"Live what you believe" was the conclusion of a conversation with Kristel.
Now, what do you believe in?
'Live what you believe'
I like to think we are flying free as birds
Say what you think, but mean those words
Throw yourself willingly in the wings of life
Wash away the sorrows, cut them out with a knife
Bring in joy; laughter is the best remedy
Listen to music, make life into a melody
Argue about what you believe in, but don't make it a fight
Acceptance is the rule, destroy obstacles from sight
Acknowledge who you are and learn to love and understand
Don't leave your butt out in the air, your head deep in the sand
There is nothing to fear for when life hands you choices
Let go of hang-ups and let it be heard; those voices.
You only get one chance to live this life to the full
Make it fun and naughty; there are exceptions to the rule
So go out there and run around like a fool
Who is there to judge you? You are happily playing cool!
Well, that popped out as a surprise!
Now... Let's get back to Peru because what happened to me during our visit to Machu Picchu was an extraordinary experience, and I would love to share it with you.
On the morning of Monday, 18 February, Hala and I were picked up at 8:30civilisedrivate taxi for a two-hour drive to the train station at Ollantaytambo. The scenery was pure green mountains cultivated along valleys of fruit and vegetation, a large river running through almost continuously, and a sky as blue as can be with bright patches of clouds hovering above us. I could barely keep my jaw up, passing sites that even a postcard could not quite capture, and at one stage, we were up 3,800 metres above sea level.
Urubamba is the name of the river running along the Amazon, and it is a town we traversed to get to Ollantaytambo, where the Inca Trail train waited to carry us to Aguas Calientes. There were two train wagons with comfy beige leather seats, and as Hala and I settled into them, a very sociable young man who had been chatting to absolutely everyone on board on the way to his seat opposite us, stood next to us, checked his ticket saying:
'Live what you believe'
I like to think we are flying free as birds
Say what you think, but mean those words
Throw yourself willingly in the wings of life
Wash away the sorrows, cut them out with a knife
Bring in joy; laughter is the best remedy
Listen to music, make life into a melody
Argue about what you believe in, but don't make it a fight
Acceptance is the rule, destroy obstacles from sight
Acknowledge who you are and learn to love and understand
Don't leave your butt out in the air, your head deep in the sand
There is nothing to fear for when life hands you choices
Let go of hang-ups and let it be heard; those voices.
You only get one chance to live this life to the full
Make it fun and naughty; there are exceptions to the rule
So go out there and run around like a fool
Who is there to judge you? You are happily playing cool!
Well, that popped out as a surprise!
Now... Let's get back to Peru because what happened to me during our visit to Machu Picchu was an extraordinary experience, and I would love to share it with you.
On the morning of Monday, 18 February, Hala and I were picked up at 8:30civilisedrivate taxi for a two-hour drive to the train station at Ollantaytambo. The scenery was pure green mountains cultivated along valleys of fruit and vegetation, a large river running through almost continuously, and a sky as blue as can be with bright patches of clouds hovering above us. I could barely keep my jaw up, passing sites that even a postcard could not quite capture, and at one stage, we were up 3,800 metres above sea level.
Urubamba is the name of the river running along the Amazon, and it is a town we traversed to get to Ollantaytambo, where the Inca Trail train waited to carry us to Aguas Calientes. There were two train wagons with comfy beige leather seats, and as Hala and I settled into them, a very sociable young man who had been chatting to absolutely everyone on board on the way to his seat opposite us, stood next to us, checked his ticket saying:
"I went through the train looking for my seat, and we'll travel together. I'm Roqué."
As soon as he sat opposite, facing me at the window seat, introductions began, and our outbreaks of laughter seemed to amuse the whole carriage. And finally, sitting opposite Hala was a middle-aged (such a nonsense word, middle age!) gentleman, Neil, wearing a leather cowboy hat in safari attire, who happened to be a tour leader, not unlike a Korean John Wayne. The Brazilian Roqué was full of life and so much fun that we barely felt the two-hour journey pass. At one stage, Neil, after settling his people into their seats, fell asleep, and Roqué began making faces and gestures of a drunken man, then a scary animal next to the passed-out tour guide. Not sure what encouraged him as Roqué decided to sing for us aloud, then continued to inform us:
"This is by Johnny Cash! You know Johnny Cash?"
At this stage, before we replied, Neil awoke and, in his particular Korean accent, commented:
"No. Not Johnny Cash. Tom Jones, who sang that."
Roqué looked confused and asked: "Who's Tom Jones?"
Ignoring my response when I pointed out: "He's too young to know Tom Jones!"
Neil burst into an opera and sang another Tom Jones number even louder. By then, Hala and I were holding onto our cheeks, already aching with the pain of laughter.
Oh no... We had arrived in Aguas Calientes!
