Mindblowing Incas

Sunday, May 27 — Part 2

Armando and our driver Wilman picked me up at 8 a.m.  Our first stop of the day was back up on the hill where Sachsayhuaman is to see Christo Blanco, a large white statue of Christ (think, Christ the Redeemer only smaller) that was gifted to Cuzco as a thank you gift at one time by the Palestinians.  It sits high up over Cuzco and is floodlit.  I saw it last night from the main square in Cuzco.  The view over the city from up there though was spectacular.  I’m amazed at how much larger Cuzco is than I thought. I thought it was a town but it’s actually a good sized city with almost 500,000 inhabitants.  It’s a short city though, with no true skyscrapers and a lot of adobe roofs, so it’s very monochromatic nestled at the base of the mountains.

Our next stop was Quenco which is known for its mysterious cave that is thought to have been used to enbalm and mummify the dead.  That the Incas were smart enough to realize that a deep dark cave with limestone slabs would be cold enough to do that kind of work and do it before the bodies rot is pretty impressive.  But getting the stone up into the hills where they built with it is quite a feat too.

Then it was off to Pukapukara which was meant to be a lookout for the Incas to keep watch and be warned of incoming evildoers.  About all they could do if anyone nasty approached though was club them or use a sling shot on them, as nothing else has been found in terms of Incan weaponry.  But given how high up the lookout is, it gave an advantage to the Incas, knowing that someone was coming long before they actually arrived.

Pisac market was our next stop, where there was stall after stall of Peruvian crafts and handiwork.  I fell hard for some jewelry (of course) and a woven wool tapestry of cats that I had to have.  There are a LOT of alpaca products out there and it will be near impossible not to splurge on a sweater or something.  There are a lot of small mats made of alpaca that have Maisie and Simon written all over them.  I’d of course have to get two to keep the peace.  It was amazing to see how many handmade things are made here.

I am hoping what we did as we left the market doesn’t come back to bite me.  But Armando bought me street corn from a vendor at the entrance to the market.  It was a huge cob that was in a large vat of boiling water.  She pulled it out and put it in a husk and we ate it just like we do at home.  It was sweet and crunchy and really good.  I just hope I don’t end up sick from it.  I just wasn’t thinking and really wanted to try it.  Fingers crossed.

Lunch was at a hotel that offered up a wonderful buffet.  I’d already found the quinoa (created here) and polenta with three types of spicy salsa and sauces when Wilman told me about the ceviche on the other side of the room.  Damn.  Nothing worse than loading up one plate to only go and load up another.  I had more great ceviche and causera, which is mashed potato stuffed with avocado.  The avocado here is so good.  And potatoes are ubiquitous.  Armando said that there are hundreds of types of potato here.  And corn too.

On our way to our last stop, Armando had Wilman pull over to the side of the road.  We bailed out of the car on a two-way highway and crossed the street.  We came upon one of many cacti that I’ve seen here.  Armando wanted to show me what looked like a white fungus growing on the paddle of the cactus.  He scraped some of it off and flipped it over and I saw a tiny black beetle.  The beetle, he said, was feeding off the sap of the cactus.  And with that, he smooshed the beetle in his hand, revealing a gorgeous deep crimson dye that is used to color alpaca yarn.  I was amazed that he knew that and cared enough to stop to show me.  He also showed me a large plant called a “century plant” because it only blooms once in its life and then withers away.  It has a large bulb at the bottom that contains a sweet juice used at home.  We know it best as a blue agave plant or a “tequila plant”.  Very cool.

Another “almost” stop was in some town on the way known for the high quality of their cuy, or guinea pig.  Armando mumbled something to Wilman and the next thing I know we’ve pulled over and some local lady is running over to the car with a guinea pig impaled on a broomstick, having just suffered the spit roasting of its little life.  I remember seeing herbs like rosemary and thyme sticking out of the stomach.  Armando encouraged me to get out but I was 1) traumatized from the sight of it all and 2) I don’t eat meat!  So off we went. But I appreciate them trying.

