We were in Peru last week, doing the Machu Picchu thing. Not the Inca trail hike up the mountain—that is for the good young days—just a train and bus ride. It was a complex itinerary. Fasten your seat belts as this will make you dizzy:
Day 1: Fly into Lima. Overnight in Lima. (hotel #1)
Day 2: Fly into Cuzco. A bus ride into the Sacred Valley, and overnight in Urubamba. (hotel #2)
Day 3: Bus to train station in Ollanta.
Train ride to Aguas Calientas (Machu Picchu Pueblo).
Bus ride up the hill to the base of Machu Picchu.
Hike up the zigzag Inca trail over uneven rocks to the glorious Machu Picchu. Take it all in.
Walk back to the base.
Bus ride to Aguas Calientes (hotel #3)
Did you note that we changed 3 hotels in 3 days? That’s my excuse for what happened next.
Day 4: We were packing to check out when I noticed my scarf was missing.
Must be here.
Must be there.
Nowhere?
Unpack.
Re-pack.
Oh no!
Oh, dear!
Oh well!
Board the train back to Cuzco.
Get on the bus for the long ride to the hotel.
The landscape is breathtaking, but I am thinking about my scarf. I liked that scarf. It was versatile. Grey on black. I wore it with black, grey and even pink. Maybe it got rumpled between the comforter and sheets in the hotel room and I missed it.
Henry, our tour guide walked up to our seats holding two packages wrapped in white tissue paper, lowered himself, and said to me, “I have a surprise package for you.”
I gasped. “Is it something I lost?”
Henry nodded and smiled.
My scarf.
“The hotel called me this morning,” Henry said.
“Only a minute ago I was mourning the loss,” I said to him. Henry then went to another passenger with the second package. I guess I wasn’t the only one with a lost-and-found story. Then he rushed to the front of the bus to give us the run-down on the next day’s schedule, and I was left with: What? How? When?
I walked up to Henry in the lobby as we checked into hotel #4 in Cuzco.
“So, how did you get the scarf? The hotel was in another town.”
“They called me this morning and gave me the room number and name of the guest. I then sent our tour bus driver to the hotel to pick it up.”
“Isn’t the hotel far off, as in very far?”
“It’s a 40-minute ride.”
“He drove 40 minutes each way for my scarf!”
Henry smiled.
“Thank you, Henry,” is all I could muster.
“That’s Gate1 Travel,” Henry was not taking any credit.
“You know, I am going to write a blog on this,” I said to Henry. His assistant guide Edward was standing by. “Can you share that with us?”
“Sure. Give me your contact info.”
As we walked away, Khalid whispered, “Let's make sure to give the driver a nice tip.”
That evening as we sat down to dinner in hotel #4, I noticed the gentleman who also got back his item, seated at the adjacent table. I walked over. “So, you too lost and found your item,” I said.
“Well actually, I didn’t lose it.” He had this sheepish look on his face. “I didn’t want it anymore so I left it in the hotel hoping they would donate it.”
Moral of the story: If you want to lose something, do it at your last stop. And don’t be surprised if a FedEx package from Gate1 Travel lands at your doorstep, signed: From Peru with love.
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