Cusco and Organic Farming Volunteering

Arriving at sunrise in Cusco with Lizzie, Charlotte, and Patricia, we cabbed to our hostel Loki. I stayed in another Loki in Mancora, but this was another branch. It was definitely a different style, but still the same party atmosphere. We threw down our bags and grabbed food, while planning our day.

“Cusco was the site of the historic capital of the Inca Empire (13th century-1532) and was declared a World Heritage Site in 1983 by UNESCOMany believe that the city was planned and designed in the shape of a puma, a sacred animal.“
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cusco

We were all tired because of the trek we just finished, but we had to meet up with Charlotte’s contact to book our Machu Picchu hike. Jason from Chicago took a different bus, but met up with us to do the booking. As we walked downhill to the main square, we could over look the entire city and its beauty. One could feel the spiritual electricity in the city already. This was a place of culture, tradition and as lame as it sounds, magic of some sorts. Getting to the bottom near the Plaza San Francisco, we passed a long line that lapped back and forth doubling up everywhere. For some reason we thought it was something to do with voting because the election was soon and seriously the amount of people in line looked like it could have been half the population. Finally we asked someone and it turns out it was for a futbol (soccer) game coming up! Everyone really does love the sport here. Along the way, many companies tried to sell us deals on hikes, but we decided to test this one out first. We met up with Charlotte’s contact (I think friend of aunt or something) at the Plaza de Armas (main centre city square) and she took us to her agency. The head guy explained everything to us, but something wasn’t adding up. We were able to rent sleeping bags though, free of charge. The hike was going to be 4 days and 3 nights. After everyone pumped the company man with questions, we settled on agreeing to this plan and paid on the spot in cash.

The rest of the day we split up to do our different things. I went to get a massage, since my legs felt super tight and like I sprained both my legs’ muscles doing the Colca Canyon hike. So many local people sell you massages because in Cusco, everyone goes to see Mach Picchu and comes back exhausted. The facilities are nice, but it’s obviously not the same as Canada; however, it is a 4th of the price. For a while there wasn’t enough pressure, but then it started to hurt. In the end it was okay, but my legs were worn out and it hurt to walk. The other girls got waxing done, but I couldn’t be bothered with that.

This wall you'll find on your way to the San Blas District in the middle of Cusco's city centre. It is original Inca construction and still intact as if they were just built.



As we were getting ready that night to go to the bar literally facing our room from across the courtyard, an American guy came in to switch rooms and he said he started to volunteer to work there, so he was a bartender. We were pretty tired, but hadn’t gone out to drink in what felt like a long while, so we were convinced to go to the pub. I ran into a really cool Finnish girl in Arequipa I met at my hostel. She was 25 and travelling by herself too, but off soon to meet back with her boyfriend in Spain. The other girls met this great late 20s couple somewhere too and we all gathered together. It was a Thursday night, the music got turned up, and the events of the evening were “Pub Games.” There were obstacle courses with a shot prize at the end, musical chairs (that got pretty violent) and then a massive game of drunken twister. People were getting elbows in the eye and knees in their backs and I just sat back and watched this hilarious nonsense unfold in front of me. After that was finished, we created a dance floor in the center of the pub, which got everyone railed up even more. The next thing I know, I am marching our of the hostel in a mob of people to cabs going to a dance club called “Mama Afika’s” near the centre city square. There were sloppy hugs, comical dance moves, followed by bar dancing. It was packed with Loki hostal people. Sunrise broke and whoever was left got cabs back to the top of the hill where our hostel was.





The next day everyone was pretty incapable of moving. I had to look up flights to go back to Buenos Aires because that’s where I had to fly out of to go back to Canada. The Canadian girls I met from Edmonton were going to be there when I was, so I needed to book my ticket to have enough time to party with them before I left. I remember feeling a bit sick, but going to explore by myself. I really felt like I needed some time to reflect and be by myself. Being tired and hungover only adds to those feelings. I was thinking a lot of back home and actually getting excited for Christmas and to be with my family. As much as I loved where I was at the moment, the holidays would be very difficult to spend away from them. I went to a cute café called The Real McCoy to catch up on emails, my blog and figure out my thoughts for the remainder of my trip. While I was walking back, I ran into the bartender guy with a few friends and he convinced me to go out for dinner with them and apparently the other girls were meeting us there too. It was a cute place near the centre city square and I had an amazing tomato basil soup and salad. It really was delicious, but didn’t feel like eating too much. We all walked back, which was always a challenge because of the super steep hill. I was feeling that I needed more “me” time, but wanted to get up early in the morning to do some organic farming volunteering I saw posted on the bulletin board. I really try to commit to my word and do what’s possible to follow through. I figured it was a indication for me to do this, since before I left, I signed up for WWOOFing (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) in Argentina and Brazil, but my trip took a different turn and I didn’t end up doing it. This was something I had to do.

