So. Let's put it like this. I kind of got stuck in
Cusco. Shit son, more than stuck in reality hey??...the word
'smitten' might seem appropriate. Twice I tried to leave and twice I came whimpering back with my tail between my legs, waving the great white flag of surrender. It was all too much fun. How could I resist?!? Who would have thought, after that mind-mashing first shift, that I'd end up kicking about behind that bar until the start of
OCTOBER for god's sake!! I never sit in one place for more than I have to. It makes me fidgety. But of those of you who actually know me, I'm sure you'll all agree - I'm a sucker for a good time; and an even bigger sucker for a mobs full & unfaltering attention. I felt like the
King of Cusco. I could do anything...and so we
did do EVERYTHING...& maybe just a little more.
100% Young, Wild & Freeeeee...
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| Happy Dayzzz with 'The Rover' staff |
Sharing is caring. What a great family motto...and so it came to be; locked in
The Dungeon. The mere talk of this place still sends cold shivers down my spine. No other one room in that hostel could conjure up fantastical limericks & mythical whisperings much the same as that room could. No light came in, and there was definitely nothing good that ever came out. Truth be told; it was a festering trash dump. Bags, bread & bottles littered the floor. I'm actually sceptical that there even
is a floor, cause I'd never seen it. While clothes went missing, bras seemed to multiply in a clothesline like fashion across the tops of bunk beds. There wasn't even any need for a mish to the toilet either so it seemed...heck, we'd just piss in the bin!! I'd been hooking up with this red-head I thought was pretty snaz (and don't you worry, I still do me dear), yet as it turned out, so too had the rest of the damb bar!! I guess it really brought us all together in a fashion...minus the speckled willy. Early one morning I was sharing a spliff out in the back yard with this blonde
Estonian lass, when our bar manager stumbles out of his room to join us. He looked a little parched. Maybe more than a little petrified. Turns out he'd gone raw-dawg on the village's local gringo hunter, before she'd fell asleep & pissed all through his bed. Mate...great effort. Taking one for the team. Lucky for us, it just so happens we have some resident
Peruvian doctor located down the street who appears to enjoy our shenanigans, regularly frequents our bar & is willing to jab us staff in the buttocks for free. Yipeeee!!
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| BoalTown!! |
Amidst all the chaos, I did manage to eventually make it out to
Machu Picchu; although the journey in itself was an event to ponder. I'd signed up for the
Salkantay Trek, a longer & apparently more scenic alternative to the famous
Inca Trail. By this stage I was pretty excited to be getting out of that hostel, for a few nights off the drink, and had everything packed and ready to go beside my bed come nightfall. Some of the guys were heading up to
Loki for a few 'quiet' guzzlers, so stupidly I thought I might as well tag along for a couple of hours before bed. Ever heard the notion
'once you pop you can't stop??' well admittedly, that is me in a nutshell. How quickly that night seemed to evaporate!! Before I knew any different, I'd woken up in some small town on the back seat of a shuttle bus, missing a shoe & covered in cake crumbs. My head was spinning. I could barely remember leaving
Loki. Who were all these people?! And where the hell was I?? As it turned out, I'd been let loose on a bit of a bender that previous night. The
Estonian chick had racked me up early, & I'd definitely drank a few more than a few quiet guzzlers. I guess I got caught up in the moment. Apparently some folks had seen me in
Groove Club around 3:30 in the morning, when I was meant to be up by 4:30!! When the guides found me, I was curled up with the hostels cat on
The Dungeon floor, and had to have water splashed over my face before being carried out. I sure fucked up here. That first day was torturous!! I think I was still drunk until well after mid-day...then the hangover kicked in. Not the best way to make first impressions on a group of people you're to spend the next five days hiking with...
