Saturday, 10 December 2011

Peru Part 2: Getting High

The highlands were calling: time to leave Nasca and take ourselves to some seriously high altitudes.

First stop: Chivay at around 5000m and the Colca Canyon. The former is a little village and small quinoa-farming community. To cope with the altitude here they chew coca leaves or drink coca tea. We had a bit of tea but one sip too many can keep you awake all night (after all, it is the plant from which cocaine is made and Coca-Cola was originally concocted using coca leaves until the company discovered caffeine.) So in true Amber & Imran style, we decided the best way to cope with any ill-effects of the altitude was to just throw ourselves at the mercy of the worst it had to offer and then we'd be fine: mountain biking around Chivay and the surrounding villages for several hours on our first morning seemed to fit the bill. And it was brilliant!




So many of our favourite holiday moments over the years seem to involve mountain biking (get us to trek on two legs and we'll moan for Britain but get us on two wheels and we're suddenly Coppi and Bartali.) At first our lungs burned as we tried to force ourselves up steep hills and couldn't quite catch deep enough breaths but we soon got used to it. We rode on serpentine paths around mountains and bounced down rocky steps through tiny neighbourhoods. And, as is my characteristic clumsy way, I did bound over a huge rock only to fly like a bird (Big Bird) then hit the ground with my bike landing on me a split second later, but it was done with such panache that I'd do it all again on purpose just to get it on camera. (Wishful thinking for those who hoped this might've knocked some sense into me as the bike only landed on my leg.) An hour in 39 degrees hot springs cleared up all bruises and we were ready for some more action the following day.

Colca Canyon is the deepest in the world at over 4000m (more than twice as deep as The Grand Canyon.) It's a pretty spectacular sight in its own right but most people visit here to see the condors, the national bird of Peru and the largest land bird in the world. It stands at a crazy 4ft tall with an almighty 10.5ft wingspan. We got lucky and saw quite a few thanks to good weather that morning but not overly close-up. Thank goodness for a zoom lense!




Every year the local people catch a condor and tie it to the back of a bull. With both animals frightened, the condor pecks violently at the bull so the bull runs around trying to get rid of the bird, making it peck even more. Eventually, the condor is untied and it flies to freedom. What's the purpose of this tradition? The people see the condor as representing themselves and the bull as a symbol of the Spanish, and, as we've learned from talking to a lot of local people, the South Americans don't have a lot of love for the conquerors of their continent and their old colonial masters. It's hardly surprising although it is a shame the bull and condor have to suffer for human behaviour!

After Colca we went to Arequipa or 'the White City,' so named because of the pearl-coloured volcanic rock used to make many of the buildings. It's certainly a very pretty city - quite possibly the prettiest in Peru. The cathedral in the main square is beautiful anyway but against the backdrop of El Misti volcano - a snow-capped volcano, at that - it looks even more impressive.




The national drink of Peru is the Pisco Sour: Pisco brandy, sugar syrup, lime juice and egg whites blitzed together with a drop of Angostorra Bitters. After having had a few too many of these one evening in Arequipa, Imran insisted it was our duty as British citizens to go to a karaoke bar and sing 'Regulate' (I've no idea what parts of a Japanese singing trend and an American rap song have to do with our national identity but still, he was adamant.) "Listen to that terrible racket!"** he said of the singing that was coming out from the windows. "We owe it to Arequipa to show them how it's done!" Hmm, I didn't realise an effect of the Pisco Sour was to make one forget how terrible his or her singing is. I'll leave it to you to decide whether we did or didn't walk into that bar that night!

Our next stop was Cusco where we stayed twice, nicely sandwiched around the Inca Trail. A lot of people say Cusco is far too touristy but we didn't think so. Yes, there are plenty of tourists as it's the usual starting and finishing place of the Inca Trail but we just found it so charming, attractive and traditionally Peruvian overall. Saying that, we were going to places like the local market where we didn't really see any other tourists. The market was fabulous (yes, I know I say that about every market!) but unfortunately we couldn't get any great pictures thanks to the famous Peruvian aversion to tourists' cameras. Suffice to say, I was buzzing from the mountains of different coloured corn cobs - cream, purple and black; stalls piled high with a rainbow variety of local fruit I'd never seen before, pyramids of lusciously scented dark chocolate blocks, and row after row of big bags filled with different types of quinoa, beans and flours. Imran, as you'd expect, was trailing along behind me saying: "You're so weird! This is boring. Can we go now?" Somebody please remind him of the reason he's fed so well at home! Once again, I lamented my lack of Spanish and the resultant inability to ask questions about all the amazing produce but hey-ho. Don't worry; be happy. I'm sure Albanian will come in handy somewhere sometime!

