Peru - Cuzco and The Salkantay Trek To Machu Picchu

Sunday 11th December – The Cuzco Parade

Today I had one mission – to pull myself out of the downtrodden mood I was in.  This happened thanks to Cuzco, but initially by the girl-half of the over amorous couple from last night.  I woke at 10 a.m., sat up in my bed and looked across the room to see the girl waking at exactly the same time with the boy-half missing from her bed.  She looked at the empty space in the bed, glanced around the room with a perplexed look on her face and realised very quickly it actually wasn’t her bed.  After a few curses she sheepishly jumped from the bed and quickly made her way out with a chirpy ‘Adios’  Where the boy-half was is a mystery – mostly for her I would imagine.

My stomach feeling slightly better and crying out for food, I had breakfast,  Something I would regret not too long after.  I then made my way out to explore Cuzco.  I’m not sure what the occasion was, or if it is a weekly event, but there were parades all over the city.  The perfect tonic for my present condition.  Every square had various troupes of indigenous people marching and playing music, wearing their traditional outfits and singing.  Cuzco itself is a beautiful city with lots of plazas and old colonial buildings, surrounded by undulating mountains.  It is very touristy being the gateway to Machu Picchu and as a result expensive compared to the rest of Peru, but definitely a place I’ll enjoy staying in for a few days. 

Exploring finished, I headed back to the hostel, attempted some tomato soup and spend the evening chatting to Will and Sophie and getting tips for the next leg of my journey once I leave Cuzco.

Then the day finished on a definite high when I found out Elisha would be arriving in Cuzco tomorrow.

Monday 12th December – Bad Dancing

Things are on the up and I’m feeling much better, but not going to risk booking my trek to Machu Picchu just yet.  Another day to recover is needed.  While I was hanging around in the hostel bar I could hear music coming from the street.  After going to the balcony to check out what was happening a small parade started to round the corner and come down the street.  It was so beautiful.  The music was traditional and indescribable but captivating.  Being on a first floor balcony I had the perfect view as it passed underneath.  As they marched along the girls would twirl around, their golden flowing dresses spinning with them.  I was so annoyed with myself for not having my camera to hand to record it.  The Cuzco parades seem to be an everyday event and Cuzco seems to be a place where you should never be beyond of reaching distance of your camera. 

Then it was time to go meet Elisha.  Fantastic to see her again.  We sat in the hostel along with a couple of her dormers, Herlan and Gerry, before heading to Los Perros for a bite to eat, an Australian owned café/bar.  I got the biggest burger I have ever seen.  Normally things like this don’t cause me any trouble, it’s devoured with ease.  Not this.  I struggled but there was no way it was going to beat me.  If ever in Cuzco, checking these out is a must.  After this we headed in the direction of what the locals call Gringo Alley and stumbled in a place with a live band playing their local traditional music.  Not exactly my type of music, but it was a lot of fun and before long we were all up dancing, me attempting and failing to copy what the locals do.  Once the band finished it was time for the disco – and a weird disco it was.  In some way geared for the gringos in the crowd we were treated to Come On Eileen and other similar tracks, before heading into the dangerous territory of the chart music – Mark Anthony, Black Eyed Peas and countless other woeful bands I’m glad I do not know the name of.  The night ended by handing the dance floor over the locals again.  South Americans can dance.  We only think we can.

Tuesday 13th December – The Drug Lords

Feeling like I’m pretty much back to normal today I finally booked by trek to Machu Picchu.  I’m not doing the official Inca Trail.  That needs to be booked months in advance and costs twice the price, so I have booked myself on the Salkantay Trek which leaves at 5 a.m. tomorrow morning.  It’s going to be great to get back out into the wilderness again and climb a few mountains for the next five days.

After getting everything sorted I went to meet Elisha and Herlan for lunch at Jack’s Café.  Once done I headed back to the hostel and things started to go downhill again.  I spent the afternoon talking to Leanne, and Irish girl in my dorm who has what we decided is a phantom pain in her foot meaning she cannot do her trail to Machu Picchu which she wasn’t 100% sure she wanted to do.  Having told her about my recent ills she informed me she had just completed her pharmacy degree and very kindly went with me to the chemist to get the right drugs to sort out my stomach.  This was much needed as things really started to get worse than ever.  I even tried to cancel my trek but it was too late, I had to go or I’d lose the money. 

After calling over to Elisha’s hostel and meeting Brian who arrived in Cuzco today with his mates Avi and Sean, I went back to prepare for my trek and met Leanne’s mates, Sinead and Catharine, also recently graduated pharmacist.  All three were fantastic and offered me whatever medicines I needed to go on my trek – I think half their suitcases were filled with various drugs! They gave me a single use antibiotic that they assured me it would leave me feeling perfect tomorrow.  I hope it does, because as things stand, it’s going to be an interesting trek of constantly having to know where the nearest toilet is – and that may turn out to be the nearest bush.  Fingers crossed this pill works.

Wednesday 14th December – Salkantay Trek – Day 1

I’m not sure what was in that magic little pill that the girls gave me last night, but it worked.  I got up at 4.a.m this morning to get ready for my 4.30 a.m. pick up to go on the Salkantay Trek and I felt back to normal.  Seems like I’m going to be fitting fit to enjoy the trek properly.

