by Mark Green
“It’s a beautiful day.”
I waited for more, but that was all he was going to say. I felt a little disappointed, but then I remembered he was still hungover too.
“Would you describe it for me? Please,” I said, preparing myself to mentally sketch a picture as he spoke.
“Of course. Sorry, I’m a bit vacant this morning. We’re on a gravelly mountain road. The landscape is pretty barren, but green in places, if that makes sense. We’ve just passed a small town far below with a terrific little football pitch right in the middle of it. Now we’re losing sight of it as we descend through the mist. I can see endless fields, some with green coca crops, others partially harvested. I can see a father and son work their plough behind some sort of cow…”
“That sounds like hard work,” I said as I stared out of the window, drawing my own picture from Jonny’s vivid descriptions.
“In the distance everything looks more extreme; greener fields, higher mountains, deeper valleys with dense, lush forest. Mist lingers in patches, it looks slightly eerie, but more mysterious than scary, the promise of the unknown. It feels like we’re about to explore a new uncharted land for the first time...”
I felt myself smiling as his running commentary continued, despite feeling some sadness that I couldn’t see these wonderful things. But who was I to complain? It beat the socks off sitting at home listening to endless talking books and dreaming of faraway places. Here I was doing it for real.
“Occasionally we pass through a small village. The houses are earth clad, with timber and thatch roofs. There are lots of people in traditional dress, loose ponchos for the men and brightly coloured dresses for the women, blue, yellow and gold. The ladies are wearing tall top hats, like a London city gent circa the 1800s…”
“Jonny, can I ask you a serious question?”
His commentary stopped and there was silence for a moment.
“Of course,” he said, a little hesitantly.
“Did you bring your Superman outfit?”
I heard him laugh.
“I’m saving it for a special occasion.”
“Good, then we’re on level ground for the trek. Can’t have you surging ahead with your superpowers. You will stick with me, won’t you? On the trail I mean. I’m not worried about my fitness, but the walking might be difficult for me. You know, steep and slippery in places. I don’t want to be a pain in the arse, but I’m saying I’ll need your help even more than normal.”
* *
Me
I studied KT2’s eyes. What was it I sensed?
Vulnerability. I reached forwards and gently touched her arm.
“Hey, this is a joint effort. We both signed up to this when we met in the hotel lobby, remember?”
I watched her lips break into a lovely smile.
“You were looking for the fire escape.”
“I was a bit shocked. But I stuck around, didn’t I?”
“Why? Can’t be much fun for you.”
I took a deep breath as I pondered the question, but my train of thought was interrupted by Bob standing at the front of the coach, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Friends, good morning. I am Bob, your guide. Welcome to the magical four day trek to the unforgettable Machu Picchu. The first day we say is easy. The second, challenging. The third day is rewarding and the fourth, unique. Sixteen of you brave and adventurous souls have gathered together to enjoy this experience. So, who do we have with us and where are you all from?”
Bob looked at the front seat where I could just see the heads of a young couple.
“Matthew and Samantha, from England.”
Bob nodded and smiled at each person as he worked his way around the coach.
“Nudge me when it’s my turn,” KT2 whispered as the roll call got closer to our seats at the back of the coach.
“Okay, not long,” I whispered back, wondering if it might be easier for me to introduce us both. There was a pause and I glanced up to see Bob grinning at me.
“Jonathan and Kate, from England,” I said, a little flustered.
“Scotland for me! And my friends call me Angel,” KT2 called out, to the amusement of Bob and the others on board. They all looked round at the couple who didn’t really know each other. It wasn’t the best of starts to our integration into the group.
“Okay, good. Lots of different nationalities; English, French, Spanish, Australian and Scottish. Friends, we are going to have a great time. You will be looked after by a big group of porters, who are selected from two local villages. They all know each other and you will see their sense of fun on this trip. They work hard, but they’re able to provide a good standard of living for their families. I will introduce you to them later this evening….”
Bob carried on with his description of the discovery of Machu Picchu in 1911 and the unusual fact that the Inca civilisation wrote nothing down about its way of life. No hieroglyphics or diaries or writings of any kind describe their community. As I listened, it occurred to me that I should probably apologise to KT2.
“Sorry for stepping on your toes. It’s a bit like being back at school on the first day and having to stand up and say your name…”
“No it’s not. It’s a nice way to break the ice and welcome us all aboard. The sooner we get to know people the better. And by the way, I’m only half Scottish, but don’t let on, I have my pride!”
KT2 always seemed able to diffuse any social awkwardness with her relaxed nature and her ability to poke fun at herself. I sat back thinking that Kate Thornly the 1st would never have been this at ease at the start of such a trip. I allowed myself a grin as I realised I was here, living in the moment, whilst she was stuck back at home.
Silly cow.
Well-hung plumber or not, who was having more fun right now?
“You’re smiling,” said KT2.
“You can’t possibly know that,” I said indignantly.
“I heard your wrinkles creaking!”
