Arequipa and Colca Canyon

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Arequipa and Colca Canyon

One twelve hour luxury bus trip later, myself and an AMAZING (they might read this) bunch of Sydneysiders who i´d met in Cusco at Home Sweet Home touched base in Arequipa. I´d heard mixed reviews about the city, but other than not being too happy about getting thrown back into the desert after a too-short stay in the jungle, i was really impressed. It seemed incredibly modern after two weeks of Cusco, but the orange buildings and grand cathedrals lining the plaza (not to mention the fact it was FAR easier on the wallet than Cusco) quickly won me over during the hostel´s complementary rooftop breakfast on the morning of our arrival.




The things written on the buttons of this keyboard don´t match what appears on the screen when you press them. It is horribly annoying.




Showered and fed, my new friends Barbs, Andrew, Candy, and I hit the Plaza de Armas to do some negotiating with the multiple tour agencies to get a good price for a Colca Canyon trek. We visited three or four and got pretty similar prices and then left with the old "we´ll come back later" excuse that always makes the tour guides get desperate. Walking around the plaza and flipping through brochures, we were approached by Edgar, one of the friendlier guides that we´d spoken to earlier in an agancy and were planning to book with anyway. He´d chased us out into the plaza and offered us a fantastic price and so we took it and also booked our bus tickets for our next destinations.




A bus came around to pick us up from the hostel at 3am, and after brief introductions to our fellow passengers, we slept until we arrived at Chivay for a hearty breakfast of instant coffee that smelt a bit like shoes and a piece of bread. We started to question the quality of the tour that we´d booked at this point... But not too seriously. Edgar seemed like such a nice young man. A month and a half in South America has not improved my judge of character.




We visited the very popular Cruz del Condor after breakfast, a mirador overlooking the canyon in spectacular fashion, which is supposedly in prime position for spotting endangered Andean condors hunting for breakfast. We saw a few, but they were so far off in the distance that they were a less than imposing sight. Continuing along in the bus to Cabanaconde (where Edgar was supposed to be meeting us for the commencement of our hiking leg), we soon discovered that our bus companions would not be travelling with us any further when the bus pulled over next to some roadworks and we were surprisingly and unceremoniously dumped next to the road in the desert and told that our guide was waiting for us near a bunch of tents built from garbage bags which were barely visible off in the distance. I found this amusing, but this attitude quickly wore off when our guide emerged from the dunes and revealed he was not Edgar, but a local guide from Cabanaconde who spoke no English. Because none of the other guys spoke spanish, i flexed my newly schooled spanish skills and proceeded to completely misunderstand what was going on for about ten minutes while the poor guide tried to explain that the roadworks meant that the bus driver had been unable to give him the money he needed for booking hostels, buying food, etc. and someone needed to fetch the money from a nearby town. Eventually we set off.





The hike immediately led us straight down into the canyon past small villages and old ladies leading mules in ridculous heat. The scenery was amazing, and i chatted with the guide on topics varying from my religious beliefs, creation vs evolution, the existance of god, whether Messi or Ronaldinho was a better soccer player. The school also came in PARTICULARLY handy for translating things for the others e.g. "walk quickly through this part or rocks will fall on your head" or "if the sap of this plant touches your skin it will burn like hot water". In the afternoon, we passed schoolkids making their way up the valley past us. I was informed by our guide that they climbed the canyon walls every day for four hours to get to school in Cabanaconde. I was blown away. Guys also breezed past us carrying gigantic plastic pipes for plumbing for the bottom of the valley. All the building equipment needs to be carried by hand or on a mule because thee are no roads down to the villages, and the pipes were too long and awkward for a mule to deal with. The end of the day brought us to the aptly named Oasis Sangalle, at the bottom of the valley. It was basically a collection of wood huts and swimming pools in a little rainforest microclimate. Brilliant after a day hiking through dust. We met some British people who flound scorpions in their hut. They had photos and everything. I was pretty disappointed we didn´t see any.




The last day was a fairly tough three hour slog back up out of the canyon to Cabanaconde. A few tourists who paid extra rode by on mules. Lame. The climb out of the canyon was rewarded by hot springs and a decent lunch. We all tipped the guide a big sum for being such a lovely guy and also for being patient with our language issues. He took us to his house in Cabanaconde and gave us traditional hats to try on. He failed to tell us that they were only for women (although for some this would be immediately obvious... they are pink and floral) and cried from laughing when Andrew and i posed for photos.




We returned to Arequipa to abuse Edgar a bit. He didn´t told us he was sick that morning and couldn´t come. I considered telling him his earring looked gay, but decided against it. He gave us our bus tickets and sent us on our way. The other guys were headed to Puno, so we said heartfelt goodbyes, i donated my necklace, and i headed for the terminal. Unfortunately, this wasn´t the end of the journey. The bus was not quite the luxury coach Edgar had promised (unsurprised), but was filled with raucous local men who were not too happy about it being an hour late and having to wait in the terminal listening top the same four christmas songs (including one track in which there were no instruments, but only barking dogs) and took to stomping on the floor and shouting to make the driver below aware of their unsatisfaction. The bus conductor guys started yelling and it all got a bit hectic when people started stealing the food from the fridges and throwing things out windows. I chatted a bit to the peruvian girl next to me about dogs. I said that the angry men had no patience. She said they had no education.



Currently in Lima waiting for a bus to Trujillo, on the North of the Peruvian coastline. I´ve been to and left Haucachina, and the blog is once again way behind. I left my toiletries bag in Arequipa and my hair is so dirty you can mould it like dough.

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Photos

Arequipa
This was a photo of some kind of movie set being filmed in the Plaza de Armas. Just out of shot there was a giant camera. Still cool.

The Oasis
Waaaaaay down there

The maize farms around Cabanaconde
I borrowed this photo from Andrew... his camera does panoramas

Ladies hats
Our guide could barely stand up