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Published: December 1st 2007
Arequipa
Chachani (6,075m), as viewed from our bedroomAfter our great time on the Inca trail we headed from Cuzco down to Arequipa in the style that we have quickly become accustomed to - on the luxurious overnight Cruz Del Sur bus. We arrived at 6am or so, and headed to our hostel for some much needed napping. The rest of the day was spent wandering around the travel agencies of Arequipa, trying to get ourselves on a guided tour to climb Chachani (6,075m) the next day. We decided to go for Chachani over El Misti because it was over 6,000m, a real achievement in our books. After our time in Ecuador, Huaraz and the Inca Trail, we were both feeling great, and well acclimatized to at least 4,000m.
Many of the agencies we went into instilled us with nothing but fear with their lack of knowledge of what was included and what wasn't. Finally we found a decent outfit with certificates on the wall, and a premises of their own (which they weren't selling t-shirts and trinkets out of, as is common!). Money was handed over, hands were shook and the deal was done, we would be on the road at 8am the next day. We opted
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El Misti, 5,800m for a private tour, and got ourselves a porter too (not a black traditional stout, but a small strong local...) so that we would have a better chance.
So up we went the next day, in the 4x4 with driver, guide and porter. The views of El Misti volcano (5,800m) were spectacular as we wound our way up to about 5,200m. Out we hopped, and started walking up to our campsite, which was at 5,400m. Both of us felt strong as we trekked up, only taking about 35 mins to reach the rocky campsite. Both of us felt that a bit more walking on the first day might have been better, to help us acclimatize, but it wasn't possible. We relaxed in our tent, reading, and trying not to pant too much! We had a good dinner of soup with noodles, and then spaguetti with sauce. The physiologists in my family will tell you that the stomach doesn't work well at altitude, as it uses up too much vital oxygen (i imagine) that the brain would rather be using. Our appetites were decent, and at 6pm we bedded down for the night. I think i only dosed off for
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Plaza de Armas a few minutes, as i had some really weird dreams but for the rest of the night i lay constantly rolling about in my huge down-filled sleeping bag. Every muscle ached; needed to be stretched, and wouldn't let me rest. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, slow and deep, but whenever my concentration lapsed i found myself gasping...
At 2am i was put out of my misery, and we were greeted by a cup of coca tea from the guide. We ate some styrofoam flavoured (and textured!) cereal bars, got dressed in our warm clothes and headlamps, and off we moseyed into the night, with Angel the guide at the helm. We climbed at what pace can only be described at a geriatric's shuffle, by headlamp. 30 minutes in Kate was regretting her styrofoam breakfast, and had a bout of nausea and vomited. She had a little biscuit and some water to give her energy (and remove the taste from her mouth) and on we went. About 30 mins later, with the twinkling lights of sleepy Arequipa in the distance, she was sick again. No headache or other symptoms of altitude sickness, Angel was happy to go on,
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Nice restaurant with great views
so on we plodded. As the sun rose slowly, we crossed a section called Angel Falls (ominously...but he didn't). This was a steep slope of scree, created by rocks from above falling from erosion. It was like walking on a dune of marbles; each footstep created a mini rockslide. At this stage Kate's fingers and toes were numb from the cold, and yours-chivalrous-truely volunteered his bare torso to warm her little pinkies up. Brrrr!
