Hmmmmmm, home, home, home. This sad realization hits me harder everyday. What an adventure I just had. Nothing in the world has ever felt so good and so right. Seeing the beauty of other cultures. Discovering a new landscape and environment every time I get on and off of a bus, plane, train, boat, taxi, collectivo, horse, paraglider, zipline, bicycle, dunebuggy, or motorcycle. Plotting the most amazing things possible to do, and doing them. Meeting others along the way experiencing the same excitement. The high of world exploration running through your veins.
I miss the drastically changing Peruvian landscape. Where it all began. Lima was the hub. A city. Busy and a directional turn around of sorts.
Paracas. The first drastic landscape change. The clay colours and deserted openess. The vast rolling plains that became Paracas National Park. Massive cliffs and sky scraper high ledges over the ocean.
The protruding rock formations jutting from the water in Ballestas Islands littered with barking sea lions ripping apart pelicans for lunch.
The endless mountain sized sand dunes of Huacachina. Which loomed so high above the Oasis. Having a knights cap beneath the endless stars in the desert while curled up in the fluffy playground that is the " sand land ".
Then onto Nazca where the finely grated sand dunes turn into mineral mountains of many colours and ranges. And the desert heat beats down with fury. A place where you know there is more here than meets the eye. A special ancient energy guides this place.
A 10 hour bus transports you from Nazca to Arequipa. Where the altitude really begins to hit for the first time. Even all the while slowly climbing above sea level from Lima. A drive that is completely shocking. The beauty and vastness of the size of the cliffs and unique drops while hugging the South Peruvian Pacific coast. Like another planet! sprawling in front of you for an infinite amount of miles of sheer viewing pleasure. Sunsets that capture the widest of eyes till it is absolutely pitch black.
Arequipa is marked by Misti. The majestic volcano marking the area. El Paca were running free on the mountainsides on the way to Chivay and the Colca canyon. Where the rare Andean Condor flies high above the impressive canyon. The ancient spectrums of Incan terraces and open views are something one can only dream of.
The next bus to Puno seems like it isn't possible to be shocked anymore. But then you see the oddly coloured lakes, ponds, and mountain fields. When you finally enter Puno, and see the brilliant royal blue colour of Lake Titicaca. Bursting with deep blue beauty beneath an impoverished town built into the mountain where a large cross comforts the locals from above. Not to mention the island community made strictly of reeds.
From there, onward to the Sacred Valley of the Incans. Accessible through Cusco, it is like the cherry on the Peruvian cake. The bulbous mountains jutting sporadically out of one another. Getting greener and closer as you approach Ollantaytambo, the last beautiful, must see, hamlet before Aguas Calienté. The base mountain village of Macchu Picchu. The Peruvian gem that Guided me on this journey. Guided us all. Gargantuan drops and peaks and views which plunge off of death defying cliffs and terraces in the sky. Where El Paca act as lawn mowers for the grassy terrace kingdom that once thrived and is now shrouded in mystery.
The wonderful opportunity of experiencing earth's inner worlds , within their inner worlds, is priceless.
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