on a local bus through the mountains from Arequipa to a small native town called Cabanaconde. This bus was rough enough in the city on probably the smoothest roads in peru so when we reached the "roads" in the mountains the bus became unbearable, especially if you a.) are ill and b.) do not have a helmet.That said it was another beautiful bus ride along the cliff edges that you can probably experience on no other continent.
When we sat down to lunch at Cabanaconde (the base for the trek) i was feeling weary, like i had been beaten up, but some soup and some sort of chicken like substance sorted me out. Our guide Dennis was great, partly because he has a very english sense of humour (our jokes had previously been met with blank stares from apparently humourless northern and southern americans)
We had made a mistake from the second we embarked on this trek. We were carrying 9kg in our packs (sleeping bags, food and in james´case hair straighteners and heat magazine). My heart sank when i saw Dennis step onto the bus with his tiny rucksack and cheeky smile. Nevermind, hopefully it would add a bit of muscle onto me. The first part of the trek is a 1000m decent to the floor of the canyon at the rio de colca. 1000m sounds easy but its agony unless you have prosthetic joints. Beleive it or not, i was looking forward to the ascent. We met a dog at the top of the canyon called donita simone. We joked about her following us down, 2 days and a pile of sick under stefs bed later, she was still with us. It was fun for a time but she seemed determined to trip us up. She also had a problem with the muels carrying supplies for the canyon´s villages. The muels often neared Buckarroo which was a little unsettling. If a muel goes apeshit on a canyon pass as wide as a fat man, then everyone goes down with it.
After about 4 hours we reached the rio de colca and i threw my pack down and sat on the rocks with my legs in the mucho frigo rio. It was bliss, and my feet certainly forgave me. After ths high we had a further 200m to ascend to the local family we were staying with. I dont know whether we were hallucinating by this point but the scenery became very lord of the rings, we had donita simone as our own little gollum, equally hideous and annoying. The indigenous people of the canyon had created canals by this point transporting water through the canyon into their tiered irrigation systems. Very smart.
We arrived at our overnight accomodation, a small family barn, at sunset which was suspiciously well timed. Our host was lovely and kitted out in all the colourful dress of the Chivay region. She is a magnificant cook, all her food was grown in her allotment so you could not get more authentic without marrying her daughter (which wasnt on because she was about 12). We tried some crazy local teas too, cannot remember what they were but i assumed they were safe. I went to sleep to peace, not even a car can be heard out there, i tried to count the stars too but gave up after i got to a billion.
The next day was to be the toughest day as we had a 200m descent to the river again and then the 1000m (definitely vertical) ascent to the edge of the canyon again. Passing through the local canyon villages is such a jolly walk. Everyone says hi to you, and i mean everyone. Dennis took us to a, no THE, hospital of the canyon. It had 2 rooms. It was very clean and seemed in good order which is reassuring however the government input to this vital hospital (which serves an entire canyon) is disappointing to say the least. The fridge, essential right?!, was donated by tourists, not the government. The government did stock it up with plenty of heart attack medication though, however nobody has heart attacks in the canyon because they walk 5 hours to get water and food. Nice one Alan Garcia. The fact that the locals are so happy despite this is amazing, i really admire these people.
After a dip in the "oasis" swimming pool we began the ascent of the canyon in heat close to 300 degrees. I can imagine that walking to the gallows had a similar feeling to this. Unfortunately after 15 mins of the ascent Dennis had to go back with James to get him a muel. Myself and Stefan struggled on with our foolishly heavy packs and enough snacks to feed a family of ladybird for about 3 minutes. We had to take it slowly, 15 minutes, rest, 15 minutes, rest,drink, drink, drink, drink, drink, drink, drink, drink....We were told there were 3 peaks before the summit and that it takes around 4 hours to ascend. So after 2 and a half hours of pain we saw what we assumed was the 2nd summit. I muttered something to stef about seeing Uri (our Israeli, and considerably more experienced, co-trekker) at the peak. Again i must have been tripping as it was a 4 hour ascent, wasnt it?! Turns out no. We had made it, and in time for sunset, and we beat James´mule! This was the best experience of my life for about 7 reasons...1.) I had the shits and managed to survive. 2.) We met the most friendly and content indigenous people around. 3.) I saw the realities of a misfiring government. 4.) 50% of people fail....cant think of anymore. But standing on top of the canyon was adrenaline i have not felt before. Ive been writing for ages and i cant be bothered to write anymore, so make up the rest yourself...
P.
1 comment:
you should be a travel writer Pete! hilarious, hope you're not feeling too shitty, miss you xxxxx
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