We returned to the bus station again in the morning to catch the 8:30am bus to Cabanaconde. The journey took 6 hours with no official toilet stops. So at the control gate into the Colca Canyon the bus stopped and I took the opportunity (along with a few others) to look for a toilet. No toilet. Everyone dispersed to look for a spot to squat with dignity. The bus started moving off before I was back aboard, but luckily it headed in the direction of where I was so hopped on as it passed by. Surely it would have waited?!

The 4 hours to Chivay was mostly along the arid plateau where we saw herds of vicuñas, alpacas and lamas grazing on the vast valley. I had a member of a band sat by me who kept breaking wind, which was particularly unpleasant since he was pretty much sat on top of me anyway. At Chivay Mum and Alex went to the toilet while I bought the park entrance tickets, and then we swapped. Once again the bus was pulling out as I emerged from the station building, and I boarded to find Alex stood in the cockpit arguing with the driver who was refusing to wait for me! Complete jerks!

We had 2 more hours to Cabanaconde, which were really spectacular as followed the Colca Canyon, which apparently is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and lined with terraces and farmers working in them. For this stretch another member of the band was sat by me, although kept turning round to kneel on his seat and stank of BO... luckily he gave up sitting altogether and was replaced by local campesino women dressed in colourful skirts and hats.

We arrived at Cabanaconde plaza at 2pm and were greeted by Louis, who owns the Pachamama hostel that we had reserved. He walked us there and we found that not only was the place a building site (inside and out, as they were digging up the main (dirt) street outside), it was heaving with french people (so much so that french was the default language) and the entire town was without electricity. Just as we were discussing what to do with the afternoon it poured with rain, which apparently is unusual before December. Louis told us of his concerns for the new concrete floor he had laid, as it was possible all the water would end up in our room. We convinced him to make us some pasta for lunch (it was siesta time until 6pm and so nowhere else was open) and we sat in the dark, cold restaurant for a few hours trying to occupy ourselves by naming the 50 states and english counties.

Eventually the rain stopped and we walked to the plaza to book our return bus tickets with the sweetest little man with jaws teeth, and then on to the lookout that had fantastic views of the canyon, pre-Incan terraces and huge mountains surrounded in the post-storm clouds. In need of a hot drink we investigated whether a 1st floor restaurant was open, since there was no way of knowing with the whole town in darkness. To our surprise it belonged to jaws, and he most happily served us a coffee (and what we think was un-pasturised milk, although Alex drank it and she seems fine) which we drank by candlelight.

By the time we left it was dark, and I led the way home with Mums head torch. We decided to have dinner at the hostel since it has a huge wood oven to cook pizzas. The three of us tried hot piscos: tea, pisco, lime and cloves... by the time the electricity actually returned it was a bit of a shame. We went to bed and left the locals having a party for Louis´ brothers´ birthday. Lots of loud yet ineffectual fireworks.

Day 98 - Another early start after a cold and relatively sleepless night for me (not so for the other two sleepaholics). We went to take the 6:30am bus back towards Chivay / Arequipa, which actually didn´t leave until nearer 7am, and was absolutely crammed with the towns farmers all on the way to their plot of land. Again the hold was opened to let another driver out to take the return leg. Mum and I ended up standing in the aisle, but I really can´t portray just how rammed this bus was. We couldn´t believe the driver kept stopping to let more people on, and we all tried our best to make ourselves smaller so that the old women could squeeze past with their big bottles of fizzy pop in their napsacks on their backs. The most ridiculous thing was that the driver demanded everyone shut their windows to keep the heat in, which luckily most poeple ignored otherwise we´d have certainly died. The journey was supposed to take 20 minutes but it was 8am when we arrived at the Cruz del Condor viewpoint and despite it being hot and very uncomfortable, it was strangely fun. The locals were extremely friendly and helpful, and all told us where to get off.

We arrived at the viewpoint to find about 6 other tourists, and within half an hour all the tourists buses had shown up and the place was sawrming. Lots of campesino women were selling their handicrafts, as well as one, lone man with bright blonde, long hair and embellished jeans. The views of the canyon were spectacular, but despite everyone watching with baited breath, all the tourists went away without seeing a condor.

We took the 9am local bus (also late) back towards Cabanaconde and asked the ´steward´(bit of a strong word) to drop us off at the Incan ruins of Kallimarka. He pleaded ignorance until our persistence forced him to ask someone else where it was. When we got off he then asked for double the price we had paid to go the other direction and once he realised that he was going to get it, he gave us the correct change and we gave him the Vs as he drove away. The bus staff here are absolute b******s.

It was a fairly strenuous walk uphill to the ruins and I left Mum and Alex behind (who were finding the altitude hard) to hike to the top. There were views either side of the ridge of the terraces, river valley, Cabanaconde and the canyon beyond. As we made our way up we could here thunder in the maountains around us, and it wasn´t until we had got further down and towards Cabanaconde that it actually poured with rain. We returned to Pachamama for another pasta lunch (including alpaca meat) and then to the plaza in time to catch the 2pm and ultimate bus back to Arequipa. In the plaza we saw many of the local men and women undergoing a procession, followed by the band.

The bus was lots quieter than in the morning and we passed the Cruz del Condor viewpoint in relative comfort. Just as we were all accepting that we wouldn´t see a condor, we all looked out of the window and there were two flying high alongside the bus! It was really exciting! Aside from that the journey was fairly uneventful, except for the truly unbearable music coming from the driver´s cab, and an especially stunning bus-sunset as the light reflected on the volcanoes surrounding Arequipa.