Weird occurances
Nov. 4th, 2005 11:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annwfynFirstly, the firewall at work appears to have come down and I now have livejournal. I'm not sure why, and I find it slightly unnerving.
Secondly, the book I'm reading ('In Golden Blood' by Stephen Woodworth. Pretty good if you like supernatural thrillers a la 'Bitten' or Anita Blake) has just taken the heroine to Peru. To Cajamarca, to be precise. There is something very odd about reading about a real place within a fantasy setting. Even more so in that the heroine is apparently doing the rounds of the tourist attractions, which of course I went around withquisalan two years ago.
Heroine girl has gone to the hot baths, where Krys and I negotiated over the temperature of our enormous bath (her fondness for hot to the point of boiling, vs my preference for tepid). She's wandered around the prison where the Conquistadors kept the last king of the incas imprisoned before strangling him, and she's probably wandered past the small hotel we stayed in, although she hasn't been there. She probably isn't missing that much. It was a weird sprawling place, with corrogated iron roofs which gave way in places to walkways underneath the open sky. It had that odd musty smell of old wood and too many people, and showers with wires poking out that were meant to heat the water but I think mostly electrocuted people. I was far more afraid of electrocution than dirt, and so mostly just splashed cold water on myself.
I'm remembering the cold, thin air of the Andes, and I've got this incredibly clear memory of just how tiny the hole that the king of the Incas (who's name I can't remember) was kept in. There were cobbled streets everywhere as well, and dozens of street sellers offering food in the street. I remember getting food from one of those vendors, although I can't remember what it is now, only that I liked it and wanted more. It may have been hard boiled eggs of some kind - tiny little eggs with mottled blue egg shells.
It's very odd how these memories come flooding back. And weirder still when it's via a novel about a psychic detective.
I wonder if she'll try and walk the Inca Trail next?
Secondly, the book I'm reading ('In Golden Blood' by Stephen Woodworth. Pretty good if you like supernatural thrillers a la 'Bitten' or Anita Blake) has just taken the heroine to Peru. To Cajamarca, to be precise. There is something very odd about reading about a real place within a fantasy setting. Even more so in that the heroine is apparently doing the rounds of the tourist attractions, which of course I went around with
quisalan two years ago.Heroine girl has gone to the hot baths, where Krys and I negotiated over the temperature of our enormous bath (her fondness for hot to the point of boiling, vs my preference for tepid). She's wandered around the prison where the Conquistadors kept the last king of the incas imprisoned before strangling him, and she's probably wandered past the small hotel we stayed in, although she hasn't been there. She probably isn't missing that much. It was a weird sprawling place, with corrogated iron roofs which gave way in places to walkways underneath the open sky. It had that odd musty smell of old wood and too many people, and showers with wires poking out that were meant to heat the water but I think mostly electrocuted people. I was far more afraid of electrocution than dirt, and so mostly just splashed cold water on myself.
I'm remembering the cold, thin air of the Andes, and I've got this incredibly clear memory of just how tiny the hole that the king of the Incas (who's name I can't remember) was kept in. There were cobbled streets everywhere as well, and dozens of street sellers offering food in the street. I remember getting food from one of those vendors, although I can't remember what it is now, only that I liked it and wanted more. It may have been hard boiled eggs of some kind - tiny little eggs with mottled blue egg shells.
It's very odd how these memories come flooding back. And weirder still when it's via a novel about a psychic detective.
I wonder if she'll try and walk the Inca Trail next?
