Another hotel, another scrambled egg ... but at least the coffee was almost passable!
We head out to Atuhalpha's Rescue Room, a short walk downtown. This is where the captured King of the Incas was held by the Spanish and where he promised them he would fill the room with gold and silver to the height of him standing with his arm raised as if searching for a key on a high shelf.
Atuhalpha made good on his promise while the Spanish reneged, killed him, massacred his followers and set about forcibly converting the continent to Catholicism. Such is human nature ...
We undertake the visitor circuit of the town and in the last venue there is an intriguing musical instrument that was shown in a picture over our table at breakfast - a long ?bamboo tube with a gourd bell at one end and a trumpet-like, bamboo mouth-piece at the other.
As all the signage is in Spanish and our guide, Carlos, has less English than I have Spanish, we are at something of an impasse.
Then we strike off to Cumba Mayo, an aqueduct and area of environmental interest a few miles and a lot of dental surcharges from Cajamarca.
On the way we pass a couple of local kids sitting by the roadside, one of whom has one of these instruments across his lap, while his brother has a drum and large recorder.
We pull up and they strike up!
Their first tune finishes and we all applaud, which you could tell wasn't exactly what they had been expecting, and didn't really know how to handle.
They start tune 2 and Carlos starts to dance and beckons to the boys' mother to join him. Her initial reluctance swiftly melts and she's grinning and dancing a kind of a square dance. Alfie joins in and the band's chugging along nicely. A couple of other tourists* on motorbikes slow to observe and the show comes to an end, with something more tangible for the band this time.
Kisses, handshakes and waves are exchanged as we depart, our spirits much lifted.
The tour focuses on the geological nature of the area's metamorphic rock formations, and how the local people valued technological knowledge over artefacts. This was evident from the watercourse manipulation and aqueduct built between 1000 BC and 1200 AD.
Local families have stationed themselves along the trail and sell weavings, drinks, sweets, anything for a penny in fact. They seem different from the other Peruvians we've seen, wide-eyed, high cheek-boned and ruddy complexioned, and at this altitude their way of life is possibly unchanged for centuries as a number of fields are being ploughed by bullocks and the women at least dress traditionally.
After a late lunch we head out for ice cream and visit the small market off the Plaza del Armas. Sarah spots a straw hat of traditional design that we have seen on the heads of the older, traditionalist Peruvians of the region, but never in shops. Also in the shop are ceramic representations of someone playing the instrument we heard earlier and it's a Clarin, made from dried and hollowed sugarcane. It must be a minimum of 3m in length with a gourd for the bell and a sugarcane mouth-piece.
So in the space of 12 hours I have come across a musical instrument I had never seen before in a museum, watched it being played live by an eight year old on the roadside and uncovered its name and construction in a market-place a short spit from the museum. It's like I'm Jack f**king Bauer!
*Sarah pointed out that of all the visitors to the aqueduct and the Cajamarca visitor circuit we were the only non-Peruvians. The overwhelmingly vast majority of visitors to Kuelap too were Peruvian. National pride? Quite right too!