The Cordillera Huayhuash Circuit Part II – Free Donkeys and Hot Springs

25 Wednesday Jun 2014

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Better weather on Day 6

By day six, the weather started co-operating with us and I awoke to brilliant sunshine. However, trouble was brewing as evidenced by the worried and perplexed looks on our guides’ faces. “The donkeys are gone”, were the first words said to me in response to my “Buenos Dias”. “What do you mean they’re gone? Where did they go? Or were they stolen? And what does that mean for our group?” (of course, this conversation happened in Spanish)

Our group at mealtimes

As it turned out, nobody knew what had happened to the donkeys – 6 of ours and 3 from another group camping close by. Mario, our donkey wrangler, was besides himself as they represented his livelihood and he claimed that they’d never just wandered off before. Without the donkeys, our trek could not continue as we’d have no way of transporting all of our equipment and fuel. Javier, Julian and Mario set off on foot and horseback to look for the donkeys and we were told to stay put, worst case scenario being that we’d have to stay another night in the same camp.

Given how awful I felt after the day before, I was quite happy to have a morning of rest.

After about 3 hours, Mario returned convinced that they’d been stolen in the night by one of the local communities. He was inconsolable. Javier and Julian were still out looking.

Then, about an hour later, someone spotted the donkey dude from the other group, on horseback, corralling 9 donkeys back down the valley from literally what appeared to be at least 2000 feet up the mountain. What the hell?

The man explained that he’d “found” the 9 donkeys in a CAVE way up the mountain side where they must have spent the night.

Seriously?!

Our horse, Luis Pajon.

From this point on, throughout the rest of the trek, we all decided that the donkeys had decided to go have themselves a good party that night. Lots of laughs were had describing the lead donkey saying “You gotta check out the grass up there…it’s the best grass you’ve ever tasted” and the obvious double entendre. While in the cave, we think the donkeys decided it was time to revolt from being human-load carriers- they were going to be Free Donkeys!

This became our toast of choice from this point forward.

Hot Springs and Cold Beer!

Despite our late departure, we had another soul soothing experience to look forward to. Our camp for this night was located directly next to a natural thermal pool! After that many days without my skin touching water, it was an unbelievably wonderful feeling. Add to that the fact that they were selling 1/2 litre bottles of beer for $2 and we had ourselves a fantastic afternoon soak. It’s amazing how trekking can really help boil life down to the bare necessities, and have you appreciate them so much more.

The only other drama we sustained throughout the rest of our journey was losing 3 members of our group on two separate occasions. On the first, I was one of the 3. Since our guide was still way behind us walking with the older slower couple, the 3 faster walkers decided to just keep heading downhill after the highest pass, Punta Cuyoc, until we saw our campsite. Unfortunately, we just kept going and going and never saw our tents. I started feeling suspicious because Javier had said that the campsite should be reached within an hour of the pass?! Eventually we stopped to discuss what to do, and we saw Julian walking towards us yelling. Turns out, we’d walked at least an hour too far and now faced that same hour of walking uphill after what had already been a very difficult day of asent! I was so disheartened I could barely speak until I collapsed in my tent.

At Punta Cuyoc, 5000m

2 days later, the older couple announced that they were leaving the trek. It was getting too hard for them and we had descended to a village at 3200M where it would be possible for them to pick up a series of buses to get back to Huaraz. I respected their decision and was secretly and selfishly glad to have our guide back.

Waiting for the rest of the group: turns out we’d walked an hour past our campsite

The last three days were by far the best from a group and scenery perspective. Unfortunately, I was sick again – the Cipro I’d taken hadn’t killed my strep infection and it was back with a vengeance. The fact that I could still manage 1400m of ascent and high passes during a fever told me how fit I’d gotten with these miles of walking over the better part of two weeks. I managed to buy more antibiotics at the general store (without prescription is perfectly normal in Peru) and hoped this would stamp it out for good. I’d also lost a considerable amount of weight and my pants were starting to fall down (a good problem, I think).

Siula Grande!

Our group became very cohesive with just four clients and we had more intimate dinners and social times together. The most incredible day was when we walked face to face with the magnificent Siula Grande mountain and there was not a cloud in the sky. By far the most stunning mountain scenery I’ve ever had the grace to witness.

Jumping into the river to cool off

On our penultimate day, the weather actually got pretty hot- and we were all convinced to jump into the glacially cold river to cool off and clean up. It was super fun. That day was so relaxing and wonderful, though I’m sure it was aided by the knowledge that all we had in front of us was a five hour, mostly flat, walk out the next day to Llamac and our waiting bus!

The Cordillera Huayhuash Circuit – Part I – Guts and Glory

25 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by Anita in Peru

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Hikes, Mountains, Tours

View from Day 1

I returned last night from one of the most physically and emotionally arduous walking journeys of my life. The Huayhuash circuit is legendary for its grand peaks that are close enough to touch, and its sheer unspoiled wilderness. I’d first heard about it through reading the book “Touching the Void” about the perilous and ill-fated attempt of two British climbers to scale Siula Grande for the first time.

I honestly can’t believe how much happened in these past ten days, but it will surely take some weeks to fully sink in. Just the appreciation of a real bed and the chance to rest today, and connect again with friends via the internet has been overwhelming. Doing this circuit really meant being completely cut off – and in my case, being cut off from anyone that could have a real conversation with me in English. It’s been a trying and demanding experience.

Our stunning campsite on night number 2

As you will recall, I began this journey with trepidation about whether I should even be getting on the bus. I’d just returned from my four day Santa Cruz trek and had developed a nasty sore throat and temperature. This turned out to be Strep, and for the first 3 days, I hiked and camped through a nasty fever and very weak disposition.

Javier and I – together again

Our group was a huge surprise for me because it consisted of 4 Poles, 1 French Canadian, a Peruvian client and 3 Peruvian staff. I couldn’t believe that I was going to be in Peru for 10 days talking in Polish every day (and as it turned out, serving as somewhat of a translator between the Polish clients and our guides). So, bizarre as it was, I was relieved that I’d at least not be completely left out of every dinner conversation and could understand about 90% of what was being spoken. However, moving constantly in my brain between Polish, Spanish and French was very demanding and I longed to have a conversation in my mother tongue.

Our bumpy six hour ride to the trail head was soon relieved by the knowledge that we’d be camping right where the bus let us out. Our nice dinner however, was soon interrupted by a huge storm rolling in and our equally huge discovery that none of our tents were waterproof. Commotion and moving all of our gear into the cooking tent soon had all of our spirits dampened along with our gear. Upon waiting out the storm all smushed into one tent, the rain subsided and after drying out our tents, we trepidatiously agreed to try a night of sleep in them – the plan being that Javier (incidentally the same guide that I had on the Santa Cruz) would head out on horseback at 5am to get to the nearest town where there would be a signal and call Galaxia, our agency, and request that they send our group of 7 some new tents.

Rainbox on a chilly wet morning

Javier returned around 11am with the assurance that new tents were on the way and we could get started on our day’s climb. Each day of this trek involved going over a pass that was in excess of 4500m, the highest one being 5030m or 16,500 feet. Still feeling very unwell, I paced myself and was very grateful when we arrived at our next campsite…that is, until we discovered that our agency had only sent 2 new tents – leaving 3 of us in the same predicament as before.

Seething, but with no other choice, the crew did what they could to patch up the best of the worst 3 tents left over with tarp and tape, and we prayed each night that it wouldn’t rain too badly.

What a way to start a 9 night trip in the high alpine.

Each day brought new highlights and lowlights. The scenery was absolutely stunning, though cloud and rain did obscure some views those first few days. We had a stunning sun break at our second campsite which was situated almost directly below towering white-capped peaks covered in glaciers that you could hear calving throughout the night. Our food was wonderfully prepared by our chef, Julian, and our guide, Javier did the best he could with a group that was easily split into 3 when it came to the speed at which we walked. A slightly older couple from Poland were the slowest, and what took half the group to cover in 7 hours, took them 11. This meant that for the most part, we were walking without a guide and relying on the cook or the donkey porter, Mario, to tell us the direction to walk.

Weather started to get bad on the way up the pass

This was all fine and good until day 4 when the weather became exceptionally bad and it became impossible to wait for others to “catch up”. I was trying to get to the top of the pass to catch up with Shirley and Janusz who had been in front, since half of the group with the guide were over an hour behind me. When I got to the pass, it started to snow – heavily. I waited as long as I could except that it soon became obvious that if I waited any longer, hypothermia was going to be a real problem and I had no emergency shelter with me. I started walking down the path hoping that the way would be obvious to the next campsite.

