Turn Right at MacHu Picchu 12-Copy Floor Display - Mark Adams [17]
Shortly after arriving, Bingham learned that word had been sent out from Lima that the American delegado to the scientific conference—a doctor from a prestigious institution—was to receive the warmest hospitality from local officials. This included a guided tour of Sacsahuaman, the extraordinary stone edifice that overlooks Cusco.
It’s safe to say that if it still looked as it did in the sixteenth century, Sacsahuaman, and not Machu Picchu, would be the most famous archaeological site in the Western Hemisphere. At its peak, historian John Hemming has suggested, the quarter-mile-long structure—a massive, three-tiered citadel with three towers at the center, constructed in the imperial-quality stonework that the Incas reserved for their most important buildings—would have resembled a gigantic granite battleship. Huge, perfectly carved boulders remain fixed in the original zigzag walls. One has been estimated to measure twenty-eight feet in height and to weigh more than three hundred tons. The blocks seem even more incredible in that when the Incas wanted to move something big, they pulled it themselves. Even after generations of local builders had carried off any stones not too large to budge, Bingham was stupefied by what he saw. “There are few sights in the world more impressive than these Cyclopean walls,” he wrote. “What remains is the most impressive spectacle of man’s handiwork that I have ever seen in America.” When I visited with Alex a hundred years later, it was hard to disagree.
Continuing with his itinerary, Bingham departed Cusco for Ayacucho, the site of Bolívar’s final crushing defeat of the Spanish forces in 1824. The road he followed had once been a major Inca thoroughfare; Francisco Pizarro, the wily Spanish conqueror of Peru, had endured its roller-coaster climbs and descents on his way to the Inca empire’s capital. As it often does near Cusco, the topography transformed almost immediately. “The trail, a rocky stairway not unlike the bed of a mountain torrent, led us rapidly into a warm tropical region whose dense foliage and tangled vines were grateful enough after the bleak mountain plateau,” Bingham wrote. “Parti-colored lantanas ran riot through a maze of agaves and hungry creepers. We had entered a new world.”
Four days out of Cusco, Bingham’s party was given an enthusiastic welcome in the town of Abancay. The local prefect, J. J. Nuñez, buttonholed the visitor and begged him to make a detour to Choquequirao—an old Inca fortress that clung to a steep ridge more than a mile above the roaring Apurimac River, a glacier-fed source of the mighty Amazon. The name Choquequirao means “cradle of gold” in Quechua. Nuñez had raised thousands of dollars to blaze a trail to the nearly inaccessible ruins and take part in what was—and still remains—one of the great Peruvian pastimes: searching