Nascida e criada em Portugal. Já morei na Polónia, no Brasil, na República Checa e agora é a Suécia que me acolhe.
O meu blogue, tal como o meu cérebro, é uma mistura de línguas. Bem vindos!

Born and raised Portuguese. I have lived in Poland, Brazil, Czech Republic and now I'm in the beautiful Sweden.
My blog, just like my brain, is a blend of languages. Welcome!

quarta-feira, 17 de agosto de 2016

Stories of my world #6

He is a remarkable man. One of those people full of good stories to tell. He was our guide in the hike to Machu Picchu, in Peru. He had the steady pace of a person who has done the walk uncountable times. He had the calm look in his eyes of someone who knows the place like only locals can. Somehow, you could read wisdom in his eyes, although he was not much older than us. He taught us a lot about the mountains, fauna and flora, history and Peru itself. He played his flute for us to hear from afar, while we were walking. The magical music helped those who were tired and were making an effort up the mountain in the high altitude. He is a man of the mountains. A proud Peruvian. Proud of his land. Proud of his history. Proud of his job, in one of the best offices in the world, the mountain itself. At the same time he was very humble. He listened to our stories as well. He was thirsty for more knowledge, always questioning us about our own lands and our own lives. I remember very well us talking in the dinner tent around the empty table. Darkness filled the atmosphere and we would talk under a gloomy light, which somehow made everything more magical. He told us he also liked to travel but not just anywhere. He enjoyed visiting countries where nature was predominant. He visited New Zealand and Canada. He dreamed of visiting any country in Africa and some in the north of Europe.
We spent four days together and we shared so many things that it was hard to say goodbye. We were like family. Although, we all knew that after these four days he would move on and get another group. Maybe another family. Who knows. Of course, deep inside, we hoped we were the special ones. The ones he will remember the most. Maybe all groups hope the same. We exchanged contacts and we still write to each other from time to time. He had a knee injury and stopped taking groups up the mountain. We always told him we will be back one day. We do hope he can be our guide again and we hope even more that we can meet him again. We want to hear his new stories. Or maybe just the same old ones. But we want to talk with him. The special guide. The one we will remember forever. We want to meet Chris Condori and his flute again.

4 comentários:

Adorava saber das vossas voltas. Escrevam!
I would love to hear more about you. Feel free to comment!