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Colca Canyon, Peru

I wanted a traditional South American home stay. My goodness me, I got it. Unlike Livichuco home stay in Bolivia that was touristy, Raqchi is the real deal. We were guests of the local families in their traditional houses. Since 2005, 22 families have been hosting people in their houses. Some of the families had children. Thankfully our large group (2trucks driving parallel to Lima, 21people) were split into groups of 4 so each family could host us in their Peruvian house. Ambrosia and Herberto, our “Peruvian Mamma and Pappa” collected us from the truck. They pushed a wheelbarrow with our belongings up the narrow alleyway with dirt streets into their mud home. For lunch they cooked us a pea and bean salad, quinoa soup and alpaca steak. There are 25 varieties of quinoa grown in Peru. At only a few bucks a kilo, quinoa is used in everything. Dinner was as extravagant but what made it was ambrosia was my mamma, allowing me to help cook. As she spoke no English, a translator explained on my behalf “I’ll need all the help I can get in my new role as a wife”. She laughed and taught me a new way of cutting one of the 4,200 varieties of Peruvian potatoes. The “cooktop” was a clay box with a fire underneath, a far stretch from what we (Dave) are used to at home.
Apart from the massive amounts of food we consumed, Raqchi has the largest Inca temple in the Andean territory and 10m circular store grainery huts used to support the Inca population for up to 5 years, in times of natural disasters. Although built in 1532, they are very sturdy structures, built using a seismic system. These large structures wouldn’t have withheld the elements if they were built by the INCApables (aka, the Spanish). The main source of income for this village is farming and pottery. A pottery demonstration proved to be interesting. With only 3 hours sleep from the night out before we were all a little worse for wear but soon got in the mood when our host mamma gave us traditional clothes to wear for the evenings entertainment. Dave, along with all the males, wore a colourful poncho and woolly hats with long ears and tails. The females wore pleated skirts, woven jackets, colourful alpaca scarfs, a blanket shoulder bag and of course their very cool flat hats that proved to be useful shelter when it rained. The ceremony we attended was a replica of the one the Andean people have every August. Holding 3 coca leaves in each hand, we blew on them and made a wish for safe travels and good health, followed by dipping the coca leaves in beer with flowers. These flowers, the beer and coca leaves are then buried for a sacrifice. As far as traditional home stays and local interactions go, this one hit the nail on the surface, or whatever that saying is.

What would you need to make condor spotting exciting? Some condors and a passionate, expressive local guide. Although the Colca Canyon, located in the Andes is 500,000 to 1 million year’s old, it was only really discovered 20 years ago when a Polish writer published a book on a white water rafting in the canyon. The author guessed the depth. He was out by 1,000m but it put the canyon on the tourist route, making it Peru’s third most visited attraction. It was only last year it was accurately measured and it’s the deepest in the world, at 4,160m deep. For a comparison, the Grand Canyon is 1,900m and twice the length.

Everything in Peru is big, the mountains, the canyons, the deserts. But I tell you who lucked out, the people. I’m short but by golly they are shorter. Most of them are tuckable under my arm. Indigenous people in this area, the Collawas and the Cabanas, can be differentiated by their traditional clothing and face shape. Prior to the Spanish invading and stopping this act, these indigenous folk used to shape their faces based on which volcano they worshiped (as you do…). The Collawas made a long and thin wooden mould to stretch their baby’s faces into the ‘long and thin’ volcano. Whereas the Cabanas worshiped the ‘short and fat’ volcano, so you guessed what their mould looked like. Mid way through my thoughts, our guide answered the question we were all thinking.. What would their kids look like if they were mixed? Triangles of course, because no one wins in a compromise!
There was one good thing that came from the Spaniards invading (apart from every town in Peru now having a Spanish style plaza, town hall and grid system but no Incas, they killed them).That is their outfits. The indigenous ladies liked the Spanish ladies dresses, jackets and hats. Except the Spanish had silk and the indigenous preferred alpaca material with embroidery, so they altered it to make it their own. To this day, this is what they wear. At least the cheeky Spaniards were good for something.
Anyway, back to the reason we were there. The Condors, second biggest bird in the world with a wing span of 3.80m. They are fond of this particular part of the valley because they soar using the thermals of warm air rising from the canyon, without any effort. Kinda acting like an elevator to get higher. Our leaders say on average tourists normally see two or three condors at any one time – we saw 22 soaring the sky. After an hour of watching them effortlessly gliding, our attention was out and shopping replaced it. Just at the crux of an important business deal (moon stone necklace from Nazca and a mineral from Colca Canyon) 22 condors came out of the valley and flew over us. You know the moral of this story is to shop, shop, shop. Bolivia and Peru are so cheap but let’s hope our luggage allowance is as cheap. One last thing on condors, I promise. When they get to the ripe old age of about 80 and their time is ready to end, they commit suicide. There are a number of theories as to why they fly directly up to altitudes of 6,500m and fall from the sky. Some include, the altitude is higher than they can handle, they don’t want to die of natural causes or they are without their significant other so they fly up that high and dive down hitting the ground with a splat. On that note, following the condor spotting, not splatting, we had a yummy buffet lunch although the still ‘furry’ guinea pig was just a bit too hard to pretend it was chicken. Plus, the teeth and little paws poking off the side of the plate didn’t help.