I tickled her mercilessly, making her yelp, which soon turned into a wicked laugh. KT2 pushed my hands away - our fingers parted and I felt a tingling sensation. I felt my chest tighten and my stomach churn. I looked away, but then stole a sideways glance at her.
It can’t be that, I reasoned, confused as to what I might be starting to feel. My thoughts were cut short as the coach drew to a stop. I looked up and saw that we were in a small stony car park, jam packed with coaches from other tour companies. Everyone was busying themselves with unpacking their gear and preparing for the trek.
* *
KT2
I couldn’t see where we were of course, but I could hear the bustle and sense the excitement as we stepped out of the coach into the bright sunshine.
“Lots of people KT2, all sorting out their gear, buying waterproof ponchos and walking sticks from little Peruvian ladies in brightly coloured skirts. We’re in a valley. There’s a river running through it and I can just make out a steel rope bridge at the end of a track. On the opposite side of the bridge there’s a large sign marking the start of the Inca Trail. Around us are maybe five or six different travel companies. Our porters are loading up with amazing amounts of equipment. Think two dustbin size bundles of equipment strapped to their backs. Many of them are wearing just sandals or plimsolls on their feet…”
Jonny was doing a great job with his enthusiastic commentary, quite some progress compared to the start of our trip.
The air smelt fresh up here, but despite a few days spent acclimatising, the reduced oxygen still caught me out.
“This’ll do for a hangover cure Jonny,” I said, unable to stop smiling.
“Want some water?” he said, guiding a plastic bottle into my fingers. “Thank you.”
“No problem. You all set?”
“I mean thank you, for this experience. I’d never have thought I could ever be here, travelling like this.”
As he gently took the bottle off me I lunged forwards on impulse and wrapped my arms around
his neck and hugged him tightly. I felt the initial tension in his body subside, then I checked myself and released him, not sure that this was the time or the place.
“Put him down, you don’t know where he’s been,” said a cheerful voice I vaguely recognised from the introductions on the coach.
“I’m Barry, from Oz. But my girlfriend insists on calling me Bozzer. Something to do with your nation’s strange sense of humour. She’s a bit daft, but hey, she rolls a mean joint.”
“We all have some redeeming features,” said a girl’s voice, with the hint of a West Country accent.
“I’m Madge, short for Madeline, Bozzer’s long suffering bird.”
I grinned and offered my hand.
“I’m Angel to my mates, and I’m almost totally blind. Which obviously explains how I ended up with Jonny, who looks like the back of a bus. But I’m told he’s a man of action between the sheets, so I guess that’s his redeeming feature…”
I leant forwards and lowered my voice.
“…as yet untested…”
I gave an exaggerated wink and grinned at their laughter. I felt two different hands shake mine, then stood there waiting for Jonny to introduce himself.
“I’m Jonathan. And I’ll be returning Angel here to the loony bin after the trek. She doesn’t have any redeeming features, but she can drink anyone under the table, as I found out last night.”
We all chuckled, and prompted by a rallying call from Bob, we joined our group and the growing throng of travellers heading down to the start of the trail. Or, as it was to turn out for us, Inca Trial…
Sixteen
Me
It was one of those weird moments when you shudder and you can’t put your finger on the reason why. Something you can’t understand. A sort of subconscious warning that takes you back to that day.
“You’ve gone really tense Jonny. Someone walk across your grave?” said KT2, rousing me from my darkest thoughts.
I’d forgotten that day so easily, since you.
But of course I didn’t say that to her. How could I? Some skeletons were meant to stay under lock and key for eternity, especially when the rattling was still so fresh in the mind…
“Something like that. Maybe this place,” I said.
I was looking up at a tomb in the side of the mountain that Bob had just explained was part of the ancient Inca tradition. There were several entrances cut into the rock about a hundred metres above the stone path. Patches of mist lingered and the sun had just dipped below a cloud as a light drizzle descended. I shivered and looked away from the tomb.
“I can sense it too. The spirits are restless Jonny. But don’t worry, there’s no Kryptonite being mined in them there hills…”
I tickled her, making her jump and giggle, but I had to grab her arm to stop her tripping over on the uneven path.
“If you want to bump me off you could at least wait until the sacrificial altar stone!” she said, grinning as she tried to return the tickle.
“I would, but I don’t reckon offering you would appease the gods much, what with you being only half Scottish!”
* *
And that’s pretty much how the first day went.
Bob was right. It was fairly easy walking, the incline steady. Far below on the edge of the river, the tourist train between Cusco and Machu Picchu made easy work of the journey. But those day trippers were missing out on the real experience as they sped past unseen Inca forts and lookout points alongside the river. All of them perfectly constructed from stone blocks, all following natural contours of the land, in harmony with nature.
* *
We struck camp in the early afternoon on a gently sloping grass field tucked into the side of a mountain. It had fantastic views across the valley below.
The other travellers were the sort of like-minded people you’d expect to meet on an adventure holiday like this. Chilled out, hardy types. Some had well-paid jobs and were taking their annual leave, others were travelling for a much longer period on tighter budgets. But up here, two miles vertically from the sea, (a mind boggling thought) we were all on a level playing field. What we did for a living had no bearing on completing the trek, or the reasons we were all here.
