Fearless Girls, Wise Women, and Beloved Sisters Michelle Branch, "Spirit Room" My Christmas List The old school NBA Or, anything from my wish list.

Peru Part Six: Oh No. Excerpts from Day Seven of My Travel Journal Post Date: 11/22/04 Original Journal Date: 11/04/04 11-04-Thursday, Cusco, Ollantaytambo, Aquas Calientes We are, apparently, big on the early mornings. And even though I was up until after 1am with Heike, I haul myself out of bed at 4:45am so that I can be the first one in and out of the bathroom that all three of us are sharing and then rally to get the boys out of bed so we can all be downstairs and ready to leave for the airport by 6am since we though that a 7:50am flight would be an excellent idea. And, in theory, it was an excellent idea. Remarkably, the whole thing moves smoothly and everybody, for possibly the first and only time ever, is where they're supposed to be when they're supposed to be there. It becomes obvious that something is wrong. Ho and I are up in the room doing a final check. Ho leaves to go downstairs. I go to take one more check of the room and ? suddenly ? overwhelmingly painful stomach cramp and, um, activity. Immediately, I remember how disgusting the paella I ate the night before was and start to panic. Argh. We get to the airport. The airport is a cluster. Oh, and I am enjoying the thrill of intense stomach cramping and, um, other unpleasant effects here. This does not stop me from eating a donut, which may not have been my best call. And then, our flight is delayed by an hour. So glad I got up at 4:45am. We actually all go to sleep in the airport. This is as knarly a scene as you can image as we are tired, generally not freshly showered travelers who have been up since 4:45am. Once on the plane, I experience the freakiest flying experience every. Why so freaky? Not because the flight is questionable. More because during the entire flight there are television screens that are showing a little gay acrobat movie about gay acrobats who escape from gay prison by distracting everybody with a gay acrobatic routine in the dining hall and then dancing provocatively with white, whispy curtains. Oh, and despite feeling ill, I eat the egg sandwich and fruit that they give me. Because I begin to believe that that food will help me with the altitude adjustment. I am immediately sick again when we get off the plane. I am sick on the shuttle ride to Cusco proper. I chew on disgusting cocoa leaves because I believe my sickness is altitude induced and will go away eventually if I just treat it properly. I now laugh at this. By the time we are in downtown Cusco getting everything set to head to Ollantaytambo, I am in excruciating pain. I can't wander around the square because I can barely move off the steps I'm sitting on. I move back and forth between sitting inside the South American Explorers Club office and sitting outside where the air is cooler. The move is usually dictated by the beginning of a cramp. A cramp starts and I say, "I'll feel better inside/outside.' Then I move, and I feel no better. Feeling sick, however, does not stop me from shopping. We had hired a driver to take us from Cusco to Ollantaytambo so that we could relax and enjoy the scenery of the mountain highlands. I am sure the rest of the group enjoyed this scenery very much, and Joel tells me it was stunning. I did not see the scenery because I was in the backseat of the van rolled into the fetal position and moaning every time a cramp hit. I'm also quite sure that they all enjoyed the stop at the apparently AWESOME pottery place. I did not enjoy this because I was puking out of the van door and freaking out our driver the whole time. I'm also sure they enjoyed the rest of the descent into Ollantaytambo. I didn't see it because I was on all fours on the floor of the van. Being sick. At Ollantaytambo, I feel a little bit better and able to move. I write it off to altitude and car sickness. HA HA HA HA. We stash our luggage at a hostel. What I do know for sure is that I'm WAY TOO SICK to climb of the Ollantaytambo ruins. So I wander around town. Slowly, and stopping frequently to cramp. Ollantaytambo is charming in an impoverished way. It's the quintessential Peruvian mountain-town. I wander through the residential areas. You know how, in movies, you see people who live with a cow tethered in their yards? That really happens here. There are donkeys in the street. It's the most singularly beautiful town I've ever been in. I truly believe I could give up hot showers and live there. But that may have been my fever speaking. About an hour in, I start to feel queasy to I head towards the spot where I was supposed to meet the group. Part way there, I run into Joel. Ho, Lisa and Jutta are staying up on the mountains for an extra hour, but Joel feels sick, too. So he came down. We feel awfully sick. Yet we shop. But after shopping, we really feel sick. So we go to the hostel where our luggage is stored so that we can sit somewhere. The hostel workers take on look at us and send us to some couches where we can lay down. Which we do, while moaning and groaning in pain for forty-five minutes. We were a sight. Then we head out to dinner at this freakin' amazing wood-oven pizza joint overlooking the river. I look across the table and say, "I just feel so weak from not having had food today, and losing what I did have. I'm going to try to eat. If it's altitude, eating will make me feel better." So, if you're keeping track, that's the third time today that, despite having pains in my stomach that brought me to tears, I decided to eat. I never claimed to be practical. During dinner, this adorable Peruvian child is playing Spiderman games on the floor, pretending to climb like Spiderman. This exchange happens: Lisa Isn't it nice to be somewhere where the kids can't waste away playing video games and so they have to use their imagination? Me Actually, when I was walking around today, I found a place downtown where you can get online and play multi-player games. Lisa Why do you always have to ruin my illusions? So, anyway, the eating was not such a good idea. Joel was sick. I was more sick. On the way back to the hostel to get our luggage, I was unable to walk more than ten feet without stopping and bending over in agonizing pain. When we got back to the hostel, the hostel worker asks if he should call for help for me. Joel offers to carry my luggage, which is a sad commentary since he was ragingly ill, too. I announce that I am not capable of walking the, literally, thirty yards between the hostel and the train station (because we are scheduled to take a train to Aquas Calientes that night) and that we must get little, tiny cabs to take me there. Once at the train station, we all manage to get on the train. But barely. We are accosted by locals. I break into tears from the pain at least once, and we all get separated. It's sweet. The train is a local train. The size of your seat is about as big as the smallest, most tightly spaced airline seat you can imagine (think late eighties). Lisa and Jutta are across the aisle. Ho, Joel and I are in one section together with a stranger. We cram into the seats. I notice the cramping is less when seated, but I've got a fever and, damn, am I in pain. And then we sit. First, about twenty minutes after we are supposed to leave, they announce that there is a problem with the engine. We will have to wait for a new engine car to come. An hour and a half later, one comes. But it doesn't work with our train, so we will have to wait another hour and a half until yet another new engine car comes. No, I'm not making this up. We sit, sick and tired, in the cramped train car for three hours. Eventually, Lisa gets up and goes to sleep ON TOP OF THE TRAIN CAR BAR. This allows Jutta to stretch out over two seats. Joel, Ho and I just try to find an arrangement of legs and torsos that is the least degree of cramped and uncomfortable. Ho and I manage to fall asleep. Apparently, while we are asleep, Joel throws up into a plastic bag while sitting right next to us. I'm not sure what is most disturbing about this whole thing. That Ho and I slept through Joel sitting right there next to us while puking into a plastic bag, or that Joel didn't feel compelled to get up and move when he puked into a plastic bag. Either way, I guess it doesn't matter since, if Joel hadn't told us, we'd be none the wiser to it. Classy. Finally, we start moving. At one in the morning, we arrive where we were supposed to be at 10pm. I crawl into bed, feeling like ass. Tune in tomorrow for Machu Picchu, more feeling sick and hot springs action. Feeling better? AT LEAST YOU WERE NOT KIDNAPPED AND HELD FOR RANSOM.