There’s also no real sound reason why I let my man Ludin, lamo extraordinaire, go on a trip to that fabled town - other than my desire to see pictures taken by someone who’s not a professional, and whose intuitive aim may bring back impressions that can’t be found in a National Geographic or Wikipedia page.
A few hours before departure Ludin still hasn’t shown up. We raise the agent on the VHF and inquire about the local coop. Knowing Ludin, he’s probably in there explaining things. “We’re looking for a short Filipino dude who talks a lot and carries a Canon.”“Yes,” says a tired voice on the other end, “He fell asleep with Estelle.”“Have you tried to wake him?”[no reply]“Shout in his ear that he’s an evil bastard and his ship is leaving and he can stay in Peru with no money!”[the phone’s put down]
“Edgar’s fault,” pants Ludin when he ascends the gangway, wafting like a brewery and wearing clothes he hadn’t before.“Did Edgar push you into a bucket of Johnny Walker? Who the hell is Edgar?”“Edgar is an evil bastard,” Ludin points out in the obvious conviction that everything is sorted out now.
It takes quite a bit of threatening for Ludin to break down. Apparently, Ludin met Edgar on the bus to Machupicchu, and Edgar talked Ludin into letting him use his Canon. But this Edgar took such a liking to the camera that he wouldn’t part with it, and Ludin (wholly against his nature and upbringing) was forced to trot after Edgar for two days, until he fell asleep with Estelle.
Obviously, Ludin will scrub filters for the next six weeks. Edgar was never heard from again. Below are some of the pictures from the boys’ excursion (omitting the pictures of Estelle and friends):
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
Machupiccu, Peru
