Once in country, he bounces around the place, sniffing at the legend and trail of the birdmen, who are plentifully depicted on Incan textiles and are well-known in local lore. His travels take him to the overrun tourist mecca of Machu Picchu, an island on Lake Titicaca, into the Atacama Desert to see the spectacular Nazca Lines from the air, into the big city of Lima, the wild frontier town of Iquitos, and finally, upriver into the Amazon. Along the way, he meets an astonishing array of characters, from llama drivers, snake handlers, shamans, and grave robbers, to mad professors, European vagabonds seeking spiritual enlightenment, a lovestruck waitress, and finally, his guide, a grizzled Vietnam vet.

Early on it seems evident that the flying is metaphorical, and is accomplished by ingesting some industrial-grade hallucinogens distilled from tropical plants, but Shah manages to keep the quest interesting nonetheless. He manages to combine wide-eyed enthusiasm, curiosity and eagerness, with scholarly research and a brusque wariness. Hes also quite self-deprecating and knows just when a touch of humor is needed to liven up the narrativeówhich often involves his meals. As in his other books, his trip is an engrossing one, and he ends abruptly upon reaching his goal.

Shah travels on foot/lamas through Machu Picchu, Lake Titicaca, Nazca (where the "Nazca Lines," or geoglyphs, are located), Lima, Iquitos, and on boat along the Amazon and Corrientes rivers. A lot of research regarding flight history, Incan history, natural history, and local tribes were put into the monograph, evidenced by frequent remarks of classics within the passages and also by the bibliography at the end of the book. Shahs depiction of what he observed is lively, humorous, and most of all, engaging -- and precisely because it was engaging, I was kept in suspense over what the "final truth" of the birdmen might be.

The ending was compelling, but can be controversial. Instead of plainly stating facts as in usual travel logs, Shah takes a literary route and leaves the readers at the very climax of his journey. By this I mean the author not recording his way back, nor attempting to explain what he had discovered. I really liked the way it is as it left much space for me to imagine (besides, what could the author possibly contribute to a field -- the theory behind the origins of the Nazca Lines -- where the norm is speculation?).

If you are open to such literary deviations, this book is a great read, and I recommend it wholeheartedly.

As it happens, this also dovetails with Shahs interest in flight (...), and after some serious research into scant legends of pre-Wright flight, he takes the Frenchmans advice.

Shah, born into Afghan nobility, brought up in Britain, combines a neophytes wariness with a a scholars penchant for research and a dogged will to follow the clues anywhere. As a writer, his gift for capturing the absurd is surpassed only by his ability to laugh at himself, making for an aborbing, educational and hilarious trip through the remoter regions of Peru and Inca culture.

Ridiculously over-supplied, Shah struggles with his mounds of luggage from campsite to crowded bus and train, from dusty village to timeless ruins to, at last, the jungles of the Amazon rain forest. To start, a four-day backpacking trip across mountain passes brings him to sunrise over the lost Inca city of Macchu Pichu, missed by the gold-hunting conquistadors, but overrun by busloads of modern tourists. Here Shah examines a temple dedicated to the condor, but his guide tells him his obsession with flight misses the point. " Whether the Incas flew or not is irrelevant, she said. Instead, you must ask why they wanted to fly. " Shah takes this advice to heart and incorporates the spiritual element into his quest.

Passing the time with shopkeepers, launderers, expatriates and anyone else who crosses his path, Shah acquires good luck totems and encounters the looted graves of Perus mummies, the mummies themselves littering the ground. In small museums he finds hundreds of woven birdmen in the mummies exquisite funerary robes. He pauses in a town famous for vampires (to tourists anyway) and stays in a deserted luxury hotel, haunted by a bloodthirsty ghost. He reaches his own conclusions about the Nazca Lines, ancient desert etchings of animals whose forms can only be seen from the sky. He meets several shaman, one of whom cures Shahs troubled mind with a rite which involves a guinea pig and a prohibition against shaking hands for 40 days. Others use datura or curare.

Meandering, Shah makes his way toward the Shuar, the Birdmen, who live still in the remote jungle. A group of missionaries was murdered only the previous month for arriving with empty hands, hes told. Loaded with gifts as well as his state-of-the-art gear, Shah at last embarks in search of the tribes and their ayahuasca, a mind-altering "Vine of the Dead," their secret of flight.

His guide is a taciturn naturalist and Vietnam vet, an American named Richard, who seldom sleeps. The mysteries of nature are Richards passion...Their transportation is a half-rotten hulk and after their first night, Shah discovers his shoes have been gnawed by rats. He decrees death to the rodents but the boat is shortly overrun with cockroaches and then wolf spiders - staples of the rats diet. At a shoreside village, Shah buys new rats.

