Shadow of the Lama

Right, after a lot of time without posting, here I am playing catch-up. Photos are still a no-go after a frustrating afternoon spent in Lima trying to get something down from the cards.



Apart from that, things are great: I'm currently in Cusco, still travelling with Sarah, since we seem to have the same devastating sense of humour. We spent a few days in Lima mostly eating seafood and trying to get a bus ride to Cusco, but also dodging flea-bites from the hostal's mangy cat.



Right now, things are looking up: tomorrow should see us heading out to the Valle Sagrado (sacred valley), with its many Inca sites, then to Machu Picchu. We've decided not to bother taking any of the "tourist highway" treks to go there, but rather to do a "private" and more expensive tour of the Lares Valley over the course of 4 days - more nature, more wildlife, less people.


So tomorrow we're off for 3 days in the Valle Sagrado and MP, then 4 days of trekking, after which I should be able to rest for a couple of days (and write emails as well as FINALLY getting some pics up) before attempting another trek - perhaps 6 days around the Nevado Ausangate, although trekking companions for this seem to be in short supply. I may just end up heading down to Arequipa for a shorter trek there or straight to Lago Titicaca.



It's all a bit more rushed here than it really ought to have been, but we're covering a lot of ground before Sarah has to get back to Quito on Friday 8th. Will go more despacio afterwards :-)

The way I travel

Since I'm currently suffering from "downtime" in Lima - somehow the city has been good for company, wine and seafood but not much else - and am being frustrated at every turn in my quest to download images from my CF-card, I'll turn to a subject that's been on my mind for a while: the way I travel.



To make it quite plain right from the start, I'm weird (some would add "and wonderful" but that one's hotly disputed). Thus, I'm currently travelling for 3 1/2 months through Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and to be perfectly honest, I don't always enjoy the act of travelling.



That is to say, I'm perfectly able to enjoy myself in most places, but getting on a bus i.e. from Quito - which I quite liked - to Puerto Lopez was a bit of a drag: you've got to pack your bags, sling them over your shoulder, get to the bus station (usually at some uncomfortable hour), buy a ticket, settle into a seat and stay there for hours on end, whilst keeping in mind that your destination may not turn out the way you want. Whilst on the bloody thing, you're in a confined space, the countryside (especially between Quito and Pto Lopez) may not be much to look at, you get to your destination pretty well knackered, hungry and thirsty.



Travelling, for me, was mostly something to be quite anxious about. I notice that I've become a lot more relaxed about it in the last weeks, but at the start it was quite disquieting. Okay, so travelling with other people, rather than solo, is nicer. But the more buses I take, the more I find I'm starting to enjoy the change of pace associated with sitting around for hours and finally being able to get around to that book/that diary entry I've been putting off for so long.



I'm usually happy to stay in places I've decided to travel to, but getting there isn't always the greatest thing since sliced bread!



Oh, and Felizes Fiestas Patrias desde Peru!

Busreisen mit Nebenwirkungen

Also mittlerweile ist es fast 9 Uhr in Lima und ich bin schon wieder wach.

Peru hat mich bisher vor allem durch lange Busfahrten beeindruckt, die ich gluecklicherweise nicht alleine durchstehen musste. Im Endeffekt waren es dann natuerlich doch 36 Stunden, bis wir von Cuenca nach Chachapoyas gefahren waren. Nach 2 Tagen Ruinen besichtigen (leider ohne Zelten), ging es dann auch schon wieder weiter nach Lima / noch mal 24 stunden Bus am Stueck.

Die Nebenwirkungen halten sich bis jetzt aber in Grenzen: ausser einem recht grossen Vitamin- und Schlafdefizit habe ich nur einige Kratzspuren am Unterarm und meine Mitfahrerin Sarah meinen Gebissabdruck auf ihrem rechten Oberarm. Alles im gruenen Bereich.

Anonsten bleibt noch zu sagen, dass ich einige nette Fotos gemacht habe, die jedoch noch immer auf der Karte schlummern. Mal schauen wie schnell ich die runterbekomme.

Wenn euch diese Peruanische Reise ein wenig ueberstuerzt vorkommt, dann stimmt das wohl! Aber sobald wir in Cuzco sind (in etwa 4 Tagen), wird sich das tempo verlangsamen. Dort habe ich dann vor, 2 Wochen zu bleiben (inkl Trekking).

So, bevor ich jetzt getreten oder gebissen werde, muss ich zum Fruehstuek *gaehn*

(ooops, that was in German, I hadn't realised until just now - sorry)

Chacha-where now?

