How does a relatively luxurious trip to Japan get changed to a relatively unluxurious trip to Peru? A pandemic, an expiring plane ticket, and a buddy with a hall pass all have something to do with that.
A good friend and I were supposed to head to Japan in late March of 2020 for a tour around the country. The world had other plans unfortunately and travel shut down as COVID-19 swept the globe. In December of 2021 my buddy, Nathan, let me know his ticket credit was about to expire and a trip needed to be booked ASAP. Besides, Nathan had never been off the continent, and was eager to get a passport stamp. Thinking Europe was the likely option I agreed to rebook a trip. Nathan quickly added that he would like to see South America. Great! I had not been to that continent, and Argentina or Chile would be a fantastic adventure! Always wanting to disrupt, Nathan boldly proclaimed Peru was top on his list. Interesting. A bit more rugged of a spot than someone usually chooses for a first major international trip. I knew very little of Peru- I knew Machu Picchu was there, and the number 2 restaurant in the world, Central, was in Lima. So why not? I'm always up for adventure. Besides, a goal of mine ever since I heard the song by CSNY was to see the Southern Cross. Romanticized in my head as a major symbol of adventure, that constellation could be seen just as easily from Peru as it could from Chile or Argentina.
With the destination decided, we convinced another buddy to join, and planning began. And by planning began, I mean I began. Details were assigned to me, which was ok since I'm 1) a well-seasoned traveler, and 2) just a bit of a control freak with such things. Researching Peru was fascinating. I discovered Lima is an immense city of 10 or so million people and is considered the culinary capital of South America. Cusco, the ancient Incan imperial city of the Andes, is arguably the archeological capital of the Western Hemisphere. And Cusco is so much more than the gateway to the ancient citadel of Machu Picchu. And, most embarrassing to me for not knowing, I discovered that the Amazon River begins in Peru, and the eastern 2/3 of the country is the Amazon Rainforest. I quickly sent a text to Nathan and Jess informing them that the Amazon must be a stop. They quickly agreed and assigned "River of Doubt" as required reading. Detailing the misery of Teddy Roosevelt's terrible experience in the Amazon, I'm not sure if that homework assignment was wise. Nonetheless, passage to the Amazon was added to Lima and Cusco. Reservations to Central were booked, a guide service to Machu Picchu hired, and we were set.
Nathan's hall pass firmly in hand, he (with a very accommodating wife and 6 kids at home), our friend Jess (devoted dog-dad), and I (happy bachelor) set off for South America.
Lima
My first glimpse of South America was the Cordillera Blanca in the Andes north of Lima. The world's second largest collection of 20,000 foot peaks, even from the jet they were impressive- monstrous fortress-looking rocks dripping with glaciers. Excitement built in. I love mountains; obsessed with them, more like it. And these are some of the most storied and exotic. Descending into Lima, it's clear that it's a huge city. Occupying a desert basin wedged between the Andean foothills and the Pacific, Lima is packed with people, high rises, and traffic. It also has one of the most unique climates on Earth. Firmly in the tropics, it however is not hot. Or sunny. And it's bone dry. It has a year-round average high temperature of about 75 degrees, receives .81 inch of rainfall a year, and is completely fogged in for 9 months. It's the cloudiest and second driest national capital in the world. We were arriving at the tail end of summer, the sunny season. Lima is not a supermodel city. Concrete block after concrete block greet you after leaving the airport. Graffiti, traffic following some barely held-to chaotic rhythm, and dogs fill the street. But there are some very pleasant neighborhoods that somewhat remind me of the Upper West Side of Manhattan. At its best Lima has long boulevards lined with trees and 15-20 story upscale apartment buildings, with coffee shops and restaurants overlooking the ocean or a park. The old city has all the photogenics of a European capital. At its most desperate it looks like any image of a South American favela, but one thing that stood out- residents took pride in their neighborhoods no matter what the economic status was. Streets and sidewalks were clean, and there were armies of workers collecting garbage and tidying up nonstop.
