Peruvian taxis. I have already written about the terrifying manor in which most Peruvians drive but yesterday I had an experience that was truly unique to the mountain lands. I was in a cab on my way to town, no big deal, right? It was one of the nicest cabs in the valley, a shiny red Toyota Yaris. Fancy! The thing even had working seat belts!
There we were just putting along behind a few cows that some lady was taking for a walk down the street. Since the hind end of a cow doesn´t offer much of a view, I zoned out by looking out my window. There was a huge THUMP and I was startled back to reality. We had just struck one of the cows! With his mouth agape, the cab driver brought us to a bumpy halt. Clearly the Yaris had nothing on the mass of the cow as the beast barely turned her head to get a view of the tiny nuisance that had just hit her. The cow´s owner was much more upset than the beast herself. The woman yelled and chucked something at the cab as we continued down the dirt path. Unfortunately, in the end the cab didn´t fare as well as the cow. Final count: Cow:1 Cab:0. Lessons of the day: 1) watch where you walk your cow 2)open your eyes as you drive your car because there might just be a HUGE animal in the road that will cause massive damage to your car if you try to take it on.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Patience Amongst Other Things
Patience. Is. A. Virtue.
I am still in the process of determining the full necessity of said virtue. As it stands now, every day has been a test of mine. Peru is a country that is know for its lack of timeliness; things get done but in their own time. You may have an appointment that should take place at a certain time but here in Peru there are no real set beginnings. Thus far the only thing I have seen reach any semblance of punctuality is the END of my lessons. Forget when we begin, we will ALWAYS be ending precisely on the hour.
It is common knowledge that things in Peru often suffer unexplained delays and cancellations. There are regular strike days when trains, buses, bridges, roads or anything one might consider a necessity for travel will be out of commission. These strikes are so frequent that the locals are no longer bothered by the nuisances they are intended to create; most couldn´t tell you the purpose of the strike and say that those participating couldn´t either! But for the traveler or tourist these strikes can throw detrimental wrenches in plans. I have spent the better part of the past five days in limbo due to these circumstances. We (a few friends from high school and I) have been planning a trip to the Manu jungle, which is said to be one of the most pristine in the world and certainly the best in South America. 80% of the national reserve is basically untouched and is not open to the public. Whenever we finally are able to venture to the jungle we are supposed to be able to see jaguars and all sorts of flora and fauna not even shown in the Jungle Book!! Each time we thought we had the details of our trip dialed down and that we were set to go some of these Peruvian "circumstances" would pop up and the trip would be delayed or cancelled... It got to be an hourly ordeal that I would check my email to see if we were on or off for the next day. FINALLY! FINALLY we are set, paid and booked for an eight day jungle trek! We leave Tuesday and I am so excited! I am sure many updates will follow. Also I get to spend my birthday in the jungle this year! This could get interesting!
A few other things that have changed with me during the past few weeks. Whatever fashion skills I previously possessed were promptly checked at the base of the mountain. Each evening around 5 PM I don about 16 layers of clothing in an attempt to block out the Andian mountain´s bitter winter chill. I am more recognizable as a ball of yarn for I am generally covered head to toe in knit wear. Anything, anything to keep out the cold!! And for all you saying, "didn´t you know it was going to be winter when you went down there?" The answer is yes. Yes, of course I knew it was winter but this is the most appropriate time to travel here because it is also the dry season. I also knew that it would be beautiful and roughly 70 degrees during the day but pretty chilly at night. I just didn´t know that "night" began at 4:30 PM and lasted until 7:30 AM!
I am still in the process of determining the full necessity of said virtue. As it stands now, every day has been a test of mine. Peru is a country that is know for its lack of timeliness; things get done but in their own time. You may have an appointment that should take place at a certain time but here in Peru there are no real set beginnings. Thus far the only thing I have seen reach any semblance of punctuality is the END of my lessons. Forget when we begin, we will ALWAYS be ending precisely on the hour.
