Night of the living selfie

Final night in Cusco. I have to tell you, the thought of leaving this place has me feeling exactly like the 10th Doctor. 

I got on a horse for the first time in my life yesterday.

I'm just going to confess something to you right here- horses freak me out. Always have. I just don't trust them. I think it's the face. 

Apparently, watching me try and get on this horse was hilarious. You're welcome, team, I'm actually just here for the entertainment value.

I kind of belly flopped onto its back. Apparently this is not correct horse mounting procedure. Who would know? 

My horse was so pretty though. It was actually exactly the same colour as the toy Barbie horse I had as a child; a light golden colour with a black mane and tail.

I never did find out its name. I alternated between calling it Babe, Diva, and Honey Boo Boo.

Maybe my horse was pissed off at being called Honey Boo Boo. Maybe it was just a Diva with a whole lot of Sass. But it was quickly apparent that this horse had ZERO chill.

I learnt to trot and canter- very fast. Out of necessity. Honey Boo Boo wasn't slowing down for anybody. 

It was fun. Honey Boo Boo was a strong independent horse who heeded no instructions and had a particular fondness for taking the most precarious looking rock paths, I respect that.

One of the other horses was taking none of her shit, though. 

There must have been some kind of horsey disagreement. I don't know the specifics. All I know is that they decided to try and bite one another, and both horses bucked like crazy. 

Hey- handled it!  

So far I've managed to stay on a speeding, skidding mountain bike and a bucking horse. Guess that speaks volumes for my ability to... Stay on... Things. Yeah. 

I also took up parkour. By accident.

By this I mean we were climbing a hill to give the horses a break and check out the view from the top. Coming down said hill, I slipped spectacularly and turned it into a nice little roll. It was pretty smooth.

One girl saw. She's actually still laughing about it. 

After our last supper together- god I'm going to miss eating alpaca- we decided to hit the town.

We met some friends at our usual bar, and made a couple of new friends. We somehow acquired a large group of Americans. And then one of the bartenders at our favourite bar gave us entry wristbands for Temple nightclub- thank you Milton!
You know when you wake up the next morning and go, 'Man, how did last night get so out of control?' Well... Yep. Pretty much all the shenanigans can be traced back to this exact moment.

By the time we got to Temple nightclub, our group was pretty sizeable. And not quite smashed, but getting there. 

And I managed to lose every single one of them once we were inside. Good job, Georgia, of course you did. 

Two things about me that you should know before I proceed-

1. If you take me out dancing I can basically dance indefinitely, I love it so much.

2. Snoop Dogg is my JAM. 

I remember doing shots of Pisco that were on fire. I hate drinking pisco straight; hell, I'm at the point now where I'm reluctant even to have it in my cocktails. No more pisco sours! The people revolt!

Turns out you can have too much of a good thing. But hey... It was 40 soles for 5 shots and a stupidly large glass of beer. 

I remember dancing, a LOT. I remember dancing to Snoop Dogg in particular.

I think at one point I was behind the bar, just chilling with the bartenders. (I thought I could go two weeks without working, I was wrong.) I danced behind the bar. I knocked over a bottle. The bartenders were cool about it. 

I remember music thumping, people jumping, and taking a lot of selfies.

Recall kind of... Stops there, though.

All I know is that I had a blast.

According to my roommate, I came in at 4 and made a comical effort to put on my pyjamas.

Still better than the other time I got drunk on the trip and did Shakespeare in an awful Irish accent for her, though.

My roommate is a saint. 

The next day was understandably rough, for all of us.

Final lunch was at Papacho's, the GREATEST burger place in existence (and also our favourite bar in the city) and Damn am I going to miss that food like crazy. 

Come to think of it, I'm pretty much going to miss everything about Peru.

I'll miss the way there always seems to be a celebration on, and the dancing in Plaza de San Blas. I'll miss the vegans cafe's, and the lovely girls from the yoga room.

I even miss the way that traffic rules are more of a suggestion, and that using an indicator is considered poor form.

I think it's the people I'll miss most, though. 

My wonderful Peru team- they're all family now. It's going to be hard adjusting to not having this big family to talk to! I'll miss randomly breaking out in song, like, all the time. My life is no longer a musical and that's going to make me sad. 

This trip has been a blessing, and a hell of a time. I wish I could stay longer!

If my Spanish was better I may have just done that! (Just kidding, Mum.) 

With a pounding head and a heavy heart, but still

Much love,
- G