Treasures of Peruby Irene Butler Our prop-plane droned, dipping its left wing and then its right for passengers on both sides of the craft to get a good view. A burly fellow named Angel was our pilot – I felt safe. He pointed out the gigantic geoglyphs as we neared each one. “Do you see the spider? The monkey?” “Next  will be the bird with a wingspan of over 100m.” My mind swirled with the wonder of the ancient Nasca people’s mastery of geometry as these forms, dug into the landscape 1000 years ago, can only be recognized for what they are from an airplane; an enigma that modern experts are unable to explain. The 60’s theory that the Nasca Lines were landing strips for extraterrestrials has faded, but for sure the most perplexing figure is that of a helmeted astronaut.
My husband Rick and I found the marvels along our route through Peru as varied as the gems used to decorate an Inca temple.  Colca Canyon, twice the depth of the Grand Canyon, is home to the Andean condor, a bird so large they depend on the thermal air currents to aide their flight. We waited…and waited….and were rewarded with a sight to behold – a graceful ballet of condors soaring, dipping and diving in the search of food and I’m sure for the sheer pleasure of being airborne.
Lake Titicaca is a name all school kids know and giggle at, even if most do not know it straddles the coast of Peru and Bolivia. The day of our boat excursion to two islands was perfect. The calm waters competed with the sky for the deepest shade of blue.  “Step carefully” our guide Juan said. I warily stepped onto the spongy surface of totora reeds which are cut and layered to make the base of the Uros (floating islands). Everything is made from the reeds: houses, furniture, boats with Viking-like dragonhead bows.
Juan explained the “why” of this water-world, “The Uros people took refuge here to escape Inca domination, and later to avoid Spanish slave labour in silver mines.”  We next cruised to the isle of Taquile, whose citizens speak the old Quechua language and hold strong to tradition in dress and their way of life. Listen up fellows – the men do the knitting; learning the trade from boyhood. The terraced slops of the small hills grow crops of potato and quinoa. Sheep and goats dot the grassy knolls.
 Our adventure culminated at the Inca marvel of Machu Picchu. My heart pounded, not only from the exertion of the upward climb, but from the thrill of ascending the same stairway as the ancient dwellers of this citadel. Over the rise the grandeur of the ruins sprawled across the jungle ridge below. My eyes scanned the garden terraces, the streets and stairways running between the edifices. A mist cloaked Huayna Picchu, the huge mountain that looms over the city.
Descending into the royal temple areas, I rubbed my hand over the walls of granite awed by the precision masonry. In the rougher stone houses the pulsing energy of workers was almost tangible. A sun shower flooded the city with magical hues. I wondered if the Incas stopped what they were doing in this very spot and gazed at the same spectacular view. Loaded with alpaca toques for our Canadian friends at home, it was back to the electric city of Lima, and the end of our adventure. “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the places and moments that take our breath away.” In the treasure troves of Peru – there were plenty of those moments. For more information:http://www.peru.info/perueng.asp http://www.destination360.com/south-america/peru/peru.php | 