My Harrowing Escape From A Cuban Airport

July 27, 2014July 27, 2014 / storiesofalbert / 2 Comments

There were 3 Factors that allowed this story to become a possibility. I’d like to recognize them first before I share my story.

Factor 1. As the budget traveler that I am, I had scheduled in perfect layers each leg of my trip to/from Cuba. In other words? If I missed one leg, I miss the rest.

Factor 2. There are no ATMs for American citizens in Cuba.

Factor 3. Because of Factor #2, I had budgeted my last 50 CUCs (Cuba’s currency for foreigners) to the TEETH the last 48 hours I was in Cuba.

And now, my story.

It was supposed to be a smooth agenda coming back home. I had gone through Customs multiple times in multiple countries and I was confident that today’s visit wasn’t going to be any different.

3:15pm – I’m inside a slightly crammed booth looking awkwardly back at the camera as they snapped a photo of me. My 6′ 1″ frame towered above the desk, anxiously waiting for Cuban Official Lady #1 to buzz the door and allow me to be on my way. Cuban Official Lady #1 looked over my boarding pass again and swiveled her chair around to speak with Cuban Official Lady #2 & #3.

My toe tapped a bit quicker as I tried my best to interpret their rapid, gunfire Spanish. I understood nothing.

The chatter stopped and Cuban Official Lady #1 peeked up from her desk and handed back my boarding pass…and slowly spoke two words, (this time in English).

“Airport Tax.”

I quickly responded, “Airport Tax? No no, I already paid that when I flew into Cuba!”

Hopelessly, I waited for an assuring reaction but all I got was a finger wag.

“No, you pay airport tax. No airport tax, no leave.”

My flight was departing at 4:00pm, and I was in trouble.

3:20pm: I frantically walked back out into the airport lobby and began accessing my options. This did not take long as my options were limited. Find some money or face being stuck in the airport for a night(s).

But how was I going to find money?

I did a quick 360 degree scan for anything/anyone that might get me a step closer towards my new goal.

Ah, over there! There were two Caucasians, one dressed in a vivid pink shirt and the other in a forest green polo speaking with an attendant from Cayman Airways. “They are going to be my ticket out,” I thought to myself.

I casually strolled a bit closer to them and left about 100 feet between us so I wouldn’t completely surprise them when they turned around. My toe tapped a bit quicker.

3:25pm: After what seemed like an eternity of talking, Pink Shirt and Green Polo finally began walking towards me. I did my best, Let’s-Be-Friends-Smile and explained to them my situation.

I need money, we’re both flying to the Cayman Islands, I swear I’ll pay you back, I need money, now, help, please.

Pink Shirt smiled back and in very broken English (but excellent body language!) responded, “Eh..no money. See? Only 5.”

I needed $29.

3:27pm: I quickly thanked them (not sure why) and began scheming for alternative plans. There, in the corner of the terminal was an ATM. It was almost as if the ATM in its grey, lifeless form was devilishly teasing me to try. In a true act of desperation, I ran over to the ATM and prayed for a miracle.

My Barclays Mastercard Arrival Card went in and came straight back out. Declined.

Next, the Citi Thank You Premiere Card. It had a international chip, that might do the trick! Declined.

And finally, my Chase Debit Card. Declined.

No miracle today. 30min left.

3:30pm – I bolted for the nearest exit and began doing a quick scan outside for other potential kind foreigners. My heart was racing just a bit quicker now and I began to feel tiny beads of sweat congregating together on the top of my forehead.

I wondered, Is this due to the typical Caribbean humid, hot weather or the culmination of the stress that was washing over me? In any case, it was getting a bit frigid inside the airport anyways.

As I stood outside the airport, I was surprisingly very mindful on how my body and my mind was reacting to this frenzied situation.

There were 3 things I noticed right then and there.

1. Everything had accelerated. My body, my mind, my emotions. Adrenaline, the natural RedBull was kicking in full effect.

2. I thought of and recognized what the worst case scenario was going to be. This helped to some degree as it helped filter out useful, positive thoughts from the nonessential ones.

3. I made a decision to take control. When we’re in a panicky, desperate situation, we’re given three options. We can fight, run away, or just stand there and do nothing. I chose to fight. By accepting this mental decision, it gave my body permission to react likewise.

It was crazy how quickly my neurons were connecting with each other every mili-second that passed. Luckily, one of those connections led to an observation, then a thought, an idea…and finally, ACTION.

