Hola amigos!

Right folks, we have done quite a bit since our last blog so, in the words of the highly esteemed blogger par extraordinaire, Mr. Robert (Alexander) Strachan, “Pour yourself a big coffee, sit back – this ones a bit of a whopper!”.

On the road again...

We just about managed to drag ourselves out of bed in time for our ungodly 3am pick-up for the start of the Colca Canyon trip. The Minibus was, to say the least, on the full side. Sarah and I headed for the last few remaining seats at the rear of the minibus. 5 minutes later we picked up the last of the group who squeezed in to the one remaining ‘seat’ next to me – not much hope for me of getting some sleep on this particular journey! Still, Sarah quickly managed to nod-off – nothing seems to stop her from sleeping...

...except, seemingly, climbing above 4,900 metres. Slightly worryingly, Sarah began very suddenly to hyperventilate only for a short period of time (around 20 seconds) before going back to sleep – when we hit our first stop she had no recollection of it happening! It crossed my mind that we maybe should have taken the altitude sickness tablets!

Our first stop was for “breakfast”. This consisted of bread rolls and jam, although Peruvian bread rolls, as I have come to learn, are unlike anything I have ever seen or tasted – they look and smell great from the outside, but when you slice them in two, there is no dough in the middle! Completely hollow! A sort of bread equivalent of a kinder surprise, but without the surprise in the middle!

As we ate our breakfast, on long tables surrounded by groups of very groggy, pale looking gringos, no one was in the mood for talking, not even any polite small talk. Only 2 ½ days of this!

Worst still, there was no coffee, not even instant coffee! Instead, and those of you who have trekked at altitude will know this, they give you coca leaves and hot water. Apparently, the coca leaves (which contain alkaloid cocaine) are particularly effective against altitude sickness. We both tucked in hoping the theory behind the coca leaves would work!

El condor pasa

The next stop, about an hour and a half after breakfast, was Cruz del Condor. By now the day was really heating up and we managed to get some good shots of the condors passing very close by. They are really immense, impressive birds.

Back on the bus, we headed for our final stop, Cabanaconde, Colca Canyon’s largest town.

We had an hour to kill before lunch so we took it easy and wandered round the main square. Whilst we were resting on one of the benches, a couple of donkeys casually wandered into the square, only to be retrieved by an even more casual farmer and his dog a few minutes later.

After good lunch consisting of vegetable soup and pasta (and a large black coffee for me!), we set off in good spirits for the start of the Colca Canyon trek.

Our guide was a really lovely Peruvian lady from Arequipa called Geraldine. It was also good that we got on well with other guys in our group, a Scottish couple called Katie and Ryan who are on a year-long sabbatical and a German couple called Johann and Tina, who live and work in London and who are on a 3 week holiday in Peru.

Colca Canyon


So, a couple of facts about the Colca Canyon:
- It is about 100 miles northwest of Arequipa and, at 4,160m, it is the deepest canyon in the world (more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, apparently)

- The Spanish were responsible for laying out the towns (centred around churches) but the valley was formerly inhabited by the Collaguas and Cabanas and the Inca traditions and customs, as we would find out, continue to survive in the valley.

Shortly after midday, we started our descent of the canyon. The path was windy and rocky and, in places, narrow and unstable. Our guide, Geraldine, told us the story of a 32 year old Israeli guy who, last year, whilst travelling alone, fell from one of the narrow sections of the valley and was not found for a further 4 weeks – apparently not even by the condors.

Having descended the Canyon, we crossed the river on a very unsteady bridge which, admittedly, became more unsteady as I “rocked” it. Cue expletives from a very unimpressed Sarah!

We stopped briefly at San Juan de Chucco, the first village in the canyon. 30 minutes or so later, we reached Coshňirhua, where we would eat and spend our first night. Supper consisted of spaghetti bolognese and more vegetable soup which wasn’t quite the “feast” Geraldine had told us to expect but, given everyone’s fatigue levels, we all tucked in (some of us even going back for seconds!) and hit the sack at around 8.30pm, in somewhat basic but nevertheless comfortable accommodation. Apart from a few barking dogs, it was a really peaceful nights sleep – such a contrast to the noisy and bustling cities of Lima and Arequipa.

