My last call to a friend before heading back to meet beardy Nick, was that we would be back in Chachapoyas in two weeks. The police where I left the car were also informed that I would be collecting it in two weeks. Nick and I got back in two weeks,… just, but it was two weeks.
Back in Chachapoyas our first thought was food and big plates of it. Anything that didn’t involve rice or porridge. Switching on my cell phone I realized there were other things to do first. Call people.
There were three messages from one very good Peruvian friend and the worry in his voice was so obvious. I called him to let him know we were okay. Another friends wife broke into tears on hearing me speak. It was apparfent that they really had thought we had had an accident and would never be seen again.
Talk about guilt, yet it was a miscommunication. I would never want to be in the situation my friends found themselves. On hearing that we were alive I could hear the joy and at the same time they wanted to hit me…. that would have been okay with me.
So why write this nearly three months later. It came into a conversation yesterday, people still talk about me and Nick being lost in the mountains.