It is common knowledge that things in Peru often suffer unexplained delays and cancellations. There are regular strike days when trains, buses, bridges, roads or anything one might consider a necessity for travel will be out of commission. These strikes are so frequent that the locals are no longer bothered by the nuisances they are intended to create; most couldn´t tell you the purpose of the strike and say that those participating couldn´t either! But for the traveler or tourist these strikes can throw detrimental wrenches in plans. I have spent the better part of the past five days in limbo due to these circumstances. We (a few friends from high school and I) have been planning a trip to the Manu jungle, which is said to be one of the most pristine in the world and certainly the best in South America. 80% of the national reserve is basically untouched and is not open to the public. Whenever we finally are able to venture to the jungle we are supposed to be able to see jaguars and all sorts of flora and fauna not even shown in the Jungle Book!! Each time we thought we had the details of our trip dialed down and that we were set to go some of these Peruvian "circumstances" would pop up and the trip would be delayed or cancelled... It got to be an hourly ordeal that I would check my email to see if we were on or off for the next day. FINALLY! FINALLY we are set, paid and booked for an eight day jungle trek! We leave Tuesday and I am so excited! I am sure many updates will follow. Also I get to spend my birthday in the jungle this year! This could get interesting!
A few other things that have changed with me during the past few weeks. Whatever fashion skills I previously possessed were promptly checked at the base of the mountain. Each evening around 5 PM I don about 16 layers of clothing in an attempt to block out the Andian mountain´s bitter winter chill. I am more recognizable as a ball of yarn for I am generally covered head to toe in knit wear. Anything, anything to keep out the cold!! And for all you saying, "didn´t you know it was going to be winter when you went down there?" The answer is yes. Yes, of course I knew it was winter but this is the most appropriate time to travel here because it is also the dry season. I also knew that it would be beautiful and roughly 70 degrees during the day but pretty chilly at night. I just didn´t know that "night" began at 4:30 PM and lasted until 7:30 AM!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Mini Visual Update
Ok, I get the hint, I will be posting pictures very soonish. But for now, if you would like a better visual of where I am and where I will be living for the next month and a half then just look here:
http://www.chullpas.uhupi.com/
I currently reside in my own private bungalow here at the lovely Las Chullpas. I help Chalo (manager of the quaint bed and breakfast) with this and that around Las Chullpas in exchange for a quite reasonable rate for my accommodations. My days are generally filled with walks to the markets in Urubamba, lessons in natural medicine with Leonie (owner of Las Chullpas and an amazingly knowledgeable and experienced woman), the obligatory and very necessary Spanish lessons and general explorations of my surroundings. I have stories and much more exciting updates that will follow shortly but for now check out Las Chullpas and the beautiful (but FREEZING cold) place where I live.
http://www.chullpas.uhupi.com/
I currently reside in my own private bungalow here at the lovely Las Chullpas. I help Chalo (manager of the quaint bed and breakfast) with this and that around Las Chullpas in exchange for a quite reasonable rate for my accommodations. My days are generally filled with walks to the markets in Urubamba, lessons in natural medicine with Leonie (owner of Las Chullpas and an amazingly knowledgeable and experienced woman), the obligatory and very necessary Spanish lessons and general explorations of my surroundings. I have stories and much more exciting updates that will follow shortly but for now check out Las Chullpas and the beautiful (but FREEZING cold) place where I live.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Day 5 The Final Trekking Chapter
I thought of posting a new job on Craig's List today. I figured that Peru could probably use a few more adventure guides for stupid,
trusting, tourists to throw money at in hopes that they may be taken high into the frozen mountains, where the air is thin, and be given opportunity to defy death by clamoring up and down cliffs not even the bravest of llama would dare to attempt. No experience necessary. Come one, come all. Apparently, in Peru ANYONE can be a guide even if you have never seen a mountain...
Yesterday´s adventure left us we darn near done with the mountain. After a quick dip in the thermal baths and a phenomenal breakfast that would put your granny's to shame we were on our way home! Following five days of bathing with baby wipes, a hot shower couldn't have felt better!
trusting, tourists to throw money at in hopes that they may be taken high into the frozen mountains, where the air is thin, and be given opportunity to defy death by clamoring up and down cliffs not even the bravest of llama would dare to attempt. No experience necessary. Come one, come all. Apparently, in Peru ANYONE can be a guide even if you have never seen a mountain...
Yesterday´s adventure left us we darn near done with the mountain. After a quick dip in the thermal baths and a phenomenal breakfast that would put your granny's to shame we were on our way home! Following five days of bathing with baby wipes, a hot shower couldn't have felt better!
