It was a lush day, but by what I thought was the end of it, I was at the point where I really thought I couldn't walk any more. I’d just spotted the flat ridge that leads to our lodgings, when suddenly we heard music and drum beats. Tim was insisting the drums were coming from right on the top of the mountain that we were supposed to walk past on the flat ridge to get home. He headed straight for it. At first I told him I couldn't go. There was no way I was going to make it up that mountain. We were at nearly 4000 meters. My legs were jelly and it was at least another 100m or so up – that might not sound like much, but when you’ve been walking for hours on end at that altitude even a couple of paces can seem impossible.
Tim looked really pained, but I convinced him to go on without me. In the end I somehow forced myself up there. I knew it was going to hurt, but it was Tim’s birthday and there was no way I was going to spoil such a fantastic day for him. I was gasping for breath and starting to feel a bit like I did back in Colca Canyon, but I made it somehow. I figured that if I could get through that last hour of that Colca Canyon ascent, I could get through anything. I knew I was going to be rewarded when I got up there too, so I focused on the sound of the drums getting louder and louder and tried to ignore my lungs that were threatening to explode on me.
Once at the top I stood panting watching Tim getting his birthday present Bolivia style. There was this mad festival going on. All the locals were dressed in traditional clothing and wore hats and long garlands made from fruits, onions and potatoes. There were drums playing and they were dancing in file as the sun set. They didn't seem to mind us being there at all – to be honest I think they were all way too pissed to care. There was a local looking man dressed in normal clothing watching the proceedings. I asked him what was going on. They were celebrating the first potato plantation of the season, offering their dances to the Gods so that they would get a good crop. Yup, this is 2004, yup this is a world where capitalism rules, money talks and few believe in a real God. Yup, this is really happening in front of my eyes and I am not watching The Discovery Channel. It occurred to me just how far I was from London, from television, from wondering whether anyone really would ever bomb or gas the tube. I am absolutely certain that the people here would have no idea that September 11 ever happened at all. Why should they?
We watched the pairs of men and women twirling round in circles as they moved around the mountain top for as long as we could bare the cold then, as night fell, we wandered back down. We ate at our lodge. The owner had cooked a massive fish dinner especially for us and had somehow got hold of a bottle of very nice Chilean red wine. Trust me, when you haven’t had a decent glass of wine for as long as I hadn’t you do not care that you are drinking red with fish. She handed us back the washing we had asked her to do. She explained that she had actually brought it all the way down to the port by donkey and hand washed it all in the lake. I remembered waving to her that morning as she set off down the steps with her donkey. (the only accommodation available on the island is right at the top of 250 Inca steps) I felt so stupid. How could I ever have thought that they would have had a washing machine? To be honest, I didn’t even think that…I just didn’t think. I hope she didn’t mind. I’m going to leave her a massive tip. A birthday with a difference indeed.
When we were leaving the island trudging back down the never ending Inca steps we met a lovely Dutch couple - Grijs and Leanne. Leanne is 5 months pregnant. It wasn't planned. They found out just before they were due to start a 6 month trip round South America. They decided to cut the trip down to 3 months and go anyway. Good on her! It's great, she gets to go backpacking and not carry any bags. We’re hoping to meet up with them again in La Paz.
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