Big yellow taxi

After 3 days of challenging cycling and one rest day, we're on a bus to Cusco to give the legs a break. Can't help but notice how green this section of the Andes is... We're so used to the barren dusty landscapes that to see trees of the non cactus variety is rather pleasant. Other than the bag of dubious yellow liquid Ant found down the side of his seat (of which we will never speak of again) this bus is rather comfy... Reclining leather seats, something that almost resembles air conditioning and a TV showing Richard Gear dubbed in the style of a small Spanish mouse.
That being said, I can't quite get my head around being the person on the bus and not the crazy gringita (yes they think I'm a young lady wahooo) cyclist who it's heading towards at full speed around a mountain pass.
Feeling in awe of the 30minutes its taken us to do a 4hour climb, and my legs are thanking me for it... But feeling surprisingly sad watching the scenery whizz by without really beinging at one with it. See on the bike, as well as swearing at the hills and telling your legs to shut up, you get to say hello to people, see the different types of culture from one place to another, have an old lady try to teach you Quecha in a local mountain village, have kids look at you with shock and awe and grab their bikes to join you as far as they think they can get away with, realise that the only thing any shed (restaurant) will serve you is lomo saltado and soup but you love it because it's food, finding yet another closed shop in a sleepy village then finding the owner who is more than happy to open it for you, but no they don't have water - just stale bread and Inca cola, getting to the top of a 4hour climb feeling like you have nothing left, then look up and realise you're on top of the world and you've earned that view, whilst the cars are whizzing by nonchalant to everything, you're almost in tears at the beauty of nature and revived enough to get down the other side and onwards to wherever you'll sleep tonight, whether on a beautiful hill side or in a hotel.
So does it feel strange watching Peru pass us by, not just knowing exactly how far we'll get, but also exactly where we'll be sleeping tonight and that we have more than enough food and water to last the whole day...absolutely. Do I feel sad that we've just passed some beautiful snowy peaks and I haven't earned that view... Definitely. Am I hoping that Jamling and Fat Al are surviving in the luggage compartment and worried about them as if they were my children... Surprisingly so.
Perhaps getting the bus to Puno isn't looking so appealing, either way I cant wait to be back on the bikes exploring.
"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'till its gone... "