Pig Pile
Tomorrow I grab an early morning flight back to Lima in route to Buenos Aires Argentina, which I fully intend to invade with full force. Once there I will set aside ample time to reintroduce oxygen to my brain, catch up on all the meat that has been decidedly absent thus far, and hopefully kill of my inbox of thick procrastination.
Swallow and Hold On
"I fall on my knees, trying to find a solution, a truth, a motive. To think that I was born to love, that I wasn't born to sit permanently in front of a desk asking myself whether man is good.... To make a sterile sacrifice that does nothing to raise up a new life: that is anguish."
No. It's not about having kids or planting a green garden full or organic produce, though both worthy endeavors in their own right. In the end, maybe sitting behind a desk somewhere isn't so bad, so long as the sacrifice isn't sterile. It's something I've had an incredibly difficult time with in my life. Although enjoyable for intermittent lengths of time, I have yet to find the right desk.
Stone Free
To travellers and tourists alike, a journey to Machu Picchu is exactly that. A journey. To lose site of it in favor of the destination seems like an incredibly short-sighted misstep. To sum up Machu Picchu as simply another Eiffel Tower or Angkor Wat of the world, another checklist of must-sees in the travellers intrepid diary, seems equally misguided.
For me the journey began years ago as a kid. After reading about the ancient Inca civilization and their city in the clouds somehow lost to time and then rediscovered in more modern times, I was hooked. After all, it is the place of imagination.
The Spanish never found the place and still to this day Machu Picchu and it's place in history is still shrouded in mystery. No one knows what happened to the Inca's that once called it home. And they scarcely know how such a thing was even built. Was it alien technology? Was it ancient genius? Your guess is as good as mine.
In the end however, where does one even begin to sum up the magnitude of a place like this? The intricate stone work, the sheer magnitude and size, the altitude and beautiful ruggedness of a place seemingly so impractical to allow such a thing to ever be constructed. I simply don't know.
One will brave humidity, altitude, an onslaught of vendors, train or trail, and the ever present mass of tourists and travellers alike to get here. In the end the journey, not the destination, make the juice worth the squeeze.
See No Evil
It's clear to me that a simpler life may offer certain advantages over a life of seemingly endless wandering. I don't believe that I was ever destined for such a thing, but every now and then I sit back and imagine that the alternative to this just might be ok.
Why Travel
We're pulling this one straight out of the inbox.
"Drew, why do you travel?"
I guess I travel for a lot of reasons. I have a horribly bad time coping with routine, it's as if it stifles the richness of life.
I love to walk. And I mean really really walk.
I love new things. That newness of the road, the wonderful feeling that the world is at my door step and at any moment you can go chase another brilliant idea down a rabbit hole as far as you wish.
I love to grow. To be proven false and incorrect, and that no drew, the world is not always as it seems. To be humbled is not such a bad thing.
I love different cultures. From food to drink, to ideals, art, style, to you name it. Somethings overlap with our own, but there is always something new to be seized upon and admired.
I love the self reliance that the road demands, or gradually bestows on one willing or unwillingly. To know that you can go anywhere and do anything, and I mean to truly know this deep inside - it's a wonderfully liberating feeling.
I love changing things up, squeegeeing the third eye if you will. Changing course and direction in life to get away from everything known for a diet rich in the unknown. It broadens the palate.
I love that there is a community of people just like me from all over the world, every corner in fact, that have declared society's definition of success unfit, and set off on their own natural course.
I love my alone time. To day dream, write, think, walk, draw, self-reflect, take photos, or read. Alone but rarely lonely.
And truly, at the end of the day I love people. Yeah, I know. You're shaking your head, you think I'm getting soft in my old age. A few years and few countries under my belt and I'm ready to rub elbows with the agrarian hippie commune. No, not quite. But if I've learned anything it's that place is merely the stage, the vehicle, from which the true reason I travel springs. The people. Locals and fellow travelers alike from every far reaching neighborhood this world has to offer have taught me more about myself than I would have ever thought possible. That's why I travel
The Croutons
There was a time when I would have sat down and said something constructive. Something planned on a napkin or scrap of paper. It would have been polished, as best it could, manufactured and precisely written. And ultimately the chances are very good that it would have gone on and on about some revelatory invention that the road offered me, those hard lessons of life and truth and of love. But things are different now.
I don't care any more for that. I can't put in writing the sweat on a wine bottle. There is no way to convey the true kindness of strangers. Any attempt to describe the poverty, the smiles on the worn faces of the locals or a simple kiss on the neck of your loved one instantly marginalizes and cheapens the experience. I can't do it.
The road is not a place. It's a state. The happy confluence of people, place, and circumstance. There is no gamut of life it will not interject, sometimes gently, other times not so gently. It's indescribable to those who have lived it; wickedly extrinsic to those who have not. And so for the last few weeks while engaged inside this beautiful monster they call Lima Peru I have somehow found myself reevaluating the relationship I have with this site. It was inevitable.
If you've ever found yourself here looking for the polish and the shine, I have nothing left to offer you. Lima has offered me the kindest advice. Like Lima, life is about grit. It's about the off the cuff happenstance of daily life. It's not always pretty. It's not always profound. It just is.
Peru
Having marked my immigration and customs papers with the occupation of "traveler/magician/photographer" the bar has been set all too high. But alas the Peru gallery is live so snuggle up and enjoy the photos.
Hair and makeup
Not every idea in the world is a good one. My 22 hours yesterday in the air, on the ground, or commuting from one of four airports, is the pinnacle of my contribution to that thesis. What an insanely bad idea that was.
Now that I'm here I've got seven more days in Lima with little on the agenda. Maybe I'll get some rest.
The Velocity of Celebration
Tomorrow at 3am I roll out of bed and board a plane headed to Peru. In what will ultimately see me nestled down for months answering my true calling, Argentina, things are different now. Gone are the pretrip jitters and uneasy excitement that accompanied my previous long tours. In its place is an intoxicating peace. A true sense of whatever it was that I first sought on my first trip. Apparently, I must have been paying attention.
But drew, why Peru? Why Argentina? Sometimes I find myself asking that. But often the place picks the person. And so it is.
Unlike the past I don’t feel like polishing much these days. Quite frankly, I’m feeling quite off the cuff, creative and wide open. I’m not entirely sure how that changes my relationship with this site, but it will.
And lastly, although I am ultimately the one miserable little bastard that gets to live out his dreams and dance on mother earth with my muddy boots, I simply could not pull this off without the help, inspiration, support, advice, life, and love of a tremendous cast of characters that defy any attempt by my hand to give them the true thanks that they deserve. With you beside me I’m a better man. I love you guys, and this time this one’s for you.
Billie Holiday once said that a kiss never tasted is forever and ever wasted. And so it is, I’m off to South America.