Colca Canyon

We arrived to Arequipa, the second largest city in Peru on our nicest bus so far, so the journey was a breeze.  I suppose any bus where we´re not robbed or end up in a ditch is a luxury.  The city of Arequipa stands in a beautiful valley at the foot of El Misti volcano, a snow-capped, perfect cone.

Arequipa is known as the ´White City´, originally because the conquistadors (with lighter skin than the indigenous people) settled here, but later because of the white volcanic ´sillar´ stone that predominates in the construction of the buildings.  We had a whirlwind tour of the place because (just in case no-one else is aware), Christmas is fast approaching.  We have booked accommodation in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia for Christmas Eve to Boxing Day and still have some more of Peru to squeeze in before then, so no time to hang about.  After booking a 4 day of the Colca Canyon to leave early the following morning, we headed to one of the highlights of Arequipa, the Santa Catalina convent.  Occupying a whole block and guarded by imposing high walls, this convent was founded in 1580 by a wealthy widow who picked her nuns from richest Spanish families.  The nuns lived pretty well actually - the complex is like a city within a city, with named narrow streets, plazas with fruit trees, beautiful courtyards and spacious living quarters.  The monastery was open to the public in 1970. and the remaining nuns have retreated to one small section.

The next day we were picked up by a mini bus and met the rest of the people who were to do the first day of the tour with us (we were the only ones booked to do the four day/3 night extended version).  There were 12 of us altogether.  We headed to Colca Canyon, one of the deepest canyons in the world at 3200m.  On the way, we reached the highest altitude we`ve been at in South America, 4900 metres above sea level.  Apart from the occasional popping in the ears, we weren't really aware of any feelings of altitude sickness.  We passed through a nature reserve and spotted many alpacas and lamas (old hat by now), but also a more reclusive member of the family, the vicuna, plus some rabbits with long curly tails (can´t remember the name).  Our guide (Irene) was amazing, really informative and interesting.  She had her work cut out because a couple in the group were Spanish so she would repeat each sentence or part of a sentence in Spanish, which was a good way of learning a few more Spanish words.

We stopped at a cafe along the way which sold coca leaves.  Most of us bought some plus a little chunk of stone catalyst because Irene said she would teach us how to chew them.  Now, coca leaves are a big deal in South America.  Whenever you get served tea, you are offered a variety of tea bags - aniseed, ´pure´ (breakfast) tea and camomile, served in a whicker basket with a pile of fresh coca leaves in the middle.  It`s standard.  You can either infuse the leaves in hot water (comes in a thermos - even in a restaurant!) on their own or in addition to a tea bag.  It´s supposed to offer a mildly stimulating effect.  South Americans are fiercely protective of the coca leaf - you can buy T-shirts everywhere that say ´Coca no es drooga´ (Coca is not a drug).  Cocaine comes from the same plant but is a completely different story.  The natural coca leaf is supposed to combat symptoms of thirst or hunger, combat symptoms of altitude sickness, lower cholesterol and has loads of other attributes.  Apparently studies carried out at the University of Harvard concluded that you would need to eat over 20kg of coca leaves to consume enough to get addicted to it.  In order to get the most out of the leaves in less time, you can buy an alkaline catalyst.  You crumble some of this within a bunch of about 20 coca leaves, wrap it up and chew it on one side of your mouth until all the juices from the leaves are extracted.  Apart from taste exactly like you`d expect a bunch of leaves to taste with grit inside them, all it does is make that side of your mouth a bit numb.  I spat it out before it made me vomit.  Brad, being clever, didn't want to try it.  He just pointed out that I had green bits stuck in my teeth and laughed at me.

We walked through the village of Chivay, saw giant hummingbirds (with a wing span of 30cm) and some tombs cut out of the mountain-sides with piles of bones from pre-Inca times (just like the ones that Brad described from Nazca in the previous blog).  A donkey jumped a fence and was chased after by a farmer, which was funny until he threw a rock at him to teach him a lesson.  We went to the thermal baths with a temperature of 40 degrees centigrade.  The water actually comes out the ground at 80 degrees and has to be cooled down in pipes before the five pools, indoor and out, are filled.  It was really nice, but was one of those too hot in the pool, too cold out of it kind of experiences.

