A day in the mountains...
Trip Start
Oct 20, 2008
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10
20
Trip End
Dec 06, 2008
Cajamarca,
Peru
Monday, October 27, 2008
It´s funny the things you discover in this world. Like how to muffle the noise of explosive diarrhea with a pair of pants, at 4 o´clock in the morning.
Sorry for the graphic detail of some of these blogs, but if you are gonna experience the highs with me, then I might as well inform you of the lows too. Who knows, you may come here some day inspired by what I´ve written and I don´t want you to blame me if I haven´t given you all the facts.
Anyway bring Imodium is all I´m saying.
So after a thankfully uneventful Sunday where we all had time to split up a bit, write home and consolidate ourselves after the last weeks events. We made our way downstairs to El Zarco, an amazing find by Wojtek last night, and a very pleasant a cheap café/restaurant.
I fact we spent a lot of yesterday looking for a decent place to eat and all the time this place was right under our feet. Literally. In fact it´s part of the building that is the Hotel Peru.
Ewa was actually thinking of leaving Cajamarca early because it was rainy and cold sometimes and the food wasn´t so good, until we found this place, and I have to say it is a little haven away from the stresses of being so far from home.
Friend egg sandwiches for the Poles and jam sandwiches for me (let´s just say I was being cautious for the time being), and smiles all round. And then began the planning of the days festivities.
Originally the plan was to do all of the museums and churches in the city in a methodical, north to south order, finishing near the river for a slap up dinner at Siniorita Miggins´ pie shop.
However as we finished breakfast the rain stopped and the sun came creeping out behind the clouds. Cajamarca isn´t your predictable ´sun in the morning, rain in the afternoon´ tropical city. You will get sun and you will get rain on a daily basis, but there is no time table for these changes so just look out for the black clouds rolloçing over the mountains.
Today the sun came out after breakfast and we decided then that its was time to break in those mountain boots with a 20 km hike to Cambe Mayo. The guide says this takes four hours if you ask directions and take short cuts along the way.
If you are a Gringo with know idea which peak your heading for it could end up just an exhausting hike to vague destination unknown, which is pretty much what happened.
The first part of our quest took us through what must be one of the poorest parts of the city. The buildings were made of mud with vacant windows. Thin sheets the only barrier between the outside world and inside. Litter collected in small streams that cut there way down the hill directly into the mud.
Some steep stairs brought us up to a road that wound it´s way through this shanty town and after a while we were following it into the mountains. Every half an hour or so we got a slightly wider view of the Cajamarca; climbing 100-200 meters an hour.
Eventually the city slowly moved from sight as we headed north on a muddy track that meandered through sporadic hamlets and single farm houses, and everything was fine for about an hour and a half when we passed through a slightly bigger village where a group of five dogs took an instant dislike to us and surrounded us as we passed, barking and snapping until we were out of there territory.
For me, this wasn´t so bad. If you keep your head down and walk calmly passed and hold your arms close so they have nothing to nip, they won´t do you any harm. They just showing you who´s boss on this patch. The thing you don´t want to do is make sudden movements or run.
Unfortunately Ewa had a traumatic experience when she was young, involving a dog, and has been petrified of them since.
This initial experience rattled her a bit, and it was to be that all the way up the mountain, at every other house we came to, we were harassed by the local pack of hounds or worse, the ballsy lone wolfette.
At one point Ewa almost ripped my arm out of it´s socket as some sort of spaniel darted out of the bushes with no warning. A sneak attack worthy of any guerrilla warrior that even shocked me into jumping aside. Wojtek, he was just behind us on his own, so after we passed, he got all the attention.
In general though, they would start barking 50 meters from their house and stop 50 meters afterwards.
Being the only one confident that they wouldn´t harm us if we just walked steadily passed, I put myself between them and the Poles.
Ewa was so terrified by these moments that at one point we almost turned back. She stayed strong though and after a while, she said later, she got a bit used to it.
I was having my own problems. My boots were starting to rub.
We climbed through rocky valleys and were very pleased to see that the odd taxi or minibus was passing down the mountain, meaning that there was a good chance of a lift back. After 3 hours, at about 3100 meters the road was surrounded by eucalyptus like trees and the smell of menthol leaked into the air.
My skin was becoming pale with the thin oxygen, and trekking became increasingly tiring. We stopped for some biscuits and we were down to our last 500ml bottle of water.
Wojtek was steaming ahead. Me and Ewa were spent.
At this point we started asking locals which way to go, and how long. Each one comically said 1km, each one 1km apart. Either we were sataliting the Cambe Mayo or they just didn´t want to discourage us after doing so well.
I don´t think anyone has tried to walk this route in a long time.
Near the top we´d walked about 14 miles and risen 1000meters and been on the road for 4.30 hours. We saw what looked like a short cut, and pushed ourselves to the top of a muddy track only to end up in the loneliest part of nowhere, with no clue which way to go, and the only place to ask, a small farm guarded by a donkey.
That was it. We´d done well but were hopefully lost. A farmer driving cattle appeared from nowhere, and from the vacant look on his face, he had no idea where Cumba Mayo was either. His family had probably been there, since before it was even named.
We made our way back to the road exhausted and luckily a bus back to Cajamarca appeared as if by Gods will. Like an angel riding a chariot, except less gilt edged cloud with wheels and more dented ´Dihatsu´ with invincible suspension and sponge cake like seats, which are heaven when when you´ve got blisters on the back of your heels, as big as boiled eggs.
The journey back was pretty silent.
We got out of bus near the Cerro Santa Apolonia, and walked the streets back to the hotel, three abreast, like soldiers walking down their home street after a arduous tour in Nam.
We glugged down water and Pepsi like the western heathen we were, and went upstairs for a nap and a shower.
I ached like the pasty, unfit, pig-skinned bitch I was (and still am). Got half way through dinner and had to dash for the toilet again.
When I returned Wojtek had golloped my chicken and rice. I ordered a coffee, got half way through and true to form, nature screamed my name and I departed once more and Wojtek had my coffee too...
I need some branflakes soon before I turn inside out...
And so to bed.
Mum if you are reading this, send cereal.
