My belly is full of quinoa, avocado and ceviche. My body is covered with bone necklaces and alpaca wool. My feet live in a new pair of custom made boots and my nose is burned from the Andean sun. My head remembers Incan ruins and Swiss friends, my wallet remembers “AMIGO, AMIGO.” My pack is jammed with gifts for loved ones and my journal is still in the plastic wrap. My ass hurts from the saddle of Apu and my lungs can now breath a bit easier.
To quote Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia, “I haven’t got any special religion this morning. My God is the God of Walkers. If you walk hard enough, you probably don’t need any other God.”
It’s never nice to be back from vacation, but the sun is a shining and that’s okay by me.