In the evening over dinner, we were treated to three types of local traditional dances - Mother Earth, Love and Malaria (?!), all danced by a very bored looking couple to a band.  The latter dance told the story of a local person who had returned from the jungle with malaria which had not been seen before in the highlands.  When they started convulsing on the floor, the local people thought the person had taken leave of their senses and proceeded to try and whip some sense into them with a length of rope.  The most funny part was when members of the audience were selected to act out the part of the person who had contracted malaria.  The dancers didn´t hold back with the whipping part.  It looked painful, but was so funny to watch.

The restaurant was full of groups of tourists.  The staff were so keen to deal with each table fast that each course would arrive just after the previous one was served.  We ate alpaca meat (the meat of choice in this region) - tastes just like beef really.

On the second day we woke at 5am to make our way to see the main reason tourists visit the Colca Canyon - a chance to see the national bird of Peru, the condor, at close range.  Yeah right.  If I were a condor I wouldn`t glide past dozens of loud, excitable tourists either.  We saw some from a distance, and Brad and I were lucky enough to see some at a closer range later on, whilst hiking within the canyon.  Condors are the second largest bird after the albatross.  They feed off dead animals and so are not birds of prey - they glide on thermal winds rather than flap their wings, so are quite majestic and graceful.  From this point we left the rest of the group, met our new guide Ali and proceeded to start the hike.

We walked for about three hours each day for three days - about 6km each time. Downhill within the canyon the first day to spend the night at it´s base alongside the river, further along the canyon to an ´oasis´ - the easiest flattish walk on the second day, and uphill to the top of the canyon again (before breakfast too!) on the last day.  The nights we spent without the rest of the group were in villages within the canyon with no hot showers or electricity and again, like the Inca Trail, we were in bed at sundown and up really early.  With no road access, the only way to get to these villages is by foot, or on donkeys, horses or mules.  We actually had the option of doing the last uphill stretch on one of these, but declined.  That´s just cheating.  The routes we took zig-zagged up and down the sides of the canyon, often with a very sandy surface, which made the downhill sections quite slippery.  Along the way were short-cuts that the locals use - much more steep and dangerous.  A sharp reminder to watch your step are several wooden crosses along the way to mark where people have fallen and been killed.  We were happy to have a guide with us to navigate.

Originally a little perturbed that it would be just the two of us with a guide, we quickly discovered that Ali was quite cool.  The poor bloke was blind in one eye due to an accident with a glass milk bottle when he was three years old.  Apart from keeping our walking safe, he was very important to us because he carried our food while we were in the canyon and cooked us really nice meals.  Apart from any food grown within the canyon, all food has to brought along the routes from the top.  We found that bottles of water (and a sneaky beer) were four times the normal price - understandable when you realise that the locals probably go without those heavy, bulky items.

Ali taught us a lot about life in the villages within the canyon.  He explained that young people are (understandably) leaving the villages (and a hard farming life) for better-paying, easier jobs in cities like Arequipa.  The population within the villages is ageing and schools within each village for the handful of children that live there have teachers who come and teach when it suits them.  This coupled with a desire to keep the children within the villages (and perhaps not give them ideas ´above their station´), makes the education of the young tricky.  Quechua, the language of the indigenous people, is a dying one because it is often shunned and frowned upon by the cities and no longer taught.  People often speak a mixture of Quechuan and Spanish now.  We learnt how you can distinguish between the people living in the villages in the higher parts of the canyon with those from the lower by the hats the women wear - white in the lower regions and colourful embroidered ones in the higher.  The skirts the women wear are so ornately decorated and cost a lot, even by our standards.  We managed to get a few sneaky photos of locals, mostly from the bus on the way back.