A Prayer to Murphy, the Patron Saint of All Going Wrong that Can.

Oh Murphy who art in textbooks and all kinds of blogs, cursed be thy name,
I know your laws dictate that everything that can go wrong will, but this prayer is to ask for reprieve. When our flight to Madrid was canceled last minute due to strikes, our courage didn't waver. We booked new ones (at an astronomical price,) and crossed our fingers they would leave in time for us to make our hotel in Madrid and the next day, our flights to South America. When that flight was delayed and added a stop over in Milan, we thanked you for the opportunity to run like dogs in order to be able to catch our connecting flight to Madrid by the skin of our teeth. When we made it and checked into our hotel, we thought that the divine interventions we were granted from you had ceased. We bunkered down for the night and woke up to a wonderful room service breakfast and turned on the telly (as one is wont to do when eating breakfast in bed.) Nicolas and I spoke of our excitement to take off to Peru in a few hours and land in Cusco. It was then you reminded us of your omniscience and presence in all things variable. As if it were your own voice, Anderson Cooper personified you Saint Murphy and told us that Cusco had recently flooded. 25 houses had been destroyed by unusual, heavy rainfall that had caused flooding in Cusco and other parts of the region. This didn't dissuade us from going and if this was your intention, oh holy saint, you should have opted for an earthquake but perhaps this was beyond your power. After all, if it CAN go wrong, it will states your law. If the tectonic plates are not ready to shift, you'd have to send a quick text over to your boss, God, or Mother Nature or whomever you report to in order to give the plates a little nudge before you could work your magic on them. You did do a good job however when I learned that on our flight from Madrid to Bogota (first lay over) we would be adding another stop in Cali for technical reasons making what was 20 hours of travel now a nice round 24. But dearest Saint Murphy who is normally so undiscriminating with his catastrophes and inconveniences, I can't help but feel that you are taking the piss just a little bit when you manage to get us placed dead in the middle of four babies who (of course) screamed the whole way from Madrid to Bogota. 10 solid hours. At least we had it in stereo as not to wear one ear more than the other. We are now in the airport at Lima awaiting our last plane to Cusco. It is 10:00 am Paris time and 3:00 am Peru time. We are exhausted. Your constant cameos along the lengths of our journey have made us feel blessed by knowing your presence, but GIVE US A BREAK! We have to wait in the airport until 5:10 am when our last flight boards and I'm going to try to get a bit of sleep on a chair in the airport lounge. As I mentioned at the beginning of this prayer, a bit of reprieve would be welcome, so don't send us any robbers to come and grab our stuff, don't delay our last plane, or see that it's cancelled. No more strikes, no more floods and no more rude stewardesses that say “Ju didn't order begetarian meal. I have no record of dat okay?” In the name of travelers everywhere, Amen.

Even after I offered up this prayer, Murphy continued to pester us. One lost credit card later, we finally had the reprieve we so desperately wanted. We arrived in Cusco and checked into a hostel with an amazing view and made the necessary plans to visit the Machu Picchu the next day. We booked a two day adventure that was simply spectacular. Although the unplanned last minute flight that we had to book basically ruined us financially, we HAD to do the Machu Picchu. We hadn't come all that way not to. We didn't regret it and it was truly breathtaking. There's photos on FB.

After Cusco, we took a bus to Puno where we stayed a night and from there, our bus to La Paz in Bolivia where we stopped an hour at the Lake Titicaca and actually had to cross a bit of it by boat to get to La Paz. Border control was something peculiar as it consisted of stopping at what could have easily been a truck stop as opposed to a border crossing, presenting our passports to a guy sitting in just some random chair behind a desk that looked like it had been purchased at the Salvation Army. His official border controller uniform? A beat up, old Abercrombie and Fitch hoodie and a pair of jeans. His reaction when he saw my passport was that of all the people that have seen my passport here so far. “Hey! Canada! Yes!”
Okay, I thought. I guess it's better to be well liked than the contrary as the woman behind me was American and the sight of her passport invoked a sneer from the hooded government worker. Anyway, we walked out of Peru and into Bolivia where things became even less expensive than they were in Peru. This was good news for us. For both of us to eat in a restaurant that is not too touristy, but still looks trustworthy was 100 Bolivianos. 10 Euros. We had a cocktail, a starter, a main dish and a desert for 5 euros each. Unreal.
It's 8 o'clock in the morning here now on our second day in Bolivia and the holiday part of our adventure is quickly coming to a close. We have one or two more days in La Paz before we take the seven hour bus ride to Cochabamba where we will be picked up by a couple who works in the orphanage. We will then be nine to fivers for the next long while. Will update all readers (that makes it sound like we have a lot,) on our new “jobs” as soon as possible. We miss all of you and hope to recount many more adventures in posts to come!