We have finally left Cusco after three amazing weeks of slight madness, and some near death experiences- I'm kidding, no need for concern. We are a bit weepy after leaving the lovely boys though and our fellow volunteers, guys we miss you a lot! Many happy memories, here are just a few...
We can safely say that our stamina has improved immensely over the past few weeks, altitude has got the better of us and yes there have been a few abrasions to the flesh. A night on the toon became a regular occurrence in Cusco. Lads. For example, one recent occasion included hitching a 2 minute bus ride to our 'dancing destination' and Octavia taking the liberty to stand on the back of the so called hippy van. This trembling exhaust was not willing to withstand humankind and so one minute she was there, the next, road kill. DO NOT PANIC AL, ALLS WELL THAT ENDS WELL. Octavia fell on her thigh and was luckily not swept under the vehicle, instead she made her way, with a limp to the nearest pasteleria open at 5am and healed her moment of fear. India and I on the other hand were freaking out and made five journeys back and forth to find the trembling creature who was very contentedly sat in a cafe.
So while I luckily avoided being spatulared off the Peruvian tarmac, Rosie had a close encounter with shin splints on another occasion, thinking it wise to fall backwards off a bar and hence smashing the discoteca's entire supply of alcohol. Her popularity was raging, and, more importantly, her leg was almost halved at the knee. Nice one Rosie. We can say, as a general rule, the Cusquenan mojitos usually resulted in, one, being sick during having our face painted, two, finding the excuse to consume an obscene amount of fast food in the early hours, and three, having to awkwardly explain to the fellow volunteers why the entire contents of the fridge had miraculously disappeared the following morning. Gabby, we will replace your milk, rice and vegetables at a later date/in the next life.
Our day time activities were no less devoid of accident. One sunny day saw Rosie strolling innocently up the hill, to be confronted by Devil Dog inhabiting next door. Attacking from behind, said mongrel went for calves 1 and 2 and consequently Rosie is now frothing at the mouth. Rather inconvenient really. Do not despair, Soph, she isn't barking yet. Its true, I'm not rabid, just scarred for life and poised for attack at any dog that approaches, armed with meat chops in times of desperation. As a treat Octavia, organised a lovely day of relaxation to soothe my wounds, this included a session of yoga, where I'm pretty sure we ruined every ligament in our bodies. Ocs was rather unfortunate in that she had a rastafarian's ass in her face for the entire hour of stretching. Following this was a Peruvian style, full body massage, very relaxing I must say, until it came to the feet whereby Octavia's masseuse fled the building.
Feeling cultural, we hopped on the local bus one day to explore the city's historical heritages. Unfortunately, we missed the stop and carried off into the suburbs and over the horizon, lost and presumed dead by all. Sadly India, who had "fallen incorrectly" during her bungee jump (moron) was forced to limp round the deserted streets in the rain. We shouldnt have laughed. But we did. A miserable lunch of Polleria's fried chicken and a viewing of Jaws 4 in Spanish prevailed. Maybe not as cultural as we had hoped. Still, the intention was there. But disaster was still around corner. Rosie impulsively decided to reinvent her image and bravely frequented the local hairdresser. It was apparent instantly that relevant qualifications were thin on the ground, for Rosie emerged with bowl cut and bruised ego. She looks swell. Attempting to straighten the unequal incline of practically shaved scalp, Mrs Woman next door removed a further 6 inches off Rosie's previously lucious locks, plunging the poor child into a heightened stage of baldness. Tee hee.
But along with the bruises and additonal bite marks, are some great moments shared with the boys. I wish we could bang on about all of them in turn, but we insist upon meeting them yourselves. As a sample, you would be fortunate to witness Edgar's surprising flexibility when it came to the Limbo, Efrain's astonishing dance moves for an 11 year old, Stephen's ruthless charm and killer smile, and Jonathan's mad skills with a football. We are failed in our attempts to kidnap Moses, the baby of the bunch, but whose ego would be enough to make Clooney weak at the knees. We can safely say that we have never made so many hot dogs in all our days, or been defeated quite so often at bench ball. One sunday trip we took the boys  to the forest where we attempted to play our best football, to no avail and ended up being flawed several times down rabbit holes. At one stage, there were 12 volunteers and 4 boys. We lost. A pancake session was in order, which the boys thoroughly enjoyed, demonstrating our flipping skills, Alex was in his element and the boys were in awe of his talents, nice one Al. Octavia and I also invested in a farewell cake which tasted a bit like ash, a nice gesture on the whole.
Cusco, we miss you. Original Volunteers Adios. It has honestly been one of our favourite moments in the past three and a half months and we shall return in true style to visit the boys and raid the restaurants. We hit the road again and journey on to Arequipa with Paris and Milly in tow, until next time.