Week 19: A Horse With No Name

Mausoleums - bottom right of picture

Our "4 day trek" to Gran Vilaya was more like a "4 day excursion with 2 days of trekking in the middle", but that was absolutely fine by me. On the first day we had a brutal start. After a drive we arrived at some mausoleums, which were half an hour's walk down a steep hill to get to. Which of course meant walking back up. Nevertheless it was worth it. Before they were mausoleums the structures were houses for up to about 6 people, who, instead of building their homes near the river, carted water up the incredibly long and steep hill every day. Each to their own I suppose. Roger was our guide for the 4 days, also doing the trek were an American Joe, who I had walked the "pre-Hispanic trail" with (you may recall it ended rather messily) Matt and Gemma, a British couple, and along for the day were a Swede called Simon and a German called Annelise. We headed back to the nearby town for lunch (thankfully it wasn't chicken and rice) before going to see some sarcophagi in Karajia where we had an additional volunteer in our group - a local boy called Hector, who took a particular liking to myself and Annelise (I had to carry around the presents he gave me until we left). The sarcophagi were very interesting although we learned that there had been more but they were stolen.

Looted sarcophogi

In the minivan on the way to our next destination I tried coca leaves for the first time. In Peru, particularly in the areas of higher altitude it is common to chew them to help with fatigue and altitude sickness. I hadn't tried them before now because the smell of them pretty much repulsed me, but I decided to give them a go. Many people had told me "it's okay, they are sort of like tea" which is okay. If you like tea. Which you are probably aware I don't. I only drink infusions. Anyway I tried the coca leaves and actually gagged. But I persevered and chewed them for a while - they made my tongue and cheek go tingly which reminded me of the dentist (possibly my biggest fear) so I spat them out.

with our new friend Hector

Our first glimpse of the Belen Valley was from the top of the mountain pass. I don't think I have ever seen grass so green, it looked like a painting, or the Robin Williams film "What Dreams May Come". After a long drive down the mountainside we arrived at our lodging for the night - a sort of scout hut surrounded by cows. I could hardly believe we were staying in such a beautiful location, the river could be heard from the hut, we had a bench outside with an amazing view into the valley, and the whole time we were there only one other vehicle passed by.

The impossibly green Belen Valley 

After an explore of the river we sat around drinking some rum which Joe had conveniently brought with him, playing cards and having dinner (you guessed it - chicken and rice!) and talking about what felt like every topic under the sun.

Indie's new best friends

We all slept pretty soundly and I awoke before everyone the next morning to go and wash in the river. I am pretty sure our guide, Roger, saw me starkers.
After a breakfast of bread and jam we set off through the valley - I felt as if I was in some kind of dream from the film Inception because all the noises and colours were so vivid. 

Shoes off everybody!

Lovely weather on day 3

We had to wade through the river at one point which was very refreshing, and felt colder than it had in the early morning. Unfortunately the easy walk was not to last for long. Before lunch we had a bit of a climb, before beginning our exploration of "Gran Vilaya." This was where the real Indiana Jones work took place. These ruins were literally dotted in the jundle, grown over with creepers and eaten up by the forest. Most were pre-Inca but later used by the Incas also. We were all stung or bitten on our venture but none of us cared. It was incredible to see the way time had taken over the once imposing buildings. When we finally emerged from the jungle we started a knee shattering 900m descent to the pueblo of Congon. On arriving we all got a drink. I didn't fancy a beer so opted for something that looked suspiciously like an imitation of Inca Kola, the most popular soft drink in Peru - it is the colour of nuclear urine and tastes a bit like bubblegum. Personally I believe it was created as a resulted of Hiroshima. It was disgusting but at least it probably replaced some sugars in my body. When I say replaced, I don't mean replenished...

Enjoying a well earned beverage

For dinner we surprisingly didn't have chicken and rice, Matt and Gemma headed to bed and Joe and I played cards. (Irish snap... no prizes for guessing who won...). That night everyone was apparently kept awake by the barking dogs except for me. In the morning the 2 mules and 1 horse were waiting for us after breakfast, as that day's ascent was 1500m, and we could do with a helping hand.

A room with a view

Lush jungle greenery

We all started off on foot to warm ourselves up for the day, and after a few hours reached the beginning of the climb. After a while I decided to have a turn on the mule, as it was tipping it down and all a bit miserable. The last time I rode a horse I imagine I was probably about 9, so it has been a good many years. We asked the names of the animals, but they didn't have any. I named my mule Jessie, (after Jessie's Girl) and the other one was named although I can't remember what... but the horse never got a name. After about 20 minutes on the mule, I got off and refused to get back on. It isn't that I'm scared of riding, but I swear I saw the mule's leg physically buckle underneath me (fat lump), so I'm going to save the experience for another time. That's right, I decided I would rather walk up the top half of a 3300m mountain than take the mule. It was pretty hard work, and I would be lying if I said I didn't fall on my bum in the mud once or twice. 