I woke up to what seemed like super early after a rough night’s sleep or rowdy people and people in our room being loud walking in and out slamming the door. I got down stairs, ate breakfast and drank my coffee real fast, but all while talking to these 2 really sweet girls, who just got back that morning from Machu Picchu. It was awesome to hear their stories and encouragement about the whole trek. We signed up for the Salkantay trek, which I just found out was the hardest one offered, oh boy. I went to the main entrance to meet the group, but there was a time mix-up. One sign said 9am, the other said 10am. I was an hour early the front desk admitted, since it really started at 10am. So I hung around, but my tiredness kicked in already.
Finally we all gathered together and there were about 8 of us total including our hippie guide. He worked at an organization that does a bunch of volunteer projects – building, teaching English, farming etc… we seriously all packed into his mini hippie van and took off into the mountains. It was more than an hour drive, since his van could only go so fast. There were 2 guys from Vancouver Island, who were the typical stoners; funny and kind of annoying at the same time. 2 guys were brothers from Australia. There was a Swedish girl and a Portuguese girl and me. The view was spectacular and inspiring; this is their farmland.



We arrived and had an introduction to the crops they grew at the massive farm. We saw all the varieties of potatoes and beans they grow. Also we learnt about the different medicinal plants and their beneficial properties. This just solidified the fact that anything (or most) suffering or bothering symptoms can be cured naturally. We looked around the place, I was in awe by the view and then we moved up the road to their fields and main site.













Once we got there, the farmers showed us their guinea pig farm. This animal is a pet to us, but eaten as a specialty in Peru. Apparently you can eat them after 4 months age… They were super cute and I would never eat one. You have to separate the family clans, or they will fight. When they breed, they usually have 1 or 2 babies. The next time, they produce 3 or 4 babies and it goes up the more times they breed. Guinea pigs’ life span is usually 2 years though…

Afterwards we went and gathered their homemade manure made from the guinea pigs’ decomposed dung. We carried bag after bag over to the potato field we were helping fertilize that day. While we were walking once down the little street to the field, some teenage school boys were seriously pointing and giggling at me and the two other girls. Soon after, our guide translated that it’s still unusual for a female to work in the fields and do hard labour like this, so they were laughing at us and made teasing comments to the farmer. It was weird that this was the case because I’ve seen older women working hard, but maybe it’s because it was their land they were maintaining. Once I got to the fields, I was in wonder. These farmers completely lived off their land and so did the locals. Rolling hills blanketed in rows with sowed seeds. The skies were blue and the fields were a striking green. This really was an impressive site. We threw down the manure into a pile and were put to work. Our tasks were to place the manure in a “banana” moon (semi circle) shape around the plant, so when the rainfalls, the manure shifts downward onto the plant. It wasn’t difficult, but it was time consuming and you were bent over the entire time. I can’t believe these farmers did all their fields manually like this. As the day continued, the Brazilian girl and I became close and were each others look-out while they were peeing.









The farmers gave us some some special homemade chicha (purple corn drink) that was actually mixed with quinoa. Apparently the farmers use this drink for lift energy levels and give it to growing children; quinoa has a lot of protein. After a bit more work, it was time for our late afternoon lunch. We tasted some of their different potatoes they grew and homemade sauces and spreads for them. One was avocado and spicy and another was made with beans (I think. Both delicious and filling. We went outside to the back forest and they picked some fruit for us to try. They were the traditional passion fruit called “Maracuya.” The little bits inside you eat explode your taste buds and the flavor is sort of like those fuzzy peach candies. While I was picking apart one and eating it, there were these little boys that came over to see us white people and sat down on a log. They were the cutest and laughing together having big smiles on their face. I took a picture of them, but in return, gave them 2 Oreos each.













We packed up the supplies into the hippie van and took off back to the hostel. I was covered in dirt, sweaty, and couldn’t be happier. The van was winding down the mountain roads and the sun was starting to set. It was really a beautiful scene. It will be hard not being around mountains constantly. Their vegetated or forestry peaks have been my background for a while now.





