Colca Trek picked us up at about 8am on Thursday morning and we piled our stuff and ourselves into a 16 person minivan along with three other Brits, an Aussie, two Danes and Three Norwegians, our driver (Sergio) and our guide (Carlos).
Heading out of Arequipa we drove through what seemed like twenty kilometers of slums that dwindled into a series of what can only be called pens and finally just the desert. Carlos told us that the pens were in fact small holdings of a sort built by local “business men” who hope that Arequipa will sprawl out so far and their nearly-free-to-them land (just the cost of the walls) would suddenly be worth something. It would be really sad to see this happen as it can only happen as an extension of the existing slums which are pretty dire: mainly comprised of one room shacks made out of a variety of stone and concrete building materials and being no more than 3m x 3m, roofed with corrugated metal with no running water, usually no electricity, obviously no sewer, no gas, no anything in fact other than a place to huddle in your misery and squalor. Carlos indicated that the inhabitants came from the surrounding mountain areas, usually had no education and little prospects. All very sad but very typical of developing countries.
Leaving the slums behind we entered a hilly, rambling, arid, muted brown landscape that steadily climbed up to the altiplano at 4000+ meters where we saw flocks of wild vicunas along with herds of domesticated alpacas and llamas. The air was very dry, warmish and breezy, the sun shone brightly, almost brilliantly, demanding wide-brimmed hats and sunglasses and lashings of sunscreen for the pasty and not so pasty amongst us.
Rambling on we crossed over the railroad tracks past a siding with a few dilapidated passenger cars from the days when Peru had a passenger service (freight only now) all the while driving on a rough dirt road running parallel with a nicely graded but completely off limits new road that has yet to be paved. It looks like the road could be paved at any time but yet there is an air of neglect that suggests that it will be some time, and has been some time already, before it will be paved. The roads we drove on, while dirt, were pretty smooth for the most part, a huge change from the “roads” in Costa Rica.
We stopped at an area called the Stone Forest which is a collection of volcanic outcroppings worn into contorted shapes mostly by the wind. As we were now at 4200 meters or so it was a good test of our lungs and hearts as we scrambled around amongst the stone giants.
Our highest point on the trip, a 4900 meter pass, was out next stop and it was grey, below freezing and snowing of all things. As we were mostly in shorts and t-shirts there we a quick scurrying to get into some warm gear before wandering off to see if there was anything to see which there wasn’t. In theory we should have been able to see a handful of volcanoes and other high peaks but the cloud defeated us.
We trundled down into Chivay, our lunchtime stop, pulling into a lay-by for a nice view down over the town and the valley. There were four local ladies dressed in Andean garb with baby alpacas tethered to each stall on the off chance that passing tourists would stop and photograph them for a sol or two before heading on. It was a bleak and cold vigil not likely to be much rewarded.
After the luxury of paved roads (started sometime along the road up to the mountain pass) we again made our way on well graded dirt with the occasional stream crossing over. We bumped our way along, occasionally stopping at scenic areas until we got to Cruz del Condor the local condor watching spot that is popular with the condors due to the confluences of several air streams and the narrowing valley/canyon. We walked along the cliff edge for mile or so at 4000 meters-ish, huffing and puffing and not seeing a single condor, thanks to the dismal weather presumably.
Our final stop for the night was the village of Cabanaconde where we filled a hostel mostly to capacity, ate, showered (very hot water) and slept. I got up in time to watch the sunrise paint the hills and warm the day. Cabanconde is at 3200 meters or so and gets quite chilly at night.
After a quick bread and eggs and wonderful fresh juice breakfast, we piled our belongings by the side of the road for the mule herder to load up and off we went to the edge of the precipitous decent into the Colca Canyon. The trail zigs an zags roughly down, 1200 meters down actually, to a place now know as '”The Oasis” but formerly known as Sangalle. The day was clear and hot and we were grateful to be going down as opposed to the slowly trudging turistas we met who were on the way up in ones and twos etc.
Not having eaten enough yet Carlos whipped up a huge pasta feast and handed out glasses of Chilean wine before telling us that we were to be up and packed by 4:30am the next morning and should be off on the trail at 5am-ish in order to be back at the rim no later than 9am. Shock horror etc etc.
Duly prizing ourselves out of bed, wolfing down a pancake feast and coffee we headed off up trail in the morning glimmer, watching the canyon brighten and congratulating ourselves on getting up early a) so we could see the sunrise and b) so we could be walking in the morning shade and cool.
We met with our driver, Sergio, who handed out bananas and mango juice and off we went for a second try with the condors (another bust), a few more scenic viewpoints and finally yet more food in Chivay but only after having soaked for an hour in the nearby hot springs.
We arrived in Arequipa, sore and happy at 6pm or so and pretty much all of us in our various hostels, showered and went to bed. Even the younger, 20-something crowd. Made us old farts feel good.
Just had a few moments to catch up on your blog. Great stuff! Too bad about the condors... but that Stone Forest looked pretty cool. Cheers!
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