Follow the Journey

But first, we had to attend to our patient, Diegito, a sick young pup. Left pale and skeletal in the airport, the Diego missed his flight with the rest of the group on their departure to the Estatos. It was not a pretty sight, the tears that put Niagra Falls to shame, left us wandering the streets of Cusco like blinded dogs, lost and broken. However after a cookie, we broke out the beers!! Just kidding, but seriously, it was forced down our throats by Amanda. Bitter sweet freedom. Our party continued alongside Diegito´s hospital bed. He had amoebas, and we cheersed to that! Alas, that night was time to say goodbye forrealsies, as we hugged his lifeless corpse one last time. For now. (He´s good btw, no worries).

And with another day free in Cusco, we had to pamper ourselves, just a bit. Full body massage. Nuff said. Complete with oil and naked bodies, kindof. Jordi and Jandro, a room to themselves. Sweet Jesus Levy. Still somehow Jordi managed to injure himself during the massage, he doesn´t want to talk about it. Damn knee. And as Amandita, the wonderful, darling person that we love, promised, we went out for a fine supper at the dopest, sickest, most adorable, cuddly restaurant we had ever seen. Hannah would have loved it. Seriously, there were fairytails on our menu and stuffed animals as our seat companions. Our only complaint was that the chefs cut too many onions, as we were not expecting such a sneak attack, sitting amoungst the rafters in a stuffy room. And so our third bought of tears ensued. At least we could pretend we were crying for the group, right? We miss you guys. We´re more group sick than home sick right now. CARPE CARPE Ca r p…..

BOLIVIA!!!! A goodbye to Amanda and a hello to a 14 hour bus ride straight through the night. Alejandro was cold. The bus provided blankets to everyone except him. They were necessary for survival. It was only a bit colder than when Eli almost froze to death in the waterfall in Bosque Nublados.. And then, the crossing……. There are legends of travellers not making… THE CROSSING, never to be seen or heard from again. We went in with our swords drawn and our stomachs in or throats, the real AMERICAN way for, THE CROSSING. There was a bridge and there was a man with ginourmous earlobes beckoning us into a dark room, we feared the worst. But $135 later, a few smiles, and a few laughs we prevailed, as it really wasnt bad at all. Like at all. A two year old could have done it…. For us, it was back on the bus with our visas secured (just stupid stickers), making the home stretch to LA PAZ.