An uphill-only 2-3 hour hike awaited us, and I cursed the early morning as I looked up at the mountain we were about to ascend.
Soon, however, I was overwhelmingly grateful for the early start, as I was working up quite a sweat even without the added hurdle of the midday sun. I had been sure that I would be the last one the whole way because of my asthma, but I was able to stay in the penultimate spot the whole way. James was a sweetheart and kept stopping to wait for me, but I urged him onward, as even with a somewhat lame foot, his tenacity and speed were impressive. At one point, I could see him taking a short cut about 100 meters above me, when he clambered onto a loose rock, sending it and a hail of small stones scattering beneath. He held on like a champ, but that was when I stopped watching. ;)
Finally, after only 2 hours and 15 minutes-- quite a good time, according to Julie-- our group gathered at the summit.
I admit, I felt quite proud upon looking down at the giant slab of rock and earth I had just scaled.
We then walked into Cabaconde, the closest town and hoovered the breakfast that awaited us. At that point, the mutiny began. Part of the tour involved stopping at a local hot springs, for which we would have to pay an additional entry fee, and none of us wanted to pay or to sit in hot water under the blistering noon sun. So after conspiring amongst ourselves and convincing the other groups with whom we were to share the bus home of the same, we approached Julie, who was more than happy to oblige us.
So our trip back to Arequipa consisted of a 3.5 hour drive broken up only by a stop at a lookout point for one more view of the canyon...
... where we were able to see several more condors in flight...
... and a comical impromptu bathroom break motivated by a solid traffic jam just outside of Arequipa. Basically, as soon as everyone on the bus realized that it might be quite some time until we were near an actual restroom, a mass exodus occurred, with the boys heading for some nearby rocks and the girls squatting in turns behind the biggest cactus I've ever seen. I'm not sure I have ever been so beloved as at the moment that I pulled a roll of toilet paper out of my bag and proffered it to the other ladies.
Eventually, we reached Arequipa, exchanged information with our fellow travelers, and James and I headed back to Wanyu River to wash the sweat and grime off of our smelly selves. After doing so, we ventured out for an early and truly exceptional dinner. I had a delicious ceviche, and James had Perus most infamous traditional dish: cuy, or guinea pig. Cuy is served with the full body still intact, including the head, arms, and legs, and I reacted-- through laughter-- but still, so egregiously disgusted that the waiter actually came over to ask if we wanted him to take the head away. I of course said no, that I was fine. I can only say that I have eaten fish with the head and bones on the plate; I have seen pigs roasted on spits, etc. But I have never before eaten a type of animal that I had previously owned as a pet, and the look on the guinea pig's face is one of such outright horror and pain as to cause some degree of revulsion. Also, when cooked, cuy doesn't look like guinea pig; it looks like rat, which is enough to turn any New Yorker's stomach. Anyway, I did eventually suck it up and have a bite or two, and it was quite tasty, but that will certainly be my last sampling of guinea pig.
Next, on to Puno!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Colca Canyon, Peru
No comments:
Post a Comment