I am finally on my way to Machu Picchu. I met the group at Miami Airport, where we boarded our plane for Lima. There was only one other Canadian, Johanne. Our tour guide, Anna, is Brazilian but speaks excellent Spanish. One young woman, Valerie, also speaks Spanish. There are ten of us, one man and nine other women.
I’m beginning to feel out of place with these Americans. Most of them are practically shamans and work with crystals, while I’m just a simple secretary going through some very heavy stuff.
Oct. 22, 1999 (travel diary)