Staying in an Airbnb in the wealthy neighborhood of Miraflores, our first stop was the local mall to get some provisions for the trip. Nathan needed socks. And, that friends, was the real first adventure. Nathan looking for just the right stockings had all the hallmarks of Goldilocks visiting the den of the three bears- if the bears had friends, who also had dens, and den had choices of the beds and porridge. Indeed, we found ourselves visiting 5 different stores looking for just the perfect mix of wool/synthetic/cotton, ankle/midcalf/no show, padded/unpadded, and, for the love of all things holy, NO BLACK. North Face, Patagonia, H&M, and Columbia were all no match for the discerning taste and relentless drive of Mr. Nathan Johnson. At one point the perfect pair were thought to be found at North Face- 70% wool/30% elastane, padded sole, thin upper, mid-calf, tailormade for hiking the Andes. But that's where the prohibition on black socks was discovered. So, I took my leave and looked for overpriced sunglasses. The last thing I remember was Jess emerging with a shell-shocked look of defeat declaring that the search was still on.
It is much easier to find good food, and perhaps even more importantly, great coffee in Lima. The city lays claim as the home of ceviche, and the Andes grow some of the finest cafe arabica in the world. You are never far from a quick delicious meal, or a truly outstanding cup of coffee. Exploring restaurants and finding beverages in Lima will keep any food enthusiast busy for days. The locals are quick to help if not overly warm, but a smile and an inquiry beginning in Spanish will guarantee a good recommendation and a friendly chat will be reciprocated. Ceviche in Lima is near religion. Octopus, squid, fish, shrimp, and scallop all make appearances liberally doused in sharp lime juice. Large kernels of some Incan corn variety is nearly as ubiquitious as the seafood in the dish. The contrast in textures is fantastic.
Central
Central is, simply put, one of the top food destinations in the world. When we ate there it occupied the second slot on the list of best restaurants in the world. Central showcases Peruvian Cuisine with a unique menu that is arranged by elevation. Peru is one of the most geographically and biologically diverse spots on the planet. From sea-level on the Pacific to 22,000 feet high in the Andes, and back to near sea level on the Amazon River, Peru is the home of countless species of fish, fruit, vegetables, tubers, and meats. Corn, chocolate, and potatoes originated in Peru. It is, without a doubt, one of the greatest food locations on the planet. And Central celebrates this rich heritage. A fine dining institution to rival the great restaurants in New York or Paris, a meal here is a 4-hour affair with 12 or 13 courses, wine and cocktail pairings, and service that anticipates everything possible. Set in a small modern dining room of concrete and stone, it somehow does all this while being warm and unpretentious. Each course is explained and arrives with whatever tools it needs to enjoy it properly. The food is firmly in the molecular gastronomy category, with foams, innovative creams, and lattice-like brittles making frequent appearances. Everything is delicious. One of the best meal courses of my life was a semi-frozen dessert that consisted of tiny, gelatinized nuggets of amazon fruits (think upscale Dippin' Dots). It was outrageous. I have no idea what the fruits were, or if I'll ever have them again. But it was flawless.
Our time in Lima coming to a close, I was not yet successful in my quest to see the Southern Cross. Too much fog at night, and likely too much light pollution. The trip was still young, so many opportunities still lay ahead. It was time to set off to perhaps more storied destinations of South America. The Andes and the Amazon
Cusco and Machu Picchu
Arriving in Cusco is beautiful. A 45 minute flight from Lima, the plane barely has time to gain enough altitude to crest the Andes. The descent is nerve-wracking for those with window seats- the city is set in a deep valley at 11,000 feet and surrounded by 14-17,000 foot mountains. The plane barely clears the land below which in late March is a beautiful emerald with crystalline creeks coursing through the countryside (yes, the plane is low enough to see these details). At this latitude, land up to 15,000 feet above sea level is inhabited and cultivated. Arriving in Cusco is chaotic and breathless. Cars and mopeds careen around a disheveled neighborhood that gradually transitions into a spectacular old city where Spanish Colonial structures are perched upon demolished Incan structures. Cusco was the royal city of the Incan Empire, and later became an important Spanish Colonial city. It is considered to be a marvel of Incan architecture. The Incans were arguably the greatest stone masons in the world. You can still cut a line between the previous Incan foundations and the later Spanish additions by the lack of mortar in the Incan structures. The stones fit perfectly. The Spanish structures look downright sloppy in comparison with their haphazard shaped stones bonded together by mortar. The resulting city is beautiful. The cathedrals, colonial era buildings, and winding alleys create a cityscape not of this time. The rough part is the alleys are STEEP. At 11,000 feet above sea level that means heads pound and lungs scream.