Unfortunately, the weather worsened and I soon found myself in a white out and started to panic. I had no map, no compass. I didn’t know which way camp was. I could start heading back up where I came from, but when I turned around the visibility was so bad I couldn’t re-trace my steps. Walking in whiteout conditions and hoping for the best, I spotted two figures in the distance and started yelling. It turned out to be two Australian independent backpackers who were kind enough to wait for me and show me the way down (at least as best they could with the visibility, but at least they had a map)

Weather has turned to snow and I have no idea where I’m going

About two and a half hours later, I arrived in camp and promptly burst into tears in the cooking tent. It was still raining. Half way through the trek and that day didn’t feel safe by a long shot.

The Santa Cruz Trek – 4 days of spectacular scenery and suffering

23 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by Anita in Peru

≈ 4 Comments

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Hikes, Mountains, Tours

Santa Cruz Trek, Cordillera Blanca, Peru

Despite some initial trepidation about needing more time to acclimatize, I booked my 4 day Santa Cruz trek with the Galaxia Tour Company in downtown Huaraz to leave the following morning. Marco, the very jovial owner, explained that it really was a trek designed to help a person acclimatize and should definitely be attempted before doing the Huayhuash Circuit. Since I got a nice discount, I booked both treks, knowing that I’d get a day and a half to recuperate between the two.

Entrance into the National Park

The first day went very well. Apart from a sleepness night, I managed to get a few hours of rest on the four hour bus ride to the trailhead. We had a five hour ascent to our first campsite. It started in a village and followed a lovely creek through a canyon that finally opened out into a beautiful meadow. Our guide, Javier, was delightful and I basically got a five hour Spanish lesson on that walk! He was very “amable” and I liked him a lot. The rest of our group comprised an retired French lady, a couple from Spain (who incidentally rarely stopped talking-ever) and two lovely young friends from Germany in their late twenties.

First lake

Our first campsite was at 3600 meters and we started the climb at 2900 meters. I could definitely feel it, but I was feeling ok all the same. The view from the meadow of the white-capped peaks was very impressive. I had my own tent and after a cozy dinner served in our private “mess tent” – I settled in for my first night in my own Eddie Bauer 0 degree sleeping bag: which I was so grateful I had brought along.

The next day the trail got interesting. First we passed several alpine lakes with plunging waterfalls descending from glaciers hanging overhead from towering peaks. Then we entered a wooded area followed by a desert like wide expanse of sand which made for difficult footing. I was starting to really feel the altitude, but so far, so good. After lunch, we were heading up to a lake at 4400m. This was starting to get serious, altitude-wise. I should have done at least 2-3 acclimitization hikes before ascending this high and I’d only done one. My fingers were crossed.

Quatchi and the sand/desert section

Around 4100m I started to get a stomach ache. Next came bouts of nausea. Then the whole world starting to feel strange, as if the mountains were moving and I wasn’t. I felt panicked and sat down next to a stream. To make matters even worse – I realized that my period had started (6 days early and I’m usually regular) and I only had enough “stuff” to last about a day. From that point on…I stopped and asked every woman I passed if they had anything to spare. This managed to see me through most days…when it didn’t- well, I’ll spare you the details 😦

Sitting by that stream I started to cry. Javier came by and gave me some paracetomol telling me it would help. Did I want to continue to the lake or sit there and wait for him? Stubborn as I am and as much of an achiever as I am, I elected to continue. Stupid, I know.

At the high altitude lake: found strength to jump right after being sick

That next 45 minute ascent was as tough as the last 45 minutes on Rainier. I struggled for air and felt sick to my stomach. The view at the lake was worth it, and I collapsed onto a rock to take in the view…but felt worse by the minute.

Pierre and Malte, both having had AMS themselves on a previous trek, suggested I go down as soon as possible. Pierre asked “Maybe you’d feel better if you just puked?”

That did it.

I don’t know what it was- but that word did the trick and everything that I’d eaten or drank that day came back. After, feeling a little better, I started the descent with Javier who stayed with me despite my now dinosaur pace.

Beautiful Alpamayo

Getting into camp, it was all I could do to drink a little soup and then crawl into my sleeping bag. That was a really rough night. My heart felt like it was beating right out of my chest. I took some diamox and drank over a litre, getting up to pee at least 3 times. I felt so anxious and there was no-one to talk to about how I was feeling. So, pretty tough all around. Decided to take some Ambien so I could get at least a few hours of sleep.

In the morning, I felt pretty rough. My secondary womanly issues were not helping matters and I was emotionally overwrought. It was, of course, in this state of mind that I now had to face the toughest part of the 55 km circuit – the ascent to Punta Union at 4750 meters, which incidentally, is 15,583 feet – over 100 feet higher than Mount Rainier. Deep breaths.

Feeling ill on the way up to Punta Union

It was slow going, but after 2 and a 1/2 hours of struggling with breath at every step, I made it. The next section, our guide wanted to try his “new route” that was supposed to be more beautiful. That’s great, but he didn’t mention it would include traipsing through thigh-tall grass and sinking into mud to your ankles. It made each step even more tiring. This was a 15 mile day, and by the time we walked into camp I had literally fallen over asleep mid-stride.

I crawled into my tent and set up my mattress and sleeping bag. No sooner had I crawled on top, not even bothering to remove my muddy pants, but I noticed what sounded like an entire school of children had decided to play a game of soccer, screaming simultaneously right outside my tent. This campsite was not the wilderness, we were in the midst of local villages. There was not going to be any rest for me before dinner, which was me forcing down some broth again. Our “bathroom” was this distant deserted looking building which I was assured was manned through the night. I trudged over there and found myself walking through a small river which I hadn’t seen with my headlight. The only reception I found was two barking dogs and no-one answering the door. Creeped out in the night, I miserably trudged through the field and found a place to dig a hole, to um, do my business (sorry – but that’s the reality of camping sometimes)

At the highest point on the trek

Our last morning was supposed to be super easy – only a 2 hour hike out before we would catch our bus back to Huaraz. I woke up feeling so much better and refreshed. We were told to wake up at our normal 6:30am so we could hit the trail at 8am. The ascent was actually steeper than I was expecting, but the prospect of a bus ride and a shower made it easier. We passed lots of interesting villages full of small smiling children waving greetings as we passed them by.

Arriving in the village of Vaqueria, we settled with some cold drinks to wait for our bus. The wait turned into 3 hours, with my questions regarding when the bus would arrive being constantly avoided. Welcome to Peru. Around 11:30 – they did serve us some lunch, but not before several of the group had given into their hunger buying themselves some lunch. Of course, no-one had told us we were going to be fed.

Sigh.

Towards the end of our trek

Then once we finally got going, we were told we had to stop at the trailhead for Laguna 69 to pick up some day hikers. “No te preocupes, solo 20 minutos”. Whenever a Peruvian says this, you know you should start worrying. 2 hours later, we finally hit the road and didn’t get back to Huaraz until after 7pm. I’d been reassured that we’d be back by 2, so I was pretty disappointed not to have any time to relax. I literally showered, ate some fruit, and passed out. Unfortunately, I’d also developed a sore throat and a fever which has continued into today…And I’m supposed to leave on the Huayhuash trek tomorrow morning!

Here’s hoping I feel better soon.

Peru Adventure Part VI

04 Monday May 2009

Posted by Anita in Peru

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I write this to you from the Lake Titicaca Bolivian town of Copacabana. I
am leaving in a few hours for La Paz. Bolivia has been a bit of a
NIGHTMARE, I was forced to pay $135 to enter the country as they refused to
accept my British passport, there are NO ATMs in the town, and the bank is
CLOSED for a festival. If it were not for the kindness and generosity of a
couple of fellow travellers, I would be sleeping on the streets and unable
to eat. More about THAT later…

I left off with me arriving in Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley after
completing the trek and having spent the day in Machu Picchu. I slept 14
hours that night…i really needed it.

In the morning, feeling like a new person, I packed up my bags and headed
downstairs to have some breakfast. I met a group of Americans from LA who
invited me to eat with them. They were so nice and sympathised greatly with
my story about getting ripped off, in fact, one of them was Peruvian and
recommended that I complain officially by going to the local consumer
affairs office in Cusco. They even paid for my breakfast.