I needed to sell something.

Another quick scan. This time, on myself. I needed to sell something that was both enticing (speed) and expensive (price of Airpot Tax) enough in the manner of 10 minutes.

Hat?, no. Watch?, no. Camera?, hell no. Tour book?, no.

What about my Kindle?

Yes, YES! That’ll do.

I ran to a curb, ripped out a sheet of paper from my journal, whipped out my Nexus 5 and opened the Google Translate app and scribbled out a Sales Pitch (a terrible one at best):

Translation: FOR SALE: 60 CUC (I need money quickly for the airport tax!!!)

3:33pm – Armed with an offer and a sprinkle of cautious hope, I began flashing the sign (albeit a bit rudely) in front of peoples’ faces. After two rejections, I hear a high trilled whistle from behind me. I see an old, white haired cab driver standing a few feet away from me waving for me to come over. (We’ll call him Joe). I happily oblige.

At the same time, I also hear my name on the loudspeakers. **spanishspanishspanish AL-BERT LI-AO spanishspanishspanish**

Time was running out.

3:36pm – I look at Joe and hand him the Kindle to examine. I made sure I was standing close enough so that I could grab him by the collar in case he had any ideas on running away with my prized possession.

“45.” – Joe offers.

“Si! Ok! *Thumbs Up*”– I exclaim back to him.

Joe scrutinizes the Kindle for a few seconds longer and looks at me again. His hand motions for me to walk over to a taxi parked alongside the road. I follow.

Peering outside the taxi is another Cab Driver. Chubbier, similar in age but with a bit more hair. Let’s call him John.

With Sherlock Holme-like investigation, Joe and John began touching, weighing, and triple checking the product in question. They discuss with turtle worthy pace and finally came to an agreement.

3:46pm – I hear my name again. **AL-BERT LI-AO. AL-BERT LI-AO.” Final call.

John in the tinniest of hesitancy pulls out his dark brown leather wallet and looks squarely into my eyes and asks,

“US dollars Ok?”

“YES! SI! PERFECTO!” I emphatically answered back. Just give me the money already!!!!

John, obviously un-empathetic to my situation, slowly shuffles around his wallet to find the necessary two 20’s and 5 to complete our transaction.

And there it was. Beautiful in all its Green and Rectangle form was my ticket outta here. I handed them the Kindle, grabbed the cash, shook their hands, told them probably 50 gracias and ran back inside the airport.

3:50-4:00pm – The next 10 minutes was a blur. I ran to the Airport Tax booth where it was empty, barren, and alone. You’ve got be kidding me. Thankfully, right before I ran to the mean looking Policeman for help, Cuban Official Lady #4 entered the booth.

Money exchanged, boarding pass STAMPED, I ran back into the customs booth where I greeted Cuban Official Ladies #1-3 again. They seemed pleasantly surprised I was back so soon and proceeded to check my documents once more.

This time, the door buzzed opened and I ran to Gate 3, boarding pass and passport in hand.

A bit out of breath, I hand over the documents to the flight attendant.

“Hi, I’m here for the flight back to Cayman Islands.”

“Albert Liao?”

“Yes.”

“Welcome Aboard.”

If you liked this post, check out my other post here on my trip to Cuba. It’s filled with insights, perspectives, and a few cool pictures. 🙂

From Silicon Valley to Havana, Cuba – What I Learned During My 5 Day Visit

July 13, 2014July 14, 2014 / storiesofalbert / Leave a comment

So Why Cuba?

“It’s only impossible until someone does it for the first time”

When I told people I was traveling to Cuba, I received a lot of Why’s? & You’re Crazy’s! But hearing those responses only justified my reasonings for exploring this mysterious, history-riddled island. Like so many other interests in my life, what triggered this sudden urge to travel to Cuba was just a simple sense of curiosity. What was it like to live in a Communist country? How did the Cuban people feel about their circumstances? Was there a way for Americans to travel to Cuba (illegally?) The answers to these and many other questions were soon to be discovered, but first – I had to make a commitment to go. And so I did.

I arrived in Cuba with very few expectations. I really didn’t know WHAT to expect to be honest. When I traveled to other more “popular” places such as London, Machu Pichhu, and Paris, there was already subconscious expectation for greatness. The media, the glamour, the exchanges of travel tips/advice were all made perfectly clear before, during, and after those trips. With Cuba, it was a blank slate. During my short 5 day trip there, I did my best to observe and soak in (literally!) all that Cuba had in store for me. What I came back were perspectives colored with a range of different emotions that really made me think and appreciate life in America so much more than I ever had before. And if you will allow me dear reader, I’d love to share some of these observations with you today.

