The only signs of cultivation are a few rows of
dried up corn stalks, a cherimoya tree near the entrance of the
house. To our left, the high Andes, the tops invisible in the mist,
to our right the land falls away steeply to the Guayabamba river
far below, too far away to hear the torrent of white water struggling
to find its way to the coast in the west.
After a steady ascent we finally arrived at the
hacienda. This place was amazing, built more than 300 years ago
by Jesuits. The cloister-like building is quite formidable. One
metre thick walls surround the inner stone paved courtyard with
a traditional sundial in the centre. A wide veranda shades the room.
Bougainvillea covers much of the veranda posts, the strong purple
of its flowers contrasting with the distant blues of the cloud-covered
mountains in the distance. If these walls could only tell their
story! We were told that early last century the buildings were used
as a breeding colony for slaves. In fact the slave quarters are
still there, but nowadays used for the raising of cattle..
Kiwis In The Mist
