Sunrise was at 5 am, finding no reason to stay in our tent, still wet from the nights downpour and ready to go we left the small clearing and started down the actual trail leading to Choquequirao. My small toe had begun to rub against my boots the previous day and I was worried enough about it to ask Blake for an extra pair of socks and put them on as well, so we had to stop for a minute. The old mule man that we had just passed walked by and asked what was wrong, we said all was well and continued on when I was ready.Soon after that we came upon a tarantula standing still in the middle of the path, it never moved, people even told us about it later in the day, maybe it was frozen or something, we couldn't say. Also along the way to the bottom of the hill we met a couple of local Peruvians who wanted photo ops with us, so of course we obliged.Next we came upon two Canadian hikers who told us we could make it all the way to the top of the ruins in one go, but it was really quite steep and we would be dead the next day. After that we met a troop of British ex patriots living in Texas who said essentially the same thing, they also told us that there was a really nice camp before the ruins where there was good food and great views, and so we continued on down the mountain.Finally making it to the river at the bottom, we came upon a large government run camp where we signed in and asked the old man working there if he could help us with cooking the potatoes we got back in Cochora, he did and we helped him dehusk his corn. When we bought water from him it was 10 s/ for a 2.5 liter bottle, 3 times the normal price, I was confused at first and even tried to argue the point but his wizened old eyes just glazed over with a tired, unhappy look and I swallowed my tongue. Blake looked at me with lowered eye brows and said cynically, "What did you expect, were in the mountains, it's Disneyland prices.."Our potatoes were finished and I grabbed the biggest one we had and chomped down skin and all, while Blake got a couple small ones and removed the skin, mimicking oma's voice he said, "Danny, tell Blake to peel the potatoes.." just as she did all those years ago in Germany. We laughed and continued to eat. Very soon after I began to feel heavy in my stomach. A German couple walked into camp just as we were about to ascend to the top, they said we were crazy to climb in the hottest part of the day, this made us reconsider so We walked over the cliffs edge that dropped down to the river and sat there talking about our trip, our families and our lives here in South America.A few hours later we packed up, left one of our packs with the old man and headed up across the suspension bridge and to the seemingly endless switchbacks that followed. I was quickly overtaken by the heaviness in my stomach and was struggling to keep up with Blake, even though all I had to carry was the little fanny pack that disconnected from his big one. "come on Danny, you can die when we get to the next camp, just get there and die, die.." feeling the urge to vomit every "die"he uttered I asked him to refrain from any more talk of death and we continued on.We turned the corner of a long switch back and I was ready to collapse, Blake was standing in the path ahead of me without his pack on and shouted "come on were here finish with some class!" I entered the camp, ignored the old lady there greeting us and proceeded to throw up all over the rocks beside here camp. The water here was 12 soles...We set up our tent and a couple from the Netherlands joined us.The Lady made us all soup, I did my best to drink the broth but had to excuse myself to vomit yet again, she made me coca leaf tea with herbs but it didn't really help me. When night fell and i was still throwing up she kept calling me out of bed, I didn't feel like doing much of anything, plus I didn't understand what she was saying, luckily though the dutch girl translated from inside her own tent, "she wants you to drink something.."I crawled out of our tent and went over to the edge of the rocks where she handed me a large cup of clear liquid with strange herbs in it, I took a large swig and immediately cranked my neck to the side at the strength of the brew, "this is tequila!" I shouted, "sii! es Tequila!~haha" She chuckled. She said something else and again our dutch friend translated from the darkness, "she says it will kill whatever is in your stomach." Knowing the power of this vile substance I closed my eyes tight and finished what must have been 5 to 7 shots of tequila mixed with herbs unknown.I thanked her for the drink, she laughed solidly and patted me on the shoulder, returning to her witches hut hidden in the darkness beyond our tents. I too returned to my abode and feeling quite relaxed all of a sudden fell quickly to sleep...