Day 4 The longest, short adventure I ever survived
Last night was quite possibly the worst night´s sleep in my history. The grumbles had seriously taken hold and I had become utterly
worthless... There was a tiny man inside my guts who kept yelling "which way´s out?" And my body´s response was, "any way you please, even if it means exploding through the belly button!" The altitude characteristically has negative effects on the GI tract so I was told that my body's response was "normal." Yeah, normal...it sure felt, normal...
Throughout the night the only constant was my firm grasp on my water bottle 1) because it was full of hot liquid and the container
provided a lovely source of heat even into the wee hours and 2) because about 3 minutes after I sipped the tea it contained, my stomach was provided with about 20 minutes of relief, which was long enough for me to fall asleep before the war in my guts erupted again. This was seriously the pits! This was like the most gnarly, body aching, gut wrenching flu but on top of that I was stuck in the literal middle of the mountain. Finally, around maybe 4 AM I lost it; I tore open the tent door and puked my guts out as I attempted to hold back the impending tears... Thankfully, I have met wonderful friends here who took care of me and made me as comfortable as humanly possible despite the disheartening situation.
Bright and early the sun came up and I met it with a glare- there would be no yoga this morning and definitely no breakfast! As far as moving was concerned, I wanted no part in it. I eventually managed to get my gear together but knew I needed to get down and soon. I couldn't wait for camp to get packed so Elias (a friend of Janine's and our guide for the trek), Katrina and I started on what I was told was to be at most a five hour day. It was going to be a simple two hour climb so we could get out of the valley and then a mellow three hours down, down, down to our last campsite. At this point I would have agreed to anything as long as it would allow me to feel better. We would walk for about 30 minutes and then take a quick break and then back to climbing. At one point, I looked down and saw the rocks dancing and the ground coming up to meet my feet with every step. Then I started to get dizzy... I muttered to Elias that I had to sit and about 8 steps later decided that a bit of ground covered in a smattering of llama poop was just as good as any place to lay to rest... Roughly 30 minutes later I awoke from my "nap" to hear the lovely, joyous voices of the Janines. Mama Janine opened her bag and sauced me up with a variety of herbal creams, salves, tinctures and pills all of which I gladly consumed. I think she even got me to drink some watered down sacred ashes of cow poop that were said to be able to heal anything. I was obviously game for anything, even poop. So, we trudged on... Eventually, Melatone met up with us and brought along a horse for me to ride for the rest of the day. He knew how poorly I was feeling and I appreciated his thoughtful gesture. Unfortunately, my pride stood in the way of me ever getting on the horse so I smiled, pretended to look lively and thanked him for his kindness. I had gotten myself into this mess and it was on my own two feet that I would get out.
For some reason beyond my comprehension, our "guide," Elias, allowed our group to separate. Any hiker knows this is never a good idea, let alone when you are hiking in the Andes in winter! However, in my crazy altitude affected brain my sole focus was to keep one foot moving in front of the next so I followed blindly. At some point, I realized that we were no longer on the trail and that we were now climbing, as in scrambling, up the side of one of the vast peaks. Incredibly frustrated, I reached my boiling point and yelled to Elias, "No mas arriba (no more up)!" He just stared at me blankly and then continued up. He eventually shouted over his shoulder that we were "close." Close?? Close to what? The moon? We sure as hell weren't close to camp! We reached the top and Elias sat me down next to a rock so I would be shielded from the wind, then leaving me with our day packs, he turned and headed off to see if he could "find the path." So I sat and waited... then began to cry. I sobbed for no reason, for all the reasons, I cried just because I needed to cry. Then terror struck! Where the heck did Elias go? What if he didn't come back? What if I was stuck up here on this mountain top? I was ill prepared for a night on a mount adjacent to an Andean snow peak and far too attached to all of my digits to part with them due to frostbite! Hell NO! I was not staying here and freezing to death just because my GUIDE got lost! Clearly, I had lost a fair amount of my ability to think rationally... I quickly planned my mountain exit strategy, grabbed the bags and headed out. A moment later, I found Elias who was excited to have once again "found the trail," I followed in silence... thrilled that my guide was able to "find" the trail. With each step down, the fog in my head cleared and I dare say I was
feeling like I could manage rational thoughts if the occasion arose. It wasn't long before I noticed Elias had developed a regular habit of pausing every ten minutes or so to look around and survey the scene. This wasn't the expected break where you "oooo" and "ahhh" at the mountains and surrounding beauty, no, this was what I suspect Hansel and Gretel looked like as they attempted to find their way home. I inquired as to precisely how many times Elias had done this trek. He replied that this was his third time but the first two they had taken alternate trails. Ohh, I see, so basically, you have NEVER done this trek... Great, I feel really safe now... When I proposed that we hang out on the trail and wait for the rest of the group my idea was quickly shot down. Sighing, I followed my all knowing guide... A short while later I wasn't all too surprised when we found ourselves in what one would call somewhat of a "controlled fall" down the face of a cliff. When Elias's "path" ran dead into a massive lake with no alternate passages, I snapped. The fog, discomfort, exhaustion and general insanity immediately fled my body. That was it! We were going back to the last house where Elias had asked for directions and I was leading us there!
