uno, dos, cusco

The days to follow were more productive.
Slow walks through convents, museums, and tiny wandering, uphill streets.
Forays into Peruvian cuisine, new friends, a minimal hike to prove we could breathe. Views like paintings over Little Cusco, nestled in the valley.
Puffed quinoa, stuffed peppers. Llamas, blue shutters, cobble stones, taxi cabs.
Cusco was starting to have its way with me but time was passing quickly. As excited as I was to return to nature and embark on this adventure, I couldn't help but often feel like I wanted to stall.
This hike, those stairs, altitude higher still; all these things inevitable and already feeling predestined.
Nervous excitement. Anxious anticipation. Exhausted but finding it difficult to sleep.

primera noche

In the haze of high altitude, my initial hours would pass largely unaccounted for.
Sitting on the Plaza in the company of pigeons and old men.
My humble Spanish coming easier in this groggiest of states.
The shortest of naps, the most minimal of snacks.
Drinks at a gringo bar with two new friends.
Learning my way home and the names of my hotel staff.

The deepest sleep I have ever known.

going up

And just as suddenly I was transported to another world.

Appearing out of nowhere within the sea of the Andes, we'd land in the tiny Cusco airport, 3399m above sea level, without incident. I'd meet another traveling acquaintance on the way from Lima, plans would made for later on drinks. A prearranged driver would take me a chatty 25 minutes to the center of town.

Soon I'd become acquainted with Cusco, its many churches, complicated history, and lore. Poor but beautiful, full of cobbled charm and indigenousness. Textiles, tourists, some of the best food I've ever eaten.

But at this point I was terrified.

So many google searches gone awry: terms like altitude sickness, soroche, lungs filling with fluid, aneurysms, nausea, migraine, fatigue....

I'd psychologically braced myself for the worst.

I would eventually compare the reality of what I felt to having had one too many midday beers when you're not yet hungry for dinner. Add to that extreme exhaustion and breathlessness and I was feeling... weird.

Coca tea was served for free, in abundance, believed to ease the symptoms. In spite of my needing, as minimum, fourteen hours of sleep that day, I'd say it worked.

Countdown: three days to catch my breath.