Philadelphia was a trip we didn’t know we so desperately needed until we were already waving goodbye to our friends at the train station, prolonging every moment before our inevitable journey back home. Being that it was only planned a week in advance, I wonder now if it was a sign from the Universe telling us to feed our then-desolate spirits. This trip was special for many reasons: it was our first trip of 2017 (we took it the first week of January), a trip to commemorate Tommy’s birthday, our first time in Philly visiting our friends Paul and Liz, and most importantly, it would be the first trip Tommy took since his recovery.
When people ask me how I chose Peru as the destination for our last trip, they’re often surprised I don’t have a calculated rhyme or reason. In a swarm of mundane Google searches that went something like ‘cool-places-to-visit-that-wont-cost-me-an-arm-or-leg-and-has-good-icecream”, Peru made constant appearances in my findings and thus became embedded in my subconscious. In April, Tommy and I were having dinner with his cousin when he remarked, “I’ve been thinking about visiting Peru to see Machu Picchu. We should make it happen”. And suddenly months of disheveled research and scattered information stored in my subconscious flooded my conscious brain and I went home, booked 3 tickets to Lima, and the rest was an afterthought.