Something you quickly notice in Cusco is that coca is everywhere. Coca is the parent plant of cocaine, and is completely ingrained into Incan culture. While cocaine is still illegal, coca leaves, coca tea, and coca candy are common. The first thing offered to you at a hotel is coca tea. At our Airbnb there was a basket of coca leaves on the dining room table for tea. On the streets we were offered to sample the stronger stuff. We politely declined. The tea is not psychoactive in normal quantities. I was told if you drink enough, you can get a mild euphoric feeling, but nothing more. The more important use of coca tea in the Andes is to ward off the symptoms of altitude sickness. Locals swear by it for its therapeutic properties. We drank plenty of coca tea, but I don't believe any of us experienced any tea-induced euphoria. Locals, especially farm laborers, bundle the leaves and place it between the lip or cheek and gums for an increased buzz. If one wants a stronger high (but still nowhere near the jolt from doing a line of coke) and increased endurance, they add a few drops of lime juice to the chaw. I found the tea to be quite good- similar to a grassier, stronger green tea. I might of even considered bringing some home, but I was told that that could go very, very badly depending on the customs agent at LAX. Reluctantly, I passed on the opportunity to import this important culinary product, or become the next El Chapo- I'm not sure how the dice would've rolled out.
So with our coca tea-induced altitude immunity acquired, it was time to sample the local Andean cuisine. That means lots of corn, lots of potatoes, and alpaca and guinea pig (cuy). Andean food is on the heavier side of meals. A bit similar to Alpine cuisine in France- but with less cheese, and more alpaca. Alpaca is just fine. Nothing amazing, nothing revolting. I would still opt for a slab of beef any day. I only tried guinea pig once, and it turned out to not be guinea pig, so no report on that delicacy.
The next morning we began our journey to Machu Picchu. Usually I am fairly resistant to going with a tour or guided group, but Machu Picchu is frustratingly complicated to secure self-guided tickets to, especially from outside Peru. Each guide book I read testified to this. fortunately Jess's cousin recently went to Peru and had a great experience with a guide, so we went with the service they used. Machu Picchu is about 60 miles and a full day from Cusco. The trip we chose was two full days with a day in the Sacred Valley.
The journey to the Sacred Valley of the Inca is beautiful. The high country surrounding Cusco is not quite alpine- getting there involves good roads snaking through buff and green colored hills that just happen to be 15,000 high and dotted with farms and villages. I'm not actually sure how high we got in Peru (mountains, not coca). I think over 14, but not quite 15,000 feet. But I could be totally wrong. The land is undeniably beautiful. Being there in the wet season, glimpses of the High Andes were few. But with an occasional break in the clouds clinging to the peaks, glimpses of glaciers and towering stone faces were enough to convince me to return someday.
The descent into the sacred valley was met with rapidly warming temperatures, raging rivers, and small villages filled with folks walking lamas and alpacas. The ruins of Pisaq were the first real glimpse of the ancient Incan Empire. A city that descended a steep mountainside in shimmering emerald terraces, the site commands an impressive view of the valley and mountains beyond. There are evocative stone ruins dotting the site.
Continuing on through the Sacred Valley, the road hugs the Urubamba River as it thunders toward the Amazon. Village after village swept by, with dogs, lamas, carts, mopeds, and guinea pig farms with them. The next stop was one of the most impressive sites I've ever seen.
Ollantaytambo is a normal tourist village with an incredible exclamation point. The ruins of Ollantaytambo look like something straight out of an Indiana Jones movie. A steep-stepped pyramid built into the side of a mountain, it is as imposing and sudden as a quality ruin should be. Our guide took us to the top of the ruin, and after many oxygen-starved steps and near-puke breaks, I also made it. The view was spectacular. Green valleys, ruins, and the High Andes all fill the view. Unfortunately our time was short, as the train to Aguas Calientes, the base camp for Machu Picchu, was scheduled to leave. But the sight of the fortress at Ollantaytambo will forever be a favorite travel memory.
The train from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes descends 3000 feet and goes from one climate to another. Ollantaytambo sits around 9000' above sea level on the drier side of the mountains. The train rumbles along the Urubamba River and enters the cloud forest on the eastern side of the Andes. The trees grow taller and bigger, the scrub turns to ferns and palms, and the mountainsides grow alive with falling water. Arriving in Aguas Calientes you are greeted by the sound of rushing water. It's everywhere. This is the very edge of the Amazon Rainforest I learned. The location, if not the city itself, is spectacular. It's humid, tropical, and warm. The town seems perched on forest clad mountains and suspended over rushing rivers. The compact downtown is filled with souvenir shops and restaurants. While the town itself clearly caters to tourists, the food is fine and the people friendly. A perfectly pleasant place to stroll.
