In Lima, near the end of our odyssey, I’m relaxing with an alpaca throw in the window of our room on the 16th floor, watching the city wake up. Workers are already cleaning a rooftop pool on the hotel across the street. We’re in Miraflores, and this is probably the nicest hotel we’ve ever stayed in. Comfort technology abounds. Our room card not only is required in the elevator for security, it’s required to turn on the lights in the room. Thoughtful convenience is everywhere, a motion sensor adds subtle light to the bathroom in the middle of the night and the perfect temperature is just a button press away. The Casa Andina Premium is just that, a beautiful hotel and a tambo, a place to rest in the Quechua language.
Literally 24 hours ago, we’re waking to the light tap on our door by Mama Paula(?)( I still can’t catch the names properly) for breakfast. Her 80-yr-old mother is already up, sitting in the floor of the kitchen peeling potatoes. On Amantani Island, in Lake Titicaca, solar power was introduced only 2 years ago. The light switch to the bare ceiling light is part of the power outlet, down low and on the opposite side of our room from the door (and the bed). We slept quite well under the massively heavy woolen blankets and hard bed, especially after the dance party at the community center. During the night, in order to reach the baño, I step outside to walk the balcony and navigate the steep steps down to the small courtyard. Looking up, I see the Milky Way like few people do, milk spilled across the sky, a flashlight is not necessary.
Things didn’t go as planned. I had intended on a short play by play for this adventure. A way to share this journey in real time and then backfill later with the experiences, hardships, travel logistics and funny stories.
But then Ruben, our first guide, walked into our life on Day 2. What started out as Odyssey definition 1, quickly became definition 2, and things (hopefully) will never be the same.
So for now, I’m going to post a handful of pictures (okay, a big handful) with captions, and when we finally land in our tiny home back in Tennessee, maybe the hundreds of experiences and millions of threads rolling around in my overloaded mind will begin to spill out. Stay tuned and wish me luck…
Alfredo the chef, two porters whose namesI need to get, and the horse master.
