Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
Colca Canyon 19/20/21 June
After having put off the trek for 3 days due to varying degrees of sickness - our trip started at 3am on Sunday 19. That's right, 3.A.M.....
We hopped onto the bus (actually that sounds rather too energetic - lets try "dragged our sorry tired arses"...) and crammed in between other travellers in varying states of sleep (deprivation).
After collecting 2 more people who managed to squeeze themselves between the rest of us, we set off.
Our guide introduced himself and explained how the day was going to progress. The journey was LONG and HORRIBLE. No chance of sleep. The bus was cramped, hot and stuffy.
We stopped for "breakfast" at Chivay. This consisted of bread rolls, and a selection of various other things that could have been cheese, ham, olives, basically stuff I was not interested in eating at some ungodly hour in the morning, particularly given the tender nature of my stomach over the past few days - so I swallowed a cup of coca leaf tea and snaffled a roll for later. Meanwhile the bus had disappeared with the driver and guide muttering something about being back in a bit.....worryingly vague.
Thankful for the opportunity to stretch legs and use a toilet, and very glad that the bus returned with all of our belongings we clambered back on board for the rest of the journey.
This part of the journey consisted of travelling along a gravel dirt track, a gravel dirt track in VERY bad condition. Our driver seemed to be of the "boy racer" variety who insisted on driving as fast and precariously as possible, overtaking other tourist buses and honking at them as he passed, swerving drastically to avoid the many potholes in the road.
By the time we reached Cabanaconde, we were both feeling a bit car sick - Katy especially. (I felt sorry for the girl sitting next to her who attempted to strike up conversation - 1 word answers for a whole minute...little did she know that Katy was concentrating on not throwing up)
Cabanaconde is where we get our first sighting of the many Condors that inhabit the canyon. We sit there for a while just relaxing, watching these amazing birds warming their wings on the morning air currents - all the time soaring higher and higher until they're right over our heads! They are a magnificent sight and really are huge creatures! We take a wander round for a different viewpoint and there is a bunch of local women selling various knitted goods ( mostly featuring Llamas) and selections of snacks and it's here that I get my first taste of bartering in a foreign country. I wanted a Snickers, she said 5 Soles, I said no way! So I ended up paying 4, that showed her. Of course I felt immediately guilty....
Begrudgingly we pile back on to the bus and speed our way along the most uncomfortable road in the world until we finally reach the start of the trek.
It's now about 9am - and it's already starting to get hot. We'd been warned about the heat on the trek, so we had come prepared. I put on the hat that mother had insisted I pack and slapped on some sun cream. I looked like a legend.
We gathered around our guide (Edgar) whilst he explained the history, the formation, the inhabitants, and the flora and fauna of the canyon.
And then it began....
When we decided to go on this trek, I guess we imagined like a nice walk in the canyon, maybe a few hills to walk up and down, a few nice sights along the way, a hard patch here and there that may require a brief period of extra exertion perhaps.
The first day is all down hill - that, you may think, would be easy. It's not.
The best way I can think to describe it is thus:
Imagine the set of stairs in your home (or even better, the stairs in your tower block up to the top floor when the lift has broken) Now imagine that you're carrying a weeks worth of shopping with you on your back. Now imagine that those steps that you're walking on are not the firm concrete steps that you're used to but instead are made up of loose stone, rocks, sand and various other forms of rubble that give way with each forward step your body makes. AND THEN imagine that someone is holding a heat lamp above your head. Repeat for 3 hours.
Our group was made of 2 young boys from University, a girl who was able to speak to everyone in their own language (turns out she was from Switzerland - figures), an Austrian couple who I suspected were older than us (it was the girl who had attempted to strike up conversation with Katy earlier), another young chap who was filled with youthful energy who looked spookily like a German guy I went to Uni with called Ollie, Katy and I and our guide. After beginning the trek feeling queasy from the rough bus ride, Katy was beginning to struggle and the youngsters had set the pace and were soon a way ahead of us. The sun was beating down and combined with the dust being kicked up by our feet and the people in front of us made for a very hot and dry journey down the mountain.
The route led us a winding path down into the canyon - the views are amazing, but you had to be careful when taking photos and certainly not to look up as you could lose your balance and topple over the edge into oblivion as most of the paths we were taking were very narrow with steep edges on either side. This only added to how challenging the walk was as extra caution and concentration are required to ensure that there is not a wrong foot put forward, otherwise there would be an inevitable tumble into the abyss below! Apparently the canyon claims one life every year....
