I open my eyes ... it's cold, I am virtually sealed inside a sleeping bag -18 ° C. .. and yet I feel cold ugualmente.Il my fellow tent, and large movements, still asleep. Gather enough clothes left in a sleeping bag to ensure it stays hot. Me
them slip.
I open the curtain.
feel the cold and the air comes through the first open slot.
cooks and horsemen are awake for a while to prepare breakfast.
front of me a gift of nature gives me a good morning.
The Apu in his own way, tells me that I was right not to listen to the doctor and my back, because I'd lost it all.
horses still asleep.
As background the mountain Ausangate in its grandeur.
The silence of the valley, broken only by a few words in Quechua exchanged by the horsemen. The first
The silence of the valley, broken only by a few words in Quechua exchanged by the horsemen. The first
buenas dias me by Santiago, the leader of the horsemen.
I say thanks to this beautiful country for the emotions you gave me.
I say thanks to fellow passengers because they were essential and integral part to make every single moment.
In this last day of trekking, I wanted to raise a little the first to review in mind the time spent in these mountains that for years I dreamed of.
People encountered, animals hunted, changing colors at a rapid passage of the clouds.
greetings of passers-by, children running to be able to greet, seems to receive some gift, to be photographed.
thousand faces, a thousand voices, one word: Hola!
A ball led to 4800 m in order to unite people with different cultures and especially language.
A child who cries because there we are going.
During the return trip to Cusco, travel long enough, take this opportunity to rethink some pictures of the six days of trekking. The departure from Tinqui during the market day. colored fabrics, fruta, vegetables, people schiamazzanti.I trails of the mountains over populated Tinqui by people from other countries to buy or trade goods from these mercato.Tra a guy on a bike walking with a bottle top with shoulder gas.Tutti many years a radio 80, which spits out a scratchy music andina.Ricordo the woman in the middle of nowhere, sentitasi objectives to be observed by paparazzo, has dedicated a ballet with lots of twists and turns.
Well but how can I convey emotion with words? Grnde I'm not a writer nor a photographer, but a picture can help. Better than images.
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