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Published: September 27th 2010
Tahlei Altitude is a bitch. Climbing stairs makes you feel like an overweight smoker. Shampoo, sunscreen, moisturiser - everything erupts in a messy reminder that the air pressure has changed. And that change in air pressure is probably to blame for the stomach problems we all suffered after taking an overnight bus from sea level to 3,000 metres. But with such heights comes the potential for exciting descents! Whether on a mountain bike or a sandboard, we have had some of these exciting descents lately.
We arrived in Huaraz, the capital of the Cordillera Blanca, home to something like 23 snow-capped peaks higher than 5,000 metres, and the hulking Huascarán, Peru's highest peak at 6,768 metres. No matter how comfortable the bus, so overnight journey is going to be enjoyable. We emerged bleary-eyed and exhausted into the blazing sunshine and refreshing mountain air, clearly easy targets for the awaiting touts. We tried to assert our own hotel choice and took a taxi there, but it happened to be just around the corner and the touts followed us on foot, ready to offer their helpful service once it appeared that our choice of lodging was closed. We ended up just
Huascarán
The view from the terrace of El Jacaldown the road at their recommendation which turned out to be a winner. El Jacal was a nice family run hostal with comfortable rooms at very reasonable prices. It also had a big roof top terrace from which to enjoy the views of Huascarán and the other peaks of the Cordillera. One of the touts, Max, took us up there as soon as we arrived to enjoy the view and to give us the low down on his tour services. We avoided committing to anything of course, and went off to have a sleep for a couple of hours. Max was obviously quite desperate for our business because he was still there when we woke up a few hours later, ready to pounce with yet more pamphlets and follow us down the street pointing out his office. He put in the hard yards but unfortunately for him he didn't get anything out of us.
We went for a bit of a walk around the town of Huaraz, which is nothing particularly special itself. It is all quite modern due to a huge earthquake which basically destroyed the city in 1970. EVen the cathedral on the plaza is still under
construction. We went to Cafe Andino for lunch, which was recommended to us by Alex in Huanchaco. It is an American owned place, and quite pricey, but it is one of the coolest cafes I've ever been in. Plus it has a library and tons of magazines and comfy lounges so you can hang out there for hours. We had lunch and tried coca tea for the first time, to ward off the effects of the altitude. I'd heard its gross but it just tastes like green tea so I liked it. I've had quite a bit since then.
Joe and Fiona only had two nights in Huaraz as they had to be back in Lima for a flight to Santiago, so that gave us one full day to try to experience some of what the mountains have to offer. We decided our experience should take the form of mountain biking, so we went off in search of an agency that could offer it. The recommended agency for mountain biking was closed but we found Galaxia Expediciones, and they seemed to know what they were talking about, so we booked in for a 40 kilometre, all day, downhill mountain
biking extravaganza for the next day, to begin with a hotel pickup at the ungodly hour of 6am.
The 6am start turned out to be a total waste of time that could have been much better sleeping. They picked us up very promptly, then promptly drove around the block and stopped at a restaurant for breakfast for an hour. We were sharing transport with two different groups of trekking tours, one of which was a four day hike, so maybe they needed that breakfast injection, but we certainly didn't. It wasn't a fanatstic start. Then during the journey to the start point we stopped various times to look at views that we would be riding past again later, but that the trekkers wouldn't see, so again another waste of time for us. It would have been good to have been provided dedicated transport just for us bikers, a sentiment that would felt again before the day was out.
Finally we made it to our starting point about midday. It took such a long time to get there because we started our descent at a mountain pass at 4,800 metres, in the shadow of Huascarán on one side and
Kyle
at the beginning of the ride a group of glacier covered peaks on the other. The view was amazing, especially looking back down the winding road that we had just come up and which was to be the first part of our ride. We were introduced to our guide, Charlie, whose English was very basic but who was keen to practice, and who was wearing an awesome Dr Seuss Cat in the Hat jumper (incidently, I discoverd that The Cat in the Hat is called
El Payaso - the clown - in Spanish. Not quite the same, is it?). Soon we were on our way, gripping tightly to the breaks and trying to keep the eyes on the road even with spectacular vistas opening up in front of us at every turn.
The first part of the ride was the steep, twisting descent to the lakes of Llanganuco, at about 3,800 metres. It took us about 2 hours to descend that 1,000 metres. There we left the road for a little bit of single-track technical riding which I sucked at terribly, but Kyle really enjoyed. We took a break beside a freezing glacial river with the mountains now behind us. A bit further on we
stopped for lunch at the lower (female) Llanganuco lake. The two lakes are a vivid blue due to the glacial run-off and are spectacularly located at the end of a deep gorge with steep rock walls towering above. The view was great, the "lunch" was not. We had been told lunch would be provided, but we weren't told it would consist of a banana, mandarin, a chocolate bar and a few biscuits. For a whole 12 hour day it wasn't really sufficient. By this stage our bums and hands were very sore, and the wind picked up and rain threatened. I would have chucked it in there if we'd had the option, but there was no back-up vehicle so we had no choice but to continue.