Just a quick mention about our last dinner in Cusco: we went to a restaurant called A Mi Manera and had a plate of fried potatoes. 'Chips?' you might be thinking. 'Whats the point in mentioning those?' The point is that they were the best fried potatoes we've ever eaten. Seriously. White potatoes, sweet potatoes and yucca; perfectly sized, perfectly shaped, perfectly cooked with the perfect outer crunch and perfect inner fluffiness. So perfect. So incredible. I don't have the vocabulary to describe to you how amazing they were but they just need to be mentioned here for the sake of all fried potatoes everywhere. Go to Cusco just to eat ten plates of these. You owe it to yourself. Did I mention they were perfect?

Our final destination in Peru was Puno and Lake Titicaca. To get here, however, we had a ten hour train journey to endure. It turns out 'endure' is entirely the wrong word to use and 'enjoy' is far more apt. We had come back from the Inca Trail to Cusco by train and been surprised at the random fashion show held down the aisles (the models being the same people who earlier checked our tickets and gave us drinks.) But little did we know, that was just the beginning of what trains in Peru have to offer.. especially if you've decided to treat yourself after the Trail to a little comfort and luxury.

The Andean Explorer goes through nearly 250 miles of spectacular scenery: Andean mountains and Plains, quinoa fields, valleys, the Huatanay River, eucalyptus groves, willow trees, gorges, canyons, and tiny traditional communities where kids leading a llama or an alpaca stop to wave at you. The train itself was reminiscent of the Orient Express with formal tables, waiters in fancy uniform and plush seating. There was a balcony or 'observation' carriage where we could just stand with the breeze flowing around us, watching the beautiful sights with uplifting Andean flutes in the background. This was thanks to the traditional band singing Andean folk songs. There was also a bartender in the bar carriage demonstrating the art of making Pisco Sours and later, a young girl dressed up in an outfit I can only describe to you as something a harlot in the 1920s Wild West would wear, swaying her hips provocatively to pipes and drum beats. Trying to keep her very large hat from falling off and being careful not to tear her very tight and very short bright pink and silver frilly dress, she started to pick guys to get up and dance with her. 'Ha ha!' I thought, when she began sashaying her way towards us. 'Imran's going to be chosen! Gotta get this on camera.' He looked rather afraid. "Remember our pact," I said with glee. "You can't say no!" Famous last words, eh? Maybe there's something about me that screams 'harlot of the noughties in alpaca clothing' but she thought it would be fun to grab my hand and lead me to centre stage instead. Still, no point in being inhibited once I was up there so I shook what my momma gave me as best I could. And I made sure she got Imran up immediately after me too! All credit to him, he shook what his mama gave him better than anyone else in that carriage. Hips like Ricky Martin. Luckily for both of us, we have no pictures - only film footage - and we 'don't know' how to put videos on the blog...ahem.




Puno is a very small town with not much to see or do. It reminded me a lot of India, what with the rickshaws, ramshackle buildings and people with a penchant for staring at you intently. You go to Puno to see Lake Titicaca: the highest navigable lake in the world, absolutely mahoosive (bigger than some European countries apparently!) and nearly 300m deep. It's a stunning sight made even better by the presence of Uros, the floating islands. A community of 3500 people, Uros is a series of homes built on reeds. It's quite amazing how they manage to have everything they need here to live and function perfectly despite not being on stable ground and floating in the middle of a lake. We saw the local kids rowing a boat to get to school - how cool is that? Talk about getting the kids to do some exercise. Makes a change from those awful Chelsea tractors.




But then, that's Peru, isn't it? It's a world away from England in every sense. We've not been to any other country which has as much character; so much common identity yet so much diversity. The history is intriguing and mysterious. The cuisine deserves a great deal more recognition in the global arena and the stunning landscapes just can't be emphasised enough. In all truthfulness, it's not somewhere we'd return because there's no need to see all those things again and the general population is not necessarily the most charming. It's a travellers' destination, not a holiday destination, and exhausting the country (as well as yourself!) once is enough. But that's what's so strangely great about Peru - you only need to see it the one time as it finds a way to etch itself permanently in your mind and memory as one of the most distinctive and compelling countries you'll ever visit.

** Obviously these are not the exact words Imran used but for purposes of decency I've changed a few.


2 comments:

  1. Pls bring back some wooly hats for the girls!! Looks warm...freezing over here. :(

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  2. re: picture of bird on train.....

    Am sure have seen that look in Cannock

    ReplyDelete