A Country And A Life Without Internet

It was a drastic transition coming from the heart of Silicon Valley where the Internet plays such a crucial role in the lives and businesses of millions of people to a country where words like, WiFi and Google were synonyms with goo-goo and ga-ga. Though the Internet was available (to a certain degree) in classier hotels and cafes, they were mainly reserved for foreigners and those with the financial means to use it. So for the majority of the Cuban people (~97% according to my research), the Internet was nonexistent.

This nonexistence of life’s most free and useful tool was both interesting and frustrating to see. I mean just imagine, a lifestyle without access to the Internet. While I’ve discussed this topic with my network of whether the Internet has ultimately hindered or advanced the lives of our generation, it was fascinating to see how the Cuban people lived on without it.

I remembered when Facebook acquired WhatsApp, the mobile messaging platform company for 19 Billion dollars and how huge of an impact it had on the tech community. Every one in the office was talking about it, Twitter was going bananas, and bloggers were having a field day discussing and rapidly meeting deadlines to produce content. But then you jump across a few thousand miles to the island of Cuba and you see that nothing has changed. Life as it was yesterday was the same today and tomorrow and the day after that. The gigantic world outside of Cuba and all the activity associated with it remains a mystery to its people.

On the other hand, it was also frustrating to see. The Internet, when properly used can be a life changing tool. The access to learning and bettering oneself in the matter of a few keystrokes could potentially provide a wealth of benefits for the lives and well being of the Cuban people. Growing up in the most digitally knowledged generation only made it even more painful knowing how much there was to gain with the power of the Internet.

Thankfully, there is some hope.

Google CEO Eric Schmidt recently visited Cuba to promote a “free and open Internet” to officials and students. You can read more about his visit here.

“We Are Like Clowns”

In a conversation that I had with a local Cuban, I asked him a simple question. “Winfredo, are you happy?”

He looked at me with dismal, tired eyes, eyebrows slightly furrowed in frustration and answered –

“No. We are like clowns here in Cuba. On the outside, we are happy and joyous. But in the inside we are sad and angry.”

I’ll never forget that.

Winfredo’s answer echoed synonymously with a few of the other Cubans I exchanged conversations with. Among the youth especially, dubbed the “I” generation of Cuba voiced similar frustrations and anger at their limited opportunities. What about us? Why can’t we pursue the dreams we want to?

Although I don’t have a complete grasp on how “careers” and such work in Cuba, from what I observed and read, the opportunities seem extremely limited. In fact, a popular ambition and goal many females in Cuba have as a young adult is to swoon foreigners who visit in hopes of having the opportunity to go back with him to their native country. Boys on the other hand aren’t so lucky.

For myself, I’ve always had some interest in helping friends succeed in their career goals. Whether it be providing advice, encouragement, or referring a job it was always so rewarding to see improve and become a better version of themselves. So when I really started digging deeper into the youth of Cuba and seeing people my age just continuously struggle and wish for more, I couldn’t help but empathize and feel for them.

Ugh.

Never have I felt so helpless during a vacation.

[Left to Right] Winfredo, his lady, and my travel companion, Melody

The Sky Ceiling Is The Limit

Up to this point of my 23 year American life, I had never really appreciated one of our country’s most foundational principles of freedom. What I took for granted as a catalysis for a great movie and rags-to-riches tale, it was only when I saw what a country without freedom looked like before my mental compass flipped on from North to South in a heartbeat.

Freedom can represent so many things. For some, it’s the freedom of learning. In the United States, parents have the power to dictate and guide where they see their children succeed in their education. For others, it’s the freedom of watching and reading whatever movie/book they please. (Just think! What if Game Of Thrones was censored from the USA?! The country would go into chaos.) But for me, as a lover of the world and its culture/sights/food/people/etc, what grips my heart for the Cuban people is their inability to leave the country.

“Cuban citizens cannot leave or return to Cuba without first obtaining official permission, which is often denied.”

Examples like these, (and there are more) only reshapes and refines my outlook on what freedom really means and boy! am I lucky to have been born here on American soil where freedom reigns ubiquitously.