Mind you, the sun had set loooooooonnnnng ago, leaving us to scramble back up the rock face by the light of the moon and our headlamps. Hours later we arrived at the house and were fortunately able to hire horses and a kind gentleman to lead us to the location of our camp. This was our final night and camp was to be in a small village that was well known in the area, I suppose that is only IF you know the area. Over ten hours after initially embarking on what was to be an easy, short day I rode into camp atop a lovely white pony. I couldn't help but laugh and thank everything that we had somehow survived.
(side note* the other half of our party had also gotten lost, fallen in a river and had only arrived at camp 15 minutes before we made our grand entrance atop our noble steads).
worthless... There was a tiny man inside my guts who kept yelling "which way´s out?" And my body´s response was, "any way you please, even if it means exploding through the belly button!" The altitude characteristically has negative effects on the GI tract so I was told that my body's response was "normal." Yeah, normal...it sure felt, normal...
Throughout the night the only constant was my firm grasp on my water bottle 1) because it was full of hot liquid and the container
provided a lovely source of heat even into the wee hours and 2) because about 3 minutes after I sipped the tea it contained, my stomach was provided with about 20 minutes of relief, which was long enough for me to fall asleep before the war in my guts erupted again. This was seriously the pits! This was like the most gnarly, body aching, gut wrenching flu but on top of that I was stuck in the literal middle of the mountain. Finally, around maybe 4 AM I lost it; I tore open the tent door and puked my guts out as I attempted to hold back the impending tears... Thankfully, I have met wonderful friends here who took care of me and made me as comfortable as humanly possible despite the disheartening situation.
Bright and early the sun came up and I met it with a glare- there would be no yoga this morning and definitely no breakfast! As far as moving was concerned, I wanted no part in it. I eventually managed to get my gear together but knew I needed to get down and soon. I couldn't wait for camp to get packed so Elias (a friend of Janine's and our guide for the trek), Katrina and I started on what I was told was to be at most a five hour day. It was going to be a simple two hour climb so we could get out of the valley and then a mellow three hours down, down, down to our last campsite. At this point I would have agreed to anything as long as it would allow me to feel better. We would walk for about 30 minutes and then take a quick break and then back to climbing. At one point, I looked down and saw the rocks dancing and the ground coming up to meet my feet with every step. Then I started to get dizzy... I muttered to Elias that I had to sit and about 8 steps later decided that a bit of ground covered in a smattering of llama poop was just as good as any place to lay to rest... Roughly 30 minutes later I awoke from my "nap" to hear the lovely, joyous voices of the Janines. Mama Janine opened her bag and sauced me up with a variety of herbal creams, salves, tinctures and pills all of which I gladly consumed. I think she even got me to drink some watered down sacred ashes of cow poop that were said to be able to heal anything. I was obviously game for anything, even poop. So, we trudged on... Eventually, Melatone met up with us and brought along a horse for me to ride for the rest of the day. He knew how poorly I was feeling and I appreciated his thoughtful gesture. Unfortunately, my pride stood in the way of me ever getting on the horse so I smiled, pretended to look lively and thanked him for his kindness. I had gotten myself into this mess and it was on my own two feet that I would get out.
