A few months ago, I was heading up towards Aguas Calientes in Peru to visit Macchu Piccu. I had to take a colectivo for something like 6 hours along dead scary dirt road (the emphasis on dead) that wound along the sides of mountains above sheer drops. When we got to Hydroelectrica, I wanted to check that I had understood the bus driver correctly so I asked a couple I thought spoke English. They confirmed that this was the end of the road. We signed the register to visit Macchu Piccu and then walked miles along a railway track in the afternoon heat to get to the village of Aguas Calientes. A huge storm was brewing and about an hour away from our destination, it POURED down on us. I was soaked through my raincoat in minutes and soon became cold. I continued chatting away to the couple but lost them as I went in search of a cheap hostel. The next day, I woke up at 4am to climb Macchu Piccu and, at several points during the following days, I ran into the couple again. Each time we said goodbye, I assumed that I would probably never hear from them again. But here I am, several months later, visiting them in Barcelona and catching boss views like this one.
Their names are Nuria and Fraser and I’ve no doubt that I’ll be seeing these beautiful people again.