The plane takes off through the thick ocean cloud that blankets Lima most of the year round. After around 15 minutes the high Andean mountains begin to poke through and the cloud clears. The floor below looks close, probably because it is; the plateau is at around 3000m above sea level.

Cusco airport is small, just a luggage belt, a couple of tour desks, and a stall offering free oxygen. The lack of air is noticeable, and the usual airport rush to the baggage reclaim takes the pace of a funeral march - walking quickly is simply too tiring. I lose quite a lot of my sun lotion as it de-pressurises when I open the lid.

The old centre of Cusco is a charming place. Streets designed for llamas are narrow and cobbled, with plazas dotted between them. The Plaza del Armas, the main square, was home to many Incan palaces when Cusco was considered the navel of the world. This doesn't sound all that appealing, but I think they were referring to its location in the empire. Once the Spanish showed up they demolished the palaces, taking six months to melt all the gold and set about building churches and later restaurants, internet cafes and camping supplies shops. It is still, however, an attractive square, and has been described as "the most beautiful monument to sheer brutality and bigotry in the whole world."

Cusco is essentially something like base camp for Machu Picchu, so much of the town centre is touristy. Some of the locals are dressed traditionally, although the most elaborate ones carrying baby alpacas are in the "photo five solés" business.

Inspired by the Peruvian Last Supper in Lima I take the opportunity to sample some cuy: guinea pig. It's tricky to eat, imagine chicken wings with less meat, more bones, and more funny looking bits. There's definitely a taste of liver, although this could be because I'm eating the liver. The parts are difficult to identify and I'm no zoologist. As is natural in Peru it's served with some potatoes.