The Old Mountain

I an sitting in my room, window open, just at the feet of Machu Picchu. There is a light rain falling and it is a cool 65 degrees. Every 15 minutes, like clockwork, a train passes just below my window, shuttling travelers up the mountain to see the breathtaking site of Machu Picchu.

I witnessed its magestic beauty yesterday and am forever changed.

The past four days have been transformative for me, offering fresh perpective on what it means to live, what one can do without, and a new appreciation for the Peruvian people and their land and culture.

This time has also given me a chance to meet others who understand and value traveling to distant places in order to make more sense of the world.

l am by far the youngest in the group of solo travelers and the least traveled, some people here have done over 19 trips with RS and have seen the world twice over.

No doubt that will be me in ten years, as travel to me is as essential as nurishnent to our body; it is nurishnent to my soul.

El Ninos has played a hand in this unusually wet period, and we will have to trapse to the bus station in the cold drizzle. To me, it is a beautiful blessing to commune here with other believers in lost civilizations and wonderous sites.

i wouldn't want it any other way.