Allow me to introduce my excellent trekking buddies and the crew that prepared our food, set up our tents, cleaned up after us and, yes, disposed of our, ahem, biological waste.
Meet Dave and Amanda, my totally brilliant Peru friends, who stuck by my side through both the physical and emotional ups and downs. Amanda is brave, smart and a proper trooper even at only 50% fitness; Dave has the kind of appetite we approve of chez Carlton and an infectious kindness that makes me want to try and be nicer.
This is the aforementioned crew. I called the horse Passepartout until I found out his real name, which is Agusto. Next is Florence, the head mule driver; then Elkin, part man-part tank, who you will hear about in due course; behind him is sweet, shy Agustin who whips up a mean soup (and pretty bloody good food in general); then Joel, who patiently waited each time I trailed behind the others, stopping to catch my breath every 10 steps; and Esteban, who helped set up and cook. I'm told he had medical skills but thankfully we didn't need to call upon them. Alas, I don't know the name of the chap squatting at the front.
Finally there was Rambo, a one-year old dog who scampered about the mountains while we trekked and promptly collapsed to snooze every time we stopped for a break. It was lovely to see his little head pop up over a ridge to check we were still following when the trail got tough.
And now that you know everyone, I can begin the tale...
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