At 5 a.m. the guide for the trek finally arrived.  That’s half an hour more I could have been in bed.  But at least he arrived.  Last night a person from the tour company came round and gave me a briefing on the trek.  He said the guide would collect me and walk me to the main plaza to meet the rest of my tour group and from there board a bus to get to the start of the trek.  On leaving the hostel, the guide directed me to a taxi.  I questioned this but he said we were going to meet the rest of the group.  Obviously a change of plan.  I’m being very generous when I saw taxi, as I’m sure this conjures up images of a car.  This is a car, but only in the loosest sense of the word.  It’s about the size of a Matchbox car and I’m sure every single component dreams of being in a scrapyard rather than suffer the indignity of making this contraption move.  We take off and start driving through cobbled back streets at a speed which I am sure is more than enough to make the whole thing disintegrate at any moment.  But we eventually reached our destination.  After getting out of the taxi the guide directed me to the bus.  We were nowhere near the plaza I was told about last night.  I stepped into the packed bus and the first thing I noticed was the lack of gringos.  It’s full of locals.  Several thoughts went through my head such as, ‘Do locals do this trek?  Is that woman in her sixties, of rather large build and wearing traditional indigenous clothes, really ready to tackle a five day trek?’.  I was seriously confused.  Could this really be my tour group?  Having no other opinion I sat in the seat behind the driver and attempted to covertly check out the other members of my alleged group.  We eventually started to make our way out of Cuzco and I decided it was time to catch up on some sleep.  But as I was about to drift off I was brought back to life by the crying of a baby from the back of the bus.  Right, that’s it, this is not my tour group.  Where are they?  Where am I going?  Again having no other option I stick with my guide’s instructions.  After a some time people begin to get off the bus at various stops until eventually the only people left are me, my guide and what appears to be a rather large bag of bread rolls.  On reaching the end of the line in a small town, I was told, ‘Ok, we are here’.  Exactly where ‘here’ was is anyone’s guess, so I got out looking around for any sign of a tour group.  No joy.  At this stage I was expecting the guide to point at the mountain in the background and say ‘Go, just walk in that direction for five days.  You can’t miss it.  Big old city on top of a mountain.  Oh, and don’t forget your bread rolls’.  Until a wave of relief went over me as another bus pulled up and out popped 12 gringos all ready for their trek.

After a quick breakfast (in a café that didn’t seem to possess any items listed on their menu), brief introductions and handing our backpacks over for the donkeys to carry, we were given a briefing of the trek for the day.  Ready to go, we all set off at 9 a.m.  We started out from Mollepata at an altitude of 2900m and gradually made out way to Sayllapata where we stopped for lunch beside a field of aggressively fighting cows.  The trek was through amazing landscapes of towering mountains with large waterfalls cascading down their sides.  After lunch it was not long before we came across some of the waterfalls blocking our progress along the route.  It was the rainy season so it was only to be expected that parts of the roads would be flooded.  But by finding a few large rocks, we all pitched in and made stepping stones to get us on our way.  At 5 p.m. we arrived at our camp for the night in Soraypampa at a lofty height of 3900m.  This is the highest altitude I would try to sleep at.  It was freezing, with the night time temperature expected to drop to -5^oC.  The campsite location was beautiful with mountains all around.  As night fell after dinner and with no light pollution for miles around, the sky was crystal clear with amazing views of the stars and The Milky Way.  Exhausted and with an early wakeup call we all crashed at 9 p.m.

Thursday 15th December – Salkantay Trek – Day 2

Up at 5 a.m., breakfast and off on the next and hardest leg of our trek at 6 a.m.  With the Salkantay mountain towering over us at a height of 6264m, we began our ascent to the highest point on the whole of trek, 4650m.  As we got higher, the weather worsened.  The rain and the wind battered against us, and eventually we are getting covered in snow.  But none of that mattered to me.  Just one look around at where we were was enough to make the elements being thrown as us enjoyable.  It’s all part of the adventure.  It’s was not long before we were approaching the high point with a path that contains lots of switchbacks.

Sometimes we do things that surprise ourselves and that happened to me as we approached the top.  Two of the group were ahead, but soon I caught up with them, standing still and not sure what to do.  I asked, ‘What’s up?’.  They said, ‘There’s a bull!  What do we do?’.  A few weeks back I would have probably been back in Cuzco within three seconds of hearing the word bull, but not now.  I simply replied, ‘Ah, just walk passed it, it’s fine’.  Unsure of my advice, they asked, ‘Can you go first?’.  Unfazed by it all, I marched forward and navigated my way around the bull.  I even said ‘Hello’ and gave it a jolly wave (better safe than sorry - when their day comes they might remember I was friendly to one of their kind).

Shortly after we reached the summit.  It was tough going at the altitude with shortness of breath, snow pelting down and the wind blowing.  Once we had stopped for a few group photos to celebrate our achievement, myself and Mark (from Germany) decided to take the easiest method down the other side – running and boulder hopping.  I love doing that.  A lot of fun and you let gravity do most of the work.  Except gravity overdid it a bit and decided to break the strap on my bag.  Not very convenient while on a trek in the mountains for five days.

All drenched, we reached our lunch stop at Huayracpampa and ate in the smallest possible room that could hold 13 people.  After lunch the rest of our trek was all downhill and as we descended the weather got better and better.  We reached our next campsite, Chaullay, at 2900m.  The first activity was a game of football.  I lasted playing outfield for 10 minutes before taking over as goalie.  But even that was exhausting.  The locals were running around as if we were at sea level.  I just quit and went to lie down.  At which point a pig ram-raided the campsite, headed straight for someone’s rucksack and it wasn’t long before it was running off with someone’s lunch bag.  After dinner and admiring another crystal clear sky and fire flies lighting up the mountain side, it was bed by 9 p.m.

Friday 16th December – Salkantay Trek – Day 3

Up at 6 a.m. my first mission was to have a shower after not getting one yesterday.  There were two facts I knew before taking this shower: that it is cold, and that it is in the same small brick building as a hole-in-the ground squat toilet.  They were separated by about one metre.  It was the first time I have ever had a shower and came out feeling dirtier than when I went in.

Our trek today started through the fringes of a rainforest which we reached by crossing a bridge which if a troll lives under should be wearing protective head gear as it’s sure to collapse sometime in the near future.  We all made it across in one piece.  As we waked through the rainforest the guides pointed out the different flora and fauna, included a small tarantula.  Then we came across an obstacle.  Not a flooded road, but a landslide.  The road was no longer there.  The guides headed across first as we all then had to make our way across some very loose rocks.  Our in my case run.  It’s just much easier that way.  If the rocks fall below your feet, you’ll already be long gone.  The guide didn’t appreciate this tactic at all!  After a few hours the path lead us out of the rainforest at which point I was surprised and slightly pleased to see a bus waiting for us.  This took us to our lunch stop (the toilets there were shear luxury, by which I mean they actually had a flush toilet), and then onwards to our camp for the night, just outside a little town called Santa Teresa.