That night was tired, but wanted to out. I chummed around with mostly the Finnish girl and the couple, but the Vancouver Island guys I met too. They had a girl traveler with them that they met along the way too. She was by herself too! This makes twice in one day I met other solo backpacking girls and it was really a great feeling. I can’t remember where this girl was from or what her name was, but she made me feel happy and proud for what I’ve been doing and have accomplished so far. We talked about organic farming and relating it to architecture and design and she followed the conversation. THAT was the best part! I talked about my ideas and plans about relating the two and she could keep up with what I was saying. In my entire trip, anyone who I ever attempted to talk to about design or architecture kinda of brushed away the conversation and steered the topic elsewhere. Then we all went to Mama Afrika’s again to dance and I got caught up with other people. I ended up going back with some people and sun was about to rise. We walked up the hill further and climbed on top of some walls and shed roofs. The sun did rise in beautiful pink and orange, but behind the mountains. It was still enjoyable until people came to yell at us to get down from the roof. We strolled back to the hostel and slept a little bit. I remember though that I never got to say goodbye or talk more with that girl, which I felt a little like a jerk about it. I wish her all the best.

It was the big Saturday before my trip and loads to get done and prep for it. Lizzie, Charlotte, Patricia and I went out to Jack’s Café for breakfast, which was a popular suggested place that had super good and healthy food. The portions were amazing too. All of a sudden my U.S.A. friend Emily from Huanchaco walks in! I found out she was in Cusco through a mutual friend and she ended up contacting me, but she came to find me to make dinner plans! AAAhhhh I was SO excited! I never got to say a proper goodbye to her because after we went to the club “Ama” she went away that weekend and I moved on to the next place. She is a really great woman and definitely someone I look up to. We confirmed for dinner and I left to try and get everything done, since I was FINALLY going on the Machu Picchu trek tomorrow! (Well actually starting at 3am). Woo hoo!

My mind was going crazy with what I had to do for the day and I think I made about 2 or 3 task lists (I love making lists). I had to book my flight from Cusco to Lima and then one from Lima to Buenos Aires. If I had 4 more days to spare, I would have taken the bus, but I was down to only days remaining. The internet wasn’t working at the hostel and kept screwing up while I was trying to pay for my flight, which clearly was frustrating because you never know if you will be charged twice or not. After rage had gotten the best of me, I stormed down the street to an internet café and got everything settled. I arranged an airport pick-up from the hostel I will be staying at I B.A. and I printed all the documents of confirmation. As I went back to my hostel, the skies were grey and it started to rain. I starred the “rain gear” on my packing check-list for the hike. I still was adamant about going to the market to get some souvenirs for my family. This was my Christmas shopping and HAD to get done. Along the way, I picked up some supplies for the hike like extra bandages and actually tenser bandages for my ankle that killed so much on the Colca Canyon trek. I really loved the Alpaca knit hats and scarves, which I got for my dad, brother-in-law, and sister. I had my eye out for a special “Inca Symbol” style of earrings for my mom, but was settled on any of the colours I had found. Back in Argentina, I was getting my brother an official futbol (soccer) jersey. While I was looking around the booths, I almost got suckered into buying another sweater for myself, but I fought hard to resist it. I left empty handed with no earrings for my mom, but I needed to rush back to the main square to meet Emily for dinner.



We met back at Jack’s café in the square. I know, I know, same place twice, be adventurous. But when there is good food, decent prices and limited time, you got to do what you got to do. We had lovely catch up chats and I fantasized about going back to Huanchaco. She just recently extended her stay and decided to remain there over Christmas. It was a bold move, but she gave it a lot of thought and it was the best for her at this time. She just finished the Machu Picchu hike and it was great to hear her motivational comments and words of wisdom. She gave me some altitude sickness pills that I know I will probably have to take at some point. I was really thankful to have the chance to see her again and have the chance for a proper farewell.