For some reason beyond my comprehension, our "guide," Elias, allowed our group to separate. Any hiker knows this is never a good idea, let alone when you are hiking in the Andes in winter! However, in my crazy altitude affected brain my sole focus was to keep one foot moving in front of the next so I followed blindly. At some point, I realized that we were no longer on the trail and that we were now climbing, as in scrambling, up the side of one of the vast peaks. Incredibly frustrated, I reached my boiling point and yelled to Elias, "No mas arriba (no more up)!" He just stared at me blankly and then continued up. He eventually shouted over his shoulder that we were "close." Close?? Close to what? The moon? We sure as hell weren't close to camp! We reached the top and Elias sat me down next to a rock so I would be shielded from the wind, then leaving me with our day packs, he turned and headed off to see if he could "find the path." So I sat and waited... then began to cry. I sobbed for no reason, for all the reasons, I cried just because I needed to cry. Then terror struck! Where the heck did Elias go? What if he didn't come back? What if I was stuck up here on this mountain top? I was ill prepared for a night on a mount adjacent to an Andean snow peak and far too attached to all of my digits to part with them due to frostbite! Hell NO! I was not staying here and freezing to death just because my GUIDE got lost! Clearly, I had lost a fair amount of my ability to think rationally... I quickly planned my mountain exit strategy, grabbed the bags and headed out. A moment later, I found Elias who was excited to have once again "found the trail," I followed in silence... thrilled that my guide was able to "find" the trail. With each step down, the fog in my head cleared and I dare say I was
feeling like I could manage rational thoughts if the occasion arose. It wasn't long before I noticed Elias had developed a regular habit of pausing every ten minutes or so to look around and survey the scene. This wasn't the expected break where you "oooo" and "ahhh" at the mountains and surrounding beauty, no, this was what I suspect Hansel and Gretel looked like as they attempted to find their way home. I inquired as to precisely how many times Elias had done this trek. He replied that this was his third time but the first two they had taken alternate trails. Ohh, I see, so basically, you have NEVER done this trek... Great, I feel really safe now... When I proposed that we hang out on the trail and wait for the rest of the group my idea was quickly shot down. Sighing, I followed my all knowing guide... A short while later I wasn't all too surprised when we found ourselves in what one would call somewhat of a "controlled fall" down the face of a cliff. When Elias's "path" ran dead into a massive lake with no alternate passages, I snapped. The fog, discomfort, exhaustion and general insanity immediately fled my body. That was it! We were going back to the last house where Elias had asked for directions and I was leading us there!
Mind you, the sun had set loooooooonnnnng ago, leaving us to scramble back up the rock face by the light of the moon and our headlamps. Hours later we arrived at the house and were fortunately able to hire horses and a kind gentleman to lead us to the location of our camp. This was our final night and camp was to be in a small village that was well known in the area, I suppose that is only IF you know the area. Over ten hours after initially embarking on what was to be an easy, short day I rode into camp atop a lovely white pony. I couldn't help but laugh and thank everything that we had somehow survived.
(side note* the other half of our party had also gotten lost, fallen in a river and had only arrived at camp 15 minutes before we made our grand entrance atop our noble steads).
Thursday, June 3, 2010
THE TREK - Ausangate Day 3
I slept like a princess in all my layers. That is until I was so rudely startled from my slumber by the crack and crash of what was unquestionably a particularly loud and angry sounding avalanch. I shot straight up in bed because in my hazy-dreamy state I was certain that there had just been a massive avalanch and we were now packed in the tent by an entire mountain of snow. I woke my tent mate to see if my fears would be supported by another's rational. When I inquired as to the origin of the sound I was informed that it was only the wind. Are you sure? I replied. But to this I only received the sarcastic response that it could possibly be bats... Clearly not satisfied with either explaination, I peered out the tent door and to my bewilderment found all well. Green bits of grass lay outside the tent, not a speck of snow in sight, all was just as I had left it a few hours ago. I'd soon find out that this was just the beginning of crazy...