Finally we arrived at Ollantaytambo.  This is a very small town in the Sacred Valley with an incredible spread of Incan ruins.  I’d read that it is really underrated by many, but I had no idea how crazy good it would be.  When you approach it, you first see a series of reinforcing terraces leading up the mountain to some obvious building, which turns out to be the Temple of the Sun.  (See, the Incas were really all about the sun, there are temples to it everywhere and they made a point of paying homage to it by paying attention to when it rises every day). But after first examination, it dawned on me that the terraces spread farther right than at first glance, that there are building built high up into the side of the mountain and even “storage units” for fresh vegetables on the other side of the main lot in front of the ruins.  They’re everywhere.  And if I’d known that this was this vast, and this interesting, and this amazing, I’d have booked a full day here just to hike this all (after getting past the acclimatization).  It’s nuts.

The climb up all those steps wasn’t horrible.  It took maybe 15 minutes with two stops on the way.  I’ve done longer and more torturous step mill workouts at the gym, but at sea level. I didn’t break a sweat but I was certainly feeling my age, or maybe just lack of oxygen.  Along the way Armando would have anecdotes about how many people it took and how long to build this, where the stone came from, how it came here.  It’s purpose was a “resting area” for pilgrims making their way to Machu Picchu, but it also became a fortress and lookout at various points in the region’s history.  The views from the top weren’t anything spectacular but the satisfaction of having done it was worth it.  The stone work is stunning, how every stone is perfectly carved to fit the ones around it.  Cooler still was that I could see the upper reaches of most of the ruins right from the grounds of my hotel.  The locals here can see this all the time!

After the ruins, Armando and Wilman dropped me back at my hotel.  The Pakaritampu is quite lovely. There are a few houses on the property that each have five or so rooms.  There’s a reception building and a restaurant and bar building. The grounds are lusciously manicured and gardened with a beautiful array of flowers.  It’s a 3 minute walk to the train station and about 10 minutes up to the main square, which I did once I was alone.  The highlight of that journey was the ice cream I got on the way (cappuccino and Cusco chocolate in a cup) and being able to see the sun go down on the ruins.  The rest was a near death experience.  There are no sidewalks and the streets are narrow, so getting around on foot is dangerous.  Once I got up into the town there was no where I’d want to chance eating at, so I made a loop around the square and  headed back to the hotel.  Thankfully I can eat in the restaurant there.

After a bit of a rest in my room, I headed over to the restaurant for dinner.  No one was in there yet but I could be seated anywhere and they were ready to serve.  I ordered a quinoa vegetable soup and the most un-Peruvian dish of veggie lasagna (I am craving veggies big time, plus I’d already had ceviche today!). I also ordered my now usual Pisco sour.  

(Pisco sour, by the way, is a local drink made of Pisco, which is a local grape brandy, lemon juice, simple syrup and an egg white for the foam on top.  It’d be a great hot weather drink at home, very refreshing!)

No sooner had my Pisco sour been delivered than an elderly couple came in and of all the other 88 seats they could have sat in this 90-seat capacity room, where do you think they sat?  You got it, right next to me.  So for the next 45 minutes I had to listen to this woman complain to her husband not only about this trip, but every other trip they’ve ever taken.  She was to me everything I worry about becoming as I get older.  To top it off they were American, surprise?!?  Ugh.  So to numb the pain I asked for “uno mas” Pisco sour.  Why not? I’m on vacation.  Dinner was delicious though and it was a joy to just cross the lawn back to my room.

One thing that is immediately noticeable here is the number of dogs out on the streets.  I assumed at first that they were all strays, but when I asked Armando, he said that people here keep them as pets and let them out to wander all day and call them in at night.  Cats are kept as pets too, but aren’t let outside.  Funny how that’s the opposite of what we see at home.  My mind is tired from all the things I’m learning!

Up early tomorrow to head to Machu Picchu, finally!

Sunday morning musings

Sunday, May 27

Sunday morning musings...since I was asleep by 9:30 and up at 6:00 (quite possibly the longest contiguous sleep I’ve had since my medical leave) it’s 7:30 a.m. and I’m already showered, packed, breakfasted and I’ve been on a walk to hit an ATM.

A few things I noticed or learned yesterday:

This whole thing about cuy, or guinea pig, is mildly upsetting for a vegetarian.  It’s been 4 years now since I’ve eaten meat so it’s not like I never did or I don’t appreciate it, but a guinea pig is meant to be a pet.  I dug a little deeper on this Peruvian speciality and Armando said that they are the meal of choice for the birthday boy or girl, even into adulthood.  I asked how they are raised and he said that each kitchen would have a pen in it where they are raised.  Somehow I just thought it would be more impersonal if you had to go and buy it at the store.  But no, you raise it in your kitchen and one day, whack!  You decide it’s dinner.