On the drive to Arequipa we were at over 4,900m and saw three active volcanoes spitting out ash (Volcanic ash, not our friend Ash). It was only yesterday one of them was spitting rocks, but that was yesterday so we’re “all good”. Speaking of good, there is one thing I like about group travel and one thing I don’t. I like travel more than life itself but the group part, not too much. Groups are like an Allan’s Party Mix bag of lollies.The yummy milk bottles you always pick first, by the end you’re left with the awful black jelly beans that you can’t get rid of. Those black jelly beans have been a bit nasty at times which has left me a bit sad. With only two weeks of our adventures to go, and an encouraging email from family, I chose to just smile and enjoy/ignore it. The other option was chucking the black jelly beans out the truck window. Thankfully we are travelling along side another Dragoman truck, that is full of wonderful milk bottles. To start this positive week, we opted for a Virtual Sunday over sightseeing in Arequipa. After a 2 hour leisurely breakfast in the sun, the ‘milk bottles’ (Dave, Davo, Davie, Ash, Heather, Yasmin and I) walked through the beautiful town of Arequipa to the supermarket and did our cook group shopping for the following few days… Who am I kidding? Dave sent me to shop for our afternoon picnic while he shopped for the groups food.
The hotel we were staying in was flash as bro! We sat under the the huge willow-like trees on the grass, sprawled out on deck chairs eating an antipasto spread fit for a king and drinking an esky full of white sangria – oh yea! The afternoon couldn’t be better. But it was. I met Rhian’s little girl on Skype. Had cake and coffee with the girls. Went out for a flash as dinner with the ‘milk bottles’ to a flash as restaurant. The owner of the restau
rant treated us to liquid nitrogen Pisco Sours (Pisco Sours is a Peruvian cocktail) as dessert. We were happy with the garlic bread starter but when he bought out a gas bottle, a foam gun and a pot we had already started oooohhiing and ahhhhhhing. Once complete, he put this ice looking scoop onto a ceramic spoon. If we placed the ice on the back of our tongue and breathed out, smoke came out of our mouths like a dragon. If you put it on the front of your tongue, the minus 186 degree ice hurt like hell – not that’d I’d know…

Today we drove eight hours, travelling from 2,500m down to SEA LEVEL, 0m.a.s.l No more altitude sickness! Today marks 51 days since we were last at the ocean. We have travelled from one side of the continent, the Brazilian coastline on the Atlantic Ocean, to the other, the Peruvian Coastline on the Pacific Ocean. The moment we drove through the barren sandy mountains and spotted the coast reminded us so much of Namibia. Coastline on one side and sand dunes on the other. Our campsite that night was smack bang on the ocean. The huge waves crashed through the night only metres from our head. I was on the boys cook group and it was a given that our one night with an open fire was going to be given to the boys + me to cook that night. Dave was like a kid in a candy store lighting the fire with our cool co-leader Steve. However, the girls nearly fell over backward when Steve asked for a tampon (unused) to light the fire. Sure enough, it makes for a good fire starter – and now you know. Garlic bread, sausages, hamburgers and marshmallows on the fire next to the the ocean, sipping my shandy. It’s good to be back camping!

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