6th South American Email - 07/07/05adios (13.06.05 - 27.06.05)hola amigos,
only been back in gloomy london a week and am already missing the dodgy stray dog burgers, chicken foot soup and the rice, beetroot and fried egg combos. the biggest shock however is the lack of sun, beach, sea and scandos. by way of reminiscing, i feel it is now time to cast my mind back to the last few days in south america...
we filled the time gap between lima and the inca trail with a trip to huaraz... a trekker's / hiker's / walker's paradise with loads of peaks over the 6000m mark and containing (apparently) the most beautiful summit in the world. we spent our time white-water rafting, cycling in the cordillera blanca (andes) and tentatively sipping beers in the extreme bar.
we then headed back to lima and on to cusco (yeah!!!).
we arrived in cusco in good spirits... however a number of setbacks threatened to ruin this high (including booking for wrong day, unable to locate porters, forgetting important papers, arriving at check point after cut-off time - none of this was our fault... honestly)... but eventually and somewhat prematurely we got on to the inca trail.
i was determined to enjoy our last notable act in south america and with this being the culmination of the whole tour and there being nothing to look forward to afterwards, it was easier to "live for the moment" than on previous hikes (which were generally hell). also, a day or two previously, i had read a passage in a book that emphasised these thoughts... i will quote the passage so that you get an idea of my state of mind...
"mountains should be climbed with as little effort as possible and without desire. the reality of your own nature should determine the speed. if you become restless, speed up. if you become winded, slow down. you climb the mountain in an equilibrium between restlessness and exhaustion. then, when you're no longer thinking ahead, each footstep isn't just a means to an end but a unique event in itself. this leaf has jagged edges. this rock looks loose. from this place the snow is less visible, even though closer. these things you should notice anyway. to live only for some future goal is shallow. it's the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top. here's where things grow."
so there i was, floating around, fully immersed in the moment. i was hip. i was groovy. flower-power was convulsing through my body. nothing escaped my attention. leaves were greener. bumble-bees yellower. birds chirpier than dopey after 17 brandy and cokes. jutted snow-capped mountains, silver river valleys, and elegant smooth blue skies were all surely god-breathed. i was over-flowing with natural energy, reaching the top of each of the three the passes on the trail and bounding effortlessly up to further solitary look-out points in order to drench myself with the nirvana that surrounded us.
i walk upon high
and i step to the edge
to see my world below
and i laugh at myself
while the tears roll down
cos it's the world i know
well that was the case for the first three days. on the fourth day i awoke to painful stomach cramps (prob something to do with the meat that the porters had been carrying, unrefrigerated, in their backpacks since the first day). i felt like sh*t... and i needed one. i rushed to the toilet, only to realise that it was a long drop and a squatting technique was required. now this is generally okay... but try squatting for any length of time on tired legs after three days of trekking... it's not easy and pretty soon your bottom is but inches from the urine soaked mud surrounding the drop.
a subsequent learning from the argentinian dude that was trekking with us... brace your arms against the side walls and use them to hold you up. this is all fine and dandy if you have a toilet door that locks... of course the toilet door that i used didn't. what happens if someone tries to enter? three choices... use one of your arms to prevent the door from opening and risk the lob-sided, eileen effect of plunging into one of the adjacent walls... use one of your legs and hope that the remaining grounded three-day-trek-weary leg has enough strength to prevent you from disappearing into the cesspit below... use your head and take the risk of trajectory being too flat and redecorating the wall behind. hmmm...tough choice. thankfully this didn't actually happen to me... just a pondering of one of those "what if" situations that could so easily arise.
anyway, back to camino inka. the last day is a race... people get nasty. the queueing starts at about 4am... the trail only opens at 5.30am. we got there at 5am and were in about 107th place. the healthier guys among us charged and got there in respectable positions. being ill, i couldn't be bothered... i arrived along with 200 or so physically challenged americans who somehow completed the previous three days.
i staggered up (what seemed like) the last 300 million stairs to the sungate. i greeted the sight of macchu picchu with "oh, there it is"... my enthusiasm noticeably constrained by the underpants i was wearing (not often used, but a vitally important piece of equipment when a safety net is required). granted, it is the most impressive set of ruins i have witnessed, but the whole place reeks of tourism and any natural energy or mystical feeling is smothered as a result thereof. personally, the most spectacular and most fulfilling experience is the surrounding scenery... set in amongst towering purple peaks (I counted at least 20 to 30... sorry can't remember exactly) and plunging misty-cloud-filled canyons, this surely is the cradle of the god's creation. i skipped "big willy's" tour and slept most ofthe day.