I headed out to check out the Inca ruins in Ollantaytambo and the rest of
the town. I was a little “ruined out” but these were completely different,
and again, in an outstandingly beautiful natural location. The entire time
I was walking around (and CLIMBING..the incas loved their stairs and steep
locations) I kept hearing this sheep bleating. It was incessant, very loud,
and it sounded like there were several animals crying out in excruciating
pain. I asked a guide whether that was a herd of sheep or just one sheep,
and she said she believed it was just one. This may not seem significant,
but I tell you, the bleating went on for 2 hours without stopping. As I was
leaving the ruins by the river…I saw the sheep..tied up next to the river
in a little patch of grass. I approached and the sheep literally ran
towards me and head butted my knees. He stopped bleating and looked at me
with amused anticipation. I sat down on a tree stump and he started happily
eating the grass, looking up at me every few seconds and ensuring that
I was still there.

The sheep had just been lonely.

I sat there and sang him a song. I know I sound completely mad, but I felt
an affinity with this sheep. I´ve been so lonely on this trip sometimes that
I´ve felt like bleating for 2 hours. I understood, and it was really hard
to leave him because he immediately started bleating again.

That afternoon I wandered around the town…this was the only place in Peru
where people are still living in original inca buildings. It was so
beautiful, the original inca irrigation channels flowing through the
ridiculously narrow streets, where people lived in homes with the skulls of
their grandparents sitting proudly above the fireplace (I know, weird huh?)

Then began the transportation adventure…I took a ¨collectivo¨, or
van first to Orumba, and then hopped on a bus bound for Pisac. I met
a lovely local indigenous lady selling her wares on the first bus.
Her name was Daisy. Seriously. She was only sixteen, but already
carrying her heavy load in her brightly colored back shawl.

On arriving in Pisac, I bartered hard for a cab ride to see the ruins.
The cab driver was a bit of a maniac driver, but we arrived safely
and he said that he would accompany me as I toured the site. At first
I didn´t think anything of this, it all seemed normal. Then when it
dawned on me that there were no tourist left (it was 4pm), I started
to feel a little uncomfortable having him with me. That was worsened
by what I saw next. A man of about 55 sitting next to the sacred
temple, staring at me while he patted a machete into the palm of his
hand. The hairs on the back of my neck stood upright and I began to
ask myself how I had been so stupid to get myself into this precarious
situation. I promptly set off up the hill, hoping that they wouldn´t
follow me.

It began to thunder and rain.

As I tried to decide what on earth I was going to do about getting
back to the city…I bumped into a lovely Australian guy named Nick.
I told him about the guy with the Machete and he said that it would be
perfectly fine for me to accompany him back down. I was relieved.

It was lovely chatting to Nick who had recently left his job working
for a hedge fund in London to work for a non profit micro finance
company in New York City. I listened intently as he described what he
did, and I found myself fascinated. A job in finance where you can
make a difference in the world by encouraging business and
entrepreneurship to women in East Africa and Cambodia. He explained
that I should consider the field since I had a background in finance,
could speak multiple languages, and was not harried by the thought of
travel to extreme impoverished locales in the world. I was very
intrigued, as he offered to email me job opportunities that he knew
about.

A potentially nightmarish afternoon had been turned around into a
potential career opportunity. How exciting.

And then 2 rainbows appeared. Maybe a sign from the universe. We shall see.

Nick then offered to give me a ride back to Cusco with himself and his
parents in their beautiful privately rented van (it had leather
seats). I gratefully accepted.

I chatted happily with his folks who were from Melbourne. They shared
personal anecdotes from the recent bushfires that killed so many
people in Victoria. It was shocking to listen to.

After kindly dropping me off at my hotel, I showered and hurried out
to meet my trek guide, Nico, for dinner. We had a lovely meal, and
then he introduced me to a friend of his who organized treks to the
Amazon jungle in Puerto Maldonado. I happily took the information and
headed off to bed.

The next two days I recovered and relaxed in Cusco. I met up with
Mirjam again and went to see my final inca ruin at Qoricancha, which
was actually very fascinating since it was an incan ruin with a
Catholic monastery, complete with modern day monks, built on top. I
booked my flights and trip to the jungle, did some last minute
shopping, rested, and saw the chiropractor again to sort out my back.
It was just what I needed…but I was eager to leave Cusco again that
Monday morning.

Mirjam decided not to join me in the Amazon, which I was sad about,
because I was booked to travel only with 2 couples, which I had
reservations about…. As it turned out the couples, from France and
South Africa respectively, were delightful and didn´t make me feel
like a fifth wheel at all. My flight was smooth and I revelled in the
blast of steaming hot air that attacked my face as I stepped off the
aircraft and onto the tarmac. We met up with our guide, Alberto, and
set off in a van to meet our boat on the mighty Madre De Dios River
for our hour long boat transfer to our Tambo Jungle Lodge.

I immediately was loving the scenery and the environment. The river
was a dark muddy brown, and navigating its waters provided a delicious
breeze which cooled our sweaty brows. We were very quickly out of the
city and I noted that the vegetation was far denser than any other
jungle type place I´d visited before…this was the real thing!

I loved our lodge. It was so…I don´t know….Hollywood B movie from
the 1950´s…netted dining room, cute little thatched bungalows with
giant screens and mosquito nets to keep out the critters, and the
obligatory five macaw team of pets.

What I loved about my three days at this lodge was that it was the
perfect combination of activity and sloth. We would head out very
early in the morning, often before sunrise and the heat of the day,
head upriver and start our hiking explorations before returning for
lunch, a cold shower (which was fantastically welcome for a change!)
and a nap in the shade of your mosquito net or outdoor shaded hammock.
Then there would be another activity and meal. It was all very well
organized.

The first evening we visited Monkey Island and saw Kapuchin and howler
monkeys. On the way home in the dark, our guide used a huge spotlight
to hunt for the glow of red eyes of the animals near the riverbank.
We spotted a pygmy marmoset and a dozen or so caimans lurking near the
surface. I was so blissfully happy to just sit and relax in the boat,
just absorbing the absolutely stunning sunset on the river, and just
drink in the ambiance of it all. I felt as if I were in a movie.

Our second day was spent in a nature reserve that took care of injured
and abandoned animals, as well as providing a hair raising canopy walk
that raised you 45 metres into the tree canopy above to look for
birds. I did enjoy it thoroughly, though it was upsetting to see
Preciosa the jaguar, who was kept in captivity because the centre
didn´t have the resources to transport her deep enough into the jungle
that they could be assured that she wouldn´t continue to seek food
from human sources such as farms, since this is what she had grown
accustomed to.

I also learned that pink toe tarantulas make their home inside
pineapple plants. Hmmm. They don´t tell you that at Del Monte.

The evenings at the lodge were spent in very relaxed games of chess,
glasses of beer, and conversation with both our group and the group
that had arrived the day before us. It was just lovely.

Our second day we completed a 14km return hike to Lake Sandoval where
we canoed through beautiful inlets lined with more wildlife such as
caimans, snakes, lots of birds (can´t remember all the names),
spiders, and squirrel monkeys. I enjoyed it, but by the end of the
hike, which was done entirely in gumboots because of the knee high mud
in places, I was spent and felt at one with my clothes as they were as
dirty and sweat ridden as me myself. Ugh. Cold shower was fabulous,
once again.

That night was the highlight of my stay. We headed out after dinner,
in the dark, with headlamps to do a night walk in the jungle environs
of the lodge. It was terrifying because Alfredo would make us turn
off our lights and just listen to the sounds of the jungle. Not
knowing what the calls, screeches, and various rustling noises were
around you added to the suspense as you weren´t sure if something was
going to just jump out of the jungle and grab you. My imagination run
rampant.

At one point, Alfredo hushed us as we heard the snorts, sounds, and
running of what seemed like a group of large mammals. He said they
were wild pigs or pecarys…and as he listened intently, he informed
us that we were standing very close to a group of about 25 of them.
We shone our lights out into the jungle and were met with a bunch of
evil glowing red eyes. Alberto said that they could be dangerous if
provoked, and after bearing it for a few minutes, instructed us to
back up slowly and head back.

That was exciting.

On the way home we found jaguar tracks…Alberto said that it was more
than likely hunting the pecaries.

Good stuff!

The final morning was rather disappointing as we awoke at 4am to
journey 1 1’2 hours upriver to view a salt lick that attracted
hundreds of parakeets. Whilst seeing the sunrise on the river made
the trip worthwhile, I was rather disappointed by the far away view of
the parakeets and wondered why I had awoken at such an ungodly hour
just for this.

After it was time to head back to our lodge to pack and head to the
airport and the cold brisk air of Cusco.

This was to be my last afternoon in the former inca capital, and I did
some shopping and had a final celebratory meal with Mirjam before
hopping in a cab bound for the bus station to take a night bus to Puno
and Lake Titicacca.

I would be spending just the morning visiting the Ouros Islands,
before catching a bus headed to the Bolivian lakeside town of
Copacabana.

