Santa Teresa beguiled my senses of the risky road that delivered me to its leafy sleepy tropical surrounds. I welcomed the melting temperatures that embraced my body parts inside and out. According to my booking details Eco Quechua Lodge was not far from the centre of the village. I was at a loss as to which road to take however, so a taxi was required. Another traveler had prompted me to stay here. ‘A tree house in the tree tops,’ was how she described it. It sounded heavenly.
Heaven was well disguised. A narrow sandy path lined with coffee trees led the taxi car to a simple hut proposing to be a shop, one that was quite bare and lacking in change (coins). To the left, a series of stepping stones led steeply to a wooden terrace amongst the tree tops. Like a curious child I hopped giddily from stone to stone arriving at the wooden sheltered platform. Bowls of ripe avocados and bananas greeted me. From the balcony I absorbed the beauty of the tree top canopy of the jungle cloud forest. Exotic flowers bloomed effortlessly from pots and transported earth. The air was sweet and exotic with so many new scents. The sun beamed serenely for this time of afternoon. I was at once at ease and surrendering to a blissful feeling.
The owner ‘Kiki’ appeared and gave me a warm welcome. He had a few rooms available and offered me a choice. I was sold on the first he presented, a makeshift space of almost three surrounding walls consisting of thin branches, loosely bound planks and a roof of matted twigs and nest-like vegetation with an open balcony providing glimpses of the Urubamba (Vilcanota) river below. A simple mesh net proposed to protect the sleeper from the jungles tiny creatures in the twilight hours. I was not leaving this room. It was mine for the next two nights.
A romantic location it surely was and it was especially the place for lovers. Beneath the eaves of the main reception platform I savoured a simple meal of rice and chicken and sampled a Pisco Sour. Couples quietly ate their meals before retiring to their tree top quarters which were intimately spaced together.
This would certainly be the place that my novel heroine Kitty Clinch would have chosen to bring her Peruvian lover. What of this Kitty Clinch of my creation? Would she really go through with her plans to settle and end her days hitched in Peru? What would it take to make such a move? I had to find out so as to write more authentically about this woman who was compelled to radically change her life.
In the night time bodies enveloped each other, some more noisily than others. The Urubamba sighed heavily at the feet of the trees that jostled at the edge of my open balcony. Water cleaved the rocks below at a steady breathy pace. An outrageous giggle from the other side of the partition to my left gave an uncanny feeling of being part of some voyeuristic party. It was not the place for loneliness but I considered it momentarily. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to be in this special place. To come alone or with another, did it really matter? Yes it mattered entirely. I would rather be alone than to have a watered down memory of a touch that was not filled with the heart-depth of another.
I could take the river and the trees and the jungle night time air in this paradise destination and they could take all of me. A soul filled with beauty eventually tires itself to sleep. I slept soundly.
© Caroline Cunningham Author of Wild Star Landing