Music And Dancing – An Essential Distraction

During our time in Cuba, it felt like we were naturally ingrained into the musical and dancing culture that was all around us. Obispo Street, one of the more visited streets of the city embraced visitors with the beautiful, exquisite sound of congos, maracas, trumpets, and the piano. These talented artists provided the platform for salsa dancers to slip in and show off their swirling footwork, with each step in perfect harmony to the beat of the music.

As melodic and soothing it was watching and listening to these passion-led performers, I couldn’t help but ponder about the overreaching importance of what music and dancing means for the Cuban people. The last couple decades hasn’t been easy. It’s been one filled with widespread poverty, suffering, and the continual hope for something better. Any opportunity to be distracted from these depressive thoughts was always welcomed with wide open arms.

So as I watched these Cubans joyously sing and dance, I wondered – What are they thinking of? What deep rooted pains are hiding behind these smiles?

The Power Of Limited Choices

There was a TED talk beautifully presented by Barry Schwartz a couple months ago that discussed the topic of the freedom of choices. [Link to talk here.] In his ~20min presentation, he argued that, “choice has made us not freer but more paralyzed, not happier but more dissatisfied.” Barry has my complete support. My love for In N Out burgers extends beyond just their fresh juciy patties and magically done fries, but also because of the limited amount of options on their menu. You have your Hamburger and your CheeseBurger. Done.

But in Cuba, that ideal is flipped around. In fact, for many families throughout Cuba they are dependent on a rationing system. Families are given a coupon book that can be exchanged at their local bodega for the standard minimums of rice, sugar, matches, and oil. They are also given a whopping ~$17/month to purchase other food products (like meat.) that are also distributed and controlled by governmental centers.

Again, I wonder. For 3rd world developing countries like Cuba, would this same philosophy of less choices = more happiness applies? I would think that familiarity would lead to boredom and from there, an urge/need to want more choices. But when you are living on $1/day, I’m sure the first (and probably only) priority is to survive, thus exhausting any temptations to want more.

Food for thought.

Last Thoughts

“A man can be destroyed but not defeated.” – Ernest Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway, dubbed “Papa” by the Cuban people was a beloved figure adorned by all. His words, spread across the pages of legendary books often times reflected the hardships and celebrations of the Cuban culture and its people. In the above quote taken from his best selling novel, “The Old Man And The Sea” , the hero of the story shares an important lesson of harnessing a spirit of triumph despite dejecting circumstances. Although possessing very little, the hero (the old fisherman) had so much. An undying love for fishing and the genuine love for the camaraderie between him and the boy.

I was lucky to have met a few of these likeminded individuals during my visit. Individuals who graciously showed me love and enthusiasm for their country despite harboring hardships that I will never fully comprehend. Hemingway, and the millions of people his work continually symbolizes provides powerful lessons that can be applied to our lives.

Lessons of perseverance, appreciation, hope…

But perhaps the most important lesson during this trip that was reinforced in my life was a simple recognition: despite whatever circumstances people are in, people are just that -people. And as people, we all deserve the same simple pleasures of this life: laughter, kindness, love, and respect shared among each other.

6 Reasons Why I Love To Travel

June 9, 2014June 9, 2014 / storiesofalbert / Leave a comment

Start With The Why.

Those four words have been a reoccurring question thats sporadicly flashed in my subconsciousness throughout these past several days.

Start With The Why.

It’s been interesting meticulously examining the answers that I’ve applied that mindset to in various sectors of my life:

Why I’m working at Google…Why I chose to move to Nor Cal….Why I enjoy talking with people….

But most recently, as I once again found myself at the checkout window of American Airlines, I couldn’t help but take a step back and ask…

Why I Love To Travel (so damn much) ?

And why is it important to truly understand, why I do?

The latter posed question is a bit easier to define. It’s start with purpose. By answering the Why’s to life’s’ more inquisitive questions, unfocused lenses become sharpened with direction and renewed motivation. It’s the steady compass that you fall back on when you are feeling lost, full of unanswered questions. Similarly, the inability to answer this notion of Why, can lead to frustration and confusion. Without a defined purpose of why, we become like statues, numb in our motivation and ambition in reaching our potential. So by defining and understanding Why I enjoy traveling so much, I hope that I will only fall deeper in love with this hobby and lifestyle of traveling.

Moving on.

When I posed this elementary, you-should-already-know this question of Why I Love To Travel so much, I was surprised (and slightly disappointed) at myself for not being able to immediately come up with a list of answers.