Walking back in the pouring rain, I was getting nervous about the hike. How much would it suck if it rained all 4 days? Ohman, all you can do is be prepared and think happy thoughts. …and pack lots of snacks, which I did on the way to the hostel. I got special protein bars and coca treats to help my (possible and probable) altitude sickness, along with the pills Emily gave me.
I got back, packed and attempted to fall asleep. There were annoying new people in our room and Patricia yelled at them. With little sleep, let’s see how this turns out…

Colca Canyon and a great physical challenge

“ Arequipa is the capital city of the Arequipa Region in southern Peru. With a population of 904,931 it is the second most populous city of the country. Arequipa lies in the Andes mountains, at an altitude of 2,335 meters (7,661 feet) above sea level; the former snow-capped volcano El Misti overlooks the city.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arequipa

I arrived in Arequipa on a Sunday, which meant everything was pretty much closed. I got a taxi driver, who I barely understood and he was trying to tell me that he couldn’t drop me off right at my hostel, “Los Andes,” because the streets surrounding it were closed. I put on my pack and found my hostel after I dodged a crowd of people standing in the centre square for worship. I checked in threw my stuff in storage, got a room to myself because I knew I was going to be booking the Colca Canyon trek and needed to assure some sleep. I now had to find a company, who did a 2 day trek and oh yeah, track down hiking boots to purchase, since now I have no shoes.



I whipped out of the hostel with a map and went to the first company I was recommended. It was closed… just all the restaurants I heard about too; they should open later though (hopefully). I went to another company and 2 British girls and a French girl around my age were inquiring about the same thing. They were all skinny legged with blonde long hair… and they wanted to sign up for a hike down and up the deepest canyon in the world? Interesting. Anyway, they mentioned their hostel, “Home sweet Home,” offered them a better price, if I wanted to join them. Why not right? So I went to their hostel and told the lady I was friends with them to get the group discount. I went to pay and my bill was a little ripped. The lady wouldn’t accept it! No matter what! “It wasn’t fake” I pleaded to her, but she made me track down a bank to exchange it. Oh wait, all the banks were closed on Sundays. Not knowing what to do, I went to a fancier hotel and asked them for change with my bill. The same thing happened. The lady wouldn’t accept until I begged her and explained the story. Finally, she gave in! I got the money and ran to the back hostel and got my receipt.
I was now starving at this point because apparently the chocolate bar didn’t make due. I passed a place I read about and wanted to stop at to eat. The 3 girls I briefly met earlier where there and a guy from Chicago too. I sat down with them and finally got to break the ice and know more about them before the 2 days I will spend beside them sweating. Lizzie studied Law in England and met Patricia in her (girl from France) program. The other British girl was an accountant named Charlotte. Jason from Chicago was just a traveler on another trip. They were all friendly and asked me questions, which made me feel more inclusive.

All of us set up to the markets following lunch. I was on a quest to find and buy proper hiking boots – it was a must, which meant it was going to be a fiasco. To sum up the extremely annoying story, I found boots, but they were men’s and I could only find men’s ones at a decent price. Problem though, they just didn’t fit, they were too big. So I ended up being forced into getting a pair because the market was closing. The girl said out of the blue “Oh yeah, I have some small sizes somewhere,” and I later realized she coloured in and changed the size number from an 8 to a 6. Tisk, tisk.

I caught up on emails and bought plenty of snacks to get me through this hike. I heard this was a necessity. I went back to the hostel and attempted to get some sleep. It was hard too because I was getting a little eager and anxious.

“The Colca Canyon is a canyon of the Colca River in southern Peru. It is 4,160 m. (13, 648 ft) above sea level, which is more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the United States. It is promoted as the "world's deepest canyon," although the canyon's walls are not as vertical as those of the Grand Canyon. The Colca Valley is a colorful Andean valley. The name Colca refers to small granaries of mud and stone, built into the cliffs in the valley and canyon. These repositories were used in Inca and pre-Inca times to store food, such as potatoes, quinoa, and other Andean crops. The canyon is home to the Andean Condor (Vultur gryphus), a species that has seen worldwide effort to preserve it.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colca_Canyon

It was roughly 2am and the main entranceway was packed with people, who had signed up for Colca Canyon hikes. I don’t think any of these people were going with my tour group, but we’ll see. I was one of the last to be called and I was running late. I slept in; one of those heard the alarm and in a haze turned it off. I woke up in a panic to get my day pack together in time for departure. I was super thankful for being the last person the company picked up, so it was later than expected. I got called down and went into my mini bus in pitch darkness and it was filled with people. I recognized the girls and sat in the back; there were about 8 of us. The tour guides suggested we slept on the bus while we went to our first stop to have breakfast, which was in Chivay, a town at 3, 633m (11, 919 ft) above sea level. No one got sleep due to the horrible bumpy roads, which I could tell the people on the bus were already getting a little grumpy. We had some a quinoa drink, which was very tasty and would give us protein. We had buns, cheese, and a meat. Everyone was quick to get seconds in order to stalk up on protein and calories before intense hiking for the next couple of days.

