Yes, those funny little South American Indian chaps who all of a sudden upped sticks and buggered off to who knew where, leaving behind a few poxy pyramids and a pretty depressing prophecy of mankind's imminent demise.
Bear with me and I'll fill you in.
We docked in Stavanger (backwards! I guess the Captain was on the pop last night too and decided to do a handbrake turn.) A pretty place, quite a bustling little city really. I say city because it has its own cathedral, although not much bigger than most places parish church back home. Had a wander round, the dockside, the old town, the market...
'No!' I hear you cry, 'Not the market! Isn't Kate with you?'
Well yes she is and thank you for your concern, but thankfully the bank have blocked her card because she didn't tell them that she was going away - shame!
Anyway, I digress. Who should be at the aforementioned market but a few South American Indians selling woollen goods from their stalls. You know the sort of thing, woolly pullies with nicely embroidered geometric patterns or knitted Canadian Moose on the front. O.k - they may be Elk, let's not get too pedantic! You could also buy those knitted caps with the ear flaps and long dangly tassels that serve no discernible purpose whatsoever.
Which got me to thinking - you see I've been to Madeira, another cruise ship resort, and who do you bump into at the top of the mountain selling the same stuff 'cos the chances are it may turn a bit chilly and you left your jumper at the beachfront hotel because you never had the foresight to think it might be a tad colder two thousand feet up. You got it - the Mayans! They're down at the seafront too, roasting chestnuts and playing the bloody pan pipes, trying to flog you a C.D that you'll never play again once you get home.
What enterprise! You can't knock 'em for it, can you!
'Hold on!' Yes I know what you're going to say, 'Where do they get the wool from?'
I'm ahead of you there, I've seen a poster - you'll never guess what they have here in Norway.
Yes really! Woolly things that spit at you. No, I don't know how you would go about shearing a Llama now you ask, they manage it somehow, but very, very carefully I should think.
So there we have it - Mayans, Llamas and a misunderstanding, there never was a prediction for the end of Mankind, it was the date on their business plan when they thought that they might break even. Let's face it you have to offset the value of sales against the cost of purchasing, feeding and stabling a herd (is it a herd or a 'gob') of Llama's and take into account the wages of a tribe of knitting South American nana's.
Well let's face it - they were really shit at building pyramids.
Stick with me folks, you don't get stuff like this on the Open University!