With warm blood in the fingers, we tramped on, up past a cross planted in the ground, presumably a fallen mountaineer. I spotted a group of French climbers who were camped near us ahead. They were a like a group of lost ants in the distance, circumnavigating the summit of Fatima, a mountain en route to Chachani. I felt we were walking slowly, and the fact that these French were a speck in the distance and they themselves had far to go still did nothing for my confidence. I could feel myself getting tired, feeling the lack of a good nights sleep. Kate's footsteps infront of me lacked dedication and precision. We stopped for a break at 6.45am, and Angel said what i expected was
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Cuy (guinea pig). coming for a while. We had to "make a decision". We were an hour behind due to our stops and slow pace and it would take 4 more to get to the summit of Chachani. I knew neither of us had that much energy in the tank, and the descent was no stroll either. 5,700m was where we decided to leave our mornings work (64% the height of Everest!), and back we went. (As it happens at 5,700m there is 50% of the oxygen floating around at sea level available. This means with every breath, only 10% of what you take in is oxygen, which let me tell you, is rather unrewarding!) As we crossed Angel Falls again, the sun was melting the ice binding the rocks to the slope. Our guide warned us not to stop at all there. I went ahead, and a slight gap opened between myself and Kate & Angel. I pressed on, as 20m infront of me a football sized rock bounced down the 45 degree slope at about 60mph. I was sweating from the sun and too many layers, but it was no place to stop and remove them, I panted onwards. When i
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Cafe run by disadvantaged kids got to a safe place I stopped and waited; 5 mins later Kate appeared over a mound on a leash! Angel had roped her to himself, a precaution against her slipping on the steep section. Another 45 mins or so and we were back at our camp in one piece, and exhausted. We were collected by our driver and taken back to Arequipa, had lunch, and promptly fell asleep for 14 hours (forget dinner...) and woke the next day, ready to take on our tour of The Colca Canyon.
Over breakfast Kate and I were brought down to earth with a thump by a 5 year old boy from Colorado, who had already climbed 76 mountains in his short life. He had been to 5,500m the day before and in his own words "I´ve been higher than mummy!" We had an interesting discussion over breakfast about how he was going to climb Everest, that he had seen Pilot whales at Easter Island (he informed us that they were infact the largest species of dolphin, whale was a misnomer) and that it was illegal to drink tea and coffee in his church (Mormon). To see such a bright boy brainwashed
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Plaza de Armas by religion at that age really disappointed and annoyed me, but I contained myself. His dad paced around restlessly, and told us of all the peaks in South America he had climbed himself (many!), and showed us a cool gadget to keep an eye on his boy - a blood oxygen monitor that you pop over your finger which tells you how well acclimatized you are. It gives you the percentage of red blood cells that are carrying oxygen, which we could have done with that the day before at 5,700m!
On we hopped to our tourbus, which we were delighted required no effort on any part of the tour. We headed up toward the Colca Canyon seeing lots of Llamas, Alpacas and Vicunas (a type of deer...maybe soon to be introduced to Ballyconnell?) and arrived in the town of Chivay for lunch. We booked into our frigid hotel room (which had 3 beds, incase we made friends!), and then explored the town. The highlight was getting hot water bottles on our way to bed from the receptionist!
The next day we headed to Cruz Del Condor via some small towns, where local women were dancing for tourists
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Plaza de Armas with El Misti in background at 6.30am! They earned their small change! We plodded on to Cruz Del Condor, and sat waiting for the impressive beasts. With a wingspan of 3m, and weighing in at 12kg these birds were stunning to watch, as they glided by us majestically. The Colca Canyon is the second biggest in the world (pipped by one in the next valley by 150m) and twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. It was spectacular to look down at the river over a kilometre below. Back on the bus we jumped and high-tailed to to Arequipa.
The next day was easily the most cultural in the two months we´ve been away. We popped into the gigantic and impressive Cathedral built of white volcanic stone beside Arequipa's main square, where a quick prayer was had by one of us, and a chin-scratching appreciation of the engineering by the other. We headed on to the Convent of Santa Catalina, which is a small city in itself. Built a few hundred years ago, it housed wealthy sisters of Spanish descent. These ladies brought with them the luxuries of home they couldn´t live without, such as slaves and lavish furnishings. They used to party the
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On the way to base camp of Chachani nights away into the wee hours with craic agus ceol, until some Sister Killjoy came along and put a stop to the unholyness. It was amazing to walk around each nun´s apartment, complete with dressing rooms and kitchens, by candlelight. The convent still houses a handfull of nuns to this day, but I imagine they do not live in the same comfort as their predecessors!
Then it was back onto the bus, and a break for the Bolivian border...
(For the nerds: Further reading on Chachani: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chachani
Further reading on Arequipa: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arequipa)
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Tom P
non-member comment
fantastic
as usual, quality inspiring writing M+K, i'm insanely jealous. today i went for a jog to work off a slight hangover, tomorrow i'm teaching kids kayaking, then off to Skye for 5* sea kayak training. hope all's well. when you back from your epic adventure?