Back on the bus we drove to “Cruz del Condor,” which is a look-out location where the Peruvian national animal, the condor, were popular to fly. We were unfortunately unable to see any, since apparently the best time to go is early in the morning at day break. The 3 girls and I got a glimpse or how deep the canyon is and an idea how extreme the hike might be.







We soon arrived to our starting destination and split the mini bus into the groups with guides. I was with Lizzie, Charlotte, Patricia, Jason, this guy from Vancouver and oh wait, another familiar face, this Swedish guy, Emil, I met back in Mendoza! Like I’ve said it before, it’s crazy how people make full swings when travelling. Once we got a starter photo before we set up into the sweaty sun, we learnt some history about the land, heard out guide speak some of their native language, Quechua, and then started to make our way down the paths. I was pretty nervous, since this was the first real official hike I was doing - I think in my life! It was at higher altitude too, so the limited oxygen will be another test on my body. It was beauty at first site. The canyon walls were covered in a variety of vegetation; shrubs, plants, and cacti. You really felt small. As we were going done hill, there was a lot of dust and sometimes it was slippery. It started to hit me, my boots began to rub on my feet and I was officially breaking in my new (purchased 24hrs before) hiking boots. I wore one pair of wool socks and was told I should have worn 2, so I added a pair at a stop. It was too late and blisters were forming.





We hiked through places like Cosñirhua, Tapay and San Juan de Chuccho along the way. For a late lunch, we stopped at a cute little house. There was a delicious soup to start, and the classic meat 9this time Alpaca meat) rice and potatoes. I can never understand why the people serve both rice AND potatoes. I opted for the veggie deal, since I couldn’t bring myself to eat Alpaca, and had avocados and tomatoes instead. There was a large dog that kept running under and around our outdoor table, while a cat walked across it.








Once we set off again, my stomach was already started to turn and we had to set off again. We were going through so much water, it was unbelievable. The landscape surrounding us altered slightly to more trees and less dust on our path. Also, this time there were a bunch of straight incline hills to cross. This was extremely difficult for me. Like I was going to my pace (not THAT slow) and my ankle was hurting along with my feet from my boots, but I couldn’t help but feel behind or a nuisance all the time. I was clearly with a young, fit, more advance and faster group, but it was just extremely frustrating at some points. I would be out of breath, ready to collapse and on the verge of tears while walking to the top of a steep climb and once I joined the others, one of the other group members (not guide) would be like “okay, let’s go now!” without me even getting a break. As I am huffing and puffing, borderline having an asthma attack, I kept feeling like I was making them wait. The 2 guys were all like “let’s beat the record time today or tomorrow.” I just rolled my eyes and couldn’t help the dirt looks. I felt really out of shape and I know that I am not. Emil (the Swedish guy) was super nice and most of the time encouraged me and stayed close in distance. It was super hot and I was down poured in sweat. Our guide mentioned if people wanted the option to ride a mule to the top the next day, we could, and he looked at me. That was it. Way to centre me out. I think he was trying to be nice, but I was obviously offended and being in that current physical challenge, it was not easy to take things lightly. As we were walking, I confronted the guide about this mule business. …then I started to tear up. I said to him, “Look, I can do this and I don’t appreciate being suggested otherwise. I am no-way taking this mule up. I am breaking in new hiking boots for god’s sake! Cut me some slack!” He replied with some “Oh, well this group is fast and I just want to see you enjoy this… etc…” I was having none of it though.

I had to walk away from him because I was on the brink of sobbing and I couldn’t do that in front of him or anyone. Now, he made me second guess if I could do Machu Picchu. I thought people of ALL ages and ALL body types do it, I can surely make it. My determination fuelled my steps and then we spotted the final destination of the day; “the Oasis” or “Paradise” in Sangalle at the bottom where we were going to spend the night. It was very stunning and the water looked enticing after being constantly sweating. Once we arrived to camp, the guide announced we beat our time and were 2 hours early. SERIOUSLY. I guess I’m not too bad if I am 2 hours ahead of schedule with everyone else.