How was I not able to come up with just a few well thought out reasons on something I enjoyed and loved so much?

Have I been some fake dude who only traveled because it was the “thing” to do as a Twenty-something?

Thankfully, no. The truth is, I just never took the time and mental effort to take a step back and reflect. To just click PAUSE on life and examine deeply and genuinely on the WHY behind traveling.

In the past, I was just traveling cause I needed to. I spontaneously bought tickets and just DID IT. I was on the go, adrenaline flowing nonstop from departure to arrival gates. And it wasn’t until just recently, where I took a hot moment to just step back.

So after a few hours of thought, I was able to churn out from the factories of my heart and mind,

6 Reasons Why I Love To Travel

1. Because That’s Where My Favorite Stories To Share Are From

Everyone loves a great story. It’s an instant attention-grabber that organically draws an audience. When little Albert pops out in the future (just a reference, I probably won’t name my son/daughter Albert…) I sincerely hope I have some fantastic tales from my travels to share with him/her. (Dumbed down of course for G -rated audience)

2. It’s A Fantastic Way To Connect With People

Not only do you meet some unbelievably fascinating people whilst on your trip, the ability to relate and connect with people back at home is also an added bonus. One of the easiest way to increase your own likeability is by sharing an experience, interest, or belief with another person. By traveling, I’ve been lucky to increase this pool of potentially relatable experiences, interests, or beliefs.

“Oh you’ve been to Nicaragua?!” Cool! Boom, friends.

“What are your thoughts about the tradition of haggis in Scotland?” It’s disgustingly awesome! Boom, friends.

3. To Gain A New Perspective

…on the culture, the traditions, the values and to find the applicable themes back into our own lives in the US, and vice versa. In this Internet driven world, we’re lucky to learn about virtually ANY ethnicity/race/country/etc. we want with just a few keystrokes. But what we miss out on is that face-to-face, HUMAN interaction. That is irreplaceable.

By being present, you, along with the person you are interacting with, shed a few layers of vulnerability in faith that understanding and curiosity is exchanged in return.

4. It’s Makes Me A Better Person

What do I mean by better? Simply, an improvement of my self before I leave on an adventure. I’ve become more curious, more confident, and more appreciative each and every time I come back. And I know for a fact, that I will only continue to grow by stepping out of my comfort zone when I travel.

5. There’s No Better Hiding Place

I remember the first time I went to Disneyland when I was little dude. Disneyland’s magic got to my imagination and dreams and for a day, I felt like I was just, in a different place. This my friends, is how I feel when I travel. To just turn a blind eye towards reality and to let myself loose in a playground of the unknown.

This unexplored world is just a bigger Disneyland.

6. It’s The Ultimate Canvas To Showcase My Creativity

Photography, videos, writing. There’s no better outlet than embarking on an adventure to fresh and exciting new places to spark creativity. There’s a sweet naturalness to finding inspiration when one is thrown in an unfamiliar place, and I’m truly lucky to be equipped with the tools to capture those moments.

Start With The Why

I thought I’d end the blog with the same header as the beginning to really drive in this point. Whether it’s traveling, your career, your religion, your relationship, your hobbies, take a few moments to just ask the “why’s” behind the things you care and treasure the most. It’s might be scary and uncomfortable. But it’ll also be relieving, uplifting, and motivating, and absolutely rewarding.

I for one, also have a ton I need to still figure out. But thankfully, with this post done, I have at least one department of my life figured out. (at least for now…)

Let me know what your thoughts are!

Always happy to chat.

Learning with you always,

Where I Escape To When Reality Gets Too Boring

April 2, 2014April 17, 2014 / storiesofalbert / Leave a comment

Sometimes I like to sit still and daydream.

It feels good to be in control. To give permission to myself to just escape and allow my mind to wander wherever it pleases. This must be how birds feel. Can you imagine that?

Like a bird, I like to travel to new places. More often than not, my daydreams end up revisiting a place of the past. It’s a pretty cool thought when you really think about how your mind is able to do that. The implosion of imagination within your brain to just suddenly appear in a country thousands of miles away…in just a manner of nanoseconds? Woah.

For 36 seconds, I’m in a kayak, surrounded by an ocean of pitch black darkness. I’m surrounded by tiny streaks of neon blue lights that dart haphazardly in every random direction below us. I carefully scoop a cup of this magical water and drop it on my lap…only to flinch back in surprise when I see my own hand glittering. I am in Mosquito Bay, Puerto Rico experiencing one of nature’s most incredible phenomenons – the bioluminescent bay.