The next morning, fog hung thick on the mountains, a steady drizzle fell, and the trip to Machu Picchu started. We chose to take the bus rather than hike the few thousand feet to the storied city. I'm glad. Rain pelted, and the trees dripped incessantly. Arriving at the gates was like any other park I've been to- tickets, bathrooms, all the usual. Our guide set off taking us through what I think was the Sun Gate for that iconic first view of Machu Picchu. We wound through minor ruins, and when we broke out for the grand reveal (you could tell by the dozens of other travelers milling around or listening to their guides) we got nothing. Thick fog obscured the world. Our guide indicated we would wait, and regaled us with a much (muuuuuch) too long story of obscure history. I love history, but I could tell this was stalling for time. Excusing myself with the excuse of I needed to move because my knees hurt from prolonged standing, I wandered to the edge of the view spot to sit and take it in in silence. Regardless of the lack of view, I was in one of the most incredible destinations in the world, and I was going to enjoy it. I looked over where I knew the city should be, staring into the grey. Then, like a dream you can barely remember but can still see its rapidly fading scenes, an outline of stone buildings appeared. 30 seconds later, the ghostly profile of Machu Picchu appeared. I tried to get my guides attention, but because I had the PRIME photo spot, I didn't want to leave. Finally I hissed "Jess!!!" and motioned to the emerging icon. I think I heard an "oh, CRAP!" and the rest of our crew cutting off our guide and hurrying over. Watching Machu Picchu come to life out of a fogstorm will forever be one of my favorite travel memories.
We then descended to walk among the ruins. Its a fantastic experience. Exquisite stone work dots the mountaintop. The views beyond are cloudforest and mist cloaked mountains. The history about each of the structures is muddled in my mind and mostly forgotten, unfortunately. But the views of evocative stone buildings and mountains beyond are burned in my memory.
Back in Cusco, a relaxed day around the city was next on the agenda. Ruins, cathedrals, and tasty rustic cuisine occupied the day. As the day wore into evening, we discovered that Cusco has a pretty good craft beer scene. We headed to Sacred Valley Brewery, where the proprietor was Colorado trained, locally connected, extremely friendly, and talented. It seemed rare for a few Yankees from the PNW to wander into the brewery, so the brewer and waitress were eager to show us a good time and how good the offerings from Highland Peru could be. They put us out on the balcony overlooking the Old City, and some local celebration kept the street music playing til late. Looking down on the flood lit main square, with incredible beer made from Incan heirloom ingredients, it was easy to get lost in the moment. The samples were generous, and the pours even more so. Needless to say in the thin air at 11,000 feet the alcohol goes straight to the head. I don't like to be intoxicated to begin with, even less so when travelling, but this certainly became inevitable as the conversations, music, and beverages flowed into the Andean night.
I did have the wherewithal to look for the Southern Cross upon returning to our Airbnb, but with no luck. Too many clouds. 7 nights into my Peruvian adventure, and the legendary constellation had still yet to be seen.
A couple days later, the most unknown part of the trip began. The Amazon was waiting. I was gearing up in my head for several days of being uncomfortable. Stifling heat, suffocating humidity, No A/C, unknown food, and bugs, snakes, spiders, and scorpions all were waiting- this I knew. But nothing could prepare me for the adventure of the most storied River and Rainforest on the planet.
We flew into Iquitos, the largest city in the world with no road access. Even on approach dropping through the clouds, the view was unlike any I'd ever seen. An endless green rainforest canopy with fog steaming off the trees marched to the horizon. Occasionally some unknown tree blooming in riotous yellow would break up the emerald. The airport is one of those walk onto the tarmac spots- and getting off the plane, the air landed an uppercut right to the face. Thick, hot, and steamy, it was clear we were no longer in the Andes. The first night we stayed in a hotel downtown. A very pleasant place, a bit faded and worn, the hotel occupied a former home of a rubber baron. Before checking in, though, the first view of the Amazon River awaited. Across the street from the hotel, the Amazon swollen with flood water pouring into it from thousands of square miles. The Amazon Basin is FLAT. How flat?? Iquitos is at something like river mile 3700. 3700 miles upstream from the Atlantic Ocean. It sits at 400 feet above sea level! Looking across the river at the rainforest, the horizon is composed of the tree tops for thousands of miles. The only thing interrupting the flatness of the canopy are the towering cumulus clouds dropping torrential rain in frequent deluges. I'm becoming a decently jaded traveller- I've experienced a lot and seen a lot. Despite that, the Amazon was magnificent.
