(Above): the ever stunning, mysterious, and dare I say: awe-inspiring Machu Picchu.
Travel lights me on fire.
I’ve been in Peru for almost six months. I’ve had food poisoning five times. I’ve dismissed 10 pounds from an already light frame. I estimate I’ve lost about 15 to 20 percent muscle mass. The altitude here affects people oddly. And it effects everyone differently.
But I wouldn’t trade it.
Every day is a miracle. An adventure. An unknown quantity of possibly life-changing proportions. Around every corner lies the unfamiliar. The synapses in your brain fire differently. You are alert, wary. Unconsciously, you look for suspicious activity. An eight hour bus ride to one of the most pristine jungles in the world will drop your jaw like a wide-eyed child as you teeter on steep cliff edges at white knuckle speeds.
I’m not half-alive while eating $200 dollar oyster dinners in Los Angeles only to be mistreated by the waiter because he was in a Hyundai commercial last week.
I’m in it all the way.