We then all headed for a much needed dip in the local baths.  Paradise in the middle of the mountains.  Three heated pools nestled in a valley with mountains all around.  At one end they had created showers by funneling water from a waterfall.  This water was freezing so after a few minutes of suffering under it, the baths felt even more therapeutic when plunged into.

Later in the evening we all sat around a camp fire with a few drinks, music, some very unusual disco lights and telling riddles late into the night with Trina and Mark.

Saturday 17th December – Salkantay Trek – Day 4

Happy Birthday Mark and Tom!!

Last night we were offered two choices for the first part of today: get up at 6 a.m. and walk to Hidroelectrica or get up at 8 a.m. and get the bus.  Knowing I was going to be up later than I had been over for the past few nights I chose to get the bus.  Once we started the bus journey I realised this was a big mistake.  The road was along a mountain route with shear drops to the side.  At the bottom of these shear drops was a raging torrent which would have swept everything away (in 1988 it actually swept a whole town away).  These roads are something I have grown used to during my travels.  The issue here was the driver.  Instead of concentrating on the road he was more interested in having a conversation with the passengers in the front sitting beside him.  At one point I was freaking out when I was sure one wheel actually teetered on the edge of the cliff before righting itself.  I wasn’t the only one who thought this.  The driver was completely unfazed.  I wished I had walked.

Eventually we made it to Hidroelectrica – a massive manmade hole in the side of a cliff with water flowing out.  This is used to generate electricity for the local towns.  It’s a strange and impressive sight.  We then made our way to the railway tracks at which point it was time to walk to Aguas Calientes, our stop for the night.  After getting through security we approached the train tracks.  The first sign I noticed was a very clear one indicating that you should not walk along the train tracks.  Safety warnings and precautions ignored, we started our walk along the tracks.  I couldn’t help but sing, ‘Lollipop Lollipop, oh Lolli-Lolli-Lolli Lollipop. POP! Ba dum dum dum’.

After about 2 hours and dodging a few trains which we were assured would not be there, we reached Aguas Calientes.  After checking into the hostel the first thing I did was have a warm shower.  It’s amazing how good that feels after days without one.  Aguas Calientes itself is nothing more than a tourist town.  Every establishment is either a gift shop, a hostel/hotel or a bar/café.  

While wandering around the town I bumped into Brian, Avi and Sean.  They had been to Machu Picchu today and said it was amazing.  Tomorrow we make our way up there and finally reach what we have been trekking to for four days.  I can’t wait.

Sunday 18th December – Salkantay Trek – Day 5 – Machu Picchu

I woke up this morning laughing after remembering an incident that happened in the middle of the night.  Myself and Mark were sharing a twin room (the owner almost gave us a matrimonial room but we quickly put him straight).  I woke in the middle of the night having no clue where I was but quickly got my bearings.  But not less than 30 seconds later Mark woke up and shouted, ‘Hey you, you, can you speak English man?  Where are we?’ while groping the walls.  He thought he was in a cave.  This startled me as I forgot there was someone else in the room.  I let him know where he was and that he wasn’t in the cave that he thought he was.  To which he replied, ‘Yeah, I know, I know where we are’.  I laughed myself back to sleep.

Aguas Calientes is a strange place at 4 a.m.  Apart from the official Inca Trail, all the tours start their final trek from the town and make their way to Machu Picchu.  As I walked out of our hostel it was still dark.  From all the buildings trekkers were appearing, bleary eyed, with torches in hand and preparing for the final ascent.  We made our way out of town and after crossing a bridge reached the beginning of the steps leading to the entrance of Machu Picchu.  I’m not sure how many steps there were, but I’d guess over 1000.  It was a tough and sweltering climb and after 45 minutes we finally reached our goal, Machu Picchu.  It was now 5.30 a.m. and we had a half hour wait for the entrance to open.

Now with our guide having joined us the gates opened at 6 a.m. (she got a bus up - only yesterday did we find out that she had been doing the whole trek with a broken toe!). Being one of the first in we had the best possible view of the ancient city – with no tourists.  The sight was impressive.  A lost city in the middle of the mountains.  The first questions that come to mind are, ‘How did they do it?  How did they build it?’  It looked spectacular.  Very difficult to explain.  Our guide gave us a tour for the first hour, explaining all the different parts of the city and how the Incas lived – explaining their customs, hierarchy and how it was built.  During the guided tour we nearly lost one of our group.  As the guide explained about how they found mummies near the area of the Sun Temple, I heard a yelp from behind me.  Turning around I saw Lorraine disappearing down a hole, but thankfully stopped as Mark grabbed her arm.  She would have been joining those mummies if she feel through the hole, it wasn’t a small drop.

Once the tour was over we were left to wander the city by ourselves.  This was exhausting.  There were so many steps due to it being built in the mountains, and at 2400m, the altitude didn’t help.  There are two mountains overlooking the Machu Picchu site, Machupicchu and Huaynapicchu.  To get a view of the whole city, and see the condor shape it is supposed to be built to, we climbed Huaynapicchu.  A 45 minutes trek up yet more steps.  Unfortunately when we got to the top the cloud had closed in and view was obscured.  And yes, I mean cloud.  One cloud was perfectly placed to block the view.  But a little patience helped and eventually it cleared a bit and we were able to see the whole city.  The trek back down again was perilous.  Steps that were too thin to put a foot on.  Going down backwards was the only way before rejoining the path we took up.

Once we were back in the city, we almost immediately made our way to the Sun Gate.  I had been told this had an even better view of the whole city.  It was another 45 minute trek but I knew even before I reached it that I would see nothing.  There were too many clouds.  After waiting around for 30 minutes (and wondering why someone would feel it necessary to play music out loud on their phone, ruining the whole atmosphere for everyone else) it was time to head back again.  Thankfully about five minutes after starting to walk down the path, the clouds parted and view was perfect.  Worth the trek.

