viving example of Incan archi­tec­ture and city plan­ning. Its streets have been con­tinu­ously inhab­ited for 700 years.

Done with the ruins by 3pm, we went back to the hotel and read for the after­noon, delighting in quiet time and con­serving our energy for the big adven­ture planned for the next day. We ven­tured out again, hoping to have a good time at the Quechua Blues Bar but it turned out to be atro­cious. After the awful dinner and music, we started back in the rain and dis­covered a live band playing pan pipes and drums,so we stopped in for yummy chocolate cali­ente con rum. 

An early night with plans for a crazy 5am start…