Samantha James 2/?travelistaaSeptember 30 2011, 17:09:01 UTC
The original plan had been simple - navigate and excavate a recently discovered Incan temple in Peru. It was something they had experience in; Samantha and Clayton had both done many similar digs like this. The unfortunate part about the temple was that while Samantha and Clayton had absolute faith they would find something, the World Archaeological Society (WAS) had seen far too much money wasted on similar excavations only to find nothing but dusty emptiness and no finds. If Samantha and Clayton wanted to pursue this, they would have to fund the expedition themselves completely. Frustrated with the lack of faith the WAS had in the two renowned archaeologists, Sam and Clayton decided to throw caution to the wind, attempt to put differences aside (HA), and work together (HA HA) to get the money together in order to fund the excavation. It was a bit of a hassle and it took longer than necessary to accumulate the money and tools necessary for such a dig, though eventually, everything was accounted for, and after Samantha’s spat with customs (and security - and near detainment) in the international airport about why she needed to bring what looked like a miniature pickaxe and spade on board the plane (“They’re expensive and I don’t trust you people to keep your grubby paws off them-!”) they were comfortably seated on board, Samantha quiet as she sat steaming next to Clayton (who wore a very smug expression indeed).
On arrival in Peru, everything that could have went wrong, did. Samantha’s luggage had been lost (“I told you they’d steal my stuff!), Clayton’s passport was stolen, hotel reservations hadn’t been made (“You told me you were going to do it!” “No, Samantha, you were supposed to do it.”), most of the team they had planned on bringing backed out and didn’t show (“what, did you forget to call them, Clayton?”), the taxi was a stinking mess, and a giant spider had crawled onto Clayton’s hand in the parking lot of the only ‘hotel’ available (which had caused an uproar of uncharacteristically girlish screaming and flailing, which in turn caused Samantha to un-shoe her foot and proceed to whack Clayton senseless with said shoe. Said hotel was in (and nearby meaning a good 50 mile trek with a beat up Land Rover) the site, in a Peruvian village that provided a good base camp for the duo. The lodging was a bare bones inn with a cantina attached to the back. The place had no air conditioning, limited electricity, and an outhouse. Not unfamiliar with this sort of thing, Samantha managed to fit in spectacularly, and particularly enjoyed conversing with the locals in front of Clayton, who hadn’t a clue as to what was being said. After several shouting matches in the hallways (“You paid them to take my suitcase, didn’t you! Trying to sabatoge me!” “I did not, that’s just you’re paranoia kicking in, darling-“ “Don’t you dare call me darling!” "Oh, sorry, sorry, didn't mean to call you darling, darling"), they were eventually placed at opposite ends of the hotel.
Despite their hang-ups, work began immediately at dawn the next day; gathering together a ragtag group of locals to help with some of the more menial things - setting up camp for the day at the site, cooking lunch, sorting through found artifacts - they made their way into the heart of the jungle towards the temple. Samantha and Clayton had miraculously come to an agreement that while the locals would be extremely helpful in said tasks, they weren’t trained for the more delicate work that archaeology sometimes required. That left the two to do most of the hardest and meticulous tasks themselves (which accounted for some extremely long days). It went like this for several weeks, Samantha and Clayton getting up before dawn and arriving back at their rooms long after the sun set (and one evening Samantha returned to her luggage sitting in her room). On a normal basis, they were far too exhausted (and too busy bickering) to pay much attention to the fact that they were being followed.
On arrival in Peru, everything that could have went wrong, did. Samantha’s luggage had been lost (“I told you they’d steal my stuff!), Clayton’s passport was stolen, hotel reservations hadn’t been made (“You told me you were going to do it!” “No, Samantha, you were supposed to do it.”), most of the team they had planned on bringing backed out and didn’t show (“what, did you forget to call them, Clayton?”), the taxi was a stinking mess, and a giant spider had crawled onto Clayton’s hand in the parking lot of the only ‘hotel’ available (which had caused an uproar of uncharacteristically girlish screaming and flailing, which in turn caused Samantha to un-shoe her foot and proceed to whack Clayton senseless with said shoe. Said hotel was in (and nearby meaning a good 50 mile trek with a beat up Land Rover) the site, in a Peruvian village that provided a good base camp for the duo. The lodging was a bare bones inn with a cantina attached to the back. The place had no air conditioning, limited electricity, and an outhouse. Not unfamiliar with this sort of thing, Samantha managed to fit in spectacularly, and particularly enjoyed conversing with the locals in front of Clayton, who hadn’t a clue as to what was being said. After several shouting matches in the hallways (“You paid them to take my suitcase, didn’t you! Trying to sabatoge me!” “I did not, that’s just you’re paranoia kicking in, darling-“ “Don’t you dare call me darling!” "Oh, sorry, sorry, didn't mean to call you darling, darling"), they were eventually placed at opposite ends of the hotel.
Despite their hang-ups, work began immediately at dawn the next day; gathering together a ragtag group of locals to help with some of the more menial things - setting up camp for the day at the site, cooking lunch, sorting through found artifacts - they made their way into the heart of the jungle towards the temple. Samantha and Clayton had miraculously come to an agreement that while the locals would be extremely helpful in said tasks, they weren’t trained for the more delicate work that archaeology sometimes required. That left the two to do most of the hardest and meticulous tasks themselves (which accounted for some extremely long days). It went like this for several weeks, Samantha and Clayton getting up before dawn and arriving back at their rooms long after the sun set (and one evening Samantha returned to her luggage sitting in her room). On a normal basis, they were far too exhausted (and too busy bickering) to pay much attention to the fact that they were being followed.
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