At 6am we stopped for breakfast in the town of Chivay and began to get acquainted with two German members of our group, Lydia and Udith, a pediatrician and marine-biologist, respectively.
Immediately thereafter, we jumped back on the bus for another 45-minute ride to Cruz del Condor, where we were fortunate enough to see two of the magnificent titular birds perched on one of the numerous out-croppings below.
The bus then dropped us along the side of an unremarkable stretch of road to wait for one more member of our group. James decided to wile away the time by building his own version of the omnipresent stone statues in Peru.
At long last, our final group member, Johan from France, arrived, and we were able to start our trek. James, Lydia, our guide Julie, and Udith struck a pose as we set out.
Our journey took us down winding paths into the verdant heart of the canyon.
Along the way, local canyon dwellers often passed by us with mules and donkeys, as no vehicles can navigate the treacherous paths into the depths.
After a beautiful but strenuous two hours' descent along slippery dusty paths which had my knees aching somewhat terribly and on which 4 out of 6 of us had fallen onto our asses at least once, we reached the bottom of the canyon and crossed a small bridge to the other side.
But not before taking a brief rest. Julie, who navigates this trail 6-7 times each week, of course showed no sign of fatigue and called out to us brightly, "Vamos, my friends!", as she would so often over the two-day tour.
After crossing the bridge and mounting a steep 100-meter incline, we followed a largely lateral path through the local farmlands.
Along the way, Julie plucked fruit from the plants and trees for us to try. Watching a 4'11" girl use a stick nearly twice her size to knock a fig from it's branch high above proved extremely amusing.
Over the course of the trip, we tried lucuma, figs, and tuna (the fruit, not the fish), and had our faces smeared with the juice of a cactus spore which is used in lipsticks. A giggling Julie painted football stripes across most of our faces, but the placid and seemingly all-knowing Martin was given a Hindu-like forehead marking instead.
We arrived at our idyllic lunch spot shortly thereafter.
Where we met our trail doggie, a stray who would end up following us for most of the remainder of our trek.
Then it was back into the canyon for another hour's journey to the oasis where we would spend the night.
Just before we reached the oasis, we crossed yet another gorgeous bridge back over to the side of the canyon on which we had started.
Our trail dog waited patiently while we took photos.
Thankfully we reached the oasis before sunset and with enough time for a refreshing and much-deserved swim before dinner. James dove in immediately without even waiting for Julie to finish explaining about our accommodations.
Our bungalow were lovely and simple, made of a local bamboo-like tree, with outdoor showers and toilet stalls nearby.
As the sun slid behind the mountains, we sat on the rock into which the swimming pool was built and had a few Arequipenas, the local beer.
After the sun went down and we had each taken our turns showering with freezing water, we moved to the outdoor dining area, which was illuminated by candles due to the complete lack of electricity in the canyon. In this rather romantic setting, our group had an excellent dinner of quinoa soup and pasta, followed, as always, by mate de coca tea. James, who Martin said looked like and had the name of a stereotypical upscale British butler, helped Julie serve. Then following a fascinating discussion about how Americans can't party as hard as Europeans, according to the latter anyway, James navigated our way back to our bungalow by the light of his torch. Exhausted from our day's efforts, we fell asleep immediately.
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Location:Colca Canyon, Peru
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