Lima, December 19, 1995
I could see the white mountaintops from inside the plane. They seemed to be within the reach of my hands, so beautiful in their untouched coldness. I love Peru, and the thought of the forthcoming weeks promptly took away this inner numbness in me. Only he who is willing to give up his dreams will learn what life really is about.
Lima, December 20, 1995
Those idiots. They'll never understand what's really going on. Forms over forms, I only wrote what their little minds were capable of understanding; the kind of reality they wanted to hear of. The truth is locked within me, I am getting excited now that I am here, every delay causes pains.
Lima, December 21, 1995
They came and insisted on an escort. For my security, but this lie was just as ridiculous as mine. They distrust me, because they don't understand. Because they don't even understand that part of truth I offered them. Maybe they suspect there's a different reality, but they lack the imagination needed to see it.
Vilcabamba, December 25, 1995
Three days on the bus. Pedro turned out to be useful, because he shielded me from others. I may look calm, but inside I am trembling with expectations. Tomorrow morning we'll leave Vilcabamba by foot. I am getting prepared for a night without sleep.
Andes, December 26, 1995
My silence irritates him and makes him helpless. I tell him that the walk in these heights weakens me and that I have to save my energy. He doesn't believe me. I don't care. I feel my strength grow. At noon we left the forest belt, around us now tough grass. It's getting cold and I put a blanket around my shoulder. At night we build our contemporary camp beside a steep rock. With the wood we brought Pedro makes a little fire. We cook some coffee. I drink three cups, knowing that it'll be the last hot drink for the next few weeks for me. He watches me as I write. Tomorrow our way will differ from the route we had agreed upon.
Andes, December 27, 1995
He refused to go the different direction. Only when I showed my determination to walk on all alone, he followed me. Behind my back I could feel his fear - his fear to come back without me, and also the fear of what lies in front of us. At noon we reached the snow belt.
What is fear? A ridiculous and childish emotion, that keeps us dependent. It's not danger that destroys life, but fear. We better kill the fear, before it kills us.
No fire tonight. It's cold, and my fingers are getting stiff while writing.
Andes, December 28, 1995
Last night he secretly read my notes. I considered to punish him right there, but then decided to pretend I am asleep. He is no threat, and there won't be any chance for him to let anybody know what he read. I doubt he understands the meaning of what he read anyhow.
Again no fire tonight. But this is our last night. If my documents are correct - and I don't doubt them -, I'll reach my destination tomorrow. I know another sleepless night is lying ahead of me. Expectations are a burning fever in my veins.
Andes/Catacombs, 29. December, 1995
The big gate. We reached it at noon. Wolves solved the problem Pedro for me.
The gate closed behind me. I am all on my own now. Since noon endless catacombs, some wrong ways, but at night I arrived at a little settlement. Testimony of a civilisation that has vanished 500 years ago. Above me are small openings covered with thin ice, which let in just enough light. I am thankful not having to use my lamp for the moment.
I settled down for the night in a smaller room. It's not as cold here as outside. There is a small pool with clear water; I'll try tomorrow if it's drinkable. A strange kind of scent everywhere, it smells like mould, only mingled with a touch of sweet. Before going to sleep I'll look again at my documents about Qualopec, although I know them by heart.
Village in Catacombs, December 30, 1995
Searched all day for signs of the Tomb of Qualopec. The settlement is larger than I had expected. The water is almost completely insipid, but apparently drinkable, which I am very grateful for. Drinkable water is always a problem. Had strange dreams last night.
Village in Catacombs, December 31
Wolves and bats. I found a peculiar plate in a wall; maybe it's a door. I didn't succeed to decrypt the mechanism behind. I am aware that the Incas protected the tombs of their chiefs with ingenious traps.
Against my habit I laid down for some sleep at noon. 2 hrs. of restless sleep, full of dreams.
They say the Incas of the highlands made use of hallucinogenic mushrooms to protect their tombs. I don't believe it.
Village in Catacombs, January 1
I feel free and strong. At noon laid down again, 3 hrs. of restless sleep. What a waste of time, won't do it again. The pool is deep; to my surprise I found several caves at the bottom. Explored some of them, as far as the cold of the water allowed this without a diving equipment. On my list for tomorrow are the next two caves. It was a strain, laid down before dusk. I feel as good as never before.
What is loneliness? Absence of illusions.
Village in Catacombs, January 2
Last night I dreamed of dad. He was tall and smiled. He took me in his strong hands.
After a very rudimentary breakfast I explored the west-sector and found the key to the door. Exploring exhausted me completely, had to lie down before noon. Again a restless sleep full of dreams. When I awoke, dusk had set in. I'll open the door tomorrow. I feel incredibly fine.
Village in Catacombs, January 3
Again dreamed of dad. He was tender and prodigal. His breath is giving infinite power, his arms are the cradle of life, his eyes are kindness. I am unworthy.
I opened the door, a wave of pure knowledge struck me and lifted me up, and I was floating, thru timeless rooms towards the eternal call. The light is blinding me. Happiness is the only truth, it unites Gods and slaves. I have to be prepared before I face HIM.
I found HIS Tomb. It was empty, but that's just what I expected. I have to get prepared. It is so bright, I have to close my eyes. HE is waiting, but I am weak. I have to prove worthyness.
January 12, HIS Tomb
HE raised his voice. I have always known it. HE showed me the way to himself, although I am unworthy I felt no shame. I follow HIS call, which is my destiny. Happiness is a term too weak to express what I feel.
HIS Palace, HIS Refuge, February?
HE opened the door for me. HE had been waiting for me. My heart in HIS chest in an everlasting alliance.
I am ready, for dying is living, and living is dying, in this eternal alliance with HIM. But HE says I have to go now. HE says they will come and search for me. HE says they will find the Tomb, and finally they will find HIS refuge. HE says they will separate us forever, and because of that I have to go now.
I don't have the strength needed.
In HIS light, February
I am weak. HE rejects me in HIS infinite wisdom, I have to go back one last time, I have to tear myself from his warmth and face the cold. One last time.
--- In HIS light, somewhere in eternity
I am weak. HE says HE will wait, because we are our destiny for eternity. I closed the door of his refuge. They must never find this door.
The door of HIS Tomb I left open, it was HIS will in HIS infinite wisdom.
February 3, in the village
The cold water revives my senses. I am weak. I eat those strange fruits, they are bitter, but I live.
February 5, in the Andes
Wolves don't taste too good, but they helped me to survive. I reached the forest-belt, something, which I almost didn't expect.
February 10, Lima
They interrogated me for hours, although they insisted on calling me "their guest". They weren't really interested in Pedro's fate. I refused to tell them the exact position of the site.
February 11, Lima
After intervention of the Ambassador they finally let me go. The chance of foreign exchange did convince them, they agreed on cooperation with a British team.
At 8 pm I'll leave by plane. As soon as my mission at home is finished I'll come back. My destiny is due to be fulfilled.