Hala turned to me and said: "Sis, we truly find them! The characters."
I replied: "Think it's more like they find us!"
Roqué made a last remark, looking towards Hala: "Think Haldita missed a shot of two birds!"
He was right; I did not stop taking photos throughout the journey.
 | ||
| The scenery on the Inka Rail train |
The entrance from the station into Aguas Calientes was through a covered market, and our hostel (still can't believe sis convinced me to stay in a hostel!), which was more like a house with rooms being let, was right next to the warm spring waters. So, it was only natural to drop our bags, walk the only pedestrianised path of the main square and come back up to visit the pools under a cloudy and rainy sky. After an early night's sleep (myself covered from head to toe in a hooded tracksuit, twisting and turning all night), we were up at 6:00am to get ready for our visit to the land where Incas had trodden the ground and whose spirit soared high above the ruins. The people I talked to, including my Boy, who had previously visited this magical mountain, had mixed feelings.
"I thought Machu Picchu was over-rated. Mum, the experience is different for each person."
As my Boy rightly pointed out, each experience differs for the individual, and learning is part of our growth.
The bus to the ruins left every 10 minutes, so at 7:00am sharp, Hala and I settled into the back seats by the window while two young men sat at the other end. Again, another tour guide sat in the middle, a quiet lady this time. After a short introduction, the jolly boys had already begun conversing with us, and Ignacio, who was sitting closest, asked for a coin, which I handed him a 2 soles piece for him to play the magician. The change disappeared in his hands and re-surfaced in the palm of his left hand. I turned to him, somewhat disappointed, and said:
"This is not fun! Now, if you make those two soles disappear and reappear into two million soles, you'll have all my attention!"
I said all that in my broken Spanish, but their laughter reassured me—they got the joke!
Another fun half hour passed with an invitation to Chile by our new friends. Once we arrived 2,400 metres above sea level at Machu Picchu, our guide awaited to escort us for the two-hour tour.
Hiram Bingham, the man who first discovered the ruins, got here in 1911 by chance while searching for gold and silver; instead, coming across the kingdom of Incas, buried under a forest. The site, built in the shape of a condor, has only been open to the public since 1948, where 7/800 people, mostly noblemen, were estimated to have once lived. The mountains here were chosen for their astronomical points, the water springs they carried, and for being closer to God; they were separated into two sectors of agriculture on one side and urban on the other.
I was mesmerised by Machu Pimesmerised not only by what I saw but by the energy surrounding me, almost oblivious to the tourists around me. This was the low season as the Inca Trail, which can be crossed in an estimated four days, is shut during February and, hence, less human traffic. At every angle and height, the place looked different, and the two informative hours ran along fast enough for the end of the tour when Hala decided to head back, and I chose to spend some time on my own in these magical mountains. I asked our guide to show me a quiet spot down some steps and took his advice in settling myself down on a step, facing the tall, lush mountains ahead, where no one could see me and yet from behind a large stone, I could check the guard's moves on the far side. Oops! Out popped half of an already smoked spliff from my bag, and a few puffs were enough to help me grasp the amplitude of the greenness that surrounded me.
After a few moments of silence, I closed my eyes and connected with the spirit of the Incas. In prayer, I asked for ...
'To the great vibe of the Incas, may I humbly ask for your love and wisdom to help me and my loved ones take paths that enrich our lives in an enlightening way and in peace. Oh! And please always let me see the humour in every situation when it arises.'
I then signed my name in the sky above and left in tears of love.
Since Hala told me later that day smoking was banned in Machu Picchu, I was certainly glad not to have been caught and kicked out!
Before leaving, we stamped our passports with a Machu Picchu sign upside down and took the bus back to Aguas Calientes for a 'one bag' shopping trip at the trendy El Mapi boutique hotel and a light lunch before returning to the spring waters. We wore our bikinis, covered with alpaca jumpers and a raincoat and headed to the Aguas again for the last dip in the pool, which, at 1:00pm, was quite empty. As we stood neck-deep in the murky water, the pebbles beneath our feet and the heated water embracing our bodies, the massive mountain ahead 'held' my gaze. We craned our necks as far back as they would go to appreciate the full glory of what we saw, covered by forests of greens and one particular peak which happened to be standing firm directly in front of me. As if that was not enough to blow one's mind, the white clouds parted, and the sun shone strongly on my naked face. I shut my eyes automatically and let myself go, leaning against the blue wall of the pool while my arms bent from the elbows and arose close to the water's surface with the two meditation fingers touching. The spirit of the Incas was flying above like angels as I felt at one with nature. The temperature of my whole body, my face in the sun, and my body in the warm water felt like one.
As my Boy rightly pointed out, each experience differs for the individual, and learning is part of our growth.