Exhausted and barely able to stand up I headed back to Aguas Calientes at 2 p.m..  The trek back down again was almost as tough as up.  I forgot how many steps we had to tackle. When back in Aguas Calientes we loaded up on much needed (but vile tasting) pizza and while wandering around later bumped into Will and Sophie and my three Irish pharmacist saviours (this place is a Mecca for travellers) before we all caught the train and bus back to Cuzco.

Shattered after a fantastic five days and reinvigorated for my travels, I crashed for a desperately needed long sleep in Pariwana hostel with plans to meet up with a few people from the trek for dinner tomorrow night.

Peru - Finally - Huanchaco to Huaraz to Cuzco

Sunday 4th December – What’s a Power Ballad you say.  Well let me introduce you…

After a painless nine hour overnight bus journey, only interrupted briefly in the middle of the night to do the Ecuador-Peru border crossing, we arrived in Piura in northern Peru at 8 a.m.  Then it was a quick walk up the road to get a Movil bus at 9 a.m. to Trujillo.  This is the first luxury bus I have got in South America.  I have been told about them but finally after suffering the buses in Ecuador it’s great to have a bus that serves food – airplane style – and has seats that almost turn into beds.

The journey takes seven hours before reaching Trujillo.  The Peru landscape is a stark difference from Ecuador.  Ecuador was mountains and windy roads.  But here in north Peru it’s a flat almost desert like terrain.  And a welcome relief.  At least now I’m not panicking about whether the bus driver is a lunatic and going to take us on a rapid descend of a cliff face by missing a bend in the road.

From Trujillo we headed straight for the beach town of Huanchaco.  Sunshine and sand – the perfect therapy after over 15 hours of travelling.  The hostel we wanted to check into was full, but they offered us a room across the road.  Not exactly a hostel to say the least.  It’s was a room above a shop that someone has squeezed a few bunk beds into with a kitchen area above.  It’s very cheap, it’ll do.  And do it did later in the night.  After heading for a bite to eat, and having a few drinks, it’s was time to introduce the guys to a Power Ballads night.  Rinath didn’t know what Power Ballads were.  After explaining, I had to let her know how much fun they were.  We all headed back to the so-called hostel and very quickly the kitchen area became the party area.  With laptop and speakers ready, it wasn’t long before everyone was clenching their fist and screaming along to I Want To Know What Love Is and many more classics.  What a fantastic night – we probably kept the whole town awake until 4 a.m.

Monday 5th December – Going Nowhere

The plan today was quite simple.  Relax by the beach, eat, get bus to Huaraz.  The only part that was in any way a success was the relaxing on the beach.  The beach was odd, I think an artificial one.  At least the sand part.  Dig down a little bit into the sand and all you could find were rocks.  While playing frizbee this became a serious obstacle.  Diving wasn’t an option unless you also wanted severe pain to be an option.

Once the fun was finished on the beach, we went to get some food before and overnight journey to Huaraz for me, Brian and Edwin.  Helen and Rinath were planning more beach time.  Peru is most certainly a place where you should never leave anything to the last minute, or for the last hour, maybe even last half-day.  Both last night, earlier today and now, the food was not in any way fast.  It took an average of one hour for anything to arrive.  But finally we headed for the bus, much later than expected.  After we got to the station and asked for tickets, the people behind the desk basically laughed at us.  Apparently you have to book the tickets a day in advance.  Desperately wanting to head south we went to another bus company to be told the same story.  No trip to Huaraz tonight.  It’s going to be another day by the beach, which although it sounds good, not being much of a beach person and really wanting to get to Huaraz – it’s a nightmare.

Tuesday 6th December – Second Time Lucky

Being an unexpected day in Huanchaco, I spent the day just chilling out and catching up on my blog and photos.  Still so far behind.  At 9 p.m. we all headed for the bus – Helen and Rinath now joining us on our way to Huaraz.  But at the last minute Edwin decided to head to Lima instead.  So after building up to seven our troupe is now down to four.

Today was a strange day.  Not really in the best of form.  Not sure why.  Anxious about time.  But looking forward to Huaraz.  Len and Antti who I met in Bogota have recommended it to do some rock climbing and it’s time to finally challenge myself once again!

Wednesday 7th December – The Way Inn – and all its oddities

Happy Birthday Ciara!!

Although these buses are luxury compared to anything I’ve ever been on, overnight journeys just leave me wrecked.  We got into Huaraz at 8 a.m. after an 11 hour journey and jumped straight in a taxi to go to The Way Inn.  This hostel has been recommended by a few people and is outside the city of Huaraz in the mountains.  But in the taxi it soon becomes clear that The Way Inn is way out.  It takes about 40 slow minutes along dirt tracks before we finally reach it – perched at an altitude of 3712m.  As ever, the agreed price with the taxi driver before we set off suddenly increases when we get out.  These tactics are getting so frustrating.  It’s happened too often.  But fair play to Brian.  He told the driver we either pay the agreed price or he gets nothing and soon the driver backed down.  With all of us feeling shattered, we check-in, have breakfast and then crash in our dorm – known as The Cave.  That’s exactly what it is.  A few walls built around some huge boulders.  This place reminds me of The Secret Garden Cotopaxi with its location, amazing landscapes and lack of electricity.  And to top it all off Chris who volunteered in Cotopaxi is now volunteering here.  It’s great to see him again.

