What Did You Learn in the Cub Scouts?

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Always Be Prepared

After finally getting off the bus at Cabanaconde, we went up the hill to the Pachamama hostel. Recommended strongly by Kyle and Tahlei, it is also the Lonely Planet’s “pick” of the hostels in Canyon country (with their typical style they signed off on the place with the line “this is travel” - seriously, who writes these articles and do they go through a heavy screening process to ensure that only the biggest dorks are allowed?)
The bus was an all too fresh memory and the need for a feed and a beer were critical. We walked in to the hostel bar to find it pretty busy and so we were told to grab a seat and we’d be seen to soon enough. A minute or so later a European girl walked in with a group of six or so other travellers who she proceeded to sort out with rooms. She eventually saw to us and told us that all the doubles were full but that there was a single she could put us in and move a mattress on to the floor. Having been duped out of a room by a group that had arrived after we had, I was a bit shitty but in a state of no longer caring, as long as I got a bed.
This girl showed us to the room and told us that it would usually be s/20 for a single person but she would give it to us, along with breakfast in the morning, for s/25. We said we’d take it and asked for directions to the nearest ATM. She shook her head and told us that there were no ATMs in town, the nearest one being back in Chivay. What’s more, we soon discovered there weren’t even any EFTPOS facilities for credit cards. We had a grand total of s/12 and US$12, 10 of which would not be accepted as tender in Peru due to a small tear in the note. We were fucked.
I walked back down to the bus stop and found out that there was a 9:00PM bus back to Chivay. We would have to get that, costing s/4 each, stay the night in Chivay, use the ATM there and try to get back to Cabanaconde on the earliest possible bus the next day. We went in to the Pachamama bar and found the European girl, who introduced herself as Liv.
(A second aside for the LP - they made sure to mention that you should take plenty of cash to Chivay, the place that actually had an ATM, but there was no mention of their complete absence in Cabanaconde.)
We explained the situation and told her that we’d like to make a reservation for the next night. Her face fell - I thought at the loss of money, but it was out of pity for us.
“This happens pretty often,” she said. “We can work something out where we can lend you the money for the stay.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“The only thing is that you have to promise to pay us back. We’ve had people stay for 5 and 6 nights, drinking every night in the bar and not pay us back.”
We swore that we would not be those kind of people, I even offered my credit card in assurance (they didn’t take it). In the end, they spotted us our night (and breakfast) in the hostel, dinner of alpaca steaks and a beer each. Then, the next day, they gave us another s/80 so that we could eat, drink and get the bus back to Arequipa.
We were up to have breakfast at 9:30 the next day. We figured we had the day perfectly planned. With buses back to Arequipa at 2 and 9PM, we knew if we were going to get to the oasis at the bottom of the canyon, we could only make the night bus. So by leaving at 10 we could be there by 1 at the latest, giving us two hours to relax before leaving at 3 for the 4 - 5 hour hike back up the canyon. We’d be back by 7 and, although it meant we would do the last two or so hours in the dark, that gave us time to eat before getting the bus back to Arequipa.
The Boss had, since Chile, only owned one pair of footwear - a pair of thongs - so we enquired about hiring some boots, only to be told that they didn’t do boot hire. Indeed, nowhere in the whole town did. Cabanaconde was truly a brilliant town for tourists wanting to explore the Colca Canyon - no ATM, no card facilities and nowhere to hire boots.
The Boss was determined to press forward wearing only her thongs. Liv told her it was “impossible.” though two years working in a backpackers had taught me that people who spoke English as a second language (and Americans for some reason) didn’t really grasp the finality of the words “impossible” or “perfect”. We bought ourselves a couple of tickets for the 9PM bus to Arequipa and headed off to the canyon.
Half an hour down the canyon and we came to understand that whilst Liv’s understanding of the word “impossible” may not have been in line with the mathematical definition of it, she wasn’t too far off. The path was dirt and rocks the size of your fist. We worked out that whilst going down may have been on the cards, coming back up in the dark was not. The reality of the situation was upsetting but we came to terms with it, took a few photos and turned back.
Getting to town at midday, I went through in my head how to beg in Spanish to change our bus ticket to the 2PM one. “Ella no tiene zapatos, no caminamos el canyon. Por favour! Por favour!” (Anyone who can speak Spanish, please feel free to correct me in the comments section, it’s how I learn.)
Turns out my pleading wasn’t necessary. The guy at the bus station was too happy to change our tickets. We spent the next hour and a half wandering the town, admiring the donkeys, cattle and even saw a hummingbird which I wasn’t quick enough to get on camera.
The bus back was relatively subdued. With no one in the aisles until the final two hours of the trip (two people got on board in the middle of nowhere and stood next to me, I was impressed with their ability to smell of fish whilst in the middle of the country) the only real highlights were briefly catching sight of a couple of condors, which nest in the canyon, and a small child whining for a couple of hours giving me flashbacks of the scene in the M*A*S*H* finale where the woman on the bus has to keep her chicken quiet for fear of being killed by the North Korean army.
We checked back in to La Reyna, had dinner at “Mamut” again (the boss went to get a coffee and gave me strict instructions - “get EXACTLY what you ordered last time”) and I, after ordering, went to get beer from the supermarket. Walking back to the hostel up Calle San Francisco, the bars along the strip were actually pretty busy. So we ate our sandwiches, polished off a couple of beers and wandered back down the strip for a few drinks on the town.
To tell the story of what a couple who have been together 18 months do when drinking would be a tear jerker (as in you would be bored to tears). In summary, we sat and consumed a copious amount of vodka. One bar was doing 3 for s/10, which we had a couple of rounds at before hitting the bar next door which did 4 for s/10. The only other part of the night that bears mentioning is the female toilets. I’ll let the boss take up the story:
“When I went in, the floor was flooded - it could have been water. They didn’t have a toilet seat, just the toilet. There was wee on it and loads of pubes.
“The second time, there was a girl in front of me who was in the process of rolling up her jeans because the floor was completely flooded with piss. There was a drain in the floor that, clearly, the girls had been bending over rather than using the toilet because the toilet was almost full to the brim with diarrhoea. Finally there were three fully-formed logs on the back of the toilet where someone had blatantly misjudged the bowl.
“I still used it though.”
(She would like me to point out that she had been drinking and had broken the seal. That’s my girl!)

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Photos

The Boss
At our lowest point (in the canyon).

Me
At the lowest point

The Boss
Illustrating why we could go no further.

A condor
No, it's not just a speck on the lense

Comments

[Tahlei]

so neither of us made it to the oasis :(
We have learnt as well to always have cash! How did you pay them back at pachamama? I hope the next few blogs are happier ones. Where are you off to next?