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Published: July 18th 2006
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chicas
The start of the trek with snow capped mountains in view. I really believe that one of the best ways of making friends is by actively doing the things you enjoy. I had read about a three day trek from the mountains near La Paz to the forested Yungas in the valleys below. I made various enquiries at agencies in La Paz but at first I was having trouble finding anyone else to trek with. Then the agent at my hotel heard of another girl looking to do the trek and took me across the road to another agency. In fact there were two more ´chicas´waiting and we instantly found a common goal. The agent spoke good English and offered us a reasonable deal for guide, tents and sleeping bags plus a porter.
So early on a Monday morning Shiobaun (Ireland), Helena (Sweden), myself and a late entrant to the trek, Anthy (USA) met and were transported to La Cumbre a point just outside La Paz at 4800m. From here we were to decend 3500 metres over 60 kilometres to Chorro near the town of Coroico. As our guide, Sixto, and porter, Faustino, hoisted there heavy loads onto their backs we felt pangs of guilt but they assured us that it
cloud
Trekking into cloud, day 1 was fine. The views from the pass were of beautiful snow capped peaks above and barren valleys below. The sun was shining and after an initial group photo we set off down the trail, accompanied by a solo traveller, Abdel, a doctor from Paris, who was glad of our company and eager to help cure any medical problems that we might have. We were soon to become concerned on his account too as he trudged along under his huge heavy pack full of warm clothes, tent and supplies.
Sixto set a reasonable pace but was happy to let us practice our Spanish as we talked to him on the trail, originally built by the pre-Inca people, then paved during Inca times and extended later by the Spanish. We decended rapidly and passed old ruined buildings and llamas carrying loads of wood and chatted non-stop about travel and life. As we descended we passed through a low cloud hanging around in the valley which gave an earie atmosphere to the tall peaks hovering above us. We had been warned that the first night would be quite cold but as we pitched camp in a deep valley by a stream we
airplant
air plants and bromeliads were reasonably warm. We continued talking as Sixto and Faustino prepared the second big meal of the day and fell into our sleeping bags fully clothed and happy.
Anthy had her own bivvy bag but Shiobaun, Helena and I shared a tent which helped keep us warm during the cool night. Certainly I have camped in colder conditions in England despite all the warnings. However the next morning all of us felt our legs aching from the long descent the day before and lying on the hard ground. We got up and watched the children from the house where we camped chase the stray chickens around. Sixto came from one of the Aymara villages in the area and had a constant supply of sweets for any young, and not so young, children that we met.
Across a ricketty bridge over the river we entered a wooded area and could hear the lovely sound of the water tumbling over the rocks in the valley near us. We passed a ´swimming pool´but it was too early and cold for a dip. When we got to our lunch spot though Shiobaun and I braved the icy torrent and cooled off in
inca
Paved Inca trail and our first campsite in the distance the water. The trek was getting lower in altitude and much warmer. Abdel, originally intending to doze through lunchtime, found himself curing the blisters of Faustino and another young boy from the area.
The trail started to climb for a change and the four chicas marched on, still chatting, as we entered more forest. Through openings in the trees we saw vistas opening up of the primary wooded mountainsides and the blue grey parade of mountains marching into the distance. We left él medico´walking behind although we were concerned that he was struggling under his load which we judged to be about 35 kilos at least. Even our guides were carrying less weight. The path rose and skirted around the edge of a series of mountain ridges. The land often seemed to fall away below us in a steep precipice to the river now 1000 metres below us. By evening we reached our next camp site in a small village perched above the chasm below. We pitched the tent and then sat down to a game of Uno although we wondered where Abdel had got to. No sooner did he appear than he was called back along the path
chickens
Children chasing chickens at our first camp site to help a girl in another treking party who had torn her ligaments and was limping badly. Later he also had a closer look at Faustino´s blisters and discovered that it was mild frostbite from a previous mountain trek. Our guide, Sixto, was also kindly helping other trekkers with use of the stove and adopted yet another couple of trekkers, Ross and Nona from New Zealand, who were not faring nearly as well as us with their guides. We had certainly be fortunate with our choice of tour agency and particularly our guides who were ever helpful and smiling.
As we rose early on our final morning we all felt about 90. Our legs would hardly move at first. But soon the beauty of the trail helped us forget our pains and we made our way along the hot sunny mountainsides. The forest was now quite dense and we passed beautiful flowers: red and white lillies, begonias and other flowers that are only grown as house plants at home. It was hard to believe as we sweltered in the midday heat that two days earlier we had started off in all our fleeces and down jackets. Shiobaun particularly suffered
vista
View at the beginning of day 3 from the heat as we raced down the last section in order for some of our group to get the last bus back to La Paz from Coroico.
At last we piled into a tatty minibus for the journey back up to the town of Coroico perched on a ridge. Other travellers in town had braved the perils of cycling down the Most Dangerous Road in the World to get there from La Paz but we all believed we had had the better journey. It was sad as the four chicas started to separate and go their own ways as Shiobaun took the bus back to La Paz to recover. However three of us checked into Kory Hostel where the balcony and pool overlooked from high our route from La Paz. Later, to celebrate we drunkenly swam in the outdoor pool at midnight, which was something that we could not have done three days before and 3500metres higher in La Paz!
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