The next day we met our guides that were going to take us to the eco-lodge 50 miles downstream from Iquitos. We loaded into an aluminum transport boat, and set off on the great river. We also met our companions for the trip- 3 ladies from the Netherlands on a friends trip, and a solo gentleman from Berlin. All three fun, adventurous, and not surprisingly with flawless English. But also spoke to our guides in Spanish. Europeans. Not 3 minutes from the dock, river dolphins greeted us with an acrobatic flip and splash! "Pink dolphins?" I asked excited to see the rare mammal. "No, gray. The grays are much more playful". We entered the main channel of the Amazon in about 10 minutes. Immense. Like nothing I've ever seen. Miles wide, the current strong, the river is beyond description. The rainforest marches right down to the river edge. We sped down the river passing village, chalana (river boat) and endless forest. Distant rainstorms could be seen as gray curtains descending down from the impossibly large thunderheads. In about 90 minutes we arrived at the eco-lodge. The lodge and grounds were carved right into the jungle on the rivers edge. Hardwood plank walkways kept guests above the marshy ground. A comfortable thatch-roofed hut would be home for the next three days. The lodge featured a kitchen and dining room, a small bar, and, surprisingly, a swimming pool (one of only two among the Peruvian Amazon lodges, I was told). But no air conditioning and power for only 8 hours a day remind you that you are a long way from anywhere. It was not luxurious, but perfectly comfortable. The lodge was run by a lady with an strong fist in a velvet glove (their words, not mine) named Maria. They called her the "Lodge Mama". Maria had an easy smile, hospitable way, but you knew she was in charge. And holy cow could Maria cook. We had our welcome lunch which was fried Amazon fish, rice, beans, vegetables, and fruit. Everything delicious.
The first amazon adventure was piranha fishing. We took a much smaller longboat several miles downriver and entered a lagoon to catch the mythical little fish. Our guide, Eduardo, showed us the technique. You disturb the surface of the water with your pole tip to simulate a struggling animal. This draws the critters to the location. Then you drop a hook baited with raw beef and try to snag one. As it turned out, I was a natural born piranha fisherman. I caught the first, and the second, and even figured out how to entice them to frenzy. It was a sight. You make the baited hook dance a bit at the surface, and swarms of the hungry little fish would violently attack the offered beef, darting back in an instant. It didn't take long when frenzied to empty the hook of meat. The entire boat had a grand time reeling in the voracious little fish- except for the passionate fisherman among us, who was skunked. I won't name names, but I will say they had very high end discriminately chosen socks.
The lagoon was tranquil- edged by huge trees and birds of every description. This afternoon was sunny, humid, and impressively hot. The lodge recommends long pants and long sleeved shirts to prevent mosquito bites. Not my chosen attire for what feels like a hot summer day. On the trip back , a ripple could be seen on the surface of the Amazon. A ripple, and a flesh colored hump. Pink River Dolphins were spotted! We hung out with the dolphins for a bit, then went back to the lodge for dinner.
That evening's excursion was a hike in the jungle. A night hike. In the Amazon. If there is one thing that defines the night in the Amazon, it's noise. There are chirps, whistles, caws, and surprisingly, a video game like glassy chime. Seriously, both I and Jess thought it was fake. Convinced someone was playing a video game on their phone we asked the guide what that was. He indicated it was a frog making that noise. Incredible. We went looking for snakes, spiders, and bullet ants. Yes, yes, and yes. Successful on all fronts. Tarantulas turned out to be as common as flies. I think they are quite cool, but not everyone shared my enthusiasm. One of the more feared animals of the rainforest is the bullet ant. Living in tree trunks, our guide coaxed some out with a thunk thunk thunk from his machete. The two inch long ant is said to have a bite 40 times more painful than a yellow jacket. Having once stepped on a yellow jacket nest, I wanted no part of the bullet ant. We also found poison dart frogs. They contain enough poison to kill a man, so it's a good thing our guide pointed them out. They are tiny- maybe half the size of my pinkie finger nail. They're dark green with either a fluorescent red or yellow strip- the only way to really spot the little buggers.
