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Published: January 8th 2006
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Could you get
two more extermes in a photo? View from the road to Cotahuasi The main thing the tourists do here in Arequipa is go to Colca caynon to see the Condors
- so I went to Cotahasi. Cotahuasi is the deepest caynon in the world, and bigger than the Grand Caynon in the States. It is about 12 hours in a bus, twice the distance to Colca caynon, and for that reason a whole lot less visited.
And after blowing my spare change on climbing Misti, I decieded a few days free camping was in order.
I didn´t really know where I was going, I just thought I would follow the river down through the caynon, and if I couldn´t find any easy way out after a few days I would simply turn around and hike back out.
I arrived in Cotahuasi at about 2am and slept in the town square for a few hours untill it was light. Now, I wouldn´t sleep in a town square noramally, but the great thing about the small untouristy towns is that they are fairly safe. So I made like a Blanket lady (if you have been to South American you´ll know what I mean) and streached out on the pavement.
One of the
best sections of trail snakes across this cliff face. The trail is about 8/9ths the way up the cliff face At first light I headed out of town, in the general direction I thought the main caynon was in (the whole place in caynon really). I came across a dude plowing a field and asked him which track would get me to Sepia, one of the few landmarks I knew the name of. He replied "abajo, no ma". So, abajo no ma I went.
I decided I didn´t want to walk on the roads, seeing that I can do that anywhere, so I looked for the dodgest looking Inca tracks I could find.
And lord, was I in luck. The place is riddled with trails that only a fool would walk lugging a Backpack. The first real track I picked went about 800 m up a shear cliff face above the river, and was little more than a foot wide, chiped into the cliff face, and paved with loose gravel, and I had only the air for company.
At one point two gaint Condors passed about 5 meters from me, actually below me, as I was rather high up on the cliff, and ciricled around for about 10 minutes. These things are huge;
Condors
that repeatedly passed me on the cliff face. They look far away, but that´s just my sucky camera huge enough to make a meal out of me.
After walking all day (the trails I took weren´t always the most efficient) I spent the night in a valley next to a village called Chaupo. So there I squatted down in a grove of trees (I hadn´t asked anyone if I could camp there, so I tucked myself under the trees) on a terrace with a lovely flowing irrigation ditch, which provided plenty of water and athmosphere.
I wasn´t keen to ask anyone if I could camp on their land, as earlier that day when I had asked directions to Chaupo, the farmer was quite insistant that I marry his daughter. It was quite ackward, so I was keen to aviod any repeat.
The next day was more of the same; kilometre after kilometre of walking hundeds of meters up shere cliffs or down by the river. Towards the end of the day, I got to a point in the trail where it seemed to go up on either side of the caynon- and either side was an hour stiff climb up, so I was keen not to climb up the wrong side. So I
This is the section
of trail at it´s highest point. I´m not kidding, it is about a K high, a foot wide, and has no hand rail. The whole trail is like this. It´s dodgy enough to make yout balls turn. decieded to sit down and wait for some sign for which side I should climb up. After about 15 minutes waiting, a guy and his donkey came a wandering down the trail, and supprisingly it was the same guy I had asked the direction to Sepia from the day before. Well, he was going my way, so I stuck my backpack on his donkey and headed off.
After a little while we reached the guy´s house and he invitied me in for supper. I was a little reluctant, but didn´t want to be rude, so in I went. The guys house was little more than one room (which had no windows and was full of Guniea pigs and an inch deep in their droppings) and a lean-to.
In the lean-to was his old mother and his young daughter. His mother pulled out a dirty plate and pulled a bucket off the wall, which had a piece of old skirt covering it, and began to dish out dinner.
Now this is the last thing any tourist should do- eat unrefidgetated food, cooked god-knows-when, and drink water drawn from god-knows-where.
But I didn´t want to be rude so I took
the plate of boiled cabbage and strange black fat, with a bit of stringy meat attached. After the first mouth full I wanted to hurl. The cabbage tasted like rotten meat and was all gritty, and the meat was unmentionable. I stuggled to eat half the plate, and had to hand it back half eaten, along with some excuse that I wasn´t really that hungey. She looked really insulted, so I saved the situation by offering to draw the young girl a horse in her school book.
So I drew this lovely horse, all nicely shaded, ect, and it was quite a masterpeice, but as soon as she got her schoolbook back she promptly coloured the horse in, so all that was left was this rainbow, in some horse-like fashion. But the mum said that now I could come back anytime to visit, so I was forgiven.
Anyway, from the dude with the donkey I learnt that a bus would leave from a village about four hours walk up the caynon (actually at the very top of the caynon), so if I walked up there I could bus out.
Four hours walk with a donkey carrying
four stuff is about six hours, at least, carry a pack, considering it is all up hill. And I mean up hill- I would be walking from the very bottom of the caynon, at it´s deepest point, all the way to the top- a vertical distance of 3300 meters in six hours.
Not keen to do that all in one morning, racing to catch a buss, he lent me his donkey, that I could take to the next village, and he would meet me there. So off I went, with the sun setting, up a hill with more switchbacks than anything I had seen before, with this guys donkey. After two hours of walking I reached the village just as the owner of the doneky caught up with me. I gave him his donkey back, and slept the night in that village.
The next morning I was a little late in getting up, and consequently would have to walk to the final village at donkey speed, but with the pack on my back. I walked as fast as I could up hill, my lungs exploding, my legs moving like my feet were bricks, for two hours, without
My camp site
beneath the trees. 2 minutes break. This was one of the hardest walks I have ever had to do.
I arrived at the village at five past eight (the bus was due to leave at eight) but thankfuly the bus was sill there. So I colapsed down to wait for the bus doors to open.
Well, an hour and 3/4 later the bus driver finally turned up. I was spewing. I had slogged my guts out to get there by 8.
I and the three other punters climbed into the bus, and we drove off. After about 15 minutes, the driver stops the bus in the middle of the road, lays his seat back, and takes a sleep. He did this three times in the first hour. I couldn´t believe it.
We finally arrived back in Cotahuasi, after a 4 hour bus trip on one of the worst, but at times most amazing, road I have seen.
In all it was a very interesting hike, and I would reccommend it to anyone who doesn´t mind a bit of a slog. The walk from the bottom of the caynon should take about 7 hours at a nice
pace. For three days I did not see another tourist, and by the reaction of the locals, tourists aren´t all that common there (at least where I was).
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