After our sleep we get up at noon and have some lunch.  This is where the weirdness begins.  The guys working in the hostel all seem pretty dedicated to it and have a mission to make it a self-sustaining business with hydropower electricity and vegetable gardens to provide food to the lodgers.  When we ask one of the guys (I forget his name) the main mission, his explanation starts out perfectly normal.  They want to use their technologies to help the local people with access to water and electricity.  But soon this goes way off track.  He begins to talk about the damage we are doing to the planet and other species, especially marine life.  All good, I agree.  But then I get totally lost when he throws in the line ‘…and the solar cycles’.  I was about to interrupt and ask him what he meant (we have no control over the solar cycles – it’s the Sun doing its thing!).  The guy has now been talking for 20 minutes and I start to zone out when he starts giving very biased and fact lacking details about the Japanese Tsunami and the damage to the nuclear reactors.  How he’s actually got onto this topic is a mystery to me.  It all started out with us asking about the hostel.  Then comes the clincher.  With my mind wandering, I just come back in time to hear the sentence, ‘…and we have the technology, the alien technology, to create free energy.  It’s just that the governments will not let it be used.  They are keeping it from us.’  At this point I actually physically moved my chair back to leave but then decided this was too much fun to not listen.  But soon after that the monologue was over and we all left, perplexed and possibly dazed, to go on our trek – all agreed that checking out tomorrow might be best for all of us.

After getting lost on our trek and failing to find a bridge we eventually made it back to the hostel, had dinner and spent the evening chatting to Chris.  I had mentioned to the guys about his walk across America, so we chatted quite a bit about it.  Some great stories I hadn’t heard the last time we talked about it.

Thursday 8th December – Laguna Churup

After surviving the night without being abducted by aliens or kidnapped by government forces (I’m feeling a bit uneasy now I know the truth.  Surely this is highly-classified top-secret-with-a-big-red-stamp stuff that we should not have knowledge of.  I’ll be sleeping with one eye open for a few days) we get up and prepare and for a trek to Laguna Churup.  Last night I gave the hostel my laundry to do, which I was informed would be done overnight when the generator was on.  This morning, knowing we’d be leaving as soon as we got back from the trek, I asked for it back so I could pack.  And give it back they did – in a big basket, wet, with clothes pegs, and directions to the clothes line to hang it up.  Jaw dropped and fury raised I angrily made my way over and hung it up with Brian who was going through the same experience.  The next 15 minutes of any conversation with me contained many expletives.  Plus, surely their alien free energy technology could have at least dried my clothes.

After this early morning hassle, we made our way to Laguna Churup at an altitude of 4450m.  Starting at an altitude of 3712m, it was a steady but slow walk for about three hours, with towering snowcapped mountains in the distance, before we reached a waterfall that we had to scale.  There were cables attached to the rocks at the side of the waterfall which helped us clamber up before finally reaching the lagoon.  The lagoon was beautiful.  After eating a quick lunch supplied by the hostel and preparing ourselves to leave I decided I wanted to see what was on the other side of a high pile of boulders, and I’m glad I checked.  It was the rest of the lagoon.  What we had been looking at was only about one-third.  We also had a much better view of the valley below and the distant mountains.

Once we were done we headed back to the hostel, I packed my now thankfully dry clothes and we made a quick escape to Huaraz, having a bite to eat at Café Andino and then checking into La Colmena Hostel, who initially didn’t have a room, and then magically found one with six beds for the four of us after Helen enquired about what other hostels were available.

Friday 9th December – Rock Climbing

The first thing I did today was book a flight from Lima to Cuzco.  We are all heading to Lima tonight with Helen, Brian and Rinath staying there for a day or two.  But I have decided that I have to get to Cuzco to trek to Machu Picchu as soon as I can before heading to Arequipa in southern Peru to tackle El Misti volcano.  While I was busy sorting my flight Helen and Rinath went out and found the details of a rock climbing place we could go to.  My plan in Huaraz was to stay for a few days and do a rock climbing course, but during our time here the weather has been pretty bad with rain in the afternoons each day, so I have scrapped those plans.

So in the afternoon, Helen, Rinath and I set off for our rock climbing.  After getting kitted out at the tour office, we got a taxi to the rock face.  This is just about where I freaked out.  My vision of rock climbing was to hit a rock face and climb up.  Not this one.  Here we had to abseil down the rock face before beginning to climb up.  This is a whole other situation for me.  Once our instructor, Freddy, had readied everything and set the ropes it was time to start.  No way was I going first, but Helen had bravely stepped forward and said she would go first.  Even watching her go over the edge was bad enough for me.  Then after being lowered down about 15m she began to climb up.  This part I couldn’t see.  But eventually she popped back up over the top.  Now for the next person.  Still unsure about whether I’d actually do it or not, Rinath stepped up and had her go.  Now it was time for me.  I struggled to even decide whether to do it or not but somehow managed to.  Nerves shot, I walked over to the edge to start the abseil down, but I just couldn’t do it.  Clinging to the rock and with Freddy telling me there was nothing to worry about I reached deep down for my last piece of courage and stepped back, firing a barrage of questions at Freddy about exactly what I had to do.  Finally I started the repel.  Once I had started, the only thought going through my head was, ‘What was I so worried about.  This is so much fun!’.  After being lowered to the starting point it was time to climb up.  It was so tough.  Finding any foothold was almost impossible and with the rain starting the rocks were slippery.  But I knew that if any slips did occur, Freddy would stop the fall.  Very slowly I made my way up.  Every metre was an effort and at one stage I was thinking I would never make it and would have to get lowered to the bottom.  But I summoned every piece of strength I had.  As I reached the top my right arm just gave up.  I had no strength left at all and my mouth was completely dry with nerves.  But after a rest, I managed to reach the last ledge and slowly and painfully get over the top.  I was so happy.  I had done it.  Exhausted and not even able to speak, I could only manage the words, ‘I need water!’.  Another first to add to the list – rock climbing.  All thanks to Helen and Rinath encouraging me on, without which I don’t think I would even have contemplated walking over to start the abseil.

After our exciting day, we went back into Huaraz, met up with Brian, had food in Café Andino again and then went to get our bus to Lima at 11 p.m.

Saturday 10th December – South America – I’m beginning to hate you

I don’t even know where to start explaining what is probably the worst day on my travelling so far.  So much of this day went wrong.