The first bit after getting back in the saddle was excruciating - those bumpy dirt roads are not kind on the behind - but soon the terrain changed and the new vistas were invigorating. We emerged into warm farmland with green fields backed by the spectacular mountains, little children waving at us from the side of the road and village people in their traditional dress working the land. The road also became a
little smoother and with less turns we were able to go much faster downhill. That was probably my favourite part of the ride, except for the ubiquitous
perros bravos and a stray cow that almost charged me.
At about 5.30 we arrived in the old town of Yungay. The old town is actually a barren stretch of land where the old town used to be before it was buried by an avalanche / mud slide cause caused by the 1970 earthquake. A huge piece of ice broke off Huascarán and fell into the lake; in eight minutes the resulting wave of debris had buried the town, killing just about all the residents. By some stroke of luck the village children were at that moment attending a circus set up on a nearby hillside, which saved them from the fate of their parents, but left many orphans who were adopted out to Spain and other countries. The new town of Yungay has been rebuilt a short distance away, while the old town has been consecrated as a cemetery. It was an eery and powerful feeling standing there and imagining the destruction of that day forty years ago.
Back in
the new town of Yungay we sat in the plaza to wait for our return transport, and wait, and wait. Again, not having our own vehicle became a problem. We were half an hour behind schedule arriving so we missed the bus of one tour group, who left without waiting. The second group, who had been doing a day hike to acclimatise before attemping a 10 day trek, had experienced altitude problems and so were running late themselves. We waiting for about an hour and a half as it grew dark and cold, sustaining ourselves with the few remaining sweets we had for lunch. Poor Charlie was pissed off, and eventually decided that we had to find our own way back. He had found a station wagon taxi and had pulled apart and loaded in four of the bikes when the bus finally turned up, so he had to unload the taxi again and argue with the taxi driver about paying for wasting his time. We felt bad for him, and also for ourselves seeing as it was now 7.30 and it would take another hour to get back to Huaraz. In short, we had a great day but I
wouldn't recommend Galaxia for their mountain biking. It was no Biking Dutchman of Cotopaxi fame, that's for sure.
We got back in time for Joe and Fiona to shower and head off to get their overnight bus to Lima followed by a flight to Santiago. I don't know how they did it. I needed the whole next day to recover and be able to walk properly again. I would have liked to do some sort of hike in the area but I was so sore and the altitude was still affecting us so we said goodbye to the mountains the next day and took another long bus, this time to Lima. We passed some spectacular scenery; the jagged glacial peaks of the Huayhuash Cordillera, deep gorges and desert coast falling in cliffs to the pacific ocean. Lima was just a place to break up the journey. We spent one night and took a quick walk to the "beach" in the morning, which was actually a walk to a shopping centre on a cliff overlooking a beach that you couldn't get down to. Then we left for Huacachina, a five hour bus ride away.
Huacachina is an interesting place.
It is just outside of the city of Ica, and I don't think you can call it a town. It's a desert oasis, a small lake surrounded by palm trees and ringed by restaurants and hotels. Beyond that it is a sea of immense sand dunes, which provide the only entertainment in town - sandboarding. On our first afternoon we didn't sandboard though. We checked out a few places to stay and ended up with a huge room overlooking the lake for only 30 soles - probably the best view in town. It was at a place called Sol de Ica Nice, where they also made their own
tejas - the local sweet, caramel with fruit and covered in chocolate. Yum. In the late afternoon we started walking up the biggest sand dune, to the north of the lake. We soon discovered how difficult it is to climb a steep dune and we didn't make it to the top, just high enough to have a view over the endless sand and to watch the sun set. Very romantic.
The next day we planned to do the sandboarding, but it is impossible during the day as it gets too hot;
we had to wait until late afternoon again. We spent the day in Ica catching up on blogs until finally the time came. We got some beaten up old boards from a nice old guy for only 3 soles each and started another very tough climb up the dunes, this time to the south. God it was tough, my chest was burning, but eventually we got to a good spot and I prepared for my first ever sand board ride. It was so much fun, even though you had to climb, panting, back up after each go, and despite the fact that I stacked it on every run, and in spite of the sand that I had absolutlely everywhere. I wished we'd done it the day before as well. Kyle was much more elegant than me, but he has done it before, so I don't think that counts. I definitely won the award for the day's best fall, when I went rolling down the hill, arms flailing. I think I even had an audience for that one too. How embarassing.
We watched the sunset again and then headed back to the hostel to wash very thouroughly, but not thouroughly
enough as I still had plenty of sand in my ears at dinner and had to have a second go. The next day we said goodbye to the dunes, but not to the desert as our next stop was Nazca, where Kyle will take over....
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bob watson
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Sand skiing now that takes me back,we used to make sand skis out of old floor boards and wax the bottom and fly down the dunes at belmont south beach before the rutile mine went through and flatend them all,I know what a thrill It is.Hope you got over your raw fish episode.Not a good idea Tahlei. Love Daddididdums.