IV.II.VI – Viva La Vida
IV.II.VI
VIVA LA VIDA
Seasoned and wizened by my days as a nomad, I was ready to embark on the second leg of the journey. Yeah yeah, I know – it had only been a week and a half in Peru and the trek had been done by millions before me. But it was still a big deal to me okay? Now on to the next part; a bus tour along the south of Peru!
Whilst I’m not usually a fan of bus tours, I had to compromise my morals and opt for this option – the only way I could see as many things as possible in such limited time. In hindsight, it was definitely a wise choice! In fact, I’m not gonna mention every single thing I saw on that tour. Like the artificial floating islands of Uros on Lake Titicaca, formed by bundles of Totora reed harvested by the Uru people. Or the incredibly beautiful White City of Arequipa, renowned for its… well, white buildings made from the white volcanic rock sillar. Boasting a gigantic Basilica and three volcanoes dominating the city’s skyline; Misti, Pichu Pichu and Chachani, Arequipa is known as the legal capital of Peru as it is the seat of the constitutional court.
Also an honourable mention… the cryptic and enigmatic geolyphs; the ancient Nazca Lines! Hundreds of geometric shapes of which I’ve only witnessed a couple; the Hand and the Tree. Yup, very unlike me to not have done exhausted my to see list but logistics didn’t allow it… Oh and the Ballestas islands near Paracas; a haven for marine fauna where we got to observe seals and penguins – penguins! And Lima… Did I mention Lima? The beautiful capital of Peru! Oh would you look at that, I did end up mentioning most of what I saw.
As cool as all those places were, none of them hold a candle to the highlight of the tour – at least speaking for myself. And that’s none other than Huacachina; a village built around the middle of an honest to god… wait for it… oasis!
I’m talking a lagoon surrounded by palm trees and sand dunes kinda oasis here; like the ones they show in animated movies which you never really think actually exist. At least that’s what I used to think anyways. Who the hell would’ve ever thought I’d end up in the middle of an oasis! Aaaaand I spent my one and only night there partying. Yep, that’s right. Partying. In the middle of an oasis. I’m sorry, I know I’m turning what’s probably a horrible read into an intolerable one, but I still can’t get over it. We partied at our hostel until the wee hours of the night; and boy did we party. Oh to go back to that night…
Not the following morning though. Man do I not want to relive such a dreadful hangover. I’m not talking a ‘bells ringing in your head’ kinda headache. I’m talking ‘Cersei exploding the entire frigging sept in your head’ kinda headache. So of course, as any sane person would do to rid themselves of such an affliction, I decided to climb the sand dunes surrounding the village. Right on. And why should we not make it a little bit more challenging, huh? I also forgot to fill up my water flask before I left. Right on! I decided to practically cross a desert (slight exaggeration) with only a hangover and a parched system in my inventory.
You know… Sometimes I wonder how I’ve managed to get this far in life. No wonder I thought I was hallucinating when I saw blue-eyed pigeons. Turns out, they very much exist and they’re called West Peruvian doves. Didn’t get to see the usual desert stuff; you know, like cacti or tumbleweed or scorpions or that random cow skull they always show in the movies. Come to think of it… Where do they come from? And why are they a staple in such scenes? And why cows? Anyways, just sand and blue-eyed doves.
As difficult and daunting as it is to walk on sand, quite surprisingly, especially in my weakened and feeble state, I managed to circle the entire oasis in less than two hours, just in time for the day’s planned activities. I’d be riding a dune buggy and then do sandboarding down the dunes. Cool, right?
I could’ve just written that I partied and climbed sand dunes in the middle of an oasis and then went sandboarding. I could’ve – but to me, it was more than that. That day was the second anniversary of my father’s death. And I had completely forgotten about it. On most days I’d think of my dad in passing, just a fleeting thought or a random memory. On some I’d even forget he had ever been part of my life. It wasn’t lack of love or that I didn’t appreciate him, it was just life moving on too quickly. As did the dune buggies, and that’s what reminded me of him. Exhilarating doesn’t even come close to describing the thrill of cruising over the sea of sand dunes at lightspeed, not knowing whether you’ll manage to stick a landing or end up part of those same dunes yourself. I’d describe the feeling as something akin to a rollercoaster ride sans the railing keeping you safe. Simply exhilarating!
So, there I was, in the middle of the desert; on a literal high, feeling more alive than ever, feeling the sheer joy of it all. I felt immeasurably lucky to be able to experience such a thing, such a feeling. Not lucky, but grateful. Grateful to anyone or anything who had made it possible for me to be there. Maybe Yahweh or Vishnu or Inti or Zeus or Ra or Arceus or whoever. And dad. Without him I wouldn’t have been there. It wasn’t just his money that made all of this possible. It was also that feeling of wanting out right after his death. It was the push I needed to start doing things for myself; things that made me happy. It started out with Colombia and now there I was, in the middle of an oasis surfing over sand dunes. So, so grateful!
Also guilty. I felt guilty for feeling so happy, so, so alive, when he was so, so dead. He had to die for me to feel this way. It felt all too unfair. Exhilaration and despair merged into one. To quote Charlie, in that moment, I swear I was infinite. With tears streaming down my face I swear I could feel the entirety of the human experience all at one go. I was simply infinite. So ecstatic, so miserable at the same time. A bittersweet symphony of emotions. For which I have my dad to thank. Thank you, dad.