After a jump into the pool that used the natural water, we doused ourselves in bug repellent because the pests were out to get us. We bought water (that was 3 times the price), Gatorade, snacks and waited for dinner - all of us starving at this point. We had soup and spaghetti. It was very inopportune that the spaghetti was waaaay too salty and some of us couldn’t even eat it. It left your mouth watering. Everyone went to bed early, since we had another early morning ahead. I was extremely nervous because BEFORE breakfast we were going to hike at complete incline for what he said would take an approximate 3ish hours. I tried to tell myself that I could do it, just take it at my own pace. Bedtime in a hay roofed mud brick house.

We woke up, got our packs ready to go and I tried to eat enough snacks to get my through. With my Gatorade in hand, we set off up the Colca Canyon. This was by far the hardest thing to that day (I haven’t done Machu Picchu yet at this point) that I have ever attempted. I sang songs in my head to keep me distracted and entertained when sometimes I would be by myself. Sometimes I would change it up with encouraging mantra’s that I would say in my head and step to the words. A very necessary “I…Can…Do…It” was one of them. Other hikers passed up and we had to be aware of locals passing with mules or horses. One has to stand up against the mountain or the mule will knock you off while passing… for real. It was beautiful to see the sun rising and the shadows it created on the hills; however, it made me continuously sweat again. I remember mostly being at peace actually, while I was walking. Probably because I was taking it at my own pace and I could still see Lizzie and Charlotte not too too far ahead. The second half was more intense for me and no tour guide to be seen. With little breaks and persistence, I kept going and met up with another group going to the top. We had 20minutes to go and I tell you, those were super hard. Just wanting it to be over, but know it will be, but then just wanting to quit anyways, ohman. There was an early guy in his 30s encouraging me and this other woman to keep going. I could hear voices at the top and I marched up there. My group clapped and I hugged that random guy afterwards, I was SO happy and proud of myself.

Oh hold on, what time was it… Ohhh I made it in 2 and a half hours??? BEFORE the time the guide said, yeah I thought so. Baaaaammm!! I can do it and did it!!! I was so overjoyed and dug in to my snacks. After heaps of photos, we were told we still had another 20 minutes to hike to the town where our breakfast was. It was across land, which was obviously better than complete and steady incline… at high altitude.











Breakfast was scrambled eggs with toast and coca tea. We got time to chill out before the groups had to leave again, so we just stretched in the sun and people started to admit to how difficult it was. Sure they got to the top faster than me, but I wasn’t bothered… only if they boasted about it (which some of them did actually).

We drove to what I think used to be the capital of the Colca Canyon region, called Cabanaconde. The trademark photo is of this white church on the main street at which markets were aligned on the opposite side. We passed many agricultural sites. Then onto the highest point of the mountains at these volcanos.









“Volcano Chachani is the highest of the mountains in southern Peru. Its name means “skirt” in Quechua, and a female character is normally attributed to the mountain in local legends. It is 6,095 m (19,997) ft above sea level.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chachani





People had stacked wish rocks and placed them all over (If you look closely at my photo, you can see this). I did so and made a wish to remain safe and sound, along with a thank-you for the inner strength that helped my completion of the Colca Canyon hike. It was freezing and everyone ran back to the mini bus (or didn’t even get out). There was a local woman, who clearly had been waiting for tourists the entire day and had some handicrafts and souvenirs spread out. A bright multi-coloured red scarf caught my eye, so I went for it and purchased it. I was holding the group up, but I didn’t care at this point. I thanked the woman and ran back to the mini bus and it took off.

One of our last stops was at an Alpaca site. There was a field full of them! Emil got out too and took pictures with me. We got one together because I wanted to remember him and for all the unspoken motivation he gave me on our trek.





We ate an amazing dinner at the same place we ate at for breakfast in Chivay only the day before. It felt like ages ago. It was buffet style and I ate like a champ. Refills, yes please. Many different soups, salads, and meats, oh my.

Back at Arequipa, I said farewell to the group and see you later to the girls. We all were taking an overnight bus to Cusco that night and I was meeting them at our hostel. I quickly showered, re-packed my massive backpack and saw the now familiar faces of people, who did the same trek too – even that random early 30s guy. I ran into the Finnish girl and she was also going to the Loki hostel in Cusco and that I would meet here there.



Lizzie, Charlotte, Patricia and I got on our bus, took a valium and passed out. I was definitely going to be feeling paralyzed and sore in the morning. Goodnight and hello Cusco! Machu Picchu here we come!