And that is where I will leave it for now…(I am actually now in La
Paz and have to go pack for my four day trip to the wonder of the
world that is the Salar de Uyuni in the morning. I hope to write
again soon!

Peru Adventure Part V

26 Sunday Apr 2009

Posted by Anita in Peru

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I know its only been a day…but I´m heading off to the Amazon jungle tomorrow for four days so I need to take this opportunity to journal my time since I arrived in Cusco last Friday. Because a LOT happened to me. Some tragic, but all funny when told in hindsight.

Mirjam and I spent the first two days in Cusco acclimatizing, and trying not to do too much. The first morning, after recovering from the Death by Pan Flute Express, we went out for brunch at a restaurant called Jack´s that was recommended to me by the people I met in Huacachina. It did not disappoint. I had the best breakfast with fresh baked bread, eggs, tomato, potatoes, avocado, fresh orange juice and a piping hot latte. I needed a little bit of home.

We then headed up the hill to check out the beautiful little neighborhood of San Blas which was just charming with lots of very steep narrow streets that twisted and turned endlessly. Continuing up we decided to visit the original Incan fortress of Saskaywaman…which tourists affectionately refer to as “Sexywoman“. From there we could admire the incredible stone work of the incas…some of the rocks used to construct the fortification weighed up to 3 tonnes, and yet were carved and put together to stand for over 600 years without the use of mortar or clay. And none of the stones were rectangular, they were all polygon shapes fitted together like a giant jigsaw. From the top of the hill we could appreciate a bird´s eye view of the entire city of Cusco, the oldest inhabited city in South America. It was much larger than I had expected and surrounded with beautifully lush green hills and valley as far as the eye could see…with just a few snow capped peaks visible in the very distance.

Coming back to the city …I hopped in a cab to have a chiropractic appointment and sort out my bus ravaged body. Getting back I attended the first orientation for my five day trek..and it was a complete waste of time. The agency couldn´t answer my questions, I was the only one from my group in attendance…oh well! This is the Peruvian way, I´m beginning to appreciate.

However, it was my birthday and Mirjam and I had invited a bunch of travellers to come out and celebrate with me. In all, 11 people showed up and the drinks started to flow. We were even joined by a guy from Miami, originally from Israel, who´s birthday it was too! It was a great night out which ended in a karaoke bar (of course!!) with lots of singing and dancing… I even managed to get a very nice good night kiss from my fellow birthday boy (unfortunately he was flying home the next day).

The next day, Mirjam and I awoke with a serious hangover. I stayed in bed most of the day and only ventured out to buy some last minute needed items of gear for my trek like rain pants, and a poncho. Then we went out for a lovely meal and I tried to get to bed at a reasonable hour because I was being picked up at 4:15am the next day!

Of course, I hardly slept. And the pickup was an HOUR late. Which pissed me off. However, I got in the van and tried to sleep, to no avail, all the way the trail head at Mollepata. Beginning to converse with my fellow hikers, I was shocked to discover that I had paid FOUR TIMES what each of the other 11 trekkers had for this trip. This put me in a horrendously bad mood as I felt completely cheated, robbed and lied to. It wasn´t so much the money…but that I had been told that the 19 April was SOLD OUT and that the company was making an exception adding me at the last minute. Well, everyone had booked the trip in the last three days. My poor impression of tourism operators in this country continues to be formed.

Our first day of hiking we covered 19 kilometres and climbed 1000 metres to our first camp at Soraypampa. The scenery and weather changed drastically…we started in very humid, mosquito infested, semi-jungle, and then climbed into an alpine valley with lush green meadows and snow capped peaks in the not too distant horizon. By the late afternoon we had piled on our jackets, pants, gloves, and hats…Our porters (the cooks) and the pack mules were way ahead of us and had laid out a lovely spread of hot tea and popcorn (okay!!) for our arrival. It was so lovely and cozy, I could definitely get used to someone carrying my shit, and cooking for me when I backpack. So spoiled were we. To add to the atmosphere of it all, there was even a little ginger kitten who curled up in a ball on my lap while we ate and drank.

Dinner was not disappointing either…we had cream of asparagus soup, strips of sirloin steak with rice and vegetables, followed by jello for dessert. Yum! After several rounds of cards with my new group of trekkers, I was ready to crawl into my -15 sleeping bag for a good night´s sleep. Thankfully, it was.

Day 2 was going to be the toughest, with over 11 hours of hiking and climbing over the pass at 4950 metres- 15250 feet. I felt ready for it, physically, but was still nervous about the altitude. We were extremely blessed with fantastic weather, and the clouds soon dissipated to reveal glorious 6000 metre peaks all around us. I found the trekking poles very helpful as we began the gruelling switchbacks, up, up , up to our goal. I was the fifth to make it to the top and felt really good, just a little breathless. The biting wind also took a hold once you had stopped for a few minutes. After taking in the vistas of the glaciers overhead, and hearing them crack and move, it was time to move on to our descent back into the sub alpine green meadows and then further down into the jungle.

After nearly 7 hours of walking we stopped for lunch and ate ravenously. I couldn´t fathom that we still had 3 hours to go. That section of the trail was the toughest, and your aching muscles just willed the campsite to come into view as we went around each and every bend. I was starting to feel very weak, my stomach was hurting badly, but it wasn´t until I arrived into camp that I began to suspect that there was something very wrong with me.

I sat down, exhausted, on arrival. Then I thought to myself: ¨”oh, I´ll just lie down for a few minutes before I get into my tent and change”. That’s when everything went downhill. In a matter of minutes, I began to feel nauseous. Then the world started spinning around me, and every time I tried to sit up I was sure I was going to be sick. I was feeling really bad and worsening. Then I started to shiver, and I realized that I was lying on the ground in my sweat soaked clothes, and that I needed to get out of them quickly. I just couldn´t move and I began to panic. I willed someone to help me, but no-one seemed to notice me lying on the ground. Eventually, my tent mate asked if I was ok…I explained, though terribly embarrassed, that I was going to need help getting in the tent. With her´s and Nico´s help, I got in the tent, and somehow managed to get into dry clothes and curl into my sleeping bag.

No sooner had I got in my bag than I needed to get out again..and crawling just steps from my tent, I threw up. That was when things got bad, and things started exiting me from..um..both ends, shall we say? A fever began to spike and I was unable to keep water down.

What had I eaten or drank different from anyone else? I couldn´t think of anything. My guide, Nico, was convinced I had altitude sickness. All I knew is that things were bad and I wished to be anywhere but in the middle of nowhere.

Concerned with dehydration, my guide gave me hydration tablets and lots of water, which I promptly threw up. Nothing was staying down. It was so awful. He fetched me some Gatorade from another campsite, and I managed to keep sipping that throughout the night, thank God.

It was by far one of the longest nights of my life. I didn´t sleep at all, but just lay there writhing in pain and nausea for over 12 hours. In the middle of the night, I knew I had to go to the bathroom, but I had no idea where it was, or how on earth I was going to muster to the strength to walk there. I woke my tent mate who explained that it was about 200 m east of the tent, and that I should just head to the river.

There I was, in pitch black darkness, stumbling horrendously with my headlight trying to stay upright to get to the latrine. I stepped in donkey shit. In sandals. I tried to avoid chickens and nearly walked into a mule. Finally finding the outhouse, my heart sank as I saw that these toilets were no more than holes in the ground.

Now, as any of you who´ve had the pleasure of using such facilities will know…a good ¨”aim” is difficult at the best of times…but when you are delirious and have diarrhea….well, lets just say, that I missed….and creating such a disgusting mess that I threw up again.

I couldn´t go back to the tent like this…so I tried to find the water bucket that is used to flush the toilet…it was empty. So I hobbled down to the river and tried to rinse my feet and sandals, but the current was so strong I nearly got swept away.

Its all really funny to recall now, in retrospect, but I can assure you that at the time, it was severely lacking in humor.

Back in the tent, I was so uncomfortable and sick, that the only relief I could find was in scratching all the mosquito bites on my legs. Well, that soon got out of hand and I think I scratched myself till I bled.

In the morning, my guide came over and told me that I had to get up and walk. I just wanted to crawl up in the corner and die. God. How was I going to walk?

I can´t even begin to describe how hard it was to get ready and start walking when I felt like collapsing at every step. I was so dizzy and nauseous, it was a battle of the mind just to keep going. At one point, unable to go any further, I sat on a rock on the trail and just started to cry. It was especially difficult not having anyone else that I knew there to offer even so much as moral support. Some hiker came over and pointed out that I didn´t look so great. “What an astute observation,” I thought to myself sarcastically…but when he explained that he was a doctor…it was like music to my ears.

