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Getting old?

Written on: Tuesday June 12th, 2007

A journal entry from: See you next year!

It was in Ayacucho I realised I might be getting old. Nine years ago I spend a couple of days here, coming from Huancayo, the same itinerary as this time. But this time I hated the journey. An old bus with twice as many people as seats on board, and a few extra kilos and meters on top of the bus from luggage, cupboards(!), stoves, boxes and probably some live animals as well. That is all OK and expected in Peru, but the road was in such a very poor condition, on most places nothing more than a strip of dust a few meters wide on a cliff 3000 meters high. In the turnings we sometimes had to cross little pools of water and the bus wobbled so much that you could actually see the valley 3000 meters below you! My brave novio Roy took the window seat so I didnīt have to watch (and look for evidence of death bodies and buses in the abyss). But the Peruvian man sitting next to me on the other side didnīt help much by commenting in a very tranquil voice: "O yes, we are going to fall down now", as if he were saying Lima was the capital of Peru!

I tried to think I was being irrational and looked at the locals for their reaction, but they were literally holding their breath at some parts, which is quite scary and surreal in itself: an overcrowded Peruvian bus where nobody speaks a word. I imagine even the babies stopped crying!

I spent 3 hours telling myself the bus goes twice a day (so why would our bus fall down?) ; that only so many accidents a year happen ; that we would be having a beer in Ayacucho that night ; that the driver probably didnīt want to die either (although you can never be too sure about that one). I didnīt seem to want to listen much to myself ...

Nine years ago I would have probably looked down on people like me, being nervous over a bus ride? Now, I like to say I am just a lot īmore sensibleī than I was then....

Anyway, we survived, and spent a few days in beautiful Ayacucho, one of my favourite cities so far. And you never guess how we got to Cuzco from there?   Right, by plane! (The bus ride to Cuzco was supposed to be longer and even worse). 

And for my own defense: We werenīt the only ones. Only our travel companion Esther did take the bus, but eh, she is still young, I mean, insensible...

 

From Siebie on Jul 15th, 2007

Novio? Without a party for the family??? Tell me more...

From (o)ma Riet on Jul 16th, 2007

bustrip to Ayacucho seems to be more dangerous than a "bejaardenreis naar Benidorm". Although I still prefer the first one, feeling homesick for Ayacucho!