TRAVEL JOURNAL: PERU
The Gerickes’ South American odyssey ends in Peru – a country with high mountains and deep canyons, where ancient civilisations and modernity live side by side. Jump in and let’s go!
“Machu Picchu is on top of the mountain, surrounded by deep ravines and high peaks. The huge polished stones were fitted with no mortar between them. How the heavy stones were brought here remains a mystery. The site is so isolated that it was not ‘discovered’ until 1911!”
Early one morning in May 2018, we stood on a mountain ridge in Peru, surrounded by even higher summits. Everything was green and mist swirled around, lifting slightly every now and then to give us a glimpse of the valleys and the river far below.
We were vaguely aware of other tourists milling about the ruins, but we were spellbound by the magical setting and the resolve of the Inca empire to build a temple of rocks in such a remote location. Welcome to Machu Picchu.
The Andes range is the spine of Peru, with 37 peaks higher than 6 000 m. (By comparison, the highest point in southern Africa is Thabana Ntlenyana in Lesotho at “only” 3 482 m.) In this inhospitable landscape of deep valleys and snow-capped volcanoes lies a rich history of ancient civilisations that have blended with Spanish influences into the modern nation of Peru.
Peru is slightly bigger than South Africa and has three distinct geographic areas: desert along the 3 000 km coastline – an extension of the Atacama; the Andes rising a mere 100 km inland; and rainforest at the base of the mountains another 100 km further to the east. Here, rivers course through tropical thickets to feed the tributaries of the mightiest river of them all, the Amazon.
The belly button of the world
We had arrived in Cusco a week previously – the oldest inhabited city in the Americas. It was the historical capital of the sprawling Inca empire from the 13th century until the arrival of the Spanish in the 16th century. The Incas called it El Ombligo del Mundo, “The Navel of the World”.
Nowadays, Cusco is the gateway to Machu Picchu and many other ruins from the Inca era. However, the city is not just about stones and forgotten stories; many Quechua people, the descendants of the Incas, still live according to the old traditions.
For example, the Centro de Textiles Tradicionales is a living museum where llama and alpaca wool is hand-woven by traditional methods into colourful garments. Hanlie loved the textiles and we far exceeded our baggage allowance for the flight home!
Machu Picchu is the most popular tourist destination in South America. In order to control the crowds, the number of visitors is capped at 2 500 per day. Usually we avoid the big tourist places, but we couldn’t miss this icon.
Instead of doing the famous Inca Trail with an organised tour group, we opted for an alternative called the Salkantay Trek. It’s meant to be about 70 km long, but we hiked alone and got lost a few times, thus ended up covering more than 100 km over four days.
We took taxis from Cusco to Soraypampa, a small mountain village. Here we shouldered our backpacks and started walking according to a map we’d bought in Cusco. Locals and the few other hikers that we came across looked at us as if we were mad. “Where are your guides and porters?” they asked.
Too late now…
We had arrived in Cusco only two days before and we were not yet acclimatised to the altitude. From the onset, it was a steep climb – the imposing Salkantay mountain (6 271 m) looming over us was not good for morale! To top it all off, it started snowing lightly.
Hanlie suffered in the thin air and under the strain of the backpack. Late that afternoon, breathless, taking one agonising step at a time, we managed to shuffle across the top of the Salkantay Pass (4 630 m.) Rain was pelting down. What a relief to see a semicircle of A-frame shelters made of thatch, each just big enough to pitch a small hiking tent underneath.
We managed to swallow some soup before we snuggled into the layers and layers of warm clothing and sleeping bags. Bone-tired. The footpaths over the next three days were not marked and we got lost a few times. We waded through ice-cold water up to our hips, through fast-flowing rivers while clinging to each other so as not to lose our footing. We had to make our way down slippery footpaths with rain coming down in buckets.
With views of Machu Picchu in the distance, we hiked through exquisite orchid forests, abundant with colourful bromeliads.
Exhausted and with aching feet, we arrived at the foot of Machu Picchu and joined the tourist queues in the gateway town of Aguas Calientes to buy our tickets for the following day.
That night, we pitched our hiking tent for the last time. Removing our boots revealed blistered feet from having had to wade through so many streams.
We woke at 3 am and packed our tent so we could join the queue at 5 am. When the gates opened, we jostled for a position to climb the 2 000 steps to the ruins above. (You can also take a bus to the top.)
Machu Picchu is on top of the mountain, surrounded by deep ravines and high peaks. The huge polished stones were fitted with no mortar between them. How the heavy stones were brought here remains a mystery. The site is so isolated that it was not “discovered” until 1911!
Ever seen a hoatzin?
Back in Cusco, we were picked up at our campsite by a tour guide called Angel Robles, for a trip to nearby Manu National Park. It’s not practical to visit the park in your own vehicle – a guide must accompany you if you want to go deep into the forest.
Cusco is a tourist hub and there are many tour agencies selling trips. But we insisted on a guide who came from the forest, and one who preferably worked for a family-owned business. We were lucky to find Angel from Manu Rainforest Peru ( manurainforestperu.com). He’d grown up in the forest, and his mother and brothers still lived there.
Because of recent heavy rains, a huge landslide had occurred on the road from Cusco to the Amazon below, and it took us most of the day to reach the Madre de Dios River in a Toyota Hiace.
At the river, Angel first took us on a raft into the jungle to find the strange hoatzin – a bird that looks like a cross between a chicken, a hawk and a punk rocker. We were lucky and saw a male and female playing on a branch right in front of us.
Afterwards, we took a small boat across the river and arrived at the lodge just before sunset: four bungalows tucked between huge trees, with the sounds of exotic birds and monkeys getting ready to sleep for the night. We were woken by jungle sounds the next morning and saw the day slowly dawning through the mesh walls of the bungalow. We were given gumboots and made a further trip on the boat up the same river to the next camp, Tree House Lodge. Our cabin was right up in the trees, with scarlet macaws making a terrible noise while eating berries, and inquisitive capuchin monkeys peering through the leaves.
From this camp, we trekked through dense jungle early in the morning and late at night, waded through water in our gumboots and saw huge tarantulas. And with Angel’s help, we identified 41 bird species.
We also floated down the river on inflatable tubes. Fortunately, we only encountered curious otters and none of the other critters that lurk in the depths of the Amazonian rivers…
Floating about on Lake Titicaca
After Manu, we drove to the city of Puno, next to Lake Titicaca. At 8 300 km² in size, it’s the largest lake in South America. It’s also the highest navigable lake in the world, at 3 809 m in altitude.
The stats above are impressive, but something even more amazing happens here: The story goes that many moons ago, the Uros people built floating islands and started living on the lake to protect themselves from the encroaching Inca empire. Many families still live on these islands, which are made of totora reeds. In fact, everything on the islands is made of reeds: the houses, boats…
We joined a tour group – the only way to visit the floating islands. Hostesses dressed in traditional attire met the tourists at the harbour in Puno, from where we took a boat to