And now I find myself in a different kayak. This time yellow. I see the silhouettes of two neck bending volcanoes across the horizon. I hear monkeys howling. I see farmers tending to their ox. The water is quiet, but only for a few minutes. Rain clouds decides to make a sudden intrusion to an afternoon of peace and begins spilling thousands of little droplets splashing across my face, bare feet, and freshly-wounded-flesh-peeled injury on my left knee. But I welcome it, because I am dreaming still and nothing can stop me. I am in Ometepe Island, Nicaragua.

I close my eyes now as I have been daydreaming with eyes open and wait to see where my mind takes me next.

I’m flying, no I’m windsurfing across the Atlantic Ocean to a small, quiet city by the sea, populated by 8,000 adorable Irish folks. I’m a bit cold and wet by the time I finally arrive on a perfectly placed hill that boasts a panoramic view of an armada of boats and island humps. I look up and see skies as blue as marbles and feel the comforting blanket of the sun, radiating softly on my skin. Then I GASP. Before me, stretched as wide and long as the Great Wall Of China, is a rainbow so rich and detailed in every one of its colors and so bright and overpowering that I almost began to question if I was hallucinating.

It was the most beautiful rainbow I have ever seen. And it just so happened to be in Howth, Ireland.

These and many other stories in my mind continue on.

Some, more detailed than others.

But they are stories nonetheless.

They are visual and emotional triggers that will leave permanent footsteps in my mind and my imagination for the rest of my life.

They form a little fort in my mind, where I know I’ll be shielded safely from life’s harsh realities, even maybe for just a few seconds.

It’s a priceless investment.

So go travel. And come daydream with me.

-AL

New York City – An Urban Paradise

March 22, 2014April 17, 2014 / storiesofalbert / Leave a comment

Where do I come from?

I come from a city where the streets fall silent before the clock strikes double digits.

I come from a city where the nearest skyscraper to be found is only 264,000 feet away.

I come from a city populated with middle class families, enjoying the day to day, steady beat of

suburban life.

And it’s a city far different than that of The Concrete Jungle, New York City.

Traveling to New York City as a solo wanderer was an absolute dream. As an avid photographer and risk free adventurer, NYC provided the perfect platform for me to truly be myself. To pause… and feel the heartbeat of the city and to listen to the melodic cacophony of honking taxis, the swooshes of underground subways, and the high-C notes of guitarists, trumpeters, and violinists. Like the piercing winds that cuts through the skins of those who roam its streets, New York City ingrains a spirit of ambition, hope, and unwavering confidence to any who dare to enter.

Its a jungle unlike any other. A couple steps in the wrong direction can rightfully lead you into a completely different world of people, food, music, and traditions.

It’s a playground for every single one of senses to come alive. Remembering to take in a breath is of importance, as you would otherwise suffocate from the myriad of times you become breathless by the sights that surround you.

But simply enough, it’s New York. And the dream to be part of this magical experience has never burned as passionately and longingly as before.

And that dream will come alive, just like it has for millions of people across every corner of this earth soon enough.

-AL

STOP!

Weary Feet

Silhouettes

Wanderer

Overshadowed

Dreaming, bigger.

What do you see?

Just waiting

Last Goodbyes

Halal Smoke

Streaking Lights

Taxi please

Be Still. The Inca Trail Is Talking.

December 9, 2013March 21, 2014 / storiesofalbert / Leave a comment

This was a different kind of adventure.

Crazy might be a good word to describe it. Not an external, let’s get drunk and do crazy stuff kind of crazy. More of a, “Wow. I am so small, so helpless” kind of crazy.

Crazy to think about the mysteries of the past. Crazy to think about the arresting gaze which sky scraping mountaintops reflect back at you with each step. Crazy in surrendering yourself to Nature’s will and power, slowly drifting away in its beauty.

Crazy.

So instead of boring you with a description of my time in Peru, I’ll leave you with 11 pictures that I felt in a way, captured my emotions in ways which no word(s) could.

I felt most comfortable to present these 11 pictures in a Black & White setting to eliminate any distractions and to maximize the mystical aura which followed me through my trip.

Close your eyes, let yourself go, and join me in my newfound admiration of this magnificent country of Peru.