so that was the world-famous macchu picchu.
pete had subsequently also contracted a few tummy rumbles and we got home and went straight to bed. the next day was admin. that night, being our last night, and feeling better we (foolishly) thought that a few free cuba libres would be the tonic we needed to return to 100%. we joined up with our argentinian mate and went out. nothing much happened other than having a"quality" conversation with some arbitrary girl. that was our last night out in south america... pretty disappointing really.
despite being quite tame, we paid for that night over the next few weeks... the argentinian landed up in hospital for two days with salmonella and another unpronounceable bacterial disease... i had a quite a bad accident and bloody stools... whilst pete suffered from severe stomach cramps.
pretty soon pete flew home and i cruised on to rio to chill for my last four days. i had forgotten how beautiful rio actually is. the sun shines all year round and i swear it does weird things to people's psyche... it makes everyone happy and laid-back and a party animal; it makes 60yr old men dash around volleyball courts for hours on end; it makes guys bigger than hulk hogen want to wear speedos; it makes genes want to produce the most beautiful women ever... and then makes them think they need breast implants; it makes grandpas set up trestle tables on the sidewalks, lay out red and white checked tablecloths, don peaked hats, drink beer out of quart bottles, smoke cigars, and play poker under palm trees as the sun sets; it makes everyone want to play the beautiful game on the beach... and makes everyone good at it; it makes drinking coconut milk from the coconut the most delicious thing on earth; it makes you delay your flight back to london despite suffering from the worst food poisoning ever; and it definitely makes you go brown. as tony the tiger would say, "it's great!!!".
on monday the 27th june i flew home...
some final notes on south america as a whole...
1. every city / town / village has a square... no exceptions. squares are never circles. squares are usually not square. most squares are rectangular. one side of the square always contains a huge run-down catholic church. the other three sides consist of restaurants and touristy shops sheltered in huge arched buildings... unless it's a very small rural town, in which case the other three sides don't consist of restaurants and touristy shops sheltered in huge arched buildings. the centre of the square contains perfectly manicured gardens and trees and a few scattered green benches. the focal point is always some statue of a 17th century spanish conquistador (simon boliviar and franco pizzaro are popular choices) or a fountain that doesn't work. they are cool places to chill in the sun.
2. there is no toilet in south america that can handle toilet paper. i was well confused when i returned to london and there was no bin next to the loo containing fudge smudged bog roll. your used bog roll packing technique definitely improves the longer you are there, but tricky situations always arise... no matter how experienced you are. by far the worst are full bins with revolving tops... this means that you have to force the paper through the lid, trying not touch the paper already in there or flipping used paperout the other side... it's a nightmare... and you learn to wash your hands thoroughly afterwards.
3. a hot shower is a real bonus.
sorry i know i've wasted half your day already with this email (you should have just deleted it)... but i need to include a best and worst list...
best...
1. best song - run... snow patrol (pete); 74 75... ? (steve); the space between... dave matthews (myself); she will be loved... maroon 5 (everyone).
2. best food - quarter chicken and chips... never stray from the tried and tested.
3. best travel accessory - travel pillow... you will catch a lot of busses.
4. best technological accessory - portable speakers... for those times you need to entertain scandos in your room whilst consuming a bottle of bacardi.
5. best number - 7... the number of countries we visited; the number of days in a week; multiply by 2 - david ginola's number; multiply by 3 - the average age of scando girls on tour; multiply by 4, add 173, subtract 9, multiply by 8543, add 2, divide by 0 - the number of times pete came right on tour.
6. best book - the celestine prophecies (depending on who you talk to).
7. best movie - back to the future (in english!!!).
worst...
1. worst song - any ecuadorian pop/rap song... and any israeli song.
2. worst food - bob's burgers... and any israeli food.
3. worst travel accessory - an israeli in the seat next to you.
4. worst technological accessory - an electric toothbrush in the jungle (steve... why?)... and any music producing device in the hands of an israeli.
5. worst number - 2207... the number of isreali's we met.
6. worst book - the celestine prophecies (depending on who you talk to)... and the old testament (sorry... that's a joke).
7. worst movie - the revenge of chucky (in spanish)... and... hmmm... actually there weren't any isreali movies.
so that's it from team sa. for those of you who i will see soon... let's hook up sometime, grab a beer and catch up on past lives. for those of you i won't see soon... let's hook up in a few years time, grab a beer and catch up on past lives.
bye
d
the space between the tears we cry,
is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more.
