this year.

‘All Good Things Must Come To An End’ is not just an episode of Star Trek, but the turth when trips near completion.

My time in Peru has been spectacular, enlightening, sad, depressing, and memorable. Last nights Christmas dinner was amazing. 140 people, 12 turkeys, all the trimmings, groups of tables randomly breaking into Christmas carols, The Beatles tunes, Oasis, Radiohead, Bryan Adams, Don McLean etc. The night before was depressing, as I walked through the main plaza after enjoying a lovely Alpaca steak I had to negotiate a maze of bodies, intertwined amungst each other, trying to sleep, and avoid the falling rain. These were the villagers that had come down on the night of December 23rd to set up for the huge market on December 24th. Hands upheld, trying to guilt and steal any money from you that they can. But, alas, you can’t give money to all of them, as much as you feel you should. As we drank and danced the night away, a walk out to the clubs terrance reveals a plaza of filth, garbage, children, and fire. With the firecrackers going off people described it as a tame Baghdad.

(Note to readers who know: I busted out The Shitko at the club. It goes over in Cusco as it does in Waterloo — which means well.)

I sit now in Lima, arriving a day before I depart for Canada, to ensure I made it back to the city. I feel in limbo, a state of pergatory. Nothing to really do but wait for the final taxi to the airport.

See you for New Years Canada.

All good things must come to an end.