I realise I've been quite melodramatic in this blog so far. I've used the phrase 'I thought I was going to die,' a lot.
Sorry Mum.
To be fair, though, at the time I thought I was. There's been a lot of times, navigating these mountains in a big white bus, that I've closed my eyes and thought, 'Jesus take the wheel.'
Which is especially fitting as our bus driver is actually named Jesus. It's pronounced 'Heseuss,' but calling him by his correct name would mean passing up the opportunity for endless Jesus jokes. And when you meet Jesus, you don't just let that slide.
But anyway, before I start, I thought I'd just take this chance to reassure everyone that I am in fact Alive and well, and currently sitting in a Cafe in Ollantaytambo eating a plum brownie. And to say thank you to everyone who has been reading this and messaging me while I'm away! (So really just thanks again, Mum. It's nice to feel loved.)
Yesterday, we embarked on an activity which I had been approaching with some trepidation.
Generally, a moron, a mountain and a very fast bike is a recipe for disaster. An unfit moron,at that. If anyone could manage to break their neck mountain biking, chances are it would be this moron right here.
The moron is me, guys. Just in case you didn't get that yet. I'm the moron.
But surprisingly it was... Incredible.
We started off, and I was convinced that I would be super slow and unfit and get left behind immediately. Kind of the opposite was true, I ended up overtaking people and zooming down this mountain at crazy speeds.
The road was full of loose stones, sharp corners, and dips in the ground, but I found bracing myself against these obstacles to be an incredible rush. At one point, I hit a really bad section of road. My bike skidded, I started to freak out, but- and this is really exciting for me- I managed to keep my seat and get through it no problem.
Keeping control of that bike at a speed I can only describe as 'Hella Cray,' is now one of my prouder achievements.
I can't describe the feeling. Gathering speed, loose stones flying, the wind rushing in your face, and the most incredible view.
I was singing my lungs out, inaudible against the wind. My bike bumped and jolted, jarring my arms from the wrists to the shoulders.
We biked all the way to the Salt Ponds- which is truly an incredible sight.
From above, thousands of white salt pools looked like a collection of cells inside a living organism, lined up next to each other and reflecting sunlight, all the way to the valley floor.
Going down into the mine was something I'll never forget.
I've never seen so much salt in my life. Warm channels of water flowed between the pools as they dried in the sun, and we wandered carefully on the walls between the pools, struck by the beauty and ingenuity of such an incredible place.
Onward we biked, and the ground became rougher. Our hands cramped up from squeezing our brakes- going too fast here would mean an accident for sure.
But did I fall off? NO I DID NOT :D and I'm super proud of that.
At the end of the ride, we were on the banks of a river, down in the sacred valley. I was full of adrenaline.
Then a beautiful woman walked up to us and said, 'Hey! There's a brewery across that bridge. Ridiculously cheap beer tasters!'
Immediately, I pulled out my phone to text my best friend. 'Dude- I think I may have just lived your dream.'
The beer was awesome. I tried pink beer. It rocked. We had burritos for dinner afterwards. That rocked too.
All in all, everything rocked that day.
Except for... Well, how do I put this delicately. There are bruises on my ass. On all our asses, I hear. Mountain biking comes at a price.
Today, we took on the ziplines. I'd been psyching myself up for this for weeks, because the truth is- well, I'm terrified of heights. I'm a big fat chicken. Yesterday was a lot of fear facing for me; going fast makes me feel like I'm not in control. And I'm terrified of losing control.
Ziplines are the perfect combination of heights, speed and the complete helplessness of being suspended on a wire with nothing to stop yourself with to turn my knees to jelly.
Gee that was personal. Talking about my fears? I gotta go punch a wall to feel tough again.
At the first zipline, looking over the edge, my immediate thought was incredibly profound. I thought, 'Shit, what if I pee myself on here? I don't want to pee myself. I have to pee.'
Spoiler alert: I didn't pee myself. Yes, I'm proud of me too.
When they clipped me on to the wire- I'll be honest, I made peace with dying.
Nineteen years is a good run, I thought. Jesus and I are pretty tight bros. I'm ready.
Complete and utter acceptance of dying didn't stop me from screaming like a white girl being told that her local Starbucks was out of pumpkin spice lattes, though. I made more noise than the donkeys at Misminay did while we were all trying to sleep.
But, as I made clear at the beginning, today was not the day I met my maker.
Instead, it was the day I took my lifelong fears of heights and losing control and kicked them both in the face.
The view was spectacular. The adrenalin rush beat everything I've encountered so far. It was the biggest thrill I've ever had.
There's this thing the instructors called 'The Superman.'
You put your harness on backwards, and go across the wire lying on your stomach, arms out, looking down at the massive drop beneath you.
It's the ultimate loss of control. An instructor goes across, holding your legs and brakes for you at the other side so you don't plough into the mountain. Your life is entirely in their hands.
'I have to do this,' I thought. Time to prove to myself that I can.
And it was... Liberating.
A feeling of complete and total freedom, the rush of the wind and the view of the sacred valley and... Everything. Oh my god. I have never felt so alive before in my life.
I don't know if I would call myself a thrillseeker. But I want to feel that rush again. It was amazing.
We returned around 1pm, and there was no way I could sit still. I decided to hike up one of the surrounding mountains by myself- as much as I love everyone on my team, I'm an introvert at heart and was in desperate need of a solo adventure.
And, predictably, I got lost. I hiked through the entire town instead looking for the way to the trail. Which wasn't bad at all, Ollantaytambo is beautiful. There's channels of water running everywhere, and the cobbled streets and Incan walls and fascinating.
Which is how I found myself back at my favourite Cafe, having my first really good cup of coffee since arriving in Peru.
All in all, an action packed few days,and a very happy Georgia. Macchu Piccu tomorrow!
Much love!
- G xx
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