We sat on the groundsheet and sipped the coca leaf tea that Bob had brought round to our tents.
I looked out over the valley and attempted to describe its magical beauty.
I couldn’t do it justice of course.
“It seems so, out of this world. The mountains are rugged, barren, like the moon. All the shrubs seem robust, not delicate like garden plants back home. Here they’re wiry and stout. I guess it’s not mist that swirls around the mountain peaks and lingers in the valleys at this altitude, it’s cloud...”
“Makes me feel lucky to be alive,” said KT2.
Coming from a blind girl, her words tugged at my heart strings. How did she stay so positive when she couldn’t see?
“It’s because you’re my eyes Jonny, in answer to the question you’re pondering over. Just think how difficult this would be for you to explain, and for me to understand, if I’d been born blind.”
I turned to stare at her, surprised to see tears trickling down her cheeks. I opened my mouth to ask if she was all right, but it didn’t seem appropriate. So I pulled a packet of Kleenex from my pocket and gently placed a tissue in her hand. She nodded her thanks and silently dabbed her eyes.
“When did you first know? If it’s okay to ask…” I said, wondering if I was pushing a bit too far, delving into her past without invitation.
“It’s okay. Perhaps we should both open up a bit.”
I wasn’t sure if this was a question or statement.
“Yes, of course. Superman can always use another friend. He doesn’t have many from this world…” I said.
She nodded, vacantly.
“I was nursing. I began making mistakes, misreading the chart, things like that. I was afraid to get my eyes tested. I knew it was a possibility, it was in the family. But I loved my job and never wanted to give it up, so I stuck my head in the sand, until it became clear I couldn’t go on.”
I offered KT2 a bottle of water and we sat there for several minutes. I looked out over the misty valley as the sun started to drift down towards the horizon.
“The day I left was awful. Work colleagues, some of them friends, were disappointed in me. I lost lots of mates that year…”
“Why? Wouldn’t they have done the same, if they were in your position? What about these surgeons who have hepatitis or HIV operating on people, there was a case a few months back…”
KT2 was shaking her head.
“I nearly killed a patient Jonny. I misread the medication. It was a close call. I got a massive bollocking and had to confess to the ward sister I was having problems. She arranged for me to get my eyes checked out and I was told my sight would keep deteriorating. And that was my nursing career finished.”
“But surely with all the knowledge you have there was still a chance of a job in nursing, at the end of a telephone for example…” I stopped as I noticed more tears streaming down her face.
“What is it?”
I wasn’t sure if I should reach out and hug her, offer some comfort. But I decided to air on the side of caution and just sat there awkwardly.
“I was unwell for a while, afterwards.”
She dropped her head forwards over her hunched up legs, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her fleece. I couldn’t watch her get more and more distressed. So I placed my arm over her shoulder and held her, feeling her lean into me, burying her head into my chest.
“That’s perfectly understandable…” I offered, but she just shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
In that pause where she might have said more, Bob appeared from behind the dining shelter, cupped his hands to his mouth and announced dinner was ready.
“Perfect timing” she said, lifting her head, hurriedly wiping the tears away.
Seventeen
Me
The camping set-up was like something out of the days of the Raj. When we’d arrived that afternoon all eight guest tents were already pitched and the porters were busy preparing the evening meal. Sixteen multi-national trekkers sat around a fold out table under a long narrow dining shelter. Everyone glanced around at each other, smiling politely, not sure exactly what to expect in the way of food. I think it’s fair to say we were all pleasantly surprised.
KT2 and I were sitting in the middle of the group. Bozzer and Madge were a couple of places along to our right. Next to them were two French Canadian girls who constantly switched between their mother tongue and English, so it was difficult to follow their conversation. Bob and his second in command, Julia, a Peruvian woman in her thirties, sat at the opposite end of the table, smiling enthusiastically as the food was passed around. I noticed that they both dropped small samples of each course of food on the floor — a thank you to the gods for the meal they were about to eat. Perhaps because I was becoming generally more aware, I realised that people were curious about KT2. Of course that curiosity had always been there, but I’d not noticed it as much before. I had to admire her for introducing herself unprompted.
“I’m Kate, but my friends call me Angel. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit clumsy at the table, I’m virtually blind. Next to me is Jonny, ” she said, in a conversational tone of voice, that was perfectly pitched not to draw unnecessary attention to herself, but clear enough to invite a response.
I guess not being able to hold eye contact, meant she didn’t know who might be interested in chatting to her. Brave girl, making the first move.
I did my bit by glancing around the table at several pairs of interested eyes, nodding a greeting as my smile was returned. I was secretly impressed that KT2 hadn’t gone for shock tactics in her introduction — perhaps that would come later…
“Hi Angel. I’m Susan. My boyfriend to your right is Rodney. Nice to meet you,” said the girl opposite, smiling at me for KT2’s benefit.