And so the journey continues, through valleys and over peaks... desert and lush greenery... all the way to lake titicaca. I officially crossed the border to bolivia by 8 km to a town named Copacabana. Lots to do there if your the yuppy type... touristy boat trips, expensive tours to a million reeds that had been tied together and given the name ¨floating island¨, and two true islands that consume your money every which way you turn... so I ran away. Down a dirt path and along the coast into the farm lands where myself and three other comrades found a decent little beach to camp out with our friend san pedro. Hes a funny character with a sharp personality, and although he can make you feel quite uncomfortable at times the experience of his company proved to be quite riveting. The beach was at the bottom of a cliff aka garbage disposal site that took alot of care to scale. Aside from the two car wrecks and the scattered bones (from an undetermined source.... most likely pertaining to the ¨car that thought it could fly¨.) the beach was a perfect place to camp. If only miss Amanda Fox had joined the expedition, Im sure she could have told me the entire history of the mans ancestors as well as what he fancied for a quick bite 5 minutes before milking the goats on a sunday evening just by looking at the broken femur.... anywho. The sun set; amazing, and the sun rise... riddled with coffee and fishermen... also amazing. The lake itself is quite large, large enough to give you the illusion that your sitting back at home on lake huron... aside from the mountains and volcanoes which doesnt really fit the northern ontario profile. It did however feel incredibly fulfilling to camp again. Hostals are great and beds can be much more comfortable, but nothing beats a fire at night in front of a body of water while storm clouds illuminated by sheats of lightening fill the skies. I left Lake Titicaca to head towards Colca Canyon... it only took 10 hours to get to arequipa and another 4 to Colca Canyon... I arrived with no more than 40 dollars in my pocket to a small town called Cabanaconde and proceeded to seek out a decent hike around the area... and man did I find one. Colca Canyon is incredible. Cabanaconde rests at 3200 meters, not even close to the highest peaks in the canyon. This particular area has some of the highest highs and the lowest lows giving the grand canyon a worthy competitor in the ¨deepest canyon in the world¨ game. I eventually conjured up a route that appealed to me, and found two others at the hostal that cared to partake in the journey; rafael from Panama and Julie from Switzerland. It was a 70 km, 4 day trek that brought you through vast canyons and intense peaks. The first day was incredibly hot. The trail was an intense traders route that locals in the area used before the construction of roads. It was steep and grueling as every step pushed your weight onto your feet which pressed into your toes against the boots struggling to hold a grip on some of the steepest terrain Ive ever encountered... I still thank my lucky stars that they didnt follow the inca people in their insatiable longing to construct stairs everywhere and anywhere the deemed fit... which was everywhere. Needless to say within the first couple hours my toes were replaced with blisters. It was all worth it when we got to the bottom and found boiling water firing out of the river. The hot springs stank like a skunks dirty butt, but felt so amazing. Unfortunately for Rafael the hot water had relaxed his muscles to a state of incompetence... He struggled up the other side of the canyon with cramping muscles for another 3 km before reaching one of the most amazing towns. There were only about 7 people in this small town, and one family had decided to open a sort of hostal type accomodation dealio for hikers. The room where we stayed felt like a cellar. Three of the walls were stone and clay while the other was made of loosely tied bamboo. The beds were comfortable, but we were advised to check for scorpions before getting cozy. During dinner I had the priviledge of encountering one as it crawled along the glass directly behind my head... freaking awesome. They had constructed small concrete tubs right by the river filled with water flowing from a nearby hot spring. If theres one thing that puts you to sleep its a painful hike and a soothing bath. Then we woke up... figure that out. The second day was incredibly hot. We thanked the family for everything and went up... and up... and up... .... ............... it was alot of up. Just as far down as we came the day previous we escalated the opposite side of the canyon through a steep valley. Again with the locals... I just dont get it. Why they continue to hike so far into the middle of nowhere and build towns on 45 degree grades is beyond me. We continued through the valley toward a small village called Fure. My comrades were slowly deteriorating and we each went our own pace to reach the destination. At this point my shirt and shorts had been so stained with body salt they had literally changed colour. THE DESERT IS SO HOT!!! The hostal in Fure felt like prison, it was amazing. Clay mortar and bricks with rebar in the windows. The woman that owned it was incredibly nice. Not much happened that night. I had been carrying a bottle of wine with me this entire time and a mickey of anise liquor, so we drank and slept. I needed to shed the pounds... The plan was to reach the end of the valley, turn back and make the trek out of the high elevation to a valley town... When it came to wake at 5 in the morning to start the end of the valley trek I found myself to be the only coherent and keen person for the journey... So I set out to bag yet another peak of the south american andes. The path was littered with sheep and beef... angry beef... angry beef that didnt want you to pass, and if you tried they would kick theyre delicious little hooves and your soft little skull... so the walk was a little slow at times. By the time I made it to the end of the valley the sun was starting to peek over the mountain tops just as I reached an amazing water fall. I was alone with the sheep and the beef in an amazing valley to enjoy the sunset while listening to ole heart break gordy lightfoot sing about his collection of broken relationships... By the time I got back the sun had hit the town of Fure and I realized that day three was going to be incredibly hot. We ate breakfast at around 9 after waking the others up and carried on. We spotted a couple condors on the way (massive birds! also... theyre not conchords... I made that mistake when talking about machu picchu) and made the descent to the valley bottom... from here not much happened... we walked, ¨enjoyed¨ the sun, and carried on, camped, had a fire, slept... The next day was all up... and it was incredibly hot. We made it back to cabanaconde at around noon only to find out that all these hostals and meals Id been enjoying had left me completely broke... so off to the bank... no bank... how bout an atm... nope... none... well I must have enough to get me back to the next town with an atm... Its only 2 dollars for the bus... nope, not even 2 dollars. If it wasnt for rafael I would still be stuck in the canyon herding sheep for 20 cents a day... thanks raffi. youtube/watch?v=dIiZ3vvZ78s Im now awaiting the next bus to Huaraz to continue my hiking adventures into the lands of altitude sickness and dilerium. After that.... amazon boat trips and jungle tours... please no dengue, please no dengue
Posted on: Mon, 24 Nov 2014 16:37:02 +0000
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