At one of the few rest stops Eddie allowed us, he relayed a story of how a couple had gone trekking in the canyon on their own, after losing their way, the girl eventually found her way out and got help.....the man is still missing to this day.
So after that cheering story we continued on our way. We eventually reached the bottom, and gratefully sat down near the Colca River, unfortunately Katy was not in a good way. The travel sickness from the initial journey, the altitude, the physical exertion, the heat and a certain amount of dehydration all combined to bear down on her.
I wasn't expecting it to be as hard as it was - yet thinking about it, neither of us have done anything close to this kind of walk ever. Shorter versions of, maybe, but not like this.
We crossed a suspension bridge of the sort you see in Indiana Jones movies and climbed a short distance to our resting place for the day. And what a tranquil place it was, narrow streams running along a path through lush greenery that led us to a collection of small huts with a small garden. Here we were shown to our lodgings for the night - a very basic hut that had a double bed and a lightbulb.
We had a much needed lunch here consisting of soup, rice, potatoes and some cooked veg. Having finally admitted she wasn't feeling great, the guide also gave Katy some Ruda to sniff - a plant that grows up everywhere and when smelt or drank as a tea helps with headache, nausea etc. It was pretty pungent but it must have helped because she started feeling better after an hour or 2.
Our guide seemed to have some sort of relationship with the people living here, as no sooner had we arrived than he had kicked back into tracky bottoms, flip flops and was looking chilled.
He asked us all to help them get wood for a fire - no probs I thought, I can pick up a few sticks.....
Uh-uh. This was wood collecting on a whole other scale. We walked for a while until we reached a small clearing near a ledge in the mountainside. Our guide had brought rope and traditional woven cloths. It soon becomes apparent why. We're not picking up bits of wood, we're bringing down trees.
So with a small bit of wood tied to the rope, the young Dutch lad lassoes this over a branch. The material is then tied to the rope and they heave the dead tree towards them. I join in and after much heaving (and with me nearly disappearing into the shrubs below on the hillside!) we eventually hear a crack and the tree gives way sending us all flying backwards. I feel caveman.
The tree gets broken down into manageable pieces and tied up in colourful woven slings to be carried back to the where we are staying. We play kick around with the little girl that lives there. She's adorable. And I've never seen a girl kick a football like she does, and certainly not a 4 year old! A bit later when she has worn all us boys out, Katy joins her for cooking lessons in the garden. Language barriers are not a problem and cooking with mud and plants is apparently the same all over the world.
A fire is built and we all sit around chatting and drinking rum and coke. The sky is amazing, so clear and with so many stars, which 4yr old Andrea teaches Katy are called "estrellas" (which of course anyone who drinks the beer will know...)
The next day, we set off after a breakfast of thick pancakes with sugar and jam for a trek through the valley and a couple of the villages therein. Isolated villages, with very little resources. These villages have only just received electricity in the last year. They have a small church, a small school (to which all of the children from the neighbouring villages attend, walking through the mountains for at least an hour to get to) and one rather ingenious chap has built a small museum!
We arrived at the small hut containing the museum, where the host gave us a drink of homemade "Chicha" beer. This local brew (made from corn) is traditionally offered to the "Pacha Mama" (Earth mother spirit) by pouring a small amount on the ground (wierd I know) and then cheers-ing your fellow drinkers ("salud!") and finally taking a drink. It smelt awful but actually tasted alright. Apparently for traditional festivities, they leave it to ferment for about 9 days to about 15%abv... but for us tourists it was only brewed for 2 days. Bah!
At the museum, I was given the dubious pleasure of wearing a hat that resembled a lampshade - something which is traditional dress for the chaps in the village apparently....The museum contained items used in everyday life for the local people - and some intriguingly stuffed local animals.
After this interesting diversion we continue along the mountain path. The path today is less demanding than the day before and we can afford to take in the scenery more as well as hear about the way in which the local mountain people live off the land. It really is extraordinary to witness their way of life. Going to the next village means at least an hour scrabbling across rocky paths, alongside which runs an incredible water system in the form of a small stream carved into the ground. There is one medical facility in one of the towns which is used only after the local medicine man has exhausted his herbal remedies. Once a month the 2 resident doctors climb what looks to us to be sheer rock face to visit the most remote families living in the tops of the mountains. Electricity is so new that they don't use it much - a radio or TV is an exceptional treat, but all cooking is still done with firewood. We learn about the various cactuses in the canyon and what they are used for. In particular there is one called Tuna which grows small white powdery-looking balls on its plates. When the white balls are carefully plucked from the cactus and crushed they produce a vibrant red stain - this is used to die fabrics locally and also dried and sold to the western world as a die, food colourant, even a colourant for cosmetics such as lipstick.
