A compilation of sites, stories, and strange phenomenon found throughout the world.
These places will make you scratch your head and wonder..how were things like this possible? How did the ancients have the technology to do to stone what we have ne...
This article comes from Great British Nutters and tells a couple tales of Colonel Percey Fawcett. Near the end though, that's where the main focal point of the article im getting to. In order for me to analyze this article and ask my questions about this story, it might help if you got some back story and what led up to Fawcett to look for "The lost city of Z". This city...still remains lost. But...my question for my next blog entry may make it discoverable!
Percy Fawcett: Zed or dead Col Percy Harrison Fawcett"That the cities exist, I know..."– Colonel P H Fawcett
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
PERCY FAWCETT WAS A TOUGH, hard-headed, practical man, there's no doubt of that. He was a soldier and surveyor; a fearless explorer; a first-rate sportsman who played cricket for his county. But this man of action was also an oddball, a dreamer, a mystic of the kookiest kind. He believed in ghosts. He dabbled in the occult. And he was convinced that a Lost World lay undiscovered in the heart of the South American jungle.
Percy called this mysterious place "Z", and finding it was an obsession. He imagined it as a string of exotic tumble-down cities, older than the pyramids of Egypt, buried deep in the Amazon Basin. He believed an advanced people once lived there, set apart from the rest of mankind for millennia, with their own unique arts and sciences and culture. Whoever discovered Z would unlock the door to a pre-historic civilization. He'd turn history on its head. He'd change our understanding of the world forever. If anyone could find a Lost World in virgin rainforest, it was Colonel Percy Harrison Fawcett. A powerfully built man, well over six foot, with an impressive military moustache and steely blue eyes, Percy had earned a reputation in the army as a gritty, courageous eccentric. Born in Devon in 1867, he'd joined the Royal Artillery at nineteen, serving in Ireland, Malta and Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). He worked for the British secret service in North Africa. And in 1906, at the age of thirty-seven, he went to South America for the first time, hired out to the government of Bolivia to survey an area of wild forest on its disputed frontier with Brazil – the job that would change his life. The Amazon can be a terrifying and remote place, even today. Ten times the size of France, there are Indians living there still who've never clapped eyes on a white man. As recently as 2008, uncontacted people were spotted from a surveillance plane flying low over unexplored territory. The painted tribesmen were photographed raising longbows to defend themselves against the aircraft. Back in Percy's day, things were much tougher and far scarier. If a poison-tipped arrow or a dart from a blowpipe didn't kill you, a wild animal probably would. Unless, of course, some obscure tropical disease hadn't finished you off first.
But Percy loved jungle life. And after completing that first surveying job, he plunged back in again and again, in thrall to the rainforest's savage beauty and fascinated by the strange stories of buried treasure and fabulous ruins that he heard from Indians in the interior. Between 1906 and 1925, he led eight epic expeditions to the very wildest parts of Bolivia and Brazil. He always traveled light with scant supplies. He rarely took more than a handful of companions with him. And every one of those mad trips was nothing less than a journey to the depths of hell.
