Rio is famous for a lot of things. One of which is the Carnival. But that Carnival is not found just in Rio, but all over South America. And Cusco is no exception. But the way that they celebrate here is with water and shaving cream. More correctly, finding some unsuspecting sop and then ensuring that the target is absolutely drenched! The Peruvians take it all in good spirits and laugh while wiping the shaving cream or water off themselves. But some of the travellers we had seen getting the same treatment, saw it as an assault of some kind! The pure look of horror, followed quickly by rage usually ensured that the Carnival celebrators avoided any travellers.

We decided the best way to beat them was to join them. Armed with newly purchased water pistols, we were ready to face the mean streets of Carnival Cusco. We had a bus to catch and it was deep in Carnival territory! Since a white face is deemed to not be "in the spirit" of things and is therefore avoided, any Peruvian we got was very pleasantly surprised and pleased to have some "gringos" getting stuck in! The smiles and the laughs and the genuine pleasure that they showed was reward enough for getting stuck in!

But the best was yet to come. To get to Ollantaytambo, our nightstop, and home to some of the Sacred Valley's most impressive ruins and the longest continually inhabited town from deep in the Inca times, we had to get a local mini-bus before changing at a junction hub of a town. Waiting in the line for a bus to take us where we needed to go, two little ones were taking their first tentative steps with cans of shaving cream. They were very happy trying to get to grips with these massive cans in their hands and operating the depression mechanisms. More often than not, their shrieks of laughter and delight and exploding foam, attracted us to look at how they tended to get it all over themselves and not on their intended target!

Since I am actually 12 years old, and Ing is too, we decided that the queue for the bus was a prefect place to use our fully loaded water pistols! All and sundry were targets of our Carnival spirit! Naturally the little ones saw what we were doing and choose us as their shaving cream targets. Little did we know that we would be sharing a mini-bus with their mothers and extended family. The most guilty culprits being the grannies who orchestrated the whole thing! Who would have thought? Clearly the wrinkle lines around their eyes were from endless years of mirth-making and not the sun!

Who had just as wicked sense of humour as we did! Before long, the shaving foam wars had erupted and the whole inside at the back, and later the front of the mini-bus was covered in foam. Nobody was spared the wrath of the water-pistols and the shaving foam! For an hour and a half, we had a fight of epic proportions but in absolutely fantastic spirits and much belly aching laughter, shrieking and gasped of ambushed surprise!

By the time it came to change the bus for another, we had laughed until we cried and our bellies ached. The little ones had exhausted every shaving foam can they could find. A better trip we have not had, nor likely to find again! While we travelled along the road, even the taxi was bombarded with water bombs and shaving foam! Nobody, and nothing was immune!

In Ollantaytambo, Ing decided to continue the fun and skirt me, the unsuspecting one, with her water pistol. Little did she know that I saw and managed to get out the way! The town's chief of police, on the other hand, was not so observant or so lucky! He was chatting to a colleague at a table next to us and received the full blast! Fortunately, his was a sunny disposition and he waved it off. But he quickly dried off in the glow of Ing's huge embarrassment!

Ollantaytambo is named after the general that the emperor despatched here to build a religo-military complex that guarded the approaches to Machu Picchu. General Ollantay saw the construction of the complex through. As it was built at the height of the Inca Empire, the construction and engineering applications are very impressive. The religious temples located high up the valley wall, deep in the complex were quarried across the valley and even higher up. We heard that if you look in the right places, you can see the remains of the ramps that were used to get them from quarry to final resting place. But we took only take their word for it because curtains of rain descended as the clouds marched down valleys as they obscured the high peaks in their shrouds.

Rather than detract from being here, it only enhanced it. Those that were there soon scuttled off, jumped in their buses and headed off wherever they came from. We that were left behind could marvel in the skill and ability of the Inca builders and engineers and soak up the atmosphere of this old place. Wherever you wonder through the ruins, you cannot help but appreciate how impressive the Incas were.

The valley walls are lined with terraced constructed then bulging with crops; a smaller side valley looks like a terracotta patchwork quilt. Here the Incas built thousands of tiny terraced pans that cling to the sides of the valley and are still being used to produce fine grained salt. In its hey-day, Inca salt was highly prized and sought after, and this agro-production complex was highly valued. All of the salt being produced by an extremely advanced knowledge of nature and agriculture.

Knowing that valley floors were damp and wet, the Incas built their warehouses higher up where the air was drier and warmer. Today, the ruins look like they just need a little TLC and a renovator's "can-do" attitude and the result would be something that you might find in an exotic location anywhere in the world!

Wherever you are in this little valley town, you are forever reminded of the Inca influence. The roads criss-cross each other at perfect right angles and are cobbled with gutters that drain the rushing rain and river water away from the walking areas so that the surfaces do not become swamps and quagmires. The base of the walls of large blocks of granite that are so well put together that their was no need of a binding mortar. But when you are as good as the Incas, who needs mortar?

Have you ever heard Queen's "A crazy little thing called love"? I think that Queen captured an ageless feeling that intoxicates and the general was no exception. He fell for the Emperor's daughter and they fell head over heels in love. But the Emperor took exception and the end result was a civil war between old friends, the decline of Ollantaytambo and the eventually demise of the Inca Empire.

Love. A crazy little thing, eh?