Oh the places you will go!

"Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself 
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the girl who'll decide where to go."

        Three years ago I made it a goal to see a wonder of the world every year.  It actually was a New Years Resolution.  It gave me a way to measure my progress and an easy way to choose the places that I would visit next.  So, of course, first up...?  The Colosseum in Rome.  This elliptical amphitheater made of stone, stands in (most) of its glory nestled in the center of a huge, bustling city....with a birth year of 80AD. Second up?  Macchu Picchu. And it was the mother of all trips in 2014.

         It started off as one of two options, Chichen Itza being the other because of proximity.  That was until he found roundtrip tickets for under $800 to Lima.  So that was that.  We were going to Peru and had 6 weeks to plan this trip.  Have you ever looked into traveling to Macchu Picchu and taking the trek?  To give you a little bit of an idea....they suggest to book SIX MONTHS out.  It was safe to say that the Classic Inca Trail was sold out.  We opted for the second most popular....Salkantay.  We had 16 days in Peru and decided to rough it for the first half and splurge for the second.  No point in staying in a resort to then go trekking for 5 days...you know what I mean?  Now the prep for trekking is an adventure all on it's own.  I had check lists on checklists: 50 liter bag, hiking boots, thermal socks...my gear went on and on.  I didn't even leave the country yet and I was a G in the hole...not including airfare and accommodations.  But boy was this going to be worth it....right?  Right.  I talked to as many people as I could regarding this trip.  People assured me that I would be able to do it....it wasn't easy, they said.  But they also didn't say it was HARD.

           Upon touch down in the capital Lima...I was welcomed into a grey city.  I must say, I was a bit underwhelmed.  None of the food wowed me, the pisco sours were a bit more sweet than sour and the culture was not as apparent in the city.  Sure, we found a good hole in the wall and an out of the ordinary, funky, hipster (not in a bad way) bar and hung out with some cool people that were also staying in the same hostel...but nothing so impressionable that I am running to head back.  After two nights, we make our way to Cusco which was much more colorful in culture, people and food.  Hot desert days and freezing cold nights.  The city is incredibly small and saturated with travel and adventure goers alike. But not in a bad way.  Cusco is the starting ground for the trek so you get a culmination of different types of people, with different backgrounds and very different lives...but there was one thing we all had in common, the open-mindedness to learn from the world.  A 4am wake up call to start the trek is rough...we climb into a van with a couple from Chicago who will also be doing the trek with us.  Then, we pick up a 21 year old guy from the Sweden who was simply wearing jeans, a sweater and a scarf.  It's snowing outside and we can't shut the car windows because it fogs up the windows.  So here I am, with 2 pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, a tank, tshirt, sweater, jacket, scarf AND a blanket wrapped around me...and Alex is chillen in a pair of jeans and loafers.  Wtf?  How cold is it in Sweden?  When we finally get to the starting point of the trek, it's beautiful.  So serene and natural.  Our mule drivers, which includes a 7 year old boy, load up our big packs and get ahead of us.  The six of us, two couples the guide and Alex, then begin an adventure on foot too late to back out on.

            The elevation affects almost me immediately.  I mean, what was I expecting?  I got altitude sickness in Denver.  I mean...DENVER.  C'mon. Shortness of breath was the first sign.  We climb, and climb, and climb...roughly about 15,000 feet above sea level.  And it gets significantly worse, significantly fast.  This was by far the hardest physical thing I have ever had to do, ever.  I couldn't breath and I felt like I had needles in my lungs.  So with every short breath I was able to take, it was paired with a pain in my lungs that caused a lightheadedness I've never known.  I was dizzy and nauseous.  Panic attacks shortly followed.  The combination was brutal.  All the while having to hike up, up and more up.  I lagged behind because I physically could not keep up.  I didn't want to keep up.  I wanted to quit.  and I cried.  Inside, at first.  Then, behind my sunglasses.  Then finally to him.  I cried because I was so frustrated with myself.  I cried because no matter how hard I wanted to do this, my body was telling me, "No, you can't".  I cried because I was not doing well....not only that but I was dead last.  It was discouraging.  I'm not saying that I am naturally good at everything that I do..but I am also NOT saying that.  And this was only the first day. Then, finally...I gave up.  I sat down crying and told him I didn't want to do it anymore.  Not only DID NOT....I COULD NOT.  I wanted a horse and I was going to wait right there until I got one.  He told me there was no horse...but he's crazy.  I read that  fuckin' contract and it said in an emergency they would provide a horse.  Well, this WAS a mother fucking emergency.  And in the middle of my ridiculousness...in that very moment and in all the moments to follow in that day, he couldn't be more loving, gentle and supportive.  With me the whole way, we took it 5 yards at a time, helped me thru my breathing when I couldn't do it myself, and with encouraging words I finally made it to camp. I could not have been more in love with him than in those moments.  I got to play the whole day back in my head and to myself.   I thought, "he would make a great coach".  Coach.  That was my first thought.  Not "father" or "life partner" but "coach".  Guess that says a lot.  Back at camp we slept between snow capped mountains on the plateau of someones land on yoga mats and in individual sleeping bags.  My day terror slowly turned into my nightmare.  I woke in the middle of the night and I could not breath.  Have you ever had that sensation before?  To open your eyes gasping for air....but no matter how hard you tried, you just could not get enough air in?  It's like being buried alive.  Or how I imagine it would feel.  He wakes and tries to talk me down from my hysteria.  I get my breathing back in order and I notice my feet were frozen solid.  I actually had to unzip my sleeping bag and hop into his.  Mind you, these were single person sleeping bags that I hardly fit in....let alone 2 people.  Then, wrap a sweater around my feet and throw my sleeping bag on top of us.  I was miserable and this was MY idea.  I paid over a thousand dollars to live like a homeless person when I could have paid half the amount to have a luxury bus with wifi take me all the way to the top.  I could not believe it.  But it's the journey.....not just the destination.  Wake up call for the consecutive days were roughly 5am.  We'd hike for about 10-12 hours a day.  We hiked in every climate and every season.  Descending a few thousand feet a day made all the difference in the world.  It was now easier for me to enjoy the nature around me and the adventure that I was on.  What an experience.  When we finally got to Macchu Picchu, it was all worth it.  Every step, every tear.  Watching the fog lift from this magical place was a dream.  I still can't believe I did it.  I fucking did it.

     The next day we fly up to Mancora, a beautiful beach town with French flair. The bed and breakfast, EcoLodge, is an oasis.  I can't believe I get to shower...in a open stone shower, at that.  I am not high maintenance by any means....but I did realize I am semi maintenance.  We have them do our laundry...not that I need any of my hiking clothes for this beautiful beach town.  Upon waking, they serve you a 3 course breakfast on the outdoor dining table next to the infinity pool.  We read our books and sip our coffee and basque in the sun.  We eat ceviche beach side everyday at Los Delfinas.  We wine at Atletier.  He surfs.  I swim.  We dive with tortoises.  And all is right in the world again.

      I never got to thank you for that day.  I was too busy hating you the other days (sorry about that).  So, thank you.  Thank you for being the coach I needed to achieve one of my 7 dreams.

So with 2 down and 5 more to go, the question is where to next?  Will I be able to stand in the ruins of Chichen Itza.  Or fall in love with the Taj Mahal.  Or walk any of the 5,500 miles of the Great Wall.  Will Christ the Redeemer welcome me with open arms? Perhaps, marvel amongst the rose stone walls of Petra.  One thing is for certain...I have exactly six months to figure it out.  And I don't plan on wasting anymore time.