The German who told us about Vilcabamba was not young. Nor would she be considered old anywhere but a college campus or youth hostel, but we were in the latter. In a youth hostel I’m positively paternal, so in her mid-40s, she was verging on grandmotherly.
It’s a weird world, that of the backpacker.
But it’s also a serendipitous and miraculous one, and here we were, a few hours into our months in Ecuador, and a lady who looked like she had the experience to know what she was talking about was telling us about the semi-mystical land of Vilcabamba.
“It’s the Valley of Eternal Life, people there live to be 140 years old, and that’s the average.”
“Well…my visa doesn’t last that long…but tell me more.”
“I stayed at this place” grabbing one of the flyers for Hostel Izhcayluma that would prove ubiquitous in Ecuador “it is beautiful, with…
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