Conquering the Colca Canyon

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It all started early one Sunday morning as we shivered on the street outside our hostel at around 4.30am. As taxi after taxi honked, waved, and shouted all sorts of unrepeatable things at us we began to wonder why we were up so early. Then a lone pedestrian shuffled his way towards us, hair hanging over his eyes, looking shiftily down at his feet and then from door to door as he walked. ¨What are your names?¨he demanded, "Are you New Zealand?". Well not quite, but that is how began our adventure in the Colca Canyon with Marcos, the sleazy, greasy tour guide.

Several hours later we were winding our way over the high plateau, families of vicuñas feeding in the early dawn as snow capped mountains peeked out of the clouds above us. As we wound down into the canyon quaint little villages began to sprout like mushrooms, as colourfully dressed locals bobbed along the roadside followed by their horses/donkeys/sheep/cows/llamas and the River Colca rushed below.

Our first stop was the Cruz del Condor viewing point from which we would see the mighty Condor. Or lots and lots of cloud. More than a little disappointing.

And so we headed for the village of Cabanaconde and began the walk down. So we walked down. And down. And further down. Pretty much non-stop for around 4-5 hours. Occaisionally we stopped to let a group of heavily laden mules pass, but otherwise it was relentless on the knees. As the clouds cleared we began to get glimpses of the villages on the neighbouring side of the gorge and of the *Oasis* where we would be spending the night.

The highlight was finally seeing a Condor as he flew right above us, only metres away from us. He was majestic and beautiful like no other bird. And then we continued to walk down.

Over the river and after lunch there was a little respite from the downward slog, just long enough for some uphill struggles through greenery and waterfalls. We then walked through various animal filled villages before the hellish descent into the Oasis.

The Oasis was not exactly so. It rained. We had a thatch roof. On our mud hut. With its mud floor. And we could hear the guides discussing us in the room next door. Sleep did not come easily, and for once we were up and at 'em as fast as our weary legs would allow at 5 the next morning for our cup of Coca Leaf tea and the trek back up out of the gorge.

Several hours of puffing and panting uphill later it was time for another round of Scum over breakfast (and this time I was triumphant, muhahaha) before a luxurious soak in the hot pools and back to Arequipa.

In Summary: the gorge is beautiful but steep, take jandals and a torch to the oasis if you´re staying their, and if you´re female watch out for sleazy greasy Marcos!

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Comments

[Libby]

where are the photos?