System shut down
Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
333Trip End Ongoing
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It was dubbed 'Peru verses The Rest of the World'. We had An English-Scotsman, an Irishman, a New Zealander, an Israeli and an Aussie. Their team consisted of four Peruvians and a Dutchman, and they played every week together. I'd not kicked a ball since November, was wearing tennis trainers and still had the golf ball down my neck. Paddy and myself gave a decent enough account of ourselves, scoring all our goals, with one cracking overhead from the Irishman; but we were too unfit, and we had an Aussie to their Dutchman. I hate losing. Especially when I know they were beatable, and a girlfriend of one of their average players was cheering and giggling from the sidelines. We were subjected to grinning and gloating Peruvians for the rest of the night. A months fitness work, some match practice and a couple of the boys from back home, and we would have torn them a new arsehole. Then we'd see who was doing the giggling. Bitch.
No sorry I got carried away.
So here I am on a night bus to Cusco, tired and aching, desperately trying for sleep. Then someone has a fit in the rows behind, and the guy to my left starts puking smelly vomit for miles. I'm talking about gut wrenching, projectile, Exorcist-was-tame chunder. I was booked into seat number 13, because this is the only one on its own. I had my face buried under my top to stop the smell, but could do little about the gurgling coming from across the isle. After a light sleep at best, I come to in a freezing Cusco morning, popping ears, the razor still in my throat, aching limbs and a cold sore. A big fucking cold sore. Paddy's paid 40 soles less than me and had a cracking nights sleep. You just couldn't make it up.
First impressions of Cusco is that it's a horrible gringo town. Yes it's nice to look at but the place is hoaching with tourists, not travelers, all of whom have jumped on a plane to Lima and made their way here. We're staying at Pariwana, one of the most ridiculous hostels I've ever seen. It's more like a castle, with over one hundred beds; soulless, impersonal, anti-social. I'm OK with the last part, due to the volcano that is appearing on my lower lip, but typically the place is rammed with attractive women. I sit with my hood up playing chess for the rest of the day in a stinking mood, falling out with myself. I'm drugged up to the eyeballs trying to combat my system shutdown while praying a carrot, orange, ginger and spinach smoothie will turn me around. I'm clearly in peak physical condition for my trek to Machu Picchu; totally out of breath at the top of the stairs.