Once back at the lodge, a trip to the dining area was in order and long conversations with the Euros about life in the USA, how Americans think of Europeans (they were very curious), the state of the world, what makes each country tick, all of it. Conversations with Europeans get beyond soccer and weather very quickly if you show yourself willing. They are much better at non small talk than we are. I love it.
The next day started with an incredible thunderstorm and downpour at 5:30am. Water came down as if it was being poured from a bucket. Our guide told us the morning's adventure was cancelled. I was not disappointed. The lodge was so pleasant, and listening to the thunder and rain in the rainforest so satisfying, I couldn't imagine a better way to spend a few hours. It also cooled it down quite a bit. The lodge brewed fresh coffee, and invited everyone to enjoy a slow morning. Perfect. Walking out to the river, I would be hard pressed for a better travel memory.
That afternoon, we took an excursion down the river. And honestly, I don't even remember what it was for. What I do remember is having to return through a thunderstorm similar to the morning's. Coming back we all could see the black curtain descending from the huge black thundercloud. Thinking we would sail to shore and wait it out, I wasn't concerned. But when our guides pointed, grinned, and motioned for us to hold on to our hats, I was half impressed, half terrified. My companions looked shocked. The Euros were indignant. The rain started by drenching, then pelting, then came down like bullets. The wind was fierce, snapping every article of clothing, bench cushions, and depositing any unsecured bottle into the river. Lightning licked the sky like tongues of a 100 snakes. If I wasn't having so much fun, I might have been scared. But our guides seemed non-impressed, and they were life long river runners. So I enjoyed the spectacle. Fantastic.
The afternoons storms cancelled another early evening excursion, but our guides promised to make it up to us if the storms cleared. I was not disappointed to have a quiet afternoon for a nap and reading next to the amazon. After dinner, the storms indeed cleared, and the guide let us know we were going to go for an evening drift. They cautioned us not to expect too much, but they wanted to ensure we got enough time on the mighty Amazon, since we had two excursions cancelled. We went out right at sunset and travelled four miles up the River. We were to watch night descend, hear the animals come alive, and relax. I think the guides still thought this was a poor consolation prize (to bird watching, I think). What they didn't quite realize was that this was perfection. The setting sun lit up the tops of dozens of immense cumulus towers. The Amazon was calm, and the evening turned to dusk. That's when the show really began. Those cumulus towers became distant beacons as they were lit up internally from their own lightning. Every few seconds a new storm announced itself- far enough away for the thunder to be just a low rumble, close enough that details of the cell were laid bare by flickering lighting. Then the birds chimed in- building to a cacophony of chirps, songs, and cries, accompanied by the bass notes of the thunderstorms. So we drifted back to the lodge on the current of the Amazon, and listened and watched as a heavenly symphony from time immemorial played out just it had for forever. Some "consolation prize".
This was the last evening in the Rainforest. Tomorrow night would be Lima, then home. We met up with our European friends in the dining hall/bar, and chatted the evening away. As luck would have it, Peru was playing Uruguay in a World Cup qualifier. We all became temporary Peruvians as service nearly shut down and the entire lodge staff watched the match on the only TV in the lodge. Decorum was put aside for the night, and the staff cracked cervezas and became guests (or we became lodge staff) with the rest of us and we all lived and died with each Peruvian National Team play. I think Maria the lodge mom was ok with this arrangement as it was just us easy going Americans and the 4 Europeans that night in the lodge- and it was pretty clear we were about the lowest maintenance crew any lodge operator could hope for.
As the night wore on, and Peru wasn't faring well, I realized I still had yet to see the Southern Cross. knowing that would not be possible in Lima, I hurried to the edge of the River to see if there were clear skies to spy my stars. Unwisely only in shorts and a tshirt (malaria or dengue fever be damned) I walked to the end of the dock. Pitch black. A distant guitar strumming somewhere back up in the lodge. And, just few stars between the clouds. I sat there, waiting. Bringing up my sky map app, I looked for where the Southern Cross should be. It would be just above the horizon, due South. The clouds drifted in and out, and then, the horizon stayed clear. Letting my eyes focus, there was the Cross, draped above the Amazon River.
"When you see the Southern Cross, For the first time, You understand now why you came this way".
