What a whirlwind Cusco has been. Everything here in the plaza seems to revolve around spectacle through the senses. During our time in Cusco, I feel all 5 of my senses have been continuously engaged (read: overstimulated) almost all of the time.
Sight: We have seen a lot. The Corpus Christi festival, the churches, the Incan architecture, the art, the mountains, the flags, the costumes, the sunsets over white Christ, the strobe lights of Calle Los Plateros. The colors are brilliant and the sun shines down over everything, lighting up the white walls and reflecting off cars and the Golden Incan in the middle of Plaza Mayor. Peruvian women wear brightly colored outfits, wandering around with baby llamas, lambs and goats trying to get a tourist to buy a photo with them. The city’s flag looks 99% like the Pride Flag, not sure if anyone has told the other about that yet? Viva El Peru is emblazoned on a foothill to the east, I can see it directly out my window. I could also see it directly from the bell tower of the now-destroyed Quorikana. Things are no longer covered in gold (Thanks Spaniards circa Sixteenth century), but the golden rays of sun coat everything in a golden hue twice a day. The sunset from saqsayhuaman felt like Monet had painted the sky himself. Perhaps Inti had something to do with it.
Sound: From our well positioned room in Hotel plaza de Armas we are serenaded just about all day with a combination of different marching band tunes, traffic noise including the infamous police whistle in the morning and evening, cars idling away while people chat and amble by, the yells of street vendors pedaling their wares (umbrellas, stools, inflatable hammers, sugar cane, sweaters and mini llamas to name a few frequent ones). On the streets you hear Spanish and English, but I’ve also heard Quechua, German, Dutch, and a smattering of more I didn’t recognize. The themes that the Corpus Christi marching bands played were religious and unknown to me at some points, but often they played American favorites such as the Universal Group opening tune. Odd to carry your patron saint in too but alas.
Taste: I would be lying to say I’ve had a bad meal in Cusco and I would be remiss to underscore just how incredible the food has been no matter where you eat. We have had a few excellent meals at establishments clearly catering to the tourist flocks, obvious when they immediately hand you an English menu. I’ve also had lunches at the local markets where there barely is a menu. I’ve hand Anticuchos from a street cart and a 7sole fresh pressed juice just about everyday. I can still feel the part of my tongue that was dissolved from the fresh pineapple juice in yesterday’s post-lunch juice stop. Many many pisco sours and a few strong homemade Chilcanos have been enjoyed and then enjoyed even more 10 minutes later. Cusquenos taste better on the terrace wrapped in a blanket watching the sunset. I didn’t like Cherimoya but I try to have Maracuya whenever possible. 
Smell: walking through the streets of Cusco, you are assailed by various welcomed and unwelcome smells. Around lunch and dinner time (especially when I’m really hungry…) the whiffs of roasting meats, fats, salt and fresh breads is heavenly. The smells of the plaza mayor the morning after Corpus Christi were more urine-heavy. The great equalizer in a country where it seems impossible to find a free washroom. Along CuyCuy lane, roasted guinea pigs filled the air. About a street over, the garbage truck emptied out the porta pottys. Not as appetizing to say the least.
Touch: The Inca stone is incredibly smooth and you can run your finger along the perfectly matched seams. The rocks are cool to the touch and you can somehow sense just how big they are. The multitudes of available alpaca products range in softness but they are somehow always softer and more delightful than you thought it would. The mini Llamas feel like little clouds. The streets are uneven under your feet, little rocks placed upright instead of flat (why? For traction?) dig into your feet walking around the cobbled streets. The colonial walls are just as uneven but on the vertical plane, why were the Spanish so bad at building when the Inca were so good?