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Published: December 26th 2008
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Peru is less expensive than Chile but the buses are just as comfortable and, unlike in Chile, they come with a steward or stewardess who serves snacks and drinks. With low-cost airlines challenging them for business, they've had to augment their service. They even have announcements over the internal public address system telling you this is a no-smoking flight...er, trip...and to keep your chairback in an upright position. At first I thought it was for takeoff, but I realized they meant you should do so while eating.
I arrived at Arica at 22h00 and took a taxi to where Isabel Villanueva lives with her mother, Yolanda, her daughter, Maria-Angelica and her grandson, Ignacio. Isabel is the sister of my friend Juan in Geneva.
I spent three days here, being fussed over and spoiled by Yolanda and Isabel and Juan's other sister, Cecilia, who lives in another part of the city with her husband and two children. They treated me with immense hospitality, showing me the city, taking me to eat local specialties and helping to arrange a trip to Colca Canyon and my next destination - Cuzco.
Arica's backdrop is three volcanoes and usually their peaks are covered
Mother and daughters
Left to right: Isabel, Yolanda and Cecilia. Maria-Angelica was off playing with Ignacio when I took this photo. in snow but for the past two years this hasn't been the case and locals attribute it to global warming. It's a city of about 1.5 or 2 million that suffers from fairly severe traffic congestion and whose endless crowds coming and going downtown give the town a very lively feel. The main square is Plaza des Armas, with a wide church fronting it. Palm trees, warm sunshine and Christmas songs in Spanish...it felt exotic and slightly surreal as I'm used to pine trees and cold weather when I hear that music.
Cecilia took me to see a convent that is part-museum and partly operational, then to see the mummy of Juanita, an Incan girl sacrificed to appease apparently angry mountain gods. She'd been preserved high on one of the volcanoes, buried in ice and snow for 500 years before an earthquake knocked her loose. She was discovered by an archaeologist a few weeks after being paroled from her ice prison and he brought her down for study. She now sits in a triple-lined plexiglass case at minus 20 degrees C and 98% humidity in an small museum with excellent displays and explanations.
After a couple of days
Guineau pig meal
Looks a little horrifying; tastes a lot like rabbit. of serious pampering and endless help with whatever I needed, Cecilia had arranged for me to visit the Colca Canyon, one of the world's deepest at 3 191 metres. It's a place where you can enjoy seeing condors gliding on thermals. So I caught a morning tour bus up to Chivay, a few hours away. We drove up through bouldery land, rising steadily until we came to a plateau with llamas, alpacas and vicunas. We crossed the plateau on a bone-shaker of a road and came to rough mountains, wild and tawny as lions from short tufts of yellow grass that's used to thatch roofs. Finally, as the sky clouded over we came to the village of Chivay. Mostly single-storey buildings and rough stone walls, but tourism brings money so some of the hotels were two- or three-storey. A few craft shops around a central square fronted by a big stone church.
The next day we rose early and set off in the tour bus. The weather was very misty. We drove into the canyon, stopping occasionally at points of interest for photos. None of mine turned out well due to the mist. Finally we reached out destination...a viewing
The friendliest traffic cop in the world
This man is a local celebrity. A former policeman, he's now retired and exuberantly helps pedestrians to cross at one of Arequipa's busiest street crossings. point to see condors. But the sky was overcast and the canyon full of white mist and no condors flew. The viewing point was paved over with a big cross standing above the canyon and about a dozen women in bright, traditional dress had colourful clothing spread out on a blue tarpaulin. They'd point to their goods and say Ponchos... guantes... chullos... sueters. They were nice, not pushy, encouraging you with a playful, friendly manner. Like most of these things, they look good in the environment, but get them home and they're out of place. You leave them on a shelf in your closet.
We sat here for more than an hour seeing only one condor soaring high above us - just a large speck in the sky - before getting back on the bus as the mists from below swirled up to consume us. We returned to Chivay, then Arequipa late in the day.
The next day was 21 December and I was included in Yolanda's older brother's birthday party. He'd turned 84, was strong and fit and alert with bright eyes and a quick smile beneath his white mustache. We went to a nearby restaurant to
join about a dozen family members, all of whom made me feel very welcome. We ate causa, a Peruvian specialty of mashed potatoes top and bottom with a filling, either chicken or tuna mixed with mayonnaise. Second course was lamb soup: a cutlet with rice, two types of potato (Peru has 100 kinds) carrots and garbanzo beans.
We returned to the apartment for birthday cake and the party reminded me of similar gatherings of my own family. I felt happy and at ease with them. This family had done so much to make me feel welcome it seemed like I was having Christmas with them.
By early evening the party was done, the guests were gone and it was time for me to go, too. With Isabel at the wheel, muttering and honking the horn at the heavy traffic, and Yolanda, Maria-Angelica and Ignacio giggling in the back, we rushed through town to the bus station so I could catch the night bus to Cuzco. They gave me a goodbye equivalent in warmth to their welcome and then I was on the bus and pulling out of Arequipa into the Peruvian night.
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