Peru, part 2
Even though I'd been to Machu Picchu before, this time I not only spent a whole day going through the ruins, but also other sites in the valley, as well as having the time to actually speak with locals and make fast enough friends for them to take me to places the tourists never see.
These four days were, and it is rare for me to use this word, spiritual, even magical. It was truly amazing how many tourists I came across who were tearful, some because they finally got here, but mostly because it's just so fucking beautiful.
One of the highlights--at least for this non-morning person--was getting up at five to join the workers at Machu Picchu on the trek up the mountain so I could shoot the dawn. And just for fun, I played Shannon Hurley's "Sunrise" as I shot. It really helps when an old UCLA buddy is now the regional director for archaeology and can do whatever the hell he wants despite any posted rules, and bring his friend along.
And the lowlight happened a few minutes later. I was climbing up this structure to get a photo, leaving my backpack at the bottom, not worried that someone was going to steal it. But apparently it blended in too well with the grass or the stone, because the gardener came by with his hose and sprayed everything, and I do mean everything. The only things that escaped the water was the camera gear I had around my neck. The rest of the camera gear, as well as every piece of paper and film, were completely soaked.
Turns out I inadvertently got one of the local guides in trouble. When I sign up for one of these trips, I'm given a list of things they want me to shoot. Usually it's a short list, and I can improvise and add to it, as long as I get a usable shot of what they want. So it turns out one of the sites they wanted me to shoot is no longer open to the public, only their local guide "neglected" to tell them this; afraid of getting paid less, I guess. But if he was dumb enough to think no one would notice once they arrived, well, who am I to deprive him of reaping from his stupidity . . .
According to my handy dandy pedometer, the best gift evah--although you have to consider I usually gets clothes as gifts, but still--I walked over 100 miles on this trip. No Fffffin' way! When my feet and shins heard this news, they decided they should feel sore, even if they didn't before. (did that rhyme?)
