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The next day I woke up to the sun shining through my window. For breakfast the hostel served bread and jam with scrambled eggs and coca de mate. It was a fair breakfast. A young woman from Northern California joined me. Her name was Mimi and we spoke a bit about Peru and trekking into Machu Picchu.

After breakfast I went into the office to make some travel arrangements. A British ex-pat named Simon was at the desk. He helped me arrange a San Pedro healing for the following day. After that I would take a train to Agua Calientes and spend the night there. I would get up very early in the morning and hike into Machu Picchu where I would meet up with a guided tour. I would spend the morning exploring before catching a train at four which would bring me back to Cusco. I would spend my final night at Casa de la Gringa and then catch an afternoon flight back to Lima.

It was a little sad for me to have the rest of my trip planned out. I had done pretty well so far in avoiding planning too far in advance and allowing things to evolve spontaneously, and now I was back on a schedule. I had a week left in Peru, but suddenly I could feel the end of my trip approaching.

While I was sitting in the office, chatting with Simon a very pretty and disheveled looking young woman arrived at the door. She explained, in English with a Czech accent, that she was trying to find her friend Martina who she believed was staying at the hostel. Apparently, the two had meant to meet here, but as there were two Casa de la Gringas in Cusco and she had gone to the wrong one. Simon told her that her friend was here and that she could leave a note for her friend. This seemed to calm her a little. She left a note and went on her way. Simon and I exchanged a glance after she had left.

I then went to get cash to pay for my trip to Machu Picchu. It would cost me $250 US and included my transportation, a hotel, my ticket and guide to the site, and a couple meals. This was a very expensive price by Peruvian standards, but these were tourist prices.

After finding an ATM that would accept my card, I returned to the hostel and paid for my trip. I then sat down at the hostel’s computer and spent some time online. While I was blogging, the distraught young woman returned, looking for her friend who had not yet returned. She seemed to have a little better handle on things now, and she and I chatted for a bit. She then asked if I wanted to have lunch.

Her name was Misa, and as we walked over to the Plaza San Bles she told me a little bit about herself. She was a Czech living in London and working in commercial real estate appraisal. We stopped at Caverne del Orient–a vegetarian restaurant tucked into the corner of the plaza. They offered an excellent four-course menu for 10 sols. Conversation came easy as we sat outside in the sun enjoying our lunch.

After lunch we walked down to the market together, talking and site-seeing along the way. We spoke about our lives and our travels. She had a beautiful smile that came easily and twinkle in her eye. She was easy to be around in the ways that people who are very comfortable with who they are can be. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was a bit smitten.

When we returned to the hostel, Misa went to find Martina–whom she still had not connected with–while I struck up a conversation with a Californian named Kevin, who was on an extended trip though South America. Misa reported that she had found her friend and they were going out to dinner. I unabashedly invited myself along. Misa scurried off to get ready, and I spoke with Simon about my travel arrangements and booked a paragliding trip into the sacred valley. I had seen it advertised in some of the hostel’s literature and it sounded like an adventure. Then I went to meet Misa and Martina for dinner.

Misa and Martina shared a room across the street from where I was staying in Casa de la Gringa’s annex. Martina was a pretty young woman from Sweden who had actually only just met Misa the day before in Titicaca. Neither Martina or I had enough warm clothing. So we decided to go do some shopping. Fortunately for us, the region is known for its fine woven alpaca wool products. And it wasn’t long until both Martina and I had found nice warm sweaters in one of the nearby shops. The sweaters cost us 40 sols a piece.

Now that we were appropriately outfitted for the cool mountain twilight we returned to San Bles for dinner. A place called Km0 advertised Tai food and live music, both of which sounded good to the group, so we went in. As we were having dinner Kevin, the Californian from the hostel, came in joined us.

It was a lighthearted foursome. We shared stories and Martina told us about her experience earlier that day going to meet a little girl she had been sponsoring from home. It was a wonderful story. The whole village had welcomed her and the girl’s family had received her as an honored guest. I felt very lucky to be sitting there enjoying such a nice meal, in such a beautiful place, with such good company. A reggae band came on and played a great set of familiar music.

We returned to the hostel. Kevin went to bed and I sat up drinking tea with Misa and Martina. After talking for awhile Martina excused herself to go to bed. Misa and I sat talking for awhile. As it began to get late she rose to leave. I stood up as well, close to her and told her, “You don’t have to go,” and I kissed her. She was reluctant, but she kissed me back.

She looked me in the eye, “I have to go.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I’m not that kind of girl.” We kissed again, but she pulled back again, “I don’t have sex with someone I just met.”

I leaned in and kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back, but I could feel the ambivalence in her. There was a push and pull that I could feel in her body. A desire and a reserve. I didn’t want to pressure her, but I didn’t want her to leave either. I felt no ambivalence.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked.

This broke the tension. It was a way that we could continue to spend time together without pressure. She immediately agreed. We walked out into the cool Cusco night.

Cusco is a beautiful and romantic city in the dark. The city lights climb up the surrounding mountains in tendrils that follow the valleys. The narrow streets are lit with a soft yellow light that brings out the shadows and textures of the Incan stonework. There is very little traffic so it is very quiet.

We huddled together against the chill of the night and walked uphill where we found a small park with a few thin Cedar trees and a fantastic view of the city. We stood there for a long time. Misa was warm and soft in my arms. Her reserve had dissolved into the thin mountain air. She ran her hands across my back and pulled me close, pressing her body against me. We kissed deeply and passionately, our bodies tuned and responsive to each other. We lost ourselves in the moment, in the beauty of the night, and in the passion and lust we felt for each other.

After a long kiss we started walking again. The path was narrow with high walls that occasionally opened to expansive views of the city. We stopped here and there kissing and talking in hushed tones. Eventually we made our way back to the hostel and said goodnight. She asked if she should wait till I got in. She had a key to the annex, but I had to knock and be let in by hostel staff. It was fortunate that she waited because despite my pounding at the door I could not manage to arouse anyone to open the door for me. It seemed that the night watch was asleep on the job.

She checked with Martina and invited me to spend the night with her. “But we have to be respectful,” she smiled.

That was fine with me. I was legitimately tired and wanting to sleep after a long day. we climbed into bed. I lay for a while thinking when suddenly Martina’s voice awoke me, “Eddy, stop snoring!”

I hadn’t even realized I was asleep. I apologized and rolled over, glad that she had awakened me rather than letting my snoring intrude on her rest.