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| Salkantay Mountain |
I felt like a fool, but a good nights sleep had me nearly back to normal. This was the big day anyway; up and over the
Salkantay Pass, scooting around the sheer bulk of this impressive white-capped mountain. My group was quite forgiving to be fair, and I proved my worth racing up the slopes with youthful ease. The views were spectacular, and it felt great to be back out in the great outdoors where I belong. For the next three days we slogged it out through the changing environments, enjoying scenic campsites, hefty late night dinners & even a dip in a natural hot spring. By the time we reached
Aguas Calientes, I felt like a reborn man. Fresh once again. Add this to the excitement of visiting
Machu Picchu the following day, and you had yourself one satisfied sucker. This was the culminating moment of all these months of travel - I'd reached the watershed. Up until now, this was the place I'd been heading towards...and to be honest it left me feeling a little lost. The ruins themselves didn't disappoint. There is an unparallelled feeling of awe, the first time you set eyes upon this famous ruined citadel. Words can not describe. I tried my best to take it all in, as you always do - but it's not until you leave that you realise what you've just experienced. That day, I'm sure someone tapped me on the shoulder & showed me life is pretty sweet.
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| Me @ Machu Picchu |
And so with all that done & dusted, I returned to
The Rover. Here we go again...I'd ripped my new shorts flush apart on my way back on the bus, and was now boasting myself a pleated new kilt. It didn't take me long to get sucked back into my old ways. There was more
Naked Lizard Wrestling, some atrocious
Carly Rae Jepson karaoke, a mental half-way to
St Patricks Day party and forever more free shots and dancing across the table top of the bar. One night I was simply trying my best to work as hard as always, when out of no where I'd become completely stripped by a mob of about 12 local
Peruvian girls out for some chicks hens night. They hid my clothes & placed a veil over my head. Bokays of flowers came, before dildo's were forced between my teeth!! The photos floating around are ghastly. In truth, I hardly had any clothes left after the
Salkantay incident. I'd lost my shoes, most of my t-shirts & all of my socks. I was practically living out of the lost property bin & any
Wild Rover garments I could acquire. I did however find myself a bangin' 80's ski jacket & a pair of uggs which were great before people started using them as ash trays.
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| Half-Way to St Pat's!!! |
After another heavy week or so, I felt myself hitting the wall once again. I had to get out. A couple of the lads that I'd been hanging around with were planning on shooting off to
Arequipa after the weekend, and I felt that was my best chance to finally escape for good. I was kidding myself. Within a few hours of leaving the city I started dreaming of the dambed place & all those jolly times I'd had with all those more than amazing people. It didn't help that I'd been offered the bar managers position. That sent my head into a wild flurry. I'd become comfortable, let's put it that way. I knew people well, and people knew me. It was a refreshing change from the constant blow-in blow-out meeting process that goes on, over and over while on the road. That place had energy, and it's not every day you find a hostel like that. It matched my buzz perfectly. But that was the danger I now was facing. I still had a lot of
South America I still wanted to see; I was no where near done yet. That trip out to
Arequipa & the spectacular
Colca Canyon proved definitive. On our return to
Cusco, things had seemed to change. There was an unfamiliar, distant crowd frequenting the bar, and a whole new bunch of staff that had come & gone. They were still a great ol' craic don't get me wrong, but it just wasn't the same. Also I felt the weight of this big decision hanging over my head. It would have been a great experience to stay & smash out the good times for a few more months, but I simply wasn't ready just yet to stop in my tracks.
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| Colca Canyon |
As the story goes, my last week at
The Wild Rover guaranteed I left
Cusco with a righteous bang. It was one hell of a send off. My linguistically lopsided
Canadian pal made a grand mess of herself in one of the funniest
Hour of Power's I'd ever seen, another
Aussie lad & myself destroyed the entire competition in four straight games of
Beer Pong, the mighty
Swannies took out the
AFL Grand Final in a an epic blockbuster (which turned out to be one of the best nights of my life), and for reasons still unclear - I ended up with
Taz the
Tasmanian Devil tattooed across my arse. I will never fully be able to summarise all those antics that went down in
Cusco under my watch, so I'm never going to try. However long I was there for (a good month and a half I guess) would have to be some of the best weeks of my life; wild & relentless ball-busting times that I will never forget, and will always look back on fondly. To all you crayyyzeeee fockers who were there to share it all with me...happy days. Thanks for all the madness!! I hope to see you someday soon for a little more fun.
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| CARN' THE SWANNIES!!! |