Chachapoyas, Peru. That's where I'm on the way to right now (thanks to the marvel of delayed posting). By now I ought to be on the second of 3 buses which will get me across the border to Peru. 5 hours from Cuenca to Loja, 8 hours (and a border crossing) to Piura, 8-10 hours to Chachapoyas. Have a drink for me tonight, would you?

Anyway, if you're interested in knowing what I'm planning to do in Chachapoyas check out this article:

After the Falls
Last spring, Peru announced it had discovered the world's third-tallest waterfall. We went to see this remote wonder, and discovered much more.

MUCH MORE! :-)

Trek to Ingapirca: 5 - Panoramas

Right, just to give you a final look at what the place looked like:

I've compiled my first panoramas using some freeware prog, that unfortunately left it's watermark in several places.



In no particular order, here's a view of the shore of the lake on Day 2, just before we reached the camp site above it at Paredones.



This is near Laguna las Tres Cruces, 2 hours after the start of Day 2, just before we reached the end of our first valley and crossed the ridge into the second one.



On top of the ridge Ioana and I walked on for two hours. Admittedly, there's a lot of crap in the foreground, so just imagine it was a whole lot better :-)



Taking a break on a big rock above the start of the lake which we camped above at the end of Day 2.



This is probably really hard to discern, unless you've got your computer monitor turned up to full brightness, but it is a 360degree view whilst standing on a part of the Ingañan on Day 3, which had a great number of boulders scattered across its width and paramo all around. The lighter, roughly triangular strip of ground you see in two parts of the picture is the Ingañan. That's what's left of Inca roads after 500 years of use without any maintenance... I'm reminded of working at that GKN site in Spain, but that's another story :-)

That's all for now, folks!

Trek to Ingapirca: 4 - One last muddy slog

Day 3 dawned wet and more uncomfortable than ever, so that we got a relatively quick start to shake off the chills. Alas, not one of the days provided a sunrise worth taking a picture of and only on the very first day did we see something akin to a sunset.



Raz making a run for it - along one of the stretches where the Ingañan wasn't yet well defined.



Low clouds, wet terrain but good speed, because the ground hadn't been turned into the Somme battlefields by herds of cattle or riders.



That's where we met civilization again, unfortunately for us only in the form of muddy paths that we had to take and where you could sink in to mid-thigh if you weren't careful.



Campesinos taking the paths every day with their livestock had turned the paths into quagmires. Thing is, in this part of the world the old welly (aka rubber boot) is the greatest thing since sliced bread.



I've made my point, you say?



Ioana and Ricardo - the man wasn't the sharpes tool in the shed but full of surprises, starting to read my english-language trekking guidebook whilst slip-sliding along the muddy road. All the more suprising since he had limited his vocab so far to (in order of decreasing frequency):
* "burro" (more like a cough)
* "¿manda?" (= I beg your pardon)
* "¡Que dios les page!" (instead of saying yes... always)



Sight most often seen during the latter part of the trek - burro's bum.



I'm beating the point to death, aren't I?



Finally standing above Ingapirca after 3 hours of downhill mudslide



We did go in to see the site - after much pleading (with hungry co-trekkers) and haggling (with ticket vendors) ;-) - and it was worth the time and money spent!



Lamas grazed next to the Inca stairs. The site was originally built by the Cañari culture and then taken over by Incas around 1500, to be abandoned only 30 years later!



Conquered!



More conquerors!



Bloody posers :-)



Something more akin to natural poses on top of the temple, looking back toward the path we had taken to come down.



The typical (roughly) trapezoidal doorways. the stonework was shoddy in parts, but excellent in other places, and we had the sneaking suspicion that the better parts were originals and the not-so-good ones inept patch-ups.

I was just too tired and we were in too much of a hurry to get to our respective destinations at the end to really spend more time on an "end of the trek" picture. I'm kind of regretting that now...

Trek to Ingapirca: 3 - Over the crest

After an unusually uncomfortable night - cold wet and with tents prone to collapsing - Day 2 dawned with a lot of walking on the agenda.




Ready to go, looking south along "our" valley to Las Tres Cruces.



Raz was so kind as to lend me his gaiters for walking through the dripping paramó - a real pants-saver, thanks man!



The valley stretched and strechted and never seemed to want to end.



When we found the Ingañan - old inca road - it was mostly a wide swathe of green through paramó tussock, occasionally with stones lying around.



