It’s been less than two months since I returned from one of the hardest places to get to from Singapore, and already it feels like a dream. Had I really gazed down upon the ruins of Machu Picchu from the Sun Gate, drenched in sweat, nursing a headache, yet feeling exuberant and triumphant? How had I survived the 10-hour bus ride to Huaraz, only to be brought down by unrelenting altitude sickness that landed me in a (surprisingly well-run) clinic where I was administered oxygen in a small blue room decorated with smiling animal stickers? What about the thunderous roar of Iguazu Falls, the endless ice-blue brilliance of Perito Moreno…