Traveling Applejax

Mike and I have been together 24/7 for about 10 months now. Perhaps this has addled our brains a bit. Oftentimes we were the only gringos we saw for weeks, though lately we’ve been in some heavily touristed areas. Unfortunately, we’ve forgotten how to act around other people. At Machu Picchu, Mike was so thrilled to be around other English-speaking gringos that he had to take everyone’s photo and interview them extensively.

These are the stories of the unfortunate souls we accosted at Machu Picchu.

Ellen, from Sweden, is traveling alone throughout South America. She’s a fashionista and has collected “at least 14 scarves so far.” She claims that vicuña wool is of far superior quality, though alpaca and llama scarves are more practical.

Yves and Sophie, like most French Canadians we’ve met, refuse to speak English. Mike and I each remember a little French, however, so we tried to chat them up anyhow. They let Mike take a photo, but then we got into a huge argument because they claimed we were butchering their precious language.

Miguel is a tour guide with a company called Piggyback Porters. Apparently, each tourist has the services of 3 porters at their disposal, and the porters trade off the task of piggybacking the tourist. Each tourist is given a souvenir whip with which to “encourage” their porter to go faster.

Sheryl, from Kentucky, decided to engage us in a political discussion when she learned that we are from the States as well. She believes that Bush is doing a “swell job of keeping us safe from them terrists,” and that “that Muslim ‘Bama and that bitch Hillary oughta just quit already.” We were sorry when she accidentaly tripped over our bag and got grass stains all over her pants.

The “Cantakerous Chico,” from “a world of pain,” ran around Machu Picchu threatening old tourists and hurling ancient Inca stones until 4 security guards caught up with him and threw him bodily out the entrance.

Eugene, from Argentina, insisted that the cuy (guinea pig) at the Paradilla in Cusco is “divine,” and commented that the indigenous women of Peru “simply don’t know how to dress to flater their figures.”

Though Jan, from Norway, looks thrilled to be on top of the Inca world, he must have been harboring some dark and disturbing thoughts. Minutes later he lept to the bottom of the canyon, shocking everyone meandering nearby.

A typical American, George had a few too many Big Macs back home before deciding to visit Machu Picchu. Nevertheless, I admire his gumption — he huffed and puffed all the way up to the top of Wayna Picchu and only took twice as long as Mike and I to get there.

Mike wasn’t the only person at Machu Picchu with a 12″-long….lens. Jean-Pierre from France was snap-happy as well. The two of them spent a bit of time comparing equipment.

All day I searched in vain for some trashy whore wearing high heels to climb over the rocky steps at Machu Picchu. Sadly, the closest things I saw to 3″ heels were Sandra’s Chacos. I own a pair of these sandals, and while I’m sure that boots are better for exploring the ruins, they hardly constitue a grievous error on her part.

This group of new-age weirdos is getting power from the rock in front of them. Their guide was a total hippy, and they all bought into his crap. One woman even aimed her ass towards the rock in hopes of healing her sore buttocks.

Okay, so we didn’t actually talk to this shemale, but Mike nicknamed him/her Pat and followed him/her around for a short while.

This lady didn’t speak any English. If she had, we would have told her that Machu Picchu, thankfully, isn’t plagued with smog…yet.

Shortly after snapping this photo, Jim woke up disoriented. After a few seconds he began to panic, and we discovered that he had missed his $50 train ride back to Cuzco. Oops!

I thought these sisters from Canada were kinda cute at first. A few minutes later, however, the red-faced one swatted me for accidentally getting in the way of her llama photo.

Okay. The End