Huanchaco, Peru — June.

Nadia sat on the grey sand of Huanchaco beach in north-west Peru, watching the remaining surfers fight for the last waves as the sun inched towards the horizon in a red and gold glow. Shadows filled the world. The jetty, reed watercraft and surfers were black silhouettes against the sky and deep-blue water. Seaweed, freshly caught fish and the scraps of decaying flesh left on hooks scented the air. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her chin on her knees and thought about the journey so far.

The previous months had been a slow meander. A winding path through Colombia and its departments, cities and towns, culminating in an exit by bus through the guerrilla-ridden north-west. The route was not encouraged by Lonely Planet or the Australian Government's Smart-Traveller website. But it was a calculated risk since they had wanted to cross into Ecuador via Ipiales. One that paid off in dividends.

The Las Lajas Sanctuary was a gothic cathedral of white spires and slate stone spanning a gorge in the middle of lush jungle. Ecstatic about the new and unique addition to his website, Khai had toiled tirelessly, snapping away on his camera and drafting words to recount the dangers of his journey in third person prose. Exploring the structure with Nadia had not been a priority.

Next stop was Quito. A picturesque colonial city she had immediately fallen madly in love with — and out of love just as quickly, courtesy of rampant theft. In a state of shock, she had given chase to the wide-eyed boy who stole her iPad right from under her nose as she sat in an Old Town coffee shop. A perfect first day. The second highest capital city in the world was fine for walking in, but not for running. The little shit got away, and a passing nun scolded her in rapid Spanish when she shouted profanities. It hadn't helped her mood. Nor had Khai's lecture. Quito lost its shine. But prepaid Spanish classes forced her to stay.

Three days later, Khai was mugged. Poetic justice and a rite of passage — or so said other backpackers behind poorly hidden smirks. They had weeks to pass before Khai's new bank cards arrived in Lima, prompting a discussion about finances. Khai suggested they use her remaining savings first, his travel card next and finally, he would unlock his term deposit. She would have nothing to worry about.

"Plus, KhaiPod is pulling in some bucks now. What do you think, babe?" he'd said.

Nadia had thought this was the least he could do after two-and-a-half years together and all his promises of 'always.' She'd held her tongue on those points and instead said, "Sure," hesitated a moment, then added, "After all, I trust you."

Khai's gaze had locked on hers. "I hope so."

And so, she had guarded her iPhone as if it were a prized artefact from Quito's El San Francisco monastery and learned some polite Spanish phrases.

The rest of Ecuador redeemed itself with adventure and magic. A bull chased them down the slopes of the Pichincha volcano, there were cloud forests to explore and fireflies to light the road as the bus wove its way through the foothills toward the Peruvian border.

"Woof!"

A bark pulled her back into the present where a pack of dogs trotted along the beach before her, their mouths wide open and noses high, blissfully soaking up the moment with their senses.

Nadia stuck out her right hand, clicking her fingers and tongue to gain their attention. She knew better. The risk of rabies and other diseases was real, but right then she didn't care. Loneliness seemed much worse. The four dogs stopped and looked at her. Down the beach, men called out, and the spell was interrupted. The canines looked in the direction, sniffed and ran towards the noise.

One remained, the smaller of the quorum. It was scruffy with short, dark hair. Tail wagging, he darted over and proceeded to lick her face. Nadia mussed its scratchy fur, and her body heated with the warmth of genuine affection. The canine had a gloss to its pelt — despite the scratches and scabs that pocked its skin — and was a healthy weight. Someone cared for him at least.

She scratched behind its ears, and a tingle passed from its head to tail until a broken tennis ball grabbed the canine's attention. It scampered off and returned with the torn rubber dangling from its mouth.

Nadia threw. The ball angled sharply away from the spot she aimed. The dog flicked its body into the air and chased. She played with her little companion for some time, taking meditative pleasure in the wind on her skin and the gentle roar of the ocean, until the shadows deepened into twilight and the air cooled.

She shivered and stood, brushing the sand off her backside, then stretched her arms and massaged her shoulders. Grains of sand covered the underside of the dented surfboard she'd rented. It felt heavy in her hands, not like her one back home.

The small dog followed her across the road and the short distance along the esplanade to her hostel. Its tail whipped back and forth as it gazed up at her in adoration.

Nadia stopped outside a square concrete building. Flags from various countries hung from the first-floor balcony, flapping in the evening breeze, audible even over the chatter of the twenty-somethings relaxing on lounge chairs below them. One of the guys waved, and she waved back.

The dog barked. Nadia smiled and ruffled his head. He yipped, turned on his heel and headed back to the shore.

"Bye, little fella."

Nadia took her board around the back of the building, rinsed off and set about the task of wrestling free of the tight wetsuit, almost tripping in the process. Done, she tiptoed up the stairs in her bikini and made for their dormitory, peering around corners to avoid any company. To her relief, the room was empty. She hurried across to her backpack.

"You're here."

Nadia turned, shivering, her hands full of shower items.

Khai walked into the room.

She moved forward to kiss him. "Hey."

He pulled away and her stomach sunk. Sighing, she dropped her load on the bed, picked up her towel and wrapped it around her body.

"A bit late for that now, don't you think? People are talking."

"Talking? About what?"

"The fit hottie in a bikini," Khai mimicked an exaggerated English accent. "What is wrong with you?"

Nadia's temper flared. "I went for a surf, Khai, just like you. It's not my fault you kooked it out there." She snatched her bundle and pushed clumsily past him. Stomping in a pair of thongs and keeping one's dignity was bloody hard. She tried, nevertheless, and turned back to face him after passing through the doorway. "Don't tell me you didn't run upstairs in half of what I'm wearing when you came back."

She didn't hear any retort as she made her way around the corner to one of the communal bathrooms. Regardless, she knew she'd pay for saying it. 

She'd learned a lot about Khai on this trip — it was time to think about their future. She sighed. She really, really didn't want to.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thongs — Flip flops or jandals (New Zealand)

G-string — A thong

~These thongs, guys (it's plural) 😹 ~

Photo of Ipiales sourced from: heneedsfood.com