But the guinea pig fascination goes way back.  In the main cathedral yesterday, I saw a painting of the Last Supper, which was a pretty typical depiction of Jesus and his apostles gathered round a table.  Except the platter in the center of the table had a guinea pig, four legs up, ripe for eating.

Armando, our driver and I had an interesting conversation about the food here and how it is all fresh and organic for the most part and that’s why obesity doesn’t seem to be a problem.  Indeed, it’s hard to find junk food, or not as easy to find junk food as it is in other places in the world (I’m looking at you U.K. Newsagents and your ridiculously tempting British chocolate).  I have no worries about gaining weight on this trip.  Unless I eat about 80 gallons of ceviche at every meal it’s really unlikely.  Armando couldn’t believe that our culture in the U.S. has sunken so low as to have the likes of “My 600 Pound Life” and that the problem exists to that extreme.  I haven’t seen anyone even remotely chunky here.

I’ve had no problems with altitude so far, which I attribute to taking the Diamox since Thursday.  I was winded coming up the steps to the third floor of the hotel the first time but since then I just take it slow.

The pisco sour was divine.  It would be the perfect summertime drink at home: light and slightly fruity and sweet with an egg white foam.  I enjoyed it.  And will enjoy a few more when I get the chance.

Breakfast this morning was scrambled eggs and toast (with golden berry marmalade) and a glass of passion fruit juice.  I was going to get a Starbucks on my wandering but it wasn’t open yet so I’m nursing a hotel coffee here in my room.

In my attempt to keep my camera bag light for my day trips, I’m jamming a lot more stuff into my suitcase.  It’s at the boiling point, so I’m leaving my hot weather gear here in my backpack.  I’ll be back on Tuesday to stay for 2 nights, so I’ll catch up with it then.  I’ll deal with getting it all back in there later.

I will definitely not gain weight here

Saturday, May 26

I’m fairly certain LATAM factored this into their flight schedule, but we boarded the plane at 10:30 and didn’t get cleared to leave until 11:28.  We landed at 12:20 in Cuzco, which is only 20 minutes later than scheduled.  I got the distinct impression that this happens.  A lot.  The good news is that the airport is tiny.  It’s nestled between the mountains and is only one one runway.  Landing here was interesting because I spied the runway from the sky and we looped around the mountains to line up with it and tuck down in between the biggest peaks.  Heart attack time, not for the fearful!  By the time I’d deplaned from my row 28 seat and used the restroom, my luggage was already coming around on the carousel.  Hallelujah.

At the airport I was met by Maria, who was essentially a fixer for Inka Natura, the company I am traveling with.  She had a driver take us to my hotel near the main square and cathedral in Cuzco.  I had a cup of coca tea (to counteract any effects of the altitude, we’re at 12,000 feet here) and waited to check in.  She gave me a great map with some recommendations for meals nearby and said she’d meet me with my guide after lunch.  And off she went

The hotel is nice.  The location is right off the square and it’s pretty quiet.  The square itself is pedestrian only which is nice.  There are two big churches and a bunch of shops and restaurants hidden beneath a really nice wooden facade that evokes another era.  I ate at Inka Grill where I had pumpkin soup and a mixed vegetable salad with tomatoes, egg, beets, artichokes and a whole load of avocado which was so good.  I learned very quickly that it’s hard to find a bad-for-you meal here.  Everything is fresh and not junky, it all feels healthy, which I suppose is a good thing.

My guide for the rest of my stay in the Sacred Valley is Armando.  He’s a very sweet guy who clearly loves his subject matter.  He also loves to take pictures, so I have about 50 of me at all the places we went to today!  That will be great at Machu Picchu!  We started out in the main square, Plaza de Armas where he gave a history of the square and the Inca king commemorated by a statue there.  Then we went into the main cathedral of Cuzco which was just gorgeous.  We entered through the chapel, which was mind-blowing enough with it’s beautiful ornate gilded altar and the doll-like statues of the Virgin and angels.  Then we branched off into the main church and it was even prettier.  The problem is though that this wasn’t original Incan, but rather influenced by the Spanish who came in the 1500s or so and basically destroyed whatever they could while looting for gold and silver.    The main altar in the church was silver and just spectacular to see.  We walked around a bit there and saw the catacombs beneath the altar and the Christ of the Earthquakes.  Now this one is a great story...