Turned out, he thought I had caught a virus, and promptly gave me some drugs which he explained might help with the nausea and dizziness. He said that if I still wasn´t keeping liquids down within 6 hours that I should stop and have an IV administered.

Yeah, that´s likely in the middle of the jungle.

Thankfully, the drugs helped a little and I was able to keep going and keep some liquids down. After about an hour, a local came by on horseback, and after some negotiating, I managed to bargain my way onto his horse in his stead. It was a relief not to be walking, but the horse trotting and crossing rivers and large rocks jolted my insides so bad that I threw up a couple more times.

After what felt like eternity, we reached our lunch stop for the day, I slid off the horse and crawled over to a nearby tree and lay down in the grassy shade, so incredibly grateful to not be moving anymore.

I didn´t eat much those next 2 days, but I was beginning to feel better by that evening…even well enough to go to the Hot Springs in Santa Maria with the rest of the group. It was an incredible setting, and it was so nice to get a sense of cleanliness after 3 days of roughing it.

Thankfully, the next day was pretty easy, without much climbing…just a long trek along the River Urumbata towards the train tracks leading to Aguas Caliente…the town at the foot of the mountains of Machu Picchu. It was now lush green jungle and we saw lots of beautiful birds, cascading waterfalls, and got eaten alive by swarms of mosquitoes.

The night before our dawn climb to Machu Picchu I was again, unable to sleep a wink. The entire next day I ran entirely on adrenaline and the excitement of seeing a sight I´d been dreaming about for nearly 20 years.

We set out at 3:30 in the morning with headlamps to tackle the very steep climb up the incan stairs to the entrance gates of Machu Picchu. It was a ridiculously steep climb, but it felt worth it when we claimed one of the first places in line to be allowed in. Walking into the ruins just as dawn was breaking is a spectacle I will not soon forget. Nothing can prepare you for that first glimpse of this wonder of the world, and as I gazed on this lost city of the Incas, surrounded by the mist enveloped green peaks, I couldn´t help but be overcome with emotion and tears flooded my eyes. It was so unreal…to finally be here.

We all raced through the ruins to get ” in line ” for permits to climb the famed Wana Picchu mountain, since only the first 400 hikers are permitted to get to its summit on a daily basis. Nearly 5000 tourists visit Machu Picchu on any given day.

After a two hour tour led by our guide Nico on the history and story of the city, it was time to head up the peak. I was so tired that I nearly fell asleep standing during the tour, so I´m not sure how I managed to summit the 700 metre climb. It was ridiculously steep and narrow, and having to make room for some people descending as we climbed was particularly precarious. I was a puddle. My legs shook with the effort. Just when I thought we´d reached the summit…we had to CRAWL through a very narrow tunnel like cave in order to emerge on top on the other side. It was barely large enough to push my body through.

The view made it all worthwhile…the ruins below us formed the shape of the condor and looked like a small spec all those metres below us. The bridge we had crossed the river on the day before was but a brown spec on the valley floor below us.

Most unfortunately, despite being the one person who had paid through the nose for this trip, I also seemed to be the one person singled out to return to Ollantaytambo and on to Cusco on the 2pm train- everyone else on the trip was reserved on the 6pm train. I was very upset at having to leave the site early as I wanted to spend the day there. Having said that, by the time I descended from Wana Picchu, and climbed up to the Guard House to take some of those iconic photographs…I had been walking for nearly 10 hours and I was completely wrecked. I would never have suspected that of our gruelling 5 day trek, the day in Machu Picchu was going to test me physically the most.

I was so dead that I decided to take the bus back down to Aguas Caliente. Sadly, I didn´t even get to say goodbye to the rest of my group, only Nico, who had tried unsuccessfully (bless him) to change my train ticket to the later departure.

By the time the train pulled into Ollantaytambo 3 hours later, I was convinced that I was going to spend the night here and get some rest, and take advantage of the location to see the Sacred Valley before heading back to Cusco the next evening.

Turned out to be a good decision. Actually relieved to be all alone for a change, I ate a quick dinner and then promptly fell asleep around 7pm…only to awake 14 hours later at 9am the following morning. I had needed it.

Peru Adventure Part IV

25 Saturday Apr 2009

Posted by Anita in Peru

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It has been too long since I last wrote, and if I don´t put pen to paper soon, figuratively speaking of course, I will forget what I have done this past week or so. I have just returned from a six day trek through the Peruvian Andes, the “Salkantay“, ending in Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley…but before I get ahead of myself- I will continue my travel account from where I last left you…standing alone in the middle of the night outside my hostel in Arequipa waiting for someone to let me in.

Here is the latest link to pictures from my last trek-

http://picasaweb.google.com/anitalgray/CuzcoSalkantayTrekMachuPicchuAndTheSacredValley2009#

Well thankfully, someone eventually listened to my persistent banging on the door and cries for help. “No, we are not open all night,¨I was told by a solemn faced young man who finally came to my rescue. ¨”Well, then don’t advertise that you are on your website!” I madly responded as I set my bags down in my room which would be my home for the short four hours I had before my tour leader to the Colca Canyon was picking me up.

The Colca Canyon is advertised as the deepest canyon in the world (which technically isn´t true..the Cotahuasi Canyon a few hundred kilometres from there is 150 metres deeper), over twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. I was excited to hike down to the bottom of it and spend a couple of days exploring its famous villages that house people who live at the bottom, isolated from the world around them, separated from the conveniences of public transport and a grocery store by a five hour climb straight up!

It was about a four hour drive to the canyon in our minivan…and I tried to sleep, to no avail. The altitude immediately started affecting me, especially since I hadn´t spent any time in Arequipa, and we were driving over a 4900 Metre pass. I felt lightheaded, dizzy, and generally quite out of it. We first stopped at the “Stone Forest” for some pictures, and though it was only a five minute walk, I was completely winded by the time we got back to the van.

My travelling party consisted of a lovely Dutch girl by the name of Mirjam (who I´ve been travelling with on and off since), as well as a couple from France, a couple from England, a guy from Montreal, Francois, and myself. It was a lovely eclectic group, but I struggled yet again with the fact that the French language is stored in the exact same space in my brain as the Spanish language, and switching one to the another is next to impossible!

After a fabulous buffet lunch we continued on to the “Condor” viewing area and took a few kilometre walk to reach it. Unfortunately it had begun to rain and the temperature had plummeted to the point where I was extremely grateful I had bought that winter jacket in Nazca. We didn´t really spot any condors and by the time we made it to our hotel on the canyon rim for the first night in Cabanaconde, we were all shivering and chilled to the bone. Some hot coca tea helped warm us up and (though I never really felt it) alleviate the symptoms of altitude.

The town itself felt extremely authentically rural Peruvian. There were only dirt streets, and women walked carrying their traditional parcels of goods wrapped around their shoulders, muddy children ran playing in the streets, chased of course by the obligatory plethora of homeless street dogs.

I slept under six blankets that night, and though I felt smothered, managed to keep somewhat warm (no heating in the hotel).

The next morning we started bright and early on our long trek down, down, down, into the canyon. We were blessed with warm sunny skies this morning much to our relief. The views were stunning (as you’ve probably already seen in the pictures I´ve sent) and the shades of grey rock turned to yellow and orange as we got closer and closer to the Colca River. Upon arrival at the “Oasis” where we would be sleeping, I was surprised to find an almost “resort like” set of swimming pools, palm trees, lounge chairs, and green grass…where our guide was busy setting up our tents. We all relaxed and swam in the pool while our lunch was prepared.

The food on this trip was amazing…the freshest of soups..asparagus, corn or vegetable, lots of stuffed avocado, chicken with rice and salsa…all home prepared. Wonderful.

After lunch, a few of us set off for our excursion to the next village up the canyon, Mallata, which was another 2 1-2 hour hike away. First we descended to the bridge across the river where we hungrily snapped pics of the churning frothy rapids before huffing it up the switchbacks over to the next “valley” within the valley itself. We had Alicia, an indigenous girl from Cabanaconde, accompany us on this trip and she showed us many of the plants along the way and the medicinal uses they had. For instance, we came across the Aloe Vera Plant, and placing its juice directly on the sun burnt arms of one of my fellow hikers, within five minutes there were two healthy brownish patches of skin in the middle of the red…amazing. Alicia was also a force of nature, hiking with barely any water, without let up straight up the hill wearing sandals. When it got really dark on the way back, she didn’t even need a flashlight…it was as if she knew the location of each and every stone as she walked.