The day was beautiful and the sights astounding but as we climbed higher and higher I found my breaths becoming shorter and shorter. With each gasping breath attempting to obtain adequate oxygen I promised myself, if I were ever to embark upon another high altitude adventure that I would certainly do a better job of training prior to the actual event. After we reached what seemed to be a never ending peak we were met by views that absolutely took what little air was left in my lungs. Ahead, stood a magestic red mountain, below a sparkling green and blue lagoon that beckoned us closer, in the distance were the snow peaks of the Andes and far back in the direction we had just come were the rolling green and gold hills so associated with these parts of Peru. After a quick 600 meter (to convert meters to feet multiply by 3.3) descent we took a few moments to enjoy a snack and throw rocks into the glassy lagoon. Then moments later we were trekking back up the other side of the valley. This killer ascent of a nearly 900 meter elevation increase seriously took it's toll on my poorly trained body. When I reached the top, two members of our group were already feasting on some sandwiches but hunger was the very last thing on my mind. I just laid there on the top of that mountain exhausted and gulping in whatever air I could manage at 5,300 meters. From this side of the valley, the views were equally astonishing but my focus was on getting down, down, down. Somewhere along the way to camp I developed a serious case of the grumbles. As you can imagine, it is mega bad news to get the grumbles while you are on the trail. Once we reached camp, it was all I could do to remove my boots before climbing into the tent. Dinner came and went, I showed up for a cracker and a bit of tea then it was back to bed for me. The best part of this wretched evening was snuggling with my metal water bottle that had been filled with boiling water. At least it would be a warm night.
The day was beautiful and the sights astounding but as we climbed higher and higher I found my breaths becoming shorter and shorter. With each gasping breath attempting to obtain adequate oxygen I promised myself, if I were ever to embark upon another high altitude adventure that I would certainly do a better job of training prior to the actual event. After we reached what seemed to be a never ending peak we were met by views that absolutely took what little air was left in my lungs. Ahead, stood a magestic red mountain, below a sparkling green and blue lagoon that beckoned us closer, in the distance were the snow peaks of the Andes and far back in the direction we had just come were the rolling green and gold hills so associated with these parts of Peru. After a quick 600 meter (to convert meters to feet multiply by 3.3) descent we took a few moments to enjoy a snack and throw rocks into the glassy lagoon. Then moments later we were trekking back up the other side of the valley. This killer ascent of a nearly 900 meter elevation increase seriously took it's toll on my poorly trained body. When I reached the top, two members of our group were already feasting on some sandwiches but hunger was the very last thing on my mind. I just laid there on the top of that mountain exhausted and gulping in whatever air I could manage at 5,300 meters. From this side of the valley, the views were equally astonishing but my focus was on getting down, down, down. Somewhere along the way to camp I developed a serious case of the grumbles. As you can imagine, it is mega bad news to get the grumbles while you are on the trail. Once we reached camp, it was all I could do to remove my boots before climbing into the tent. Dinner came and went, I showed up for a cracker and a bit of tea then it was back to bed for me. The best part of this wretched evening was snuggling with my metal water bottle that had been filled with boiling water. At least it would be a warm night.
THE TREK - Ausangate Day 2
Holy, coldest night ever! We weren't even that high but I couldn't manage to get warm. I kept envisioning Katrina´s unsocked feet and how miserable I would be if someone were to take away my layers of cozy wool socks. Wow, what a baby, right?
The morning consisted of what was now our daily ritual of consuming the lemons, followed by me leading the group in yoga (I truly apologize to all those REAL and LEGIT yoga instructors for my blasphemy) and then devouring a delicious, hot breakfast. Today's routine differed in that we also embarked upon another offering ceremony. The entire process was very similar to that which was lead by Maximo in Pachacamac but this time was directed by Janine (mom). Again, very interesting and I was grateful to be able to participate in something so vastly different than my culture's traditional ways of giving thanks.
Today's was was beautiful and full of numerous fantastic lagoons. I learned that during the time of Inca rule, they would use these huge pools as places to gaze at the stars without having to strain their necks as they gaped at the cosmos. Those Incas just thought of everything!
Our camp was incredibly close to the snow peak and throughout the evening we would hear tremendous cracks and booms of the continuous avalanches occurring on the Ausangate peak. Given our close proximity to the mountain, I imagined tonight's low temperature would probably trump the chill of last night so I layered up appropriately. I wore 2 pair of thermal pants, the ugly pajama pants I purchased in Pisac, neon-yellow snow pants (thanks Janine), 2 thermal shirts, a fleece, a down coat, 2 pair of wool socks, gloves and an alpaca hat! I was snug as a bug in a rug!