Back in 1650 or so, there was a massive earthquake in the Cuzco area.   People were freaking out.  Then they took this statue of Christ on the cross down and proceeded through the square with it and the earthquake stopped.  So they think it has magical powers and they continue to do the processional every year on Easter Monday.  That they’ve had earthquakes since then doesn’t seem to deter the believers.

From there we walked to Qorikancha, which is a temple to the sun.  This was another place that got built over, this time by the Dominicans.  Armando was funny though, he showed me the walls of what is left of the original Incan complex and said that it is “Incan Legos” because no mortar or cement was used, just an interlocking stonework.  It was fascinating to learn that given how tightly set the rocks are.  It’s also another one of those places, like Newgrange and Stonehenge, where on a certain day, in this case, the summer solstice, the sun would stream into a strategically placed window on to the golden chair where the Incan king would be sitting.  How they managed to get that right and also build walls and the like that last forever is really quite an achievement.

After that we drove up to Sachsayhuaman (pronounced “sexy woman”, which is a little odd to keep hearing over and over again!). This is a megalithic complex built of limestone. It wasn’t meant to be a complex but became one when the Incans fled central Cuzco and took cover up there on the hill in Sachsayhuaman.  This was another one of those architectural wonders that made you question how on earth they got this done with no heavy machinery.  I was dwarfed by it all and yet they managed to get the rock here, prop it up and stack it so that it never topples somehow.  For hundreds upon hundreds of years.

Armando and our driver brought me back to the hotel and I went to get some water and an Inca Kola (soft drink) for later.  You can’t use the sink water even to brush your teeth, so bottled water is a must even for that.

Dinner tonight was at Limo’s, another restaurant that Maria recommended.  I really wanted to try ceviche, and I did!  I had a Pisco sour to start (acclimatizing to the altitude be damned!) with a cold mashed potato with a hot miso ceviche on top (this was a fusion Peruvian-Japanese restaurant, I should add) and then I had ceviche which is just raw fish marinated in lime juice and with really spicy chili pepper.  It was awesome.  And again, the whole meal felt really healthy.  I’m certainly getting my protein.

Caught some kind of Peruvian dance show in the square on the way back to the hotel which I watched for a few minutes, but to be honest I was dead tired and freezing cold.  As nice as the afternoon was in the 60s, it drops to the 30s overnight.  I have the heat cranked in the room right now.  Up early for an 8 am start.

Arrived

Friday, May 25, Part 2

Quite possibly the smartest thing I ever did was to call and change that flight from Boston to Fort Lauderdale.  My instinct paid off because the flight I was meant to be on didn’t leave Boston until after I was boarding the flight to Lima.  Oh brother, that would have been fatal.  But no worries, I made the Lima flight with plenty of time to spare and even got to choke down the one vegetarian offering in the entire Fort Lauderdale airport.  Food Network Kitchen has a passable black bean and rice burger with fries, in case you ever need to know.

The flight to Lima was harmless.  I dozed off and on while binge watching 13 Reasons Why (highly recommend, the soundtrack alone is worth it).  We arrive pretty much on time and it was a smooth flight overall.  I was thrilled to find my long-unused knowledge of Spanish is kicking in pretty quickly and accurately as I was able to chat with an older couple in line with me last night.  JetBlue was looking for 7 volunteers to stay another night in Florida since the weight of all the checked luggage was beyond what is permissible.  Their offers started at $200 and last we heard the takers fell for $800.  We were talking about how crazy that is.  They actually held boarding until they had the volunteers.  It probably would have been smarter for them to control the checked luggage, but hey, who am I?

It was easy enough to deplane and get to Immigration.  There’s a customs form they give you which itemizes what you’re allowed to bring into the country, like 2 cameras, 2 cell phones, 4 memory cards (OOOPS...) Anything more than that and you have to pay duty, even if it’s for personal use.  I’m pretty sure I have about 7 memory cards, but sue me.

In the Immigration line there was a guy right behind me, sort of flashily dressed with dark hair and large black glasses.  He was clearly of South American descent but no one was giving him a second glance.  He got out ahead of me and I saw him hit the sidewalk to be surrounded immediately by a security contingent and swarmed by a bunch of girls screaming “OH MY GOD” and “PHOTO PLEASE PHOTO” in Spanish.  So he was someone.  A Google search proved useless.  I inadvertently had a brush with fame.