The town of Malata was fascinating…so small and full of mud and stone huts, a little town square where we engaged a group of local kids in an impromptu game of soccer. I tried imagining what life would be like here, so far from the world far above, and found it very difficult. As I had mentioned before, it was dark by the time we made it back to the Oasis, but hiking with headlamps and seeing the glow of the stars overhead just added to the atmosphere and adventure of it all.

After another fabulous meal we all exhausted headed off to our tents. I had a quick swim in the pool under the night sky first, and climbed into my sleeping bag feeling somewhat worrisome alert as opposed to sleepy.

I didn´t sleep a wink that night. I tossed and turned and felt each hour drag by till the dreaded time of 4am approached and I knew we had to wake and tackle the monster climb out of the canyon before the heat of the day hit home. I later realized that insomnia is one of the popular symptoms of altitude adjustment. Ugh. To make matters worse, my period had started.

FANTASTIC!

That climb kicked my ass. I was beginning to wish I had decided to book a mule the night before for the 1400 metre climb, which took over 4 hours. It was horrendous. I don´t know if Ive ever been so tired in my life. But I made it through a sheer force of will.

Back in Cabanaconde, we greedily packed away a second breakfast before collapsing in the van and making our way to the hot springs! That was a welcome refreshment and offered some relief to my aching limbs.

I tried sleeping on our drive back to Arequipa but was unable to because of the windiness of the road we had to drive. However, after bidding our adieus, I grabbed my bags from the stupid hotel where I´d spent the first night and checked into my hostel which was just a few blocks from where Mirjam and Francois was staying. Knowing that if I didn’t go out for dinner right away I would simply pass out….I set out to find my new friends and grab some drinks and food with them.

We found the cutest little pizzeria and ate the melted cheese and welcome “taste of home” washing it down with a glass of red wine. It was some of the best pizza Ive ever tasted. At about 9pm, I´d been awake for over 48 hours and I crawled into my bed bunk and passed out.

The next two days were spent in a blissfully relaxed fashion, and I needed it after the crazy travelling of the past week. The first day I had breakfast with Mirjam and some of her friends she´d met in Bolivia in the main square overlooking the cathedral….they were a couple from Canada-UK and were travelling for TWO YEARS!! Wow. They had quite some stories to share…and encouraged me to move to Vancouver! Hmmmm..Food for thought. I then wandered the streets with Mirjam, dropped off some laundry, bought our night bus tickets to Cusco for the following evening, and then we both decided wed treat ourselves to massages!

Well, we got a little more than we bargained for. A cab driver dropped us off at a massage place….and the strange thing was that all the masseuses were blind. Weird, eh? Well, I thought….Blind people might make excellent masseuses since they have such a stronger sense of touch. Wrong. My female masseuse, who refused to listen to even the most BASIC Spanish commands like, “NOT SO HARD”, or “THAT HURTS”, kept insisting on punching me with her fists with all her might, and then trying to loop her arms around my neck and legs, contorting me to try and crack my spine. NO WAY. I put a stop to that.

Turned out I fared better than Mirjam, who´s male masseuse also massaged her breasts, which made her extremely uncomfortable. Feeling very weirded out, we ordered some chicken mole burritos and tried to laugh over the whole strange event.

That afternoon, I watched the sun set on my hostel terrace while swinging in a hammock. Ahhhhhh. Lovely. Then I treated myself to a movie! My hostel had a little cinema room with tons of pirated DVDs and Mirjam and I settled in with some chips and hot tea to watch “The Last King of Scotland”…which was a riveting albeit disturbing film which I enjoyed thoroughly. It was the perfect antidote to the last 3 days of hiking.

On my last day in the beautiful, white, second largest city in Peru…I decided to go be a tourist and spent the morning and most of the afternoon wandering around the incredible Catalina Monastery…a veritable city within a city. Nuns still live a cloistered life here, but in the times of the first Spanish settlement, they had quite the life complete with servants, flowing wine, and lots of parties! The buildings were absolutely gorgeous, all brightly painted in hues of blue and orange set against the white volcanic rock of the buildings themselves. If I had to be a nun, I would do it here…I thought to myself.

After more wandering, repacking of my backpack, collection of laundry, trip to the Internet cafe, and a lovely meal…it was time to meet Mirjam for our cab ride to the bus station….and our bus journey of 11 hours to Cusco….a journey that I shall fondly remember as “Death by Pan Flutë“.

Music videos of some guy playing Pan Flute for the first two hours was replaced then by incessant Pan Flute music for the rest of the journey while we tried to sleep in our reclining seats, which were so large, that for small women like Mirjam and I…made it impossible to get comfortable since we were sloshing around in them each time the mad driver took a hairpin mountain road bend doing 60mph…like feet in shoes four sizes too big.

We were exhausted upon arrival in Cusco (I seem to have begun a trend of a good nights sleep followed by a night of no sleep, and then a night of good sleep etc etch) but I was happy to see someone greeting our bus with a sign with my name on it! We got to my hotel (which was included in my trip to trek the Salkantay) around 6am…and were told that check in wasn’t until 11am. However, the very kind man at the front desk gave us a key to a twin room where he said we could sleep for a few hours until my real room was vacated. I could have kissed him, I was so elated. And I didn´t even have to tell him that it was my birthday!!

I´ll leave it there for now and pick up from here, probably tomorrow, where I will relate my stories of the trek and Machu Picchu!

Peru Adventure Part III

19 Sunday Apr 2009

Posted by Anita in Peru

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Its 4.30am and I am waiting to be picked up for my Salkantay Trek which ends in Machu Picchu next Thursday. It is going to be one of the hardest hikes of my life, covering 75 kilometres and going over a 4950 metres pass! I am excited, exhausted, and terrified at the same time. One things for sure, I´ll be coming back thinner.

I am sorry I didn´t get a chance to write you all yesterday. I was in bed most of the day suffering from the effects of heavy partying for my birthday. Thanks to all of you who sent their well wishes. It was amazing the fun I managed to have here in Cusco with only 11 strangers all meeting up at the last minute invite. Lots of fun, and singing, which is all important for me as you know.

It has been an amazing week leading up to this since I last wrote. I spent 3 days hiking in the worlds deepest Canyon, followed by two days of recovery in Perus southern city of Arequipa, followed by an overnight bus and acclimatizing in the continents oldest city – Cusco!

My guide should be here for me any second now, so I will probably write off now and write properly from Aguas Caliente if I can…the night before my big climb to Machu Pichu itself. Its so weird that after all these years of hearing that name, and imagining myself there…that I am actually about to set out on my own to walk to it! Hard to fathom.

Peru Adventure Part II

15 Wednesday Apr 2009

Posted by Anita in Peru

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Where did I last leave you hanging? I believe that I was just arriving in Pisco, dismayed at what I witnessed, a town that looked like it had been ravaged by civil war for 10 years…

Nevertheless, I was happy to be out of Lima, and set about using the afternoon to firm up some of my other travel arrangements (still minus an English guidebook!!). I booked a day trip for the following morning to the ¨Poor Man´s Galapagos Islands¨ of Las Islas Ballestas followed by an afternoon tour of the Reserva National de las Paracas. Then I spent all afternoon in an internet cafe arranging accommodation and my Inca Trail Salkantay Trek for when I arrived in Cuzco..(am leaving for Cuzco tomorrow night…so excited!)

The following day I headed out bright and early to the islands which are a natural wildlife reserve, home to literally thousand of Cormorands, Pelicans, blah blah blah birds (i´m not an orthonologist by a stretch), Humbolt penguins, a colony of 10,000 sea lions, and lest we not forget for the smell we were tormented with during the 2 hour visit…one of Peru´s primary exports= GUANO, or more commonly known as ¨BIRD SHIT. Wow it was bad. Somehow the smell made my already seasick stomach churn all the more and I had to stay seated much of the time, buring my nose into my shirt. The scenery was beautiful, as was the wildlife, but I am just such an, Í don´t know, ¨¨spoiled, over-travelled bastard¨´, that I´m left comparing it to other more spectacular places I´ve been to in the world. I know, I know, its awful. Today I had lunch with a couple who said they knew it was time to head home after travelling through South East Asia when they sat on a beautiful, pristine, white sand, turquiose water beach and thought ¨´Ugh! Another paradisaic beach…I´m so bored with them!´¨ It happens.