This is only the beginning. After arriving at his first Shuar village (...) Shah is taken to a shaman in the jungle and his description of the trip perfectly captures the difficulty of the modern traveler: "..." By the time he arrives at the Shamans village he contemplates taking up life there. "..." But only here, deep in its natural home, can he fulfill his desire and learn the Shuars ancient secret of flight.

Readers of Shahs previous book, "Sorcerers Apprentice" (a quest for magic in India) will recognize his unique affinity for the bizarre and surreal encountered while fulfilling his avid curiosity for the knowledge and traditions of other cultures. His writing is elegant, witty and often enigmatic and his eyewitness information is enhanced with meticulous research, seamlessly woven into the narrative. Shahs travel writing is in a class by itself.

After some research, he starts, of course, at the current hotspot for archeological tourism, Machu Picchu, which he finds looks from above like a condor. He goes to Nazca, the region of the famous patterns in the desert that only make sense when seen from high above. He is pursued by a Parisienne who is looking for a father for her children, and who comes equipped with a dried lama fetus which can be made, she says, into an aphrodisiac soup. In the village of Trompeteros, he attends with all the citizens the beauty contest sponsored by Inca Brand Condoms. (The master of ceremonies declares that the beauties on the stage were "clean-living girls who always used an Inca condom.") The crowd goes wild over every entrant, especially number six, who for the talent portion performs a dance which includes sucking live tree grubs from the floor and eating them. The search loops around into the upper Amazon regions, when Shah is convinced that rather than physical flight, the birdmen were psychic, or psychedelic, fliers. The experts in such flying were the Shuar tribe, the headshrinkers themselves. He finds a Vietnam vet who is only at home in the jungle, to act as guide and to hire a boat, which turns out to be rotten and full of rats and wolf spiders. After a trip of hellish tortures, they wind up in Shuar country only to be shocked: the Shuars have not only given up headshrinking and other tribal rituals, they have not only become Christians, but they have become evangelists. The missionaries have not, however, taken what would have been the fatuous step of trying to make the tribesmen abstain from ayahuasca, a hallucinogen. Shahs trip on it is the climax of the book. Yes, there were Inca birdmen.

This is a hilarious, picaresque tale which is not without its scholarly moments; Shah has done a good deal of research, and even has appendices to tell about hallucinogens and the theory of shrunken heads. There is a good deal of more-or-less practical information; read this book and you will ever after be able to perform a simple check to tell a good shrunken head from a bad one. His Vietnam vet dispenses the Five Rules of Jungle Travel: "One: chop stems downward and as low to the ground as possible; then theyll fall away from the path. Two: go slow, as speed only snags you on fish-hook thorns. Three: rest frequently and drink liquid. Four: love the jungle, dont hate it. Five: check your groin for parasites twice an hour." Words to live by. And if, by chance, the closest you get to a jungle expedition is to be reading this merry recollection, you will consider yourself lucky.

There is a legend that a great bird which, if found, would confer ultimate fulfillment for the seeker. It drops a feather within the mundane where an ordinary man or woman may find it, and, from this single clue, find the fabulous bird. This theme was exploited by Stephen Spielberg in "Close Encounters of the Third Time," where Richard Dryfus begins with the slightest hint of a meeting place he must attain for a rendexvous with superior beings beyond earth, then slowly, intuitively builds a model of the site until he recognizes the place and goes there, arriveing just in time.

While TRAIL OF FEATHERS is ostensibly a literal, if zany, hike through the jungles of Peru in search of the reality behind winged men woven into the ancient textiles of the region, it bears all of the elements of a mythic search for ultimate meaning. Several contacts scold the author for his obsession with flying, which, they say, is nothing. All that counts, they tell him, is the reason for flight and the treasure brought back to earth.

The authors search for the flying men of Peru seems akin to the Australian aboriginee "walk about." As Shah again and again chooses the most uncomfortable means of travel and lodging, I could not help suspecting that his was a ritual journey and that the trail, not the feathers nor the flying, was the destination.

Reading what seemed quite similar to Latin American "magical reality," I learned an enormous amount about Perus real history, geography and its people--far more, I felt, than I could have learned in any other format, unless I went there myself and took the same risks as the author. That he emerged alive would seem to place the whole tale in question but for the Vietnam vet and jungle expert who shows up just in time to guide Shah and to keep him alive in the process. I got the feeling that there was a hidden hand behind this particular journey. I dont mean mysticism. Hints, such as the ease with which Shah could replenish as needed lost money, point to a human infastructure. The book not only solves dozens of mysteries. Its reading was for me a mysterious journey in its own right.