The Wyndham hotel I stayed at for the overnight is quite literally across the street from the terminal, not even a 2 minute walk.  It was quiet for the most part, as flights seemed to stop overnight.  I was at my hotel and in bed within an hour of landing (Immigration ate up most of that).  When flights started up in the wee hours though, every time a plane took off or landed, it would set a car alarm off right outside the hotel.  Annoying.  I think I got maybe 6 hours of sleep which should be ok to get by.

A really nice employee at the hotel showed me where I had to go for Departures (again, right across the street but right instead of left) and said I would have to check my luggage if it is over 8KG.  My regular carryon is 13.5KG so there it went.  I will now spend the flight to Cuzco praying it makes it with me.  I have my camera, iPad and iPhone with me, along with glasses and medication.  I’ve spent the hour I have here checking out the shopping (Alpaca wool, jewelry) and drinking a Starbucks iced coffee (bought my thermal travel mug for the collection!)

I’ve been taking the anti-altitude sickness medication for 2 days now, as directed.  I hit Cuzco today and spend a day there at 12,000+ feet.  I’ve been mildly concerned about all the warnings about how to acclimate, but I guess we see today how I do.

Flight to Cuzco in an hour.  Back on the other side.

The week leading up to departure

Friday, May 25

As usual, I did my very best to work myself up into a lather in the week leading up to the trip.  Last week I was sick, some sort of post-NYC trip fatigue and almost-headcold had me feeling like ass until 2 days ago.  But that passed.

Over the weekend I noticed that my layover in Fort Lauderdale, which I though I had scheduled to be 3 hours or so, was only 80 minutes.  And landing mid-afternoon in FLL at this time of year is dodgy, with all the thunderstorms around (as I know from my Miami Spinning Conference days).  So I called JetBlue Monday morning to try to change to an earlier flight.  The change fee plus difference in fare was $550 but I convinced myself that getting there 5 hours early for the flight to Lima was worth the peace of mind and not losing a day in Peru.  Then I mentioned to the phone rep that I thought maybe the schedule had changed because I’d never allow such a short layover.  And voila! They had changed my flights and now that the change was their doing and not mine, the flight change was free!  So that passed.

Then I spent three days ruminating on all things snake and fearing the absolute worst out of my trip to the Amazon.  I remember the beginnings of this trip, as I was on medical leave last fall and taking my wildlife conservation class with Jane Goodall.  She was the one that encouraged me to experience another ecosystem and body of wildlife.  She also seemed, in her stories, seemingly fearless of snakes.  “Leave them alone and they’ll leave you alone,” I remember her saying.  Nevertheless I worked myself up into a great case of intestinal distress turning to dread yesterday.  Had I made a terrible mistake doing this?  Is it worth the anxiety? Somehow I talked myself down (a gin and tonic likely helped) and I slept well and woke up this morning ready to go.  So that passed.  (Sort of)

I’d just showered this morning when I found the notification from JetBlue that my 10 a.m. flight will now leave at 11:45, but that I should still get to the airport on time for the 10 a.m. flight.  So a flight delay indeed has happened, but I still have a 3 hour cushion in Fort Lauderdale if all things go as planned right now.  If I’d been on the later flight, I’d be weeping in my cold brew right now.

I am excited to see a new country, a new continent, a new ecosystem or two.  I’m thrilled beyond belief to go to Machu Picchu and I struggle to wrap my head around what it’ll look like.  I want to use my Spanish (how rusty can it be?) and meet the people.  It’s just that every place new to me pushes me outside my comfort zone, and I think as I get older that adds a level of stress.  I think of someone like my travel-idol Anthony Bourdain and how EVERY trip he takes is new to him (mostly).  How does he do this trip after trip?  How is he not in a chronic state of anxiety/trip stress/intestinal distress?  It’s been a while since I’ve been somewhere entirely new to me.  That was 2013 when I first went to Africa and I remember the same anxiety which has now been replaced with a longing and a passion that I have for no other place.  And this stress cropped up for China before that, and Russia before that.  I know I overcome this and will likely love the hell out of it.  This is why I work, this is why I do what I do.  I love to travel and experience what’s out there for us.