The bus to the ruins left every 10 minutes, so at 7:00am sharp, Hala and I settled into the back seats by the window while two young men sat at the other end. Again, another tour guide sat in the middle, a quiet lady this time. After a short introduction, the jolly boys had already begun conversing with us, and Ignacio, who was sitting closest, asked for a coin, which I handed him a 2 soles piece for him to play the magician. The change disappeared in his hands and re-surfaced in the palm of his left hand. I turned to him, somewhat disappointed, and said:
"This is not fun! Now, if you make those two soles disappear and reappear into two million soles, you'll have all my attention!"
I said all that in my broken Spanish, but their laughter reassured me—they got the joke!
Another fun half hour passed with an invitation to Chile by our new friends. Once we arrived 2,400 metres above sea level at Machu Picchu, our guide awaited to escort us for the two-hour tour.
Hiram Bingham, the man who first discovered the ruins, got here in 1911 by chance while searching for gold and silver; instead, coming across the kingdom of Incas, buried under a forest. The site, built in the shape of a condor, has only been open to the public since 1948, where 7/800 people, mostly noblemen, were estimated to have once lived. The mountains here were chosen for their astronomical points, the water springs they carried, and for being closer to God; they were separated into two sectors of agriculture on one side and urban on the other.
I was mesmerised by Machu Pimesmerised not only by what I saw but by the energy surrounding me, almost oblivious to the tourists around me. This was the low season as the Inca Trail, which can be crossed in an estimated four days, is shut during February and, hence, less human traffic. At every angle and height, the place looked different, and the two informative hours ran along fast enough for the end of the tour when Hala decided to head back, and I chose to spend some time on my own in these magical mountains. I asked our guide to show me a quiet spot down some steps and took his advice in settling myself down on a step, facing the tall, lush mountains ahead, where no one could see me and yet from behind a large stone, I could check the guard's moves on the far side. Oops! Out popped half of an already smoked spliff from my bag, and a few puffs were enough to help me grasp the amplitude of the greenness that surrounded me.
After a few moments of silence, I closed my eyes and connected with the spirit of the Incas. In prayer, I asked for ...
'To the great vibe of the Incas, may I humbly ask for your love and wisdom to help me and my loved ones take paths that enrich our lives in an enlightening way and in peace. Oh! And please always let me see the humour in every situation when it arises.'
I then signed my name in the sky above and left in tears of love.
Since Hala told me later that day smoking was banned in Machu Picchu, I was certainly glad not to have been caught and kicked out!
Before leaving, we stamped our passports with a Machu Picchu sign upside down and took the bus back to Aguas Calientes for a 'one bag' shopping trip at the trendy El Mapi boutique hotel and a light lunch before returning to the spring waters. We wore our bikinis, covered with alpaca jumpers and a raincoat and headed to the Aguas again for the last dip in the pool, which, at 1:00pm, was quite empty. As we stood neck-deep in the murky water, the pebbles beneath our feet and the heated water embracing our bodies, the massive mountain ahead 'held' my gaze. We craned our necks as far back as they would go to appreciate the full glory of what we saw, covered by forests of greens and one particular peak which happened to be standing firm directly in front of me. As if that was not enough to blow one's mind, the white clouds parted, and the sun shone strongly on my naked face. I shut my eyes automatically and let myself go, leaning against the blue wall of the pool while my arms bent from the elbows and arose close to the water's surface with the two meditation fingers touching. The spirit of the Incas was flying above like angels as I felt at one with nature. The temperature of my whole body, my face in the sun, and my body in the warm water felt like one.
In the wholesome feeling of Oneness with all around, through the Incas came the spirit of my father, followed by my grandparents, uncles and friends who had left the earth along our journey. I was in heaven on earth; the tears escaped through the corner of my eyes onto those sun-kissed cheeks, and God only knows how fulfilled I felt. They brought with them so much love and support. Suddenly, like a ball of fire, every fear in my body moved around from my feet up to the rest of my body to my head and the ball of fear got thrown out of my being.
I knew then something had shifted in me, and I cried to my heart's content, followed by laughter. I felt a sensation of ecstasy flowing through me. The spirit of the Incas touched me in every magical way possible.
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| The Hot water springs |
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| The road to the Aguas Calientes |
I then tearfully hugged my sister and assured her everything would be alright. As we looked up, standing in the spring water, our attention got diverted to a red and orange butterfly hovering above us. I smiled in a child-like manner as Hala pointed at my head, saying in disbelief:
"Sis, the butterfly is sitting on your head!"
"Sis, the butterfly is sitting on your head!"
Magic is everywhere. Awareness is key.
The last chapter on Peru will be next week during our visit to Puno, Lake Titicaca.
The last chapter on Peru will be next week during our visit to Puno, Lake Titicaca.
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