The next morning, Saturday 4th September, we had delicious chocolate pancakes for breakfast, prepared by Geraldine on the wood-burning stove, which apparently burns all year round, because of how low the temperature drops at night. How great would it be to have a wood-burning stove going all year round – I could almost see myself retiring here with a healthy supply of port and cigars!

With everyone in good spirits after a good nights shut-eye and pancakes for brekkie, we pressed on and headed through another small village called Malata.

There we stopped for a quick native drink called Chicha – essentially an alcoholic corn-based drink which is sour and extremely potent – I hate to think what state your head would be in if you over-indulged in this particular drink at this high-altitude!

Malata contains the official Colca Canyon museum – essentially just one room which contains interesting bits and pieces such as the stones they use for crushing the wheat and the hand-made tools used for ploughing the fields. The irony is that whilst their day-to-day customs, in particular their farming methods, have not changed in years, the mobile telephone companies have been quick to install the necessary technology so even the very elderly villagers, dressed in the true Andean clothes who travel miles to find wood to burn on their stoves, have all got mobile phones so they can communicate to their neighbours in the next village! And there I was thinking that the only means they had of communicating with the next village was through sending smoke signals!

In all seriousness, Geraldine explained that with a lot of sadness that in 10 years time she did not think the villages would be inhabited. The first problem is that the populations of the villages are decreasing at an alarming rate – once the kids have left local village schools, they head for larger towns such as Cabanaconde or even the cities such as Arequipa, Puno or Lima and see no reason to return. The second problem is that, with the exception of mobile phones, the older villagers refuse to change their customs and ways of life. Geraldine pointed to the example of the wood-burning stove – the villagers have grown accustomed and prefer to walk for hours with their mules to find wood to burn on their stoves instead of switching to gas.

Our next stop was an oasis at the bottom of the valley. It was a welcome respite from the intense sun and heat. It was definitely a time to chill and take it easy by the pool as we knew that in the afternoon we would need to climb the other side of the canyon and back to Cabanaconde, where we would spend the night.

After a good rest, everyone in the group seemed intent on taking on the canyon and thankfully no-one chose the easy option of hiring a mule at the bottom of the canyon to take them to the top. The path was very steep in places and absolutely exhausting work, especially when you have someone else’s bag to carry too!

Some 3 ½ hours later, absolutely shattered and in pitch black, we reached the top of the Canyon. And I thought cycling 110 miles in one day was tiring!

I quickly went from jubilation to despair as Sarah reminded me that we would have 20 days of this in Nepal...
That night proved to be particularly sleep-deprived. Shortly after arriving at our hostel in Cabanaconde, we heard what sounded like a marching band in the distance (I thought it had something to do with the regional and national elections being held in Peru on 3 October). Imagine the disappointment then when, at about 7.30pm, we forced ourselves up from our well-earned pre-supper rest to head towards the main square only to find that the music was in fact pre-recorded and being blasted out of a van! It didn’t seem to bother the locals though, most of whom seemed to be knocking back the booze! Some 5 hours later, the music and general noise levels eventually calmed down and I made a mental note to invest in more expensive ear-plugs. Naturally, Sarah slept through it all...
Chivay

The next day, we set off for Arequipa. Two hours in, we stopped at a town called Chivay which is famous for its hot springs, which we walked around but, with the temperature already mid-to-late 20 degrees Celsius, declined to swim in (the swimming pools which were heated by the springs were apparently 39 degrees Celsius)! No way José were we swimming in that!

Our last stop before arriving back in Arequipa was the highest point on road, at 4,910m. Fortunately Sarah managed to stay awake this time and avoided hyper-ventilating.

We got back to Arequipa and the B&B we had stayed in previously and, after an early supper, got a very early night. For one reason or another, we have definitely got into a routine of early nights and early starts to the day – we are usually asleep by 9pm and up at 6ish!

Ciao for now - next blog nearly finished - just need to add photos which is a very time-consuming process!

Steve & Sarah