Huaraz

We just got back from a perfect weekend in Huaraz, a town located at the foot of the Cordillera Blanca, a major mountain range in the Andes.

Our perfect weekend didn't get off to a perfect start. Let's discuss the not-so-perfect things first. We got in the taxi to go to the train station and were halfway there when I realized that I forgot my ID. So we came back to the apartment so I could grab it. Then we got to the train station and realized that we forgot our bus tickets. Luckily they were able to re-print them for us for a small fee. Then we sat on an overnight bus for 8 hours. Jeff was too hot to sleep, and I was too cold to sleep. And our seats were right in front of the bathroom. The bathroom has signs all over saying the toilet is actually just a urinal, so if you have to do #2 you are supposed to ask the bus driver to stop somewhere for you to go. Of course no one wants to do that, so they just use the bathroom anyway. It stunk worse than anything I've ever smelled for the last 2 hours of the trip. And on top of it all we learned that altitude sickness is a very real problem! We spent the first day with terrible headaches, dizziness and painful lungs.

Luckily the rest of our trip more than compensated for all of the things that weren't so great. We spent the first day resting and walking around the town. Huaraz attracts a lot of tourists, but mostly backpackers, so it doesn't contribute much to the wealth of the town. It isn't much to look at on the outside, but the people were incredibly friendly and interesting. And we saw and llama and two sheep, one with the wool on its head died bright reddish pink for Semana Santa, wandering through the town. We also saw a woman walking her pig. I kept envisioning myself as a teenager saying, "Mom, can I hang out with my friends?" "Not until you walk the pig, dear." How cool would that be?

The second day, once our bodies were a little more adjusted to the altitude (the town sits at 3090 meters, or above 9,000 feet above sea level), we visited the two lagunas Llanganuco, or Chinacocha in Quechua. I've posted a few pictures, and there are more on our web album, but unfortunately it was cloudy, so the pictures don't really show off the colors. There are two main lagunas, a male and female, with a small one in the middle, which is considered their offspring. The female laguna is a beautiful green color. You can sort of see in the pictures the beautiful orange tinted trees around it. The contrast of colors was amazing!

After visiting the lagunas, we hiked through a lush, green valley to some nearby waterfalls. Everywhere we looked there were cows grazing ... which resulted in a lot of cow pies that we had to avoid. Our guide was wonderful and Jeff had a great time talking to her about the local culture. Carolyn had a great time trying to understand what they were talking about, then giving up and just enjoying the scenery instead.

To get to and from our hiking spot we had to drive for about 2 hours through the countryside. It was unbelievable to see the little pueblos with all of the women in their bright, traditional dress. They have terraced most of the surrounding mountains in order to grow crops. I felt like were standing in the middle of an intricate patchwork quilt of nature. Once again, the clouds muted the brilliant green in the pictures, but you can still get and idea of what it was like.

On Saturday we opted for a little more of a challenge. We didn't know that we were doing that at the time. We ended up on a 16 km (8 km each way) hike almost straight up a mountain to visit Laguna Churup. The lake sits at an altitude of about 4,500 meters (around 13,000 feet). The altitude combined with our less than ideal physical shape made for a gruelling adventure, but it was worth every minute. At the top of the mountain we could look down and see the entire valley with all of the terraced hills and the river running through it. There was a giant waterfall coming down from the lake that we followed for the whole hike. At the very top was the lake. The sun came out for about 2 minutes, and I was able to snap one picture that shows the colors of the lake pretty well. Then our camera battery died! This was the saddest moment of my life, and it became even more sad as the day went on. Our guide brought his 8 year old son, Jong. He was amazing! Jeff and I had to rest more times than we can count, but Jong hiked up the whole mountain pretty much without stopping. He would run up ahead, then while we were resting he would come back and meet us, then run up ahead again. Jeff nicknamed him "El Loco," and he thought that was pretty funny. At the end of the hike his dad showed him the map of where we had hiked and he responded, "So little?"

Side note on our guide: his name is Johnny and he was wonderful! He talked to us about how drugs are becoming very common in their town among young people and how bad it has been for them. Many of the travel agencies set their guides up with drugs because it is so common among U.S. and European backpackers. Infact, both our guides told us that many of the Peruvian guides get hooked on drugs because the U.S. and European travelers introduce them to it. Johnny said that the reason he decided to work for the agency that we used was because the owner is a really honest man who isn't involved with any of that. Johnny runs a bicycle club to help keep kids away from drugs. He said that kids always look up to really athletic people, so he started this club so that kids could be active and look up to someone like him who doesn't use drugs. Jeff asked if he had sponsors for his club. He doesn't and said that he was interested in finding out how he could get some. Jeff told him that if he made some materials about it, he could translate it into english so he could approach some companies. Does anyone have any other ideas? We'd be interested to hear any so that we can let him know.

After the hike we felt like we were going to die. We (by we I mean Jeff) had signed us up for a 15 km bike ride down the mountain. I have had an incredible fear of riding bikes since I broke my arm on one 16 years ago. Infact, I think I have only ridden a bike once since then, not including riding in circles in my driveway in Canada. We were tempted to forego the bike ride, but decided that we might as well try since we probably won't ever have the chance again. Am I ever glad that we did! The next two hours were two of the best, most beautiful hours I have ever had in my whole life. I kept thinking, "If only my friends from high school could see me now!" Except that I wouldn't really want them to see me because they are all very good at outdoorsey things and I didn't even know how to change gears on the bike so I rode in the same gear the whole time ... kind of embarrassing. Still, I would have given all the money in my bank account to have a working camera at that moment (which isn't a lot, but still more than most cameras are worth).

We followed a road down the mountain through several little pueblos, once again with people in their traditional clothing and kids working and playing in the gardens. Several times we had to ride through herds of cows, donkeys, sheep and pigs as people guided them down the road. There was a little stream that followed the road, running through the long green grass. Everywhere we looked was the most beautiful green I've ever seen. The beauty brought tears to my eyes. I can't describe in words how beautiful it was because I would need words a thousand times stronger than exquisite, magnificent and breathtaking.

We finally stopped at some pre-incan ruins and took a tour, but we were so exhausted that we didn't stay long. We had already checked out of the hostal before the hike, so we didn't have a room to go back to. Thankfully the owner of the agency that arranged our hikes invited us to come by in the evening for some pisco sours. Pisco sour is the national drink of Peru. It is made with lime juice, some sort of sugary syrup, egg white and pisco, an alcoholic drink native to Peru (though the Peruvians and Chileans have been fighting over who makes the best pisco for years). We thanked him kindly, but told him that we don't drink alcohol ... so he invited us for just sours. That evening we spent an hour or so hanging out at the agency, drinking sours (which were surprisingly delicious) and talking with a couple of other groups of hikers from Lima, France and Portugal.

We returned home on another hot, stinky overnight bus with great memories. In case anyone that reads this is planning a trip to Huaraz, we would highly recommend the hostal we stayed at as well as the travel agency. They are right around the corner from each other, which made things much easier!

Hostal: Churup Albergue, http://www2.blogger.com/www.churup.com

Travel agency: Huascaran, http://www.huascaran-peru.com/