Our destination for day 2 is an oasis in the middle of the canyon. With a hot spring pool and lush green grass, this was a lovely place to relax. The room was more basic than the night before -the door was made of bamboo sticks, and this time had no light. There was also a resident spider that I neglected to tell Katy about.
I played football with the rest of the boys and a couple of others who were staying there. Katy got harassed and bullied by the demon-child that ran amok around the dwellings, terrorising guests. The evening was spent drinking more rum and playing cards. I discovered 2 disappointing things that evening:
1) The only card game anyone knows anymore is s***head. When faced with the prospect of playing cards with 8 other people, I was hoping that at least one person would be able to suggest another game other than s***head but no...
2) I was the oldest of the group. Dammit.
An early start was made the next morning. We left for the last days trekking at just after 5am whilst it was still dark. It was wierd working our way up the steep stone steps in the near dark, the moon being the only light.
We stopped a short while to lose the extra layers, it was already getting hot carrying our back packs and the sun was not even up yet. As Katy and I were ready to move on, we realised that we had lost sight of the rest of the group (who were again moving at quite a quick pace). I could see torch lights making their way up the mountain in the distance, but Matt and Joel (the 2 Uni boys) started to follow another guide. Fortunately the guide that we were following was leading 3 kids that we'd been playing football/cards with the day before, so knew our guide and knew his route so assured us that we would be meeting up with them soon. We followed this new guide for a while and actually found his pace to be much preferable to that of our own. He maintained a steady pace and made regular stops, allowing for water and breathers.
The route up the mountain was undeniably tougher than the way down. The terrain was similar, but the steps into the mountain required high reach and a steady focus. Add to that the considerable traffic on the way up, with other trekkers, guides and donkeys. Several times we had to stop to let donkeys pass, some carrying various loads, some carrying passengers (lazy gits!)
The path wound on and on - as we thought we were nearing the top, it suddenly got further away. The rest of the group had vanished up the mountain long ago. It was just Joel, Matt, Katy and I remaining from our group, passing and then being passed by various other groups of walkers. Our guide was following us most of the way complaining of the cold whilst we were sweating buckets!
As on the way down, you needed to be aware that any break in concentration could result in (quite likely) fateful drop down the mountain side. Our legs were screaming at us not to move any further - I think only the promise of breakfast at the top kept us going!
And so we finally made it. As we neared the top, we were literally counting down the minutes/steps, willing our legs to push on just a bit further. Exhausted but chuffed at the achievement, we had made it in just under 3hrs - not bad going at all, until we learnt the rest of our group had done it in 2hrs.
After a few minutes taking it all in (Katy shed a little tear) and witnessing a dramatic incident with a runaway donkey and a rather zippy little Peruvian woman, we walked into the small town where breakfast was laid on. Scrambled eggs on rolls, followed by the obligatory bread and jam - breakfast of champions.
And then back in the dreaded van......
So then we got to see all the sights that we didn't see on the way down - little villages with little churches and lots of local women dressed in traditional garb selling wares to unsuspecting tourists including photos with Llamas and eagles. We did however stop and see the magnificent terraces of the Colca Canyon, that stretch for miles and are breathtaking.
A lunch buffet was served at Chivay, which I thought was ok until I got back in the van.....
Uh-oh, not good tummy rumblings meant that I missed the really interesting sights of the valley of volcanoes whilst concentrating desperately on NOT needing the loo...
Disaster averted we headed back to Arequipa. Tired and glad that we'd had a pre-Inca Trek "warm up"......
- comments
Mark Sw Hola muchachos - another brilliant blog, thank you very much. Your story-telling is outstanding: the Colca Canyon is a nail-biting read that steams along right on the edge of a testing physical and cultural adventure until that triumphant emergence finally at the top of the valley. I was grateful for the rest stops and oasis along the way to get some respite but I am still drained. Also great pictures. I would have wanted to stay at the oasis forever. On the trek you are starting to look like the real thing. In the shots of you together, in the calmer times, you both look fantastic. Un apretado abrazo, tu padre and tu buen amigo.
Sheilagh Little After reading about the journey in the van I had to drink a large Estrella. Kate knows I wouldn't have even got in the van!! Great blog - you're both stars.....keep it coming.