It’s 3 hours from here to Fort Lauderdale, a 3 hour layover and then 5 1/2 hours to Lima.  I should be in bed around midnight, schedule gods and prevailing winds considered.

And then there is Kenya....

While all my mental energies have been focused on thinking about and worrying about Peru, there's the promise of Kenya still 6+ months off.  Everything is booked but for the airfare to JFK to catch the flight to Nairobi from there.  I was waiting for JetBlue to open up their dates that far out as my preference is always to go with them. 

When JetBlue finally opened the dates, I was faced with a conundrum. With a noontime departure out of JFK, is it possible/smart/risky to fly down that morning from Boston? Sure, in November, we shouldn't have to think about weather or other seasonal delays.  But this being New England and me being me, I worried.  And then I started to feel like I really ought to go down the day before and be there, building in a buffer that would allow me to get there some other way if I had to (train, bus, drive myself).  So that's when I realized the smart thing is to fly down the night before and get a hotel room at JFK.  Sure this is an added expense of an essentially lost vacation day and a $200 room that eats into my savings on the incredible Kenya Airways fare, but I've spent the last 4 days-of-departure for safari literally refreshing the Logan Airport webpage for blizzard-related delays and cancellations.  It's intestinal distress I don't need.  So I'm doing it.  I just hate to burn that day off...

Everything else is pretty much in order for that.  It's old hat now, with a packing list and standard routines and rituals.  I'll just need to re-fill my anti-malarial and off I go.  My camps are booked (and they are STELLAR, I'm so excited) and my private visit to the Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage is reserved.  Now it's just the waiting.

As the journey to Peru approaches

As the days tick off and I get closer to leaving for Peru, there's a fair amount of anxiety slipping in.  It take a certain amount of willpower to talk myself through it, because "it", I remind myself, is purely fear of the unknown, or rather, fear of what I'm reading that I cannot confirm or deny for myself.  I remind myself that I felt this way before China, before Russia, before Africa.  And all of those ended up being completely innocuous for the most part.  Heck, Africa now is second nature to me.  Who'd have thought that?

Part of what contributes to the anxiety is due to my hunger for information and reading everything I can get my hands on.  Where this gets me into trouble is when I read too much on internet forums.  Just in the last week I've read about:

• Pirates on the Amazon.  I kid you not.  They board boats and rob people.  My immediate thought is about my little canoe excursions, upwards of 24 hours of them over 5 days.  Pirates?  Ahoy matey?
• Snakes.  I mean I kind of sort of expect them in the Amazon, but they're in Africa too and I haven't seen one yet (knock wood).  That Hiram Bingham himself saw them, and "chasing" snakes too, is concerning.
• Midges or no-see-ums in Cusco and Machu Picchu.  The stories about people being nastily attacked by these "worse than 'squitos" bugs is horrifying.  Months of itching and scars, no repellent is good enough, no anti-itch treatment works.  ARGH!
• The "is there or isn't there" argument about a upcharge for non-Peruvian citizens that you're surprised by when you get to the airport for a domestic flight.  Argh again.
• Altitude sickness.  Sure I have been prescribed Diamox by my travel clinic but what if I'm one of the ones it doesn't work for, or it makes me sick?  Dang.

Now it could be that all that is a lot of bluster and perhaps good things to know but that I'll never have to act on.  Maybe I can better focus my attention on other things.  To wit:

I bought a life preserver for my iPhone.  No, seriously.  If I drop it in the river, it'll float on the surface in all its fluorescent orange glory.  I wish I could find similar for my new camera, but I'll just have to be super smart about it.

I also bought a packable backpack to downsize my already small carry-on-sized luggage into.  Apparently on these little canoes and even the train to Machu Picchu you can't take anything even close to full-sized luggage.  And here I thought I was doing well going all carry-on.

Seriously contemplating my wardrobe for this trip and it looks like I need to plan for at least two.  Six days will be spent in the Sacred Valley, which has a low average temp of 30 and high of 50, the last five days in the Amazon with a low of 75 and high in the 90s, but for the occasional "Arctic blast" that blows through this time of year and drops everything to the 50s.  Really.  Now that's a challenge.  Layers I guess?

Looking at all that, I suppose you could say that I'm trying to control what I can control.  And what I can't will just be part of the adventure.