Rome.
Carthage.
Constantinople.
Beyond doubt, they are all great capitals of antiquity. Some remain and others have gone.
How about Cusco?
I might have heard of it, but then again it could have been an anonymous conglomerate selling puff pastry on five continents.
We arrived after a long drive from Puno and typically it was getting dark. In the patchy street-lighting a column or two flashed by and a tower emerged here and there from the murk. But still nothing to suggest that we were entering the capital of an empire that once covered a land mass larger than Europe, and which could pass a message on foot, from end to end quicker than the modern Peruvian postal service.
The fourteen generation Inca dynasty had a meteoric rise and just as spectacular a fall - all of which was co-ordinated from the Imperial capital at Cusco. The empire was just stretching its legs by 1450.
In 1532, 180 Spaniards arrived by boat and spoiled it all.
In the time it took the Quecha people - of whom the Inca was king - to scratch their heads and wonder who these strange new arrivals were, the Spanish had killed the king, conquered the fifteen million strong warrior nation, divided up the loot and imported millions of African slaves to work the mines and plantations.
Of course, the Spanish had some good fortune and the Quecha some bad but it stands as the most miraculous capitulation or the most glorious victory against all odds in the history of our species.
Depending on your point of view.
The Inca kings could have achieved almost anything if they had just been left to their own devices and it was against the backdrop of more than several high altitude Cusquena beers that we began to discuss our aspirations.
“I want a relationship on my terms” said one.
“I’m going to ski ‘til my legs fall off” said another.
“I want to drive a truck to Ivory Coast” said a third.
As the Spanish in South America prove, if you put your mind to it, you can achieve anything.
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