After boarding the bus last night we left just before 11 p.m.  It would seem that the people running the bus company have failed to realise that the reason people get an overnight bus to sleep through the 12 or so hours the journey takes.  As soon as we start moving, the TVs are put on and we are subjected to the most awful music I have ever heard, accompanied by even more horrendous music videos.  It’s all local music and local bands.  Each video seems be of the format – show band singing in some remote location, show band playing live on stage, show a very, very scantily clad woman dancing to band’s music – repeat for duration of song.  This continues until 1 a.m. at a volume loud enough to make me rip my ears off, or at least put my foot through the speakers.  I have failed to find one of these videos on YouTube to give an example.  Even YouTube have banned them it would appear.  Finally with the music off it was time to attempt to sleep.  Since we left I had noticed that every other vehicle was overtaking us and we were going at a slower than usual speed.  Then, in the absolutely middle of nowhere in Peru, complete blackness outside, the bus approaches a hill, chugs a little, and comes to a complete halt, losing all power.  The very courteous staff on the bus helped us through this situation by giving us absolutely no details whatsoever as to what was going on.  After hearing a commotion happening below us, the bus eventually regained power, and slowly moved forward.  For a while every upward hill was a struggle and every downward hill a nightmare as the driver seemed intent on making up time on the downward hills.  Then, for reasons unknown, the bus finally seemed to start functioning properly and we were on our way to Lima properly.  Time for sleep.  Not a chance.  The road was so bendy I was getting swung from side to side.  Thankfully though these were not mountain roads with a huge drop to one side, this road seemed to have been blasted through the mountain rocks.  After a tortuous journey of eight hours we finally reached Lima and about 6.30 a.m.  I had a total of about one hours’ sleep.

At the bus depot in Lima, a city infamous for its dangerous taxis, we get a Movil (the bus company) approved taxi driver, Edward, who took us to the Loki hostel.  The other guys were staying there, so I decided I would just hang around there until 9 a.m. when I had to leave to get my flight.  I arranged for Edward to come back and take me to the airport.

At this stage I’m becoming delirious through lack of sleep and starting to feel sick – blaming it on an empanada I had yesterday before going rock climbing.  After saying my sad goodbyes to Helen, Rinath and Brian (Rinath says Power Ballads will always remind her of me – I like that), Edward arrives and takes me to the airport.  Upon reaching the airport I gave him the agreed taxi fare of 45 Soles.  What happens next I am very angry about, both at myself and at the rip off culture which is starting to make me hate South America.  Edward immediately says, ‘No the fare is $45’.  That’s three times more than 45 Soles.  After a stand-off and failing to find anyone at the airport to back up my side of the story I was forced into giving him $45 so I could get my bags.  I’m blaming a lot of this on lack of sleep and how ill I’m feeling.

The airport for once goes to plan, no major incidents to report (well apart from the check-in desk telling me the wrong gate and me having to dash across the airport to get on my flight just before boarding closes – but that just seems minor compared to the rest of my day so far).  As soon as I sat on my seat I passed out.  A much needed sleep.  But on waking I noticed that the plane had not moved – it’s still on the tarmac in Lima.  I should be in Cuzco already.  After another 20 minutes or so we finally take off - Cuzco bound at last.  After an hour or so we are approaching Cuzco to land when suddenly on final approach the pilot pulls the plane sharply back up.  The staff on the plane are as helpful as the staff on the bus last night giving no explanation at all.  After 20 minutes of circling the pilot finally informs us that the first landing was aborted due to poor visibility and that we would make a second attempt, and if it that failed we would be returning to Lima.  My heart sank.  I cannot return to Lima.  This journey has been hell.  I can’t go back to Lima.  With all extremities crossed we approached and thankfully landed in Cuzco. 

After collecting my bag all I had to do was meet my arranged airport pickup with Pariwana Hostel.  I didn’t expect this to go smoothly, and sure enough it didn’t.  There was no one there to meet me.  After waiting around for 30 minutes in the remote hope that they would arrive I gave up and jumped in an official taxi (only after asking a couple if I could share a taxi with them, which they refused to do – I hope they got their luggage stolen by their taxi driver).  Half an hour later we arrive in the centre of Cuzco and the driver pulled up in a square, which I know was close to the hostel but it’s not the hostel.  In a mix of terrible English from him and terrible Spanish from me, he demanded that I give him 50 Soles as he has no change – the journey costs 25 Soles.  His plan is to leave me, wander around the square and try to get change.  I’m left sitting in his bus and he eventually arrives back – mission unsuccessful.  We agree – an option I explained to him in detail earlier – that I could get change at the hostel.  Once this farce is sorted, the hostel tell me I was ripped off and after explaining everything to them they seem very unconcerned that this was as a result of their airport pickup failing.

At this point I am ready to collapse.  I’m exhausted, still delirious and feeling extremely ill.  It’s 3 p.m. and the only thing I can do is crawl into bed.  After getting a few hours of broken sleep, I try to eat some tomato soup in the hostel but can’t manage to finish it.  Then it’s straight back to bed at 10 p.m.

Finally the day is over.  Well not quite.  At about 2 a.m. I was woken by two people, a boy and girl, coming into my dorm.  They climbed into the top bunk beside me.  Suffice to say I didn’t get back to sleep for about half an hour.

Finally, finally the day is over   One I don’t ever want repeated.  Travelling is amazing but it can only be expected and is an almost certainty that not everything goes to plan.  Today was one of those days.

Onwards and upwards.

Final Days In Ecuador - Banos, Cuenca and Vilcabamba

Friday 25th November – Cotopaxi – Uninspired Bicycles

Oh the pain.  I woke up this morning and attempted to get out of bed when a pain equivalent to someone stabbing a knife in my back shot up spine.  The horse riding is now showing its after effects.  But the pain is soon eased by the fact that the weather has cleared and views of Cotopaxi are amazing.  I really can’t get enough of it. 

