This time last year we finally arrived in Cusco having travelled the long way round from Lima through Huacachina (the sanddunes), Nasca (the alien lines in rocks) and Areiquipa (the monastery town of white walls and large volcanoes).
Not sure if it was the excessive number of hours we were spending sleeping (or trying to sleep) on buses, or the high altitudes we were reaching, but by the time we reached Arequeipa I was sick. Very sick. The photos footage was less and less interesting as I spent most of my time in bed and in a coffee shop with wifi. Eventually we made it to Cusco, the old Inca town nearby Machu Picchu. It was raining when we arrived and all I wanted to do was “get up to Machu Picchu and get out of there”… but when the sun came out so did the old city. It glowed. Sitting amongst the mountains one could feel the deep magic of this historic town.
On top the sickness penetrating my head I received the wonderful pre-Christmas gift of a terrible tummy bug. Now I was completely bed ridden in The Point, a hostel known for its wild parties.
Everything happens for a reason. In my case a special encounter from the distance of my sick state on a hostel bunk,would initiate a fast-paced romantic adventure through Bolivia, down the Chilean coast and beyond…
That is why in Cusco I was “inferma en amor” – sick with love.