Month: May 2019

With the exception of Nazca, I knew virtually nothing about these places when I booked my bus trip with Peru Hop. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, the backpacker crowd knows where the fun is, and Peru Hop seems to cater almost exclusively to the younger set. With a few noted exceptions…

Originally I didn’t intend to stay in Nazca but I changed my mind last minute. Really happy that I did; the flight over the famous Nazca Lines was such a treat! The lines themselves are a  mystery although many believe they were drawn for the gods (they’re only fully visible from the air). The 14 that you see on the 30-minute flight are remarkably well preserved, being more than 2500 years old. I fear my own lines won’t hold up so well…

Huacachina’s claim to fame is that it is surrounded by sand dunes that you can climb, traverse by sand board or dune buggy or slide down. Once you’ve done any or all of these activities, the only thing left to do is drink. So drink they do. Huacachina is quite possibly the noisiest place I’ve ever been. Staying in a tent, the sound is amplified so that you just may want to slit your own throat by bedtime. Thankfully, the management is against mass suicide by the older crowd so they close the pool at 10 pm so as to avoid large teams of forensic investigators roaming the property and ruining the vibe.

Paracas was delightful. The 100 or so Peru Hoppers who showed up for the Ballestas Islands tour on my first morning there were sorely disappointed to find the tour cancelled due to rip tides. But safety comes first. Petra, a German woman who was also traveling solo, and I decided to explore the area on foot.

Petra was a bit of an enigma. She weighs about 90 pounds soaking wet, smokes like a chimney and would rather drink alcohol than eat. She is also a psychotherapist back in Germany, a picture I found hard to reconcile with the fireball who ignored the pleas of security guards to stop boulder-hopping at one point on our walk. But I digress…the walk was fabulous. We only turned around when we hit the nature reserve which is desert. At high noon, it was deadly hot and 10 kilometres was enough!

We toured the reserve in the afternoon aboard a bus. And the next morning, the sea had quieted down enough so that the Ballestas Islands tours were up and running again.

Finally, Petra and I hired a taxi to take us back to the nature reserve in the afternoon to see a couple of viewpoints that we didn’t see the day before. All in all, a great couple of days before my final stop in Peru, the massive city of Lima.

Three massive volcanoes, one of them (Misti) still active. This is my view from Alvaro’s huge apartment in Carmen Alto, the best in Arequipa!

It isn’t often when my accommodation is so beautiful that I hate to leave it. And Arequipa is considered one of the most beautiful cities in Peru. But Alvaro, his dog Rogelio and his enormous, welcoming home are as big an attraction for his fortunate guests as any I’ve seen since my arrival a few days ago.

Every morning he makes a different, delicious breakfast which we eat at the kitchen table, mouths agape at what we are seeing. We are surrounded by terraced farmland, cows and one sad donkey that brays occasionally, no doubt out of loneliness. Next door, people pay for this view. Mine is included.

Arequipa’s history is so varied and different from the rest of the country’s that I won’t even attempt to explain it. It lies between the Andes and the desert coastland, so it’s a lot hotter here than other places I’ve visited. The 4 km walk down to the old part of town is best done early morning; afternoons are to be spent with the dog near the pool!

And yet, the pull of the historic centre is strong. Yesterday, I trundled down to the centre to take a free walking tour of the city. Our host was hilarious and the tour off-beat. I met a young woman from Germany, and when the tour ended we decided to walk to La Capitana, the most famous and authentic picanteria in town. It was worth the effort; a huge plate of typical Peruvian food – and loads of choice for vegetarians! Since we had no idea how to order, the waitress took us right into the kitchen to see the massive vats of food. 

After lunch, Stephanie and I walked to the Yanahuara viewpoint. It features the volcanoes of course, but it doesn’t hold a candle to Alvaro’s kitchen. 

Steve and I are sitting on a bench outside of my hostel waiting for someone I’ve never met to take me somewhere I’ve never been before. Strange but that’s the nature of travel, isn’t it? Everything is an adventure. 

Take my room, for instance. I booked it online and it had great reviews. At first (and maybe second) glance, it’s a total dive. At 5:30 am it was scary. In daylight it’s better but not by much. But the staff is friendly and helpful, it’s clean and breakfast is good and I don’t ask for much more than that these days. 

Puno, like many foreign places, reveals itself slowly. What I thought was an ugly little town is quite the opposite. It was beautiful plazas and stunning churches and hard-working, friendly people. My hostel is in a great location between the harbour, the Plaza des Armes and a pedestrian area where you can find whatever you’re looking for. 

