My latest mini travel memoir
Is that an angel? I think, as I squint at the silhouetted figure peering down from the pass. I breath deep but at 4,800m my lungs feel tight. Bending over I ease the pressure of the heavy rucksack from my shoulders, and see the frosty ground of sodden shale beneath my boots. I hear a crack and a rumble and look across to Yerupaja, the second highest mountain in Peru, as a chunk of glacier cascades into avalanche far across the ravine. I look to the mysterious figure 50m above me. I thought I was alone up here.
Picking a pile of rocks about 10m ahead I trudge on, one step at a time, heart beating faster and breath becoming shorter, but refusing to rest until I reach my target. I repeat the same routine as I zigzag up the trail, pausing sometimes to look up at the figure, my…
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