Most welcome soup in the history of mankind

We stopped for lunch at an isolated shack - it was possibly the most welcome meal of the trip - we were all soaked to the skin and giving off steam in the hut. We had an excellent soup and fritters and beans for our main. In the afternoon we set off again and the weather was looking up. We walked on the flat for a while before one big final push up hill. When we reached the top, the mule guy turned around with the mules to take them back to village. (much to my dismay as I had been counting on taking them downhill). We had a short rest stop at the top ("the top") before continuing to climb gently for half an hour or so. 

Triumphant at the "top"

Matt confident on the horse... it didn't last long

Roger, our guide, was texting on his phone, so I decided to switch mine on, on the off-chance that I might have some signal (I had been waiting on a phone call.) About 10 minutes later I took my phone out of my pocket to see I had a text from my mum: "Baby boy 11.40 on Sunday 27th. Meg did very well. He is beautiful and BIG. Lots of love. Mum x." I am not ashamed to say that I read it, said "I have a nephew" to everybody, and promptly burst into tears. I had been an aunt for over 24 hours and hadn't even known it. It was pretty incredible getting that message at above 3000m, in the middle of the Andes in Peru. I got Gemma to take a picture of me to remember the moment, but I won't upload it because my face is a bit red and puffy and generally unattractive. I had some celebratory oreos before we ascended to the pueblo Maria where we would be spending the night, and once we reached the accomodation I rang my mum briefly, who told me my little nephew had been named Ifor Huw Charles Noall (strong welsh name)

Whilst I was on the phone, the absolute terror that was the daughter of the hostel owner, (I am not saying this in an endearing way) came over and starting licking Gemma's leg. Yes, you read that right. Later in the evening, the child, Ginella, also kept stealing the cards whilst I was trying to play solitaire. It wasn't amusing.

After we had all showered we had a beer to celebrate (we would have had one anyway but it was a good excuse), had dinner and played cards before heading to bed, as Joe and I had to get a bus back at 0600. Matt and Gemma were going to the ruins at Kuelap but as Joe and I had both already been we were getting a ride back to Chahchapoyas.

Impressive scenery at Gocta Waterfall

After our hideously early start and a bumpy ride back to Chachapoyas and the hostel we had been in before, Jose, the hostel owner let us check in early and we crashed out for a few hours before heading to "cafe fusiones" for a hot chocolate (of course) and some apple pie (probably). I was hammering my way through The Hunchback of Notredame (what a mission... don't go there! Disney lied to you.) 

The following day Joe and I went to Gocta Waterfall, an hour or so from Chachapoyas. The waterfall was only known to the world in general in 2005 when its presence was publicised by a German. It is measured as being 771m and was once thought to be the third highest in the world, but is now regarded as the fifteenth highest. The walk there was mostly downhill. I managed to fall down again (don't try and walk down a steep hill whilst singing and dancing to Don Mclean's American Pie... nobody saw me but doesn't change the fact it happened). When we got to the waterfall some Peruvians had their picture taken with us, and then I went swimming in the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. As you can imagine, it was pretty chilly. The sun must only be over the pool for an hour a day, maximum, so I was quite lucky to be there at that time. On the return walk, my legs were seriously protesting, clearly they thought I was going to give them a decent rest after the other day's hike - no such luck. 

That tiny speck on the right is me

In the evening Joe, Gemma, Matt and I headed out for dinner. The restaurant we had intended to go to was closed, so instead of finding another one, we headed for our old friend, the rum bar, where some of us consumed a little more than others.

Joe and I at the waterfall

The following day was our last in Chachapoyas as we had decided to all go together to Huanchaco on the coast, for a change of scenery. After buying bus tickets for that night's overnight bus, we visited the town's "museum" - poor effort Chachapoyas - and I finally finished reading The Hunchback of Notredame - a serious achievement in my books. Then we headed to cafe fusiones. I hadn't had any lunch when the others ate so I ordered 2 sandwiches. I was still peckish afterwards so ordered some more apple pie. It was what was going to become known as the "apple pie incident." I realised soon after it arrived that I wasn't that hungry, however pride overcame common sense and I forced it down, despite my stomach's protestations. I was going to suffer for that - I felt incredibly sick for the next 12 hours or more. Whilst I was gorging myself, the waiter gave Matt a pyramid puzzle to complete. On the board it said if you completed the puzzle you would get a free coffee. When we went to pay we found that because Matt had been the first person to successfully complete the puzzle, our complete bill was waived - had that made the apple pie worth it?

Didn't get a picture of the apple pie, so this will have to suffice

We said our goodbyes to Jose and Donna, who had been excellent hosts at Chachapoyas Backpackers, and went to the bus terminal, ready to hit the beach the following day.