I had a bit of a peculiar experience today, I was walking back from the bank minding my own business when I came face to face with a flashback.
A campesino (farmer, although over here not part of the Range Rover/Aga brigade) blocked my way and when I looked at him he was the spitting image of someone I used to work with back in my glory days in England.
This English guy, I'll call him Brian for the sake of this story (and also because his name was Brian), had the thickest glasses and gurniest grin of anyone I have ever met.
The campesino too, had lenses like bullet proof glass and a strangely familiar grin.
It got me wondering if my old life is slowly being played out here in Cusco and that all the locals are people from my past decked out in pointed wooly hats and ponchos.
Next time I see the leather faced local I will check to see if his poncho has any claret and blue in it, the clincher for my theory.