A Plea
Dear Mummy,
It’s been three days since you started walking to Machu Picchu, on the hardest route offered by the tour guides. You have climbed 1600m, gasped for breath at altitude, fallen and twisted your ankle. Your legs set solid every time you sit down and if you put your feet down too hard you can feel the blisters shifting. Last night you ’slept’ in a tent whilst it was -15 degrees Celsius outside, and your stomach has gone on strike and refuses to digest anything. You are wearing revolting clothes, covered in dust and now monkey poo from that little sod who climbed into your coat to go to sleep earlier. The dirt is ingrained into your hands, and in order to get around at 1:00 am you have to twiddle the knob on your wind-up torch constantly.
So why are you going out clubbing, instead of keeping me warm and cared for? Why? How can that ever be a good idea?
Cusco, Peru - Greg
Location, South America | greg | 
July 23, 2009 9:12 pm
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By mum, July 24, 2009 @ 5:43 am
awww !!! poor greg
come and live with me instead
By CJ, July 24, 2009 @ 11:06 am
Has Mummy, perhaps, gone a little bit mad with altitude? There’s only one cure for that; having a bath.