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I know I’ve left many of you on the edge of your seats
wondering: What happened to Fred, and did those toxic meds fix what ailed me?!? Well, so as not to draw out the suspense, I do believe Fred is gone
and my system seems to be back in regular working order. The altitude of Peru
leaves me a bit shaky every morning and the new fauna and flora are surely
getting adjusted. But in all I think whatever had its grip on me has left. For
now. But I’m getting ahead of myself…
When we left you all, Aiden and I were learning to navigate
Puerto Escondido, a town I may have judged too harshly at the outset. I
realized by the end of our stay that as with any new town, it takes time to get
a lay of the land and to become familiar. And without familiarity of any new
place it’s hard to feel content and comfortable. So the longer we stayed in
Puerto Escondido, the more lovely it became. With the help of many long time
Canadian expats, we learned the best beaches and the best meals to order at
which restaurant, where there was internet, and who had the best Oaxacan hot
chocolate. And how easy it was to walk in our nearby surroundings to access
whatever we needed. Suddenly an unfamiliar location, like any and all new
places where we land -- became homey.
It’s a good reminder for me for those days entering new locales when the
frustration heightens and there’s an urge to jump on yet another plane and retreat
to something more familiar. So by the end of our stay Puerto Escondido was
wonderful, and we’ll likely return.
From Puerto Escondido we returned to San Miguel de Allende
in preparation for a visit to the Butterfly sanctuary, an experience I had been
waiting for for years. Literally years. We went by van down past Mexico City and
through several so called Magic Pueblos, beautiful small towns deemed by the
government to be worthy of funding, preserving and thus visiting as a tourist.
Apparently there are dozens of these villages, and from my experience of a few
of them, I’d say all of them would be worth a visit!
I’m not sure I
understood just how much my body longed to be in nature but walking from the
concrete and exhaust-filled streets of San Miguel into the soft forest, overflowing
with yellow Monarch butterflies, filled me with a euphoria I hadn’t experienced
in a long time. It was magical beyond words. Butterflies performed their dance
all around us, filling the sky with orange flakes and leaving us giddy, a state
of pure joy. A biopreserve called El Chalula was our first visit and by chance
we were the only ones on the long winding forest trail. The next day at a
separate preserve called El Rosario, it was a different experience: crowded
walkways, with little walking at all. But the presence of so many Butterflies
still made us feel as if we were walking into a different, light-filled and
magical world. There aren’t enough words to describe how wonderful the
experience, so I’ll just stop there and hope that anyone interested gets to
experience this annual migration.
At the end of February we flew to Lima, Peru, a cultural stop
I felt we should make before heading further inland to visit my dear childhood
friend Sunday near Cusco. It was poor judgment, to be sure, as Lima is an
enormous, dirty and hot city for which we had little patience. Luckily I had
chosen a hotel in the Miraflores district, by far the nicest (and most
expensive) part of Lima. Its cliffside, grassy park extends for miles, with
climbing trees, green grass, quaint cafes and even a parachute lift off area
where Aiden was able to entertain his daredevil self. It took me a good while to
reconcile the idea I’d be sending my son over a cliff in a piece of flimsy
parachute fabric, but seeing a shot of his enormous smiling face, followed by a
dose of his growing confidence, made it worth the few years of my life I surely
hacked off! Just an addition to my ever-growing challenge of letting go, and
his efforts of spreading his wings wide.
Unfortunately, the heat left us uninspired to check out some
of the other attractions in Lima, like the pre-Colombian museum, whose quasi
pornographic artworks I had heard much about. Nor did we visit the old town
Cathedral. Perhaps when we next pass through on our way to Ecuador.
Flying into Cusco, a town nestled among mountains as
dramatic as they were welcoming, was almost as special as the Butterfly
sanctuary. It was another reminder of my need for nature and expansiveness. My
friend Sunday picked us up at the airport – always a gift if you have such a
friend! -- and took us to her yoga farm an hour away in the Sacred Valley. If I
thought Cusco was surrounded by welcoming mountains, those surrounding her
property positively embraced us. The scene was right out of the postcard rack,
with fresh mountain air and misty clouds overhead. It felt like the drama of
nature was everything I needed to wash my mind of the US and all the toxic,
negative antics going on there. Plus there’s no internet, so that helps a lot.
Cusco sits at eleven thousand feet above sea level, so it
took some time to adjust. But it was a great excuse to hang out, find some good
books and take in the scenery. Favorite book? Turn Right at Machu Picchu by
Mark Adams, a fabulous travel/historical journal the likes of which I aspire to
write one day!
Next up is a view of our trip to the hot springs but I’m
still simmering in the images of vistas it took to get there. In the meantime, some more shots from Puerto Escondido and now Peru...
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