I spent the whole day with a small group of women from Argentina, Peru, and Belgium who had met living in Buenos Aires. It was my third day conversing with other people ONLY in Spanish! By this point, I was getting pretty good…and I even made my first joke in Spanish (though I can´t remember what it was at this moment). The afternoon took us to the Paracas Reserve which was interesting because of its vast sand dunes, rugged coastline ….very damaged by the earthquake, with visible 3 foot cracks in the rock caused by exposed fault lines. Our guide had me on the edge of my seat, as it were, as he recalled that day August 15, 2007…when he had taken tourists down to the beach and walked under the natural arch and cave only hours before the whole thing came down in the 7.8 quake. He explained how the shaking had started vertically and then moved horizontal, lasting an agonizing 4 minutes and completely flattening the city. There was a big celebratory mass taking place in the cathedral and all 400 or so souls inside perished.

We also learned about the Paracas culture which pre-dated Inca culture, with ruins dating back to 2100 years BC. They are credited with the design of the Nazca lines where I was heading in a few days…

After a nervous hour waiting at the bus station, with my hands and arms wrapped around my luggage (Pisco is very dangerous…I was told not to walk on the street after 3pm!! WTF!….People are desperate since they lost everything in the quake) I was taken by cab back to the PanAmerican Highway to rendez vous with my bus to Ica. I shared the cab with an annoying buddhist German traveller who kept talking about his infected foot, and how the pain and trouble it has caused him travelling, coupled with the suffering he experienced as a child, was a profound blessing. I bid him adieu with a heartfelt wish that he continued having horrible experiences on his trip that he could learn from…which he seemed genuinely pleased to hear. Bizarre.

The sunset against the desert from the bus was spectacular. I started worrying about the cab I was going to have to take to get to my next stop…the desert Oasis of Huacachina. Everytime I step into a cab on this trip, a small part of me wonders whether I´ll end up at my desired destination or…God forbid, some other locale where I might be robbed, raped, or worse. Its a worry shared by all solo travellers, especially women. Luckily for me, my driver Tony seemed very pleasant and happily chatted to me all the way to the Oasis.

I arrived in the dark and it took a while for me to find my hostel. I checked in, dismayed that there was no window in my dorm room…and wandered outside to grab some dinner. Having not spoken to a soul in English in over 3 days (the German dude did not count)…I couldn´t face another meal alone, and invited myself to sit at a table with 2 Australian girls and their mother. It was so nice to talk in English…but, I must admit…after listening to them chatter wildly about their wonderful friends and family reunion hiking the Inca Trail, and how 6 of them were continuing on to Bolivia, and how Mom had flown 36 hours to come spend a week with her daughter…I began to feel very sad about my going it alone. They left when I was still waiting for my meal to arrive…and I admit a few tears were flowing by the time I asked for my check. It was such a picturesque setting, even in the night, the sky full of stars, a nearly full moon reflecting against the lakes backed by mountainous looking sand dunes…but all I longed for was a companion that I could share it with.

The following morning I met up with two girls who had staggered in drunk to my dorm room at about 3am. They were the craziest travellers I have ever met…arriving in Peru with no money, working in Lima for a month for room and board, hitch hiking on local trucks from town to town, walking the train tracks to Machu pichu because they couldn´t afford the bus or train… They´d been in Huacachina for 6 days and talked to all the locals as if they´d been friends since childhood. We went for breakfast, stopped on the way for Lauren to try and talk one of the local drunks who was still sleeping in the street after their night of revelry into having breakfast with us, an effort which she thankfully gave up on after ¨´Rodofo´´ walked into a lampost and promptly fell down. I listened to another hour of their insane bohemian, drunken stories…and was relieved to go back to my way of travel…heading back to the room to grab my laundry and a book by the pool….how very boring and conservative of me.

That afternoon I decided to go sandboarding, an activity that Huacachina is famous for. Well, the company I went with had their marketing all wrong. The sandboarding was fun, but HOLY SHIT, the sand buggy we drove up the sand dunes in was absolutely, undeniably, the most insane, bone jarring, neck twisting, stomach churning, gut wrenchingly terrifying thrill ride of my life. These drivers are completely bonkers. I wondered how many people had died being crushed by the rolling steel mass of this cage like rollercoaster of an all terrain vehicle, as they careened around sweeping dunes at breakneck speeds and gravity defying angles. We would accelerate up a sand dune that was near vertical, and I kid you not, literally launch at the crest of the sand before crashing down the other side where the driver would immediately accelerate so that your stomach fell away with the drop like you were coming down a theme park thrill ride.

I had sand in every single crevice of my being by the end of the three hour…um….ordeal? I was still sneezing gobs of sand 2 days later! And they should have warned contact lens wearers like me that they would be rendered blind by the sand blasting your face while they raced around the moonlike landscape. The scenery was spectacular, and felt like we were on location for the next Star Wars movie. The sandboarding itself was fun except that my feet were too small and kept coming away from the velcros straps invariably throwing me into a cartwheeling fall, head over feet. After two descents, someone said ´´Did you know that someone died here last week?´´ WHAT? Apparently someone fell off their sandboard and broke their neck. Lovely.

I went down the next four dunes on my butt, using the sandboard like a toboggan. Way more fun, and a tad more safe.

I was so late getting back to the tour place that I literally had to run (sand clumped in my shoes) back to my hostel, deciding that I just had to shower and change before grabbing a cab back to the highway in time for my bus to Nazca. I still had sand all over me, but it was bearable for the 2 hour journey. I just made my connection.

Nazca is famous for the Nazca ´´Lines¨´ …strange shapes of creatures and symbols that can only be seen from the air. There were many theories that I had read about why these Lines were created and how, and I was hoping that my pre flight would include some more information about their genesis. Unfortunately that was not the case.

After cabbing it to my hotel, we were greeted by a roadblock for another Easter Procession…so I walked the last 4 blocks through hundreds of people, with all my bags, still crunching with sand, to my place for the night. Setting down my bags, I ran out into the street again and joined the throngs of candle waving Catholics eager to throw flowers on the statue of the Virgin Mary…and a glass coffin with an ephigy of Jesus inside. I turned left out of the crowd, ran ahead of the procession and then doubled back on myself to get photos ahead of the crowd. It was quite beautiful.

Not that hungry, I bought some fruit from a street stall, and after wandering around the city munching away for about an hour, I headed back to my room, re-de-sanded myself in the shower, and collapsed into bed.

The following morning I woke early, took some travel sickness pills, ate a tiny breakfast and headed out to the local airport. The plane was a 5 person Cessna, and being solo, I got to sit next to the pilot. Despite the medication, I still felt very sick, especially when the plane banked and circled again and again around each figure allowing us to get a good look and hopefully a photo of the shapes below. Overall, the lines were much harder to detect than I had imagined…and despite it being a curiosity satisfier, I was left feeling a bit disappointed in myself for wanting to do this just to have ´´ticked it off´on my to do list of Peru.

Oh. I forgot to mention my next wondrous experience with my lovely bus company Ormeno. I had booked a trek to the Colca Canyon for the following morning, and the company were picking me up at 8am sharp from the bus station in Arequipa. I had checked, rechecked, and triple checked with Ormeno staff and website to ensure that the bus would not be late. I was assured, repeatedly, that the scheduled arrival time was 6am, but normally it arrived around 7am, and occasionally in heavy traffic 730am. However, on arrival in Nazca at 11pm the night before, I reconfirmed my ticket only to be told, mockingly I might add, that the bus to Arequipa NEVER arrives before 9am, and that EVERYONE should know this. I was infuriated…and was told that I should book the afternoon bus leaving Nazca at 3pm, getting me in to Arequipa at midnight. Could I do this over the phone in the morning? Of course, no problem, I was told.

Liars. All of them. In the morning I called, having decided to take the afternoon bus, and was told ´´no its not possible, you must come to the bus station to change ticket. Must come soon as its Easter weekend and nearly no seats left´¨. So, after my flight…instead of being able to take advantage of the free lunch and pool at the next door hotel, I had to taxi it another 20 minutes to the bus station, and 20 minutes back to my hotel just to change my stupid ticket. And when I got to the bus station, the guy at the counter just looked at me blankly and said he couldn´´t change my ticket. I learned how to give violent protest in Spanish…to which he shrugged his shoulders, picked up the phone, mumbled for about a minute to someone, then handed me back my ticket and said ¨´its ok…come for bus at 3pm´´. THAT was what I HAD TO COME IN PERSON FOR? To listen to your initial refusal, then one minute phone call? No new reservation, new ticket, new seat assignment? I left in a huff, telling him that not one person working for Ormeno had told me the truth yet. Ugh.

After a mountain of cab fare, I packed the rest of my stuff and set out in sun baked Nazca to find a winter jacket for my high altitude trek to the Colca Canyon. Where was I going to find this? In the parched desert? I was having no luck, then stumbled on place that had a few reasonable coats, and grabbed the only one that fit, paying way too much for it I´m sure.

