We waited at Ollantaytambo in the sacred or Urubamba valley. Before
the train came, vendors paced the lines. They raised bright wool
before our eyes--sweaters, hats, hangings--and sold them with smiles,
and, "Good prices. Baby Alpaca. Very nice." So focused were we on
our goal-- reaching Machu Picchu, the old mountain--that there were
few takers. Besides, we had enough at home to keep us warm. Later
it occurred to me to buy some, for this very reason, and my father
showed me how and when to negotiate a decently bad price.