Agonizing backs put to one side, Helen and I decided to take a few bikes belonging to the hostel and explore the Cotopaxi countryside by ourselves.  That would have been fine except the bikes were long overdue for some repair.  Gears and brakes were used at your own risk, so after a mere 15 minutes of hard slog the bikes were ditched behind a hedge and we went on foot instead.  After hitting a dead end and back tracking we walked some of the same route as the horse riding before heading back to the hostel and getting absolutely drenched.  Luckily the bikes had not been stolen – or maybe it would have been better if they had.  They certainly did nothing to help my aching back.

After getting back and drying out, we headed off to get the bus to Banos.  Suspensions on Ecuadorian buses do not exist.  After a bumpy three hours (a once stage actually bouncing so high out of the seat and hitting my head on the roof of the bus) we reach Banos, head out for a bite to eat, a few relaxed drinks and plan a massage for tomorrow to repair our backs from the damage caused by the horses and buses.

Saturday 26th November – Massage Therapy

After waking up at 8 a.m. with the same pain in my back, if not worse due to the bus,, I can’t wait to get a massage – something I have only ever had once before in Morocco.  It really helps and leaves me feeling so relaxed I could crawl back into bed.  Mind you, during the whole experience I realised I’m not a massage fan, or at least not one given by a guy whose hands are so rough I can’t relax, followed by him almost pulling my arms out of their sockets.  We follow up the massage with a trips to the banos – no not the toilet, the baths, which the town are named after.  This is a great experience.  There are three pools – one freezing cold, one warm, the last one roasting.  After preparing by jumping into the cold one (memories of that waterfall jump come flooding back again) we head for the warm one.  This is more like it.  Then the roasting one.  I can barely get in it’s so hot.  Then time for the extremes.  The baths are set beautifully outdoors beside a huge waterfall.  Three showers have been piped into the waterfall which are colder than the cold pool.  Helen and I struggle to stand under these, but when done charge straight into the hottest pool.  What a feeling.  They are such extremes that your skin begins to tingle with the heat.  Doing this is supposed to be good for you in some sort of way - and it feels it.

Once we finished in the baths we headed back to our hostel, Plantas y Blanco, and met Kris.  We had met Kris in Quito and Cotopaxi and arranged to meet up again in Banos.  We all headed to Casa Hood, where we bumped into Rinath, who we had also met in Quito and Cotopaxi.

Afterwards we headed to the market and picked up some things to cook dinner in the evening.  As my cooking skills leave a lot to be desired (well I’m not that bad, I just wouldn’t inflict it on two people I have just met), I let Helen and Kris do the hard work.  It was great to get some home cooked food again as the last time I had it was in Panama.  We then chilled on the rooftop terrace having beers and playing games with Grant and Mike from New Zealand.  Once everyone else had disappeared (bed or out on the town) Helen and I got talking to the night porter.  He spoke Quechua and began to teach us some phrases, which I somehow managed to correctly pronounce every time.  Maybe it’s time to quite my Spanish attempts and switch language.

Sunday 27th November – Volcán Tungurahua

Although we were supposed to leave Banos today we decided to stay and trek to Volcán Tungurahua along with Kris.  This involved trekking up a mountain behind the hostel to get to the other side for the view.  The climb itself wasn’t too difficult.  The Ecuadorian attempts at measurements were.  After making it to almost the end of the trek, we finally see a sigh saying ‘Mirador de Volcán – 800m’.  After walking about 400m, the next sign said 600m.  After about another four completely inaccurate signs, each separated by about 200m but claiming we had only come 100m, I began to think we were chasing a ghost.  But finally the volcano began to come into view.  It was amazing and immense.  Tungurahua is an active volcano which last had some activity about eight months ago and is too volatile to actually trek on .  As with Arenal, I stood there hoping for an eruption. 

On the trek back down again we bumped into a group of five despondent people attempting to find the mirador and asking, ‘Where is the mirador?  In the last 20 minutes we’ve just passed three signs all saying 300m.  Is it much further?’  Glad it wasn’t only us struggling with the measurement techniques.  I reassured them it existed.

After passing through a near-by town which had a basketball court which doubled as a shelter when the volcano erupted (at least the people could kill some time by throwing a few hoops) we slide our way down the steep path to Banos, getting some perfect views of the city nestled in-between the mountains, then cooked some food – I managed to make the guacamole this time.

Throughout our time in Banos we bumped into a very strange guy in the hostel.  This guy was odd to say the least, predicting that the world would one day all speak English so why bother learning Spanish and the reason people were vegetarians was due to the fact that they had an uncontrollable urge to bite humans.  He also disappeared into thin air one day – no joking.

Monday 28th November – Absolutely Devastated

Today Kris, Helen and I headed to Cuenca, another city in Ecuador.  En route to the bus station we met Rinath who joined us to get the bus.  Once we boarded the bus and headed out of Banos, Helen looked out the window and said, ‘There looks to be smoke coming out of the volcano’, and there was.  Another passenger on the bus informed us that Tungurahua has erupted during the night.  Devastated doesn’t even come close to how I felt.  I couldn’t believe that I was up looking at it yesterday hoping for an eruption and now I find out it had done so when I was on a bus leaving town.  I was very close to getting the bus to stop and get back somehow.  From the bus I managed to get a photo.  My mind racing trying to work out what to do I decided not to go back.  Maybe I’ll regret it, but now I have to keep moving south.  I cannot believe the timing.  But then again, at least I returned to Banos and managed to see it from the bus.  That’s something.

After a strange bus transfer in Rio Bamba (we tried to buy a ticket but were told get a taxi and chase the bus which had just left and get it somewhere else in town) we start our final leg of the trip to Cuenca  On the bus we met Brian, who we had met in Banos.  So upon arrival in a rainy Cuenca our healthy travelling troupe of me, Kris, Helen Rinath and Brain check into La Cigale for the night.