The weather was promising as we crossed the ridge at the end of the valley, at which point we had to take a decision:

either continue upward and walk along the ridge of the mountain to our left,
then steeply back down to the next valley floor (plus: views, views, views;
drawbacks: wind, more climbing, steep descent)

OR

take the lower route along this valley floor (right on the picture) which
would spill into the next valley without too much in the way of steep
descent (plus: probably quicker, not having to go up, then down again, avoiding steep places with the burro; drawbacks: no views, pot very wet and marshy).

Ioana and I opted for the high road, and the guys with Ricardo and his burro for the low road. Meeting point was an old bridge in the next valley, a short way beyond the point where our paths would meet again anyway.



Who's laughing now?



Ah, I did see one large bird in the distance



Not sure what Ioana saw there, but maybe it's her Yeti impression.



Looking cool - literally



As windy and cold as the top of that ridge must be most of the time (we had a sunny day), these little buggers manage to flourish there.



Jumping for joy on top of the mountain. The trek's not really set out for great views along most of the way, so we were so happy to have come up and see the panorama (more on that later).



The beginning of the climb back down to the valley floor. It did take us 2 hours to reach our meeting point...



... which is to the bottom left of the picture (probably hidden behind the foreground), and another 1.5 hours to get to our campsite above the lake in the distance.



Filipe was right, in his comment to my previous post: our donkey was the only higher lifeform we met for most of the trip (a few riders excepted). There were few birds and one mouse in some Inca ruins as well as 2 or 3 horses and 2 donkeys after our climb down the ridge. No frogs, no nothing, even though the place couldn't possibly have been any wetter. Okay, so most of it was above 3800m AMSL, but the emptiness was noticeable.



Ahem, so team "Mountain Ridge" arrived at the meeting point 3 hours after having parted ways with team "Low Road". Much to our surprise, we didn't see anyone waiting for us there. So there were only 2 options: either they had kept going because they had gotten sick of waiting for us slow folks or they hadn't yet arrived because of some unforeseen problems. Neither of which was good.

Turns out they had gotten bogged down in marshy areas and the burro refused to cross the worst parts, for fear of getting too bogged down...



...but (as we learned later) after endless detours, losing sight of driver and donkey and finding them again purely by chance, we saw them making their way down from one valley (coming from the left) into ours on the opposite flank. If you look closely, you can see the specks - that's three people and one donkey.



Knackered.



A little less knackered but with wet feet.



We finally got to the campsite along the Inca ruins of Paredones and after another chilly meal (more instant noodles and frijoles for some), I decided to take a few more pictures, knowing I wouldn't be able to get to sleep at 8pm anyway.

The night was wet again, but this time we moved the stone the burro had been tied to out of reach of our tent, so that the worst it could do was make surprisingly loud chewing and regurgitating noises.

Trek to Ingapirca: 2 - Achupallas to first camp

Right, now for the trek proper: of course people in the village of Achupallas had assured us that it hadn't rained there for a while and that we'd be able to stay dry, at least until the final day.



Okay, so the dry part was true for the better part of the first 2 hours, while we climbed...



...past cultivated fields and livestock all around, watching us curiously.



That was the part I had the most trouble with: steep climb over the crest of a ridge and into our second valley, which we'd walk along for the better part of 5 hours. Must have been the lack of time at high altitudes, but I really was beat! Oh and of course a drizzle started up immediately we reached the crest.



Matthieu, who resolved to carry his own pack rather than chicken out like Ioana and I.



Resting and filling up on water as the clouds closed in all around. The sun was still coming through behind me there, so we weren't too worried



I don't know how many times we had to jump from tussock to tussock to cross marshy places or from one bank of a little stream to another.



Whilst we were moving, everything was fine - exertion kept the body temperature up and the drizzle was merely refreshing



We thought our shoes had seen a lot by the end of day one... ha!



The little stream ran to our left and luckily drained away a bit of the moisture that had accumulated in the paramó. We headed up the valley on the true left bank for about 2 hours before camping.



Our campsite, prettily illuminated by the late afternoon sun, that was soon to disappear behind the ridges...



...and left us feeling uncomfortably cool and longing for the instant soups we'd brought. Oh yep, bowls were in short supply, as was dishwashing liquid (yuck! - after two days washing in cold water)



Burro! he managed to pull our tent down, because the rope he was tethered to managed to stretch just far enough so he could stroll around our tent and use it to scythe a tentpole.



To bed at 7pm, to chilly sleep at 11pm, woken up by the bloody donkey at 1am and got up again at 7am.