But first a thought on fate.

{Ed. note: This was written after the Manu posts, but I think it makes more sense to put it here. I hope you agree.}

Getting near Manu Biosphere Reserve in Peru is expensive (getting into the park is nearly impossible, I have heard). A decent trip requires at least 4-5 days and as with most decent trips in Peru you have to go with a licensed guide which generally means a fat tip. It usually requires advanced planning. And did I mention it's expensive?

I had decided to at least look into it - when the cook from the trekking tour says "you MUST get to Manu" and is disappointed that you probably won't have time to go, and a guy who's been traveling for a year including Antarctica says that of all the places he went (including Antarctica), Manu was his favorite place, I try to listen. Plus, Viki pointed out the macaw clay lick. That looked neat.

Wednesday afternoon I was trying to find the office of one of the tour agencies I'd found that looked like it treated its employees well and had lots of tour options... and I fell into a hole.

Literally. It was a small hole in the sidewalk just big enough for my foot and deep enough that I sank to my knee, scraping my leg from ankle to calf in the process. Hurt like absolute hell. As I hobbled down the street still in search of this office I thought, "maybe this is a sign that I should turn around and book a Cusco hostel and see about Lake Titicaca and the Nazca lines." But I kept going.

I found the address of the first office. It looked like a residence. The nice woman standing outside her salon next door confirmed that it was the home of Senora So-and-So (another sign! turn around already!). She sent me off with her young-20-something son to find the second place I had written down, one that had been recommended by our trekking and rafting guides. Her son took me there, chatting cordially with me in better English than my Spanish along the way. It was just a few blocks away but still... Would you do that for a total stranger wandering around your city? Once again I was blown away by the kindness of people here, and once again I vowed to ask anyone wandering the streets of Portland with a map and a confused look, if they needed help finding a place.

Anyway.

As luck would have it, there was a 5-day tour leaving the next day. It was pricey, but it was Manu. When I told a few locals I encountered later that night that I was going to Manu their eyes lit up and they emphatically assured me I would enjoy it - a reaction I didn't get about the ruins or even rafting. If everyone else was right, it would be worth the cost, so I signed up.

On day four, right before lunch, I saw a jaguar.

I. Saw. A. Jaguar.

Um, so yeah. It was worth it. But regardless of that amazing 5 minutes of my life, it was worth it on Friday and it was worth it Saturday night and it was worth it at 5:30am Sunday morning and even Monday's Gilligan Island aventura was totally worth it - stories will be told in forthcoming posts.

And I think the original signs actually were there for a reason, just not the reason I first thought. Because the signs turned as soon as I booked the trip. For example, Manu is about the size of Maryland according to the papers I received that night. Hmmm. Of all the states? Maryland? Hmmm. And the cabins here are named after jungle animals; I got assigned the hormiguero (anteater) cabin. Remember the awesome t-shirt I referenced in one of the Quito posts? I love anteaters. Hmmm.

The universe works in very mysterious ways, everything happens for a reason. Think this was a good decision.