Tuesday 29th November – Cuenca

Cuenca is a very beautiful city and could not be more different to Quito.  It has a very different relaxed feel with beautiful buildings and very clean streets and from what I can see lacks the bleakness of other cities I have been to.  We spent the day wandering around, stopping off at some pre-Columbian ruins before visiting a museum (with some very odd videos playing in the foyer – one showing a woman constantly having her head thrust into a barrel of water but a torturer of sorts, another of a burly policeman demonstrating his truncheon skills, and one of a cigarette end rolling on an escalator – I do not understand this type of art).  The rest of the museum was pretty normal showing the traditional life of the indigenous people and how they managed to create their shrunken heads.  These were  made from their enemies heads and worn as a sign of their victory in battles.  Very strange looking and macabre.  Then after lunch we realised that the ruins we saw in the morning were not the actual ruins we were looking and found the proper ones beside the museum.  These are huge and pretty impressive.  However, for me their authenticity is somewhat questionable as I could clearing see three workmen putting the finishing touches to some parts.

The evening was spent at Eucalyptus Restaurant for a fantastic bite to eat.  Backpacker food it isn’t.

Wednesday 30th November – Peru Planning

Tomorrow it’s time for me to leave the group and head to Peru so today I spent my time working out the best route and found a bus straight from Cuenca to Piura in northern Peru which I’ll be getting tomorrow.  I’ll be back on the road by myself again while the others head to Vilcabamba.  So in the evening we have goodbye drinks and are joined by Floor.  I’m not quite sure how, but some of us ended up in a salsa club.  I did not salsa.  I still don’t know how to salsa.

Thursday 1st December – The Best Laid Plans…

After sitting around the hostel all day recovering from last night and waiting to get my bus to Piura, everything changes.  All the guys were about to leave for their bus to Vilcabamba and after last night subtly trying to convince me to join them (floating Vilcabamba brochures across my laptop screen, constantly saying Vilcabamba when they pass me) I decide at the very last minute to scrap my Peru plans and join them - with Floor joining in the adventure too.

The first bus we have to get is to Loja.  Sitting in the very front seat I finally I get to see the driver and his companion in action.  Every bus driver in Ecuador has a companion.  I now work out that it is his job to drum up business for the bus.  As we leave Cuenca, he constantly jumps off the bus, letting everyone on the street know where we are heading and trying to get people on the bus.  A task he is very successful at convincing anyone he can to get on the bus.  I’m sure there are people on our bus who just popped out for a loaf of bread and some milk and have mysteriously found themselves on a bus to Loja instead of enjoying some tea and toast at home

As the bus continues out of Cuenca, the night falls, the bus rises into the mountains, the clouds come down and my heart rate soars.  Sitting in the very front seat beside Helen we have the worst view of this journey possible.  The road is through the mountains with sheer drops to the side.  The clouds have completely closed in and the visibility is about 50m.  Our driver is a lunatic.  The conditions do not deter him from speeding along the roads, taking blind corners on the wrong side of the road, and for unknown reasons turning the lights off every so often.  At one point the conditions are so bad his companion is directing him as to which way the corners are.  I am gripping the seat, my stomach churning with fear, trying not to look out but wanting to as well so I know that we are still on the road.  At times he just drives on the wrong side of the road for 500m.  There is no reason for this.  Eventually we descend a bit and the clouds disappear, but fear does not as he is still going much too fast and it’s now pitch black.  This continues for three hours, the fear never leaving me.  Helen is beside me feeling the same way.  We can’t even talk to each other it is so awful.  I’ve never been more pleased to see the lights of a city come into view.  Eventually the nightmare is over and we reach Loja.

Once we get off the bus from hell we are just in time to get the last bus to Vilcabamba, a much more pleasant journey and check into Izhcayluma Hotel.  It’s about 11 p.m. but even now we can see this an amazing place.  We get shown to our rooms and I have a double bed.  Luxury.  Slightly tinged by the fact that it’s beside another double with a complaining couple in it.  My attitude to this - you are in a dorm - if you want privacy get a private room.  Sorry – rant over.  After a few drinks we head to bed – glad to be alive after the bus journey – and prepare ourselves for some trekking tomorrow.

Friday 2nd December – Believe Me, It’s The Cows Who Know

Happy Birthday Deirdre!!

We all trekked to a waterfall today.  The trek was great through high mountains and across rivers until eventually reaching the waterfall.  We were hoping to swim in the pool at the bottom, but it was too small and much to cold.  On the way we came across several cows blocking our path.  Cows and me are not a good mix.  Firstly, and I really found out on this trek, I am terrified of them.  They are very unpredictable and dangerous, especially the bulls – those horns should be enough to scare anyone.  Plus, and some people know my theory on this, the cows know something they are not telling this.  I told Kris and Helen my theory on the trek to Tungurahua.  They don’t agree, no one does, but we’ll find out some day and it’ll be too late for us all.  It was on the way back on this trek when I got most terrified of the cows.  As we approached the end we passed a bull on the side of the track and then within a few metres another one was blocking our path.  As we turned to retreat the one we passed had started an ambush tactic and blocked our retreat.  I was frozen with fear.  Brian was at the front with the bull huffing and puffing and scraping its hoof on the ground.  Not knowing where to turn we eventually spotted a gap in the trees and the fence and made our way off the path (me almost decapitating myself on the barbed wire as I was in such a rush to get away).  At this point the bulls seemed to have gotten bored (or as I’d rather put it – accepted our tactical victory) and walked away, allowing us to return to the track. 

After that drama we got to the hostel, swan in their swimming pool, grabbed dinner, drank too much, tried to stay up for the sunrise, failed and went to bed.

Saturday 3rd December – Finally Peru Bound

Happy Birthday Caitlin!!

With a heavy head and knowing the journey I have in front of me tonight, I spent the day relaxing in the Izhcayluma Hotel and called home as I haven’t spoken to anyone in ages.  Once we all readied ourselves we headed back into Loja, joined by Edwin, to get our buses.  Sadly Kris and Floor were off in a different direction so we had to say our goodbyes before hopping on our overnight bus to Piura.  Tomorrow morning I’ll finally be Peru.