Traveling on the death train to Machu Picchu is becoming less appealing to me. I have been reading peoples' blogs about it and it has been described as a mosquito and cockroach-infested bomb that takes a shoddy rail network through the mountains. Its traincars slam into each other at each stop (of which there are many) waking you up in the middle of the night with a terrifying feeling of derailment. If I were on autopilot for self destruct, I would consider the trip. People say to take the death train for a more "real" expérience, but I have enough reality to deal with. They say the rich love to do things the hard way and the poor prefer to relax and when given the choice, choose the easy way. I think this comes from always having to work. My time in Brazil has not been work in the sense of labor or time spent in an office, but the negotiations and sacrafices made in final moments of frustration tally a heavy sum.
But I have not given up on traveling. Ivo and I are leaving for the Amazon at the end of the week. My death train will have to wait. Bugs, many many bugs and creatures I have yet to meet are calling for me.
p.s. I didn~t take this photo of the death train but see how it~s close to running someone over on the tracks? I haven~t even seen it and it scares me.
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