From Peru, July 24, 2002
(The post below is from a group email I sent to my friends and family while traveling years ago. I include it in this blog as an archive to my travels. It remains in the the raw state that I originally sent it, foolishness of younger years intact, typos and sics untouched.)
Hello all! its been a while i know, i`ve been settling into my new temporary life here in cusco, peru. working as for a river rafting company. the apurimac river. beautiful and technical it is nestled in a deep canyon outside of cusco. i am a trainee to be a river rafting guide. i`m doing it for the life more than anything. for me it is the perfect combination of work, fun, adrenaline and tranquility. i get up early in the morning, jump in the back of a truck and try to sleep for the five hour twisting turning ride to the river. i set up the gear with the other guides and wait for the passengers. we cruise down the river for four days at a time through amazing rapids and a gorgeuous canyon. i assist in setting up camp and the cooking. i ride along in the cargo raft or in an inflatable kayak. i am responible for the photography and videography of the group. there is nothing like sleeping on the beach under the stars listening to the water flow by.
after four days we return and party until the wee hours of the morning. recover a day, some laundry and out again. i`ve been abandoned by all my travelling friends and now find myself immersed in spanish culture. my friends, guides and other aquaintances, compliment me on my spanish. i don`t agree. it`s quite crude and i rarely use a tense other than the present. perhaps they are confusing it with my body language which i use whenever i need to get my point across.
so that is my life, but not my most recent adventures. i just returned last night from the inca trail. or incalandia as i like to call it. to those who are unfamiliar, the inca trail is a pilgrimage route through the region of cusco past several significant ruins to the famous and formerly sacred city of machu picchu. it is a four day trek covering 42 kilometers of strenuous terrain.
and lots of gringos and restrictions (thus the amusement park name i`ve given it... Inkalandia) i would never do a trek back home with this many paople on it. in fact the only thing i appreciated about all the people on the trail was passing them.
it was my first trekking experience using porters. i was rather stubborn. i insisted on using my own tent, carrying and setting it up myself. it just doesn`t seem right otherwise. i also brought extra food, i didn`t have faith in what they might bring and prepare (although it was alright). in the end i ended up having a pack as heavy as the porters. i think it was a matter of pride for me. i still am disgusted by the people i saw carrying nothing more than a light daypack and having hot tea delivered to their tents in the morning.
somewhere along the line i was joking with the porter. we agreed to change roles on the second half of the third day. i would take his potato sack of food and other camp essentials and run ahead of everyone else to the camp while he strolled behind with my backpack and ate candies, sipped water and chatted with my friends. so i stormed ahead. damn was i good. i was passing other dumbfounded porters left and right. i got to a campsite after about 20 minutes when it takes the gringoes normally one and a half to two hours. i joked and talked to some porters from another group. they didn`t know about my campsite but say there was another one further down the trail. okay, so i set off again. going like crazy, but now the terrain had changed. i descended hundreds and hundreds of ancient incan stairs (which means they were stone, large and very inconsistent). after almost an hour of (practically) running downhill descending more than 600 meters from the previous campsite the porter i traded places with caught up with me. the problem was no one told me when to stop. i almost died (sorry mom), i nearly cried... if only i had the energy to do either. we were in fact camp at the campsite now a distant peak 600 meters in altitude above my head. so i crawled back. if only i could describe how evil these stairs were. on top of that i had to explain to each and every tourist and porter why i was going the wrong way.
finally, two plus hours later i rearrived to camp. everyone seemed to think it was funny. my legs didn`t.
we passed out that night around 8pm. woke at 2am and starting hiking again at 3am. to see the sunrise over machu picchu. i`m still not sure it was worth it. or that i appreciated the famous ruins as much as i did a hot shower and warm bed when i returned that night.
tomorrow i go rafting again. this is my life...
love to all....
j