This afternoon I went to see an ancient burial site outside of the city. Las Chillpas de Sillustani date back to 200 BC. It is a stunning location, and it’s easy to see why three different civilizations chose to bury their dead there. Of course, if you were Inca and unlucky enough to be married to a leader when he passed away, you were killed and buried along with him as well as relatives, pets and other close associates. The only family members who were spared were children so that the line could continue. 

On the way back to Puno we stopped at a farm where some had their pictures taken with llamas and alpacas. The family makes and sells cheese along with woven items and other souvenirs. They also had a thriving community of guinea pigs which were destined to be killed and eaten at some point. They looked pretty happy today though, munching on greens in front of their two storey home. At least they’re treated well before the slaughter, unlike North American animals…

I stumble out of bed at 5 am in anticipation of our early morning paddle on Sandoval Lake. It is one of the few places in this area where it’s possible to see giant otters. Jhon our guide says there’s a family of six living here, but I’ve had no luck; when I’m on the lake, they are no-shows.

But the sun is shining, unlike the day of arrival. It was raining steadily by the time we reached Puerto Maldonado, a bustling town of about 70,000 on the edge of the Peruvian jungle. Fitting somehow for the 45-minute boat ride, followed by 3 km forest hike and finally, a paddle across Sandoval Lake in a canoe. By the time we reached the lodge I was soaked to the skin and the rubber boots they provided were covered in mud but no matter; I’m in the Amazon!

In place of giant otters, we are treated to one of the loudest, strangest sounds I’ve ever heard…male howler monkeys announcing their plans for the day to other rivals. At first I thought I was listening to highway noise. Rita from Edmonton thought it might be a generator. When male howlers face off, the loudest guy wins. It’s a sound you cannot ignore…more so apparently if you happen to be another howler monkey.

Other beings are quieter. Different types of herons (one of which catches fish by dropping flies into the water), a huge troop of tiny squirrel monkeys, lots of hoatzin or stinky birds, so called because they are ruminants and digest their food through fermentation. Tiny bats that look like leaves clinging to the lower parts of palm trees, hoping to fool a bug or two. Tanagers, cardinals, flycatchers, huge swarms of wasps and termite nests on every tree. We’ve seen four of the six species of monkeys on the lake. The squirrel monkeys are my favourite I think…so tiny and fast too. The trees shimmer with life as little bodies by the hundreds scurry about in search of food.

After breakfast on the first day, Jhon gave us a  Brazil nut demonstration. What’s so special about a Brazil nut that it needs a show? Lots, as it turns out. For one thing, they have three shells. They fall from the tree in a huge pod that contains up to 15 individual nuts. The outer shell isn’t too difficult to get off, but you either have to have a machete or be a rodent called an aguti to pry the middle shell apart. It takes a grown man with a machete about ten minutes to smash through the middle shell. The aguti are more patient, gnawing steadily on the pod with razor-like teeth. One wandered by while Jhon was explaining, its timing so good that I’m not convinced this wasn’t a setup. 

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Ours is the only echo lodge on this lake. There is a local family of five brothers who host day trippers, but the numbers are negligible so as not to have much impact on this special place. There is a small dock where you can swim, but after being up close and personal with black caymans, I won’t be jumping in. There are also eels, sting rays, piranha…several different types… and snakes. Big snakes. One of the guides has deep scars on his shoulder from a run-in with an anaconda twelve years ago. Swimming is not in my immediate future. 

And neither, apparently, is an otter sighting. Oh well,  maybe next time…

Machu Picchu is a wonder to behold, an architectural marvel nestled amidst the Andean peaks. The fact that it was built in the 1400s is simply astonishing. The Quechua were not sitting around in coffee shops staring at smart phones ten hours a day…

In the end, I.didn’t reach it on foot as planned. I was feeling apprehensive beforehand, and apprehension turned to mild dread when I learned I’d have to carry more weight than expected. I eliminated as much as I could but was still left with five kilos. On a flat surface, a piece of cake. But on the Inca Trail, an extra 11 pounds is huge.

It turned out to be absolutely the right decision. The eight-hour hike back on the second day was hot and tiring and I ended up with two huge blisters. And this was a walk in the park compared to what the rest of the team was facing. Five hours walking straight up with an 1100-metre gain in altitude…they don’t call it Dead Woman’s Pass for nothing.

Assistant guide Ever and I had a great day (our porter Victor decided to run). We talked of life and work and family. I helped him with his English and he laughed at my Spanish. We reached Ollantaytambo by late afternoon, and after an early dinner, I fell into bed, thankful that it wasn’t a tent and that I wasn’t walking for ten hours the next day.

I caught up with the group again two days later at the entrance to Machu Picchu, having taken the train from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes and a bus up from there. So we all made it, in our own way.