Then the hike. Even now I am not sure what I was thinking. Looking back now I put my miscalculation down to one of three things. Maybe it was just the jetlag. I (zombie boy) am writing this 9 days after landing in Arequipa, Peru and I am still having troubles sleeping at the right time. Last night 3 o'clock in the morning seemed a completely sensible time for my body to say hey buddy it is time to get up. But still, I just can't get my head around that jetlag would cause such a stupid mistake. This leads me to my second possible explanation, stupidity. Now we may be getting closer to the truth. I would like to think that if I was a chick in a nest it would be a good chance that I would not be the one that fell, but sometimes, the things that I do, makes me wonder. Going on a 3 day hike that descends around 1200m on the first day with around a 8km walk and carrying a 20kg backpack was not the smartest idea. Especially considering the second day was another 8km walk that included a 300m vertical climb, and the third (wait for it) added the finishing touch of a 1100m vertical climb over 6km. I knew the silly backpack was heavy, just lifting it on my shoulders took a bit of effort. But my thought process went along the lines of "with 6kg of water in here once I start drinking it will get lighter and lighter and I am fit and strong enough to be able to handle it". My guide definitely didn't think so. She gave me ample opportunities and hints that maybe I should consider leaving some things on top before we departed. Nah, I thought, I'll be ok, remember "'I am fit and strong enough to be able to handle it". So, this was the third possible reason. I am superman.....well at least that is what my brain thought. Anyway, I struggled going down!! My body ached in unison with my shoulders and legs. The river below in the canyon sometimes seemed closer but always seemed elusively far. I guess the best way to put it was it was character building. Yes I made it to the first town where we were to sleep. Yes I did sleep all afternoon while the others went on a walking tour. Yes I did get up the next day and plodded along (after drinking shitloads of water the day before to lighten the load). Lighter backpack didn't quite equate to "'a new day, a new beginning". Still tough (especially the 40 minute climb) but with a change of backpack positioning (hips rather than shoulders) I think I did really well. In fact I got to the new place feeling rather good. The 3rd day was a 4am start straight up the canyon from 2200m to 3300m. Decisions had to be made and the decision I made was that I am very happy that god decided to put mules on this earth. Mules love backpacks and I love mules. So the journey up was a breeze compared to the first day. It was quite fun overtaking people for the first time in the trip (there were quite a number of groups, ours numbered about 8) and I arrived at the top in a very respectable 2 hours and 15 minutes. Later after a very enjoyable breakfast of scrambled eggs on bread the lingering remembrance of aches and pains were finally put to sleep with an hour relaxing in thermal hot baths. Whaor, that was good. Cusco next (really already here) with a revisit to Machu Pichu (last visit 2002).