The morning consisted of what was now our daily ritual of consuming the lemons, followed by me leading the group in yoga (I truly apologize to all those REAL and LEGIT yoga instructors for my blasphemy) and then devouring a delicious, hot breakfast. Today's routine differed in that we also embarked upon another offering ceremony. The entire process was very similar to that which was lead by Maximo in Pachacamac but this time was directed by Janine (mom). Again, very interesting and I was grateful to be able to participate in something so vastly different than my culture's traditional ways of giving thanks.
Today's was was beautiful and full of numerous fantastic lagoons. I learned that during the time of Inca rule, they would use these huge pools as places to gaze at the stars without having to strain their necks as they gaped at the cosmos. Those Incas just thought of everything!
Our camp was incredibly close to the snow peak and throughout the evening we would hear tremendous cracks and booms of the continuous avalanches occurring on the Ausangate peak. Given our close proximity to the mountain, I imagined tonight's low temperature would probably trump the chill of last night so I layered up appropriately. I wore 2 pair of thermal pants, the ugly pajama pants I purchased in Pisac, neon-yellow snow pants (thanks Janine), 2 thermal shirts, a fleece, a down coat, 2 pair of wool socks, gloves and an alpaca hat! I was snug as a bug in a rug!
THE TREK - Ausangate Day 1
Hotel to taxi to bus to tiny town of Tinki- vegetable soup, hot tea and some sammies then off towards the hills.
We were being led by the shy beauty, Katrina. Her garb would put the best of hikers to shame. This cute, tiny chick cruised in the traditional attire of the Andian women; she wore 5 layers of alpaca skirts, 2 alpaca sweaters, wool tights, the traditional hat that signified she was married and naturally SANDLES. Obviously, traditional hiking attire. I kept looking from her to my friends and myself all decked out in our technical clothing and there she is WITHOUT socks! We asked if her feet got cold up around oh say 5,000 meters but she would only quietly reply that she wasn´t used to socks so, no she didn´t get cold... Wow!
Katrina is married to Melatone, who was our lead horseman and chef for the trek. The two of them along with their pal Luis, would set-up and break-down camp, prepare our delicious meals, pack and lead the horses and in general tend to our comfort for the duration of the trek. Now this defined five-star camping. I mean really, they even set up a poop tent for us! In all my camping days I never even knew a poop tent was an option!
This first day was supposed to be a very mellow walk, I was told I could wear hiking boots if I felt like it but they wouldn't be necessary. However, when the sudden rain was replaced with hail I rejoiced my proper choice of footwear but repeatedly scolded myself for donning a tiny cotton hoodie as opposed to a raincoat... Live and learn. After several hours tromping through what quickly became marshland, my ungloved fingers were so cold and frozen they quite resembled those of an arthritic old woman. Ah but all was not lost for when we arrived at camp not only were are tents set up, warm food on the way but there were also steaming thermal baths in which we were able to thaw our freezing bodies!
We were being led by the shy beauty, Katrina. Her garb would put the best of hikers to shame. This cute, tiny chick cruised in the traditional attire of the Andian women; she wore 5 layers of alpaca skirts, 2 alpaca sweaters, wool tights, the traditional hat that signified she was married and naturally SANDLES. Obviously, traditional hiking attire. I kept looking from her to my friends and myself all decked out in our technical clothing and there she is WITHOUT socks! We asked if her feet got cold up around oh say 5,000 meters but she would only quietly reply that she wasn´t used to socks so, no she didn´t get cold... Wow!
Katrina is married to Melatone, who was our lead horseman and chef for the trek. The two of them along with their pal Luis, would set-up and break-down camp, prepare our delicious meals, pack and lead the horses and in general tend to our comfort for the duration of the trek. Now this defined five-star camping. I mean really, they even set up a poop tent for us! In all my camping days I never even knew a poop tent was an option!
This first day was supposed to be a very mellow walk, I was told I could wear hiking boots if I felt like it but they wouldn't be necessary. However, when the sudden rain was replaced with hail I rejoiced my proper choice of footwear but repeatedly scolded myself for donning a tiny cotton hoodie as opposed to a raincoat... Live and learn. After several hours tromping through what quickly became marshland, my ungloved fingers were so cold and frozen they quite resembled those of an arthritic old woman. Ah but all was not lost for when we arrived at camp not only were are tents set up, warm food on the way but there were also steaming thermal baths in which we were able to thaw our freezing bodies!
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