The bus to Arequipa was about 9 hours….and they played 3 action packed, violent, LOUD, movies back to back. Crash, followed by Death Sentence, and a Jet Li film to finish us off. By the time the martial art film came on…about 2-3rds of the bus was trying desperately to sleep, so I went downstairs and suggested that they put the movie on in English with Spanish subtitles (all movies were dubbed in Spanish with English subtitles…weird huh?) and turn the volume down since all were trying to sleep. She nodded, seemingly in a daze. They changed the movie into English…but then turned the volume UP. Jesus. I jammed in my earplugs and tried to sleep listening to the sounds of incessant fighting. Oy.

The bus was late. I got in to Arequipa at 3am, was dropped off at my supposedly open 24 hour hotel, looking forward to my 4 hours of sleep…only to find that no one answered the door and I was left standing on the street, in the dark, with all my bags, wondering if I was facing a cold night alone on the street….I´ll leave you there…wondering what happened as this letter is long enough by now!!

Peru Adventure Part I

12 Sunday Apr 2009

Posted by Anita in Costa Rica, Peru

≈ Leave a comment

When I last wrote you, I left off at the point where I was saying farewell
to Central America and heading to the airport for my solo adventure in Peru.
Well, what an adventure it has been so far.

We´ll start with the saga of the guidebook. All travellers know that a
guidebook is essential to any foreign excursion. Especially when you are
doing a ¨DIY¨deal, it is essential to know what there is to do, where you
can stay, how you get to places etc. Without said guidebook, one might say
that you feel somewhat paralyzed, and that’s in a country where you speak the
language, and buses arrive on time, and people tell you the truth when they
are selling a trip. But not Peru. Here, being without a guidebook is
extremely difficult. As I found out on Monday.

On my last night in San Jose, I went searching for a guidebook in several
large bookstores. They had all kinds of books from all of South America but
nothing on Peru. ¨You´ll find one at the airport, they told me¨. No
problem.

SO, at the airport, departing San Jose, there were plenty of guidebooks,
hundreds in fact, but they were all for Costa Rica. Not sure why that would
be necessary if you´re leaving Costa Rica, but oh well. I figured the same
would be true in Lima, and I would find myriads of books in the departure
area of the airport. I wasn´t too concerned. However, upon arrival, to my
dismay ‘ I found lots of travel guides but NONE for Peru…for Rome, Athens,
London, Europe, Chile, India, Nepal…anywhere you wanted to go, except the
country YOU HAD JUST ARRIVED IN. When I asked, I discovered that it wasn´t
that they were out of Peruvian guidebooks, they just didn´t carry them!

Ok. Deep breath. I´ll find one. Stela´s family had very generously
offered to let me stay with them in Lima. Her brother, Saviour, met me at
the airport and we walked out to the car. I then saw her father, 76 years
old, Jose ¨Pepe¨ Diaz standing in the heat with his walking frame in the
heat and I just wanted to give him a hug for being so kind.

The Diaz family were wonderful to me and extremely hospitable. It was
also the greatest Spanish lesson of my life, I think I spoke more
Spanish in that one day than I have in the last 10 years. I also
learned, to my horror, that I´ve been saying certain phrases that mean
something completely different than I originally thought. Apparently,
when in the past I have commented to someone ¨Wow, its so hot, and I´m
so tired…but I´m excited to be here¨ I have actually been saying
¨Yeah, I´m hot stuff, and I´m so married….but I´m sexually aroused.¨

Oops.

I immediately noticed with the Diaz family just how patient everyone
is here with one another. After driving to their family home and
dropping off my luggage, Savior and I sat and chatted for a while. I
asked him what the plan was..and he said that he was waiting for me.
¨Where is your Dad´´ I asked, ¨¨in the car, waiting for us!¨¨ So
bizarre. I was sure that I was waiting for them.

So off we went to find the local tourism office and enquire after
finding an English language guidebook. I couldn´t imagine it to be
too difficult. Well, they sent us to 3 different bookstores, and we
ended up fighting traffic for the next 4 hours, disappointed at each
store that had lots of guidebooks, but none on Peru. I felt so awful
to be wasting their time, not to mention gas for their car, and the
fact that they were all hungry. Pepe kept telling me not to worry,
because if I was a friend of his daughter, then I am also his
daughter. He was so sweet.

This all would be stressful enough, except that, did I mention, Pepe
really can´t drive to save his, and ultimately, our lives. The entire
time we were in the car I was braced for a metal twisting, screeching
brake, people yelling collision. Pepe drove very slow, causing every
car to honk their horn at him, yell angrily, and drive madly around
him. Because he drove so slowly, he kept stalling the car…when he
tried to rev it from 5mph in 3rd gear. We would stall in the middle
of an 8 way intersection, and I would just close my eyes and brace for
impact. I ts a miracle we survived.

At one point, Pepe decided he didn´t want to turn right, and turned
left into oncoming traffic, honking his way through cars, in order to
make a U Turn. It was absolutely terrifying. I asked Savior why he
didn´t drive, and he said that he didn´t want to pass the exam. I
don´t know, I wouldn´t let my dad drive me around if I felt that each
venture out of the house might be my last.

At one point, Pepe just stopped the car dead in the middle of the
street and started to get out of the car. It took him about 10
minutes, after which he stood there and peed. It was
very…interesting.

After an exasperating time looking for the damn book, we gave up and
decided to go buy my bus ticket for tomorrow to Pisco, as the lady at
the tourism office had warned us that since it was Holy Week, I MUST
buy tickets today, I couldn´t buy tickets in the morning, and the bus
might be sold out.

I kid you not, it took another hour and a half just to crawl through
traffic MADNESS to get to the bus station, then another hour waiting
in line to talk to an incompetent sales agent who moved at the speed
of tortoise on valium. The bus company had been recommended to me..it
was called Ormeno‘ it was supposed to be the nicest of the companies,
and the safest. However, I really think they should change their
slogan from ¨´We are the people who help people travel´….to ´´We are
the people who make it as difficult as possible for you to give us
business!!´´

The following morning, I arrived, early. The bus was an hour late and
wait for it…there were only 2 passengers on board. We had to spend
5 hours arranging tickets for THAT. I don´t understand why people
can´t just make bookings on the phone or the Internet, especially
since it is a city clogged to a full stop with traffic. Apparently,
as I´ve discovered over the past few days, you can ONLY change your
ticket IN PERSON, AT THE BUS STATION, even if that means you have to
spend an entire afternoon and taxi fare going back and forth.

That evening the family and I went to have Chinese food, which was a
little odd for my first day in Peru. However, I did try a Peruvian
staple of Inca Kola…the Peruvian soft drink of choice which is
bright yellow and tastes of bubble gum. By the time we finished
eating it was 11pm, and I still had to go to the Internet to print AT
LEAST one chapter of the Lonely Planet,…which ended up taking
another two hours to print, no laser printers here!

Needless to say, I was extremely sleep deprived in the morning, but
caught my bus to Pisco and felt quite relieved to be leaving the dirty
metropolis. I loved staying with the Diaz family, I only wish I had
had the time to watch them teach in their local folk ´´Marinera¨dance
school….

The bus itself was very comfortable and despite being tired, I
couldn´t resist watching Marley and Me even though it was dubbed in
Spanish. These Ormeno Spanish movies have been really improving my
language skills. I arrived in Pisco having balled my eyes out after
Marley had died, and then nearly started crying when I looked at the
city I was entering for the night.

It looked like what I imagine war torn rural Iraq to look like.

The roads were dusty, buildings completely destroyed, thousands of
makeshift homes made from mud and clay….The earthquake of 2007
clearly had very visible remnants of its impact, and rebuilding has
only just begun.

I was beginning to wonder what my hotel would look like, but I was
extremely pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful, clean, courtyard,
with restaurant, and very welcoming room with breakfast for 16 bucks!

I have to end there…to be continued! I am currently in the Colca
Canyon, so I might not be able to write again for a couple of days…

Hope you enjoy!

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Anita Go Travel

~ Life as a passport, one stamp at a time.

Category Archives: Peru

The Cordillera Huayhuash Circuit Part II – Free Donkeys and Hot Springs

The Cordillera Huayhuash Circuit – Part I – Guts and Glory

The Santa Cruz Trek – 4 days of spectacular scenery and suffering

Peru Adventure Part VI

Peru Adventure Part V

Peru Adventure Part IV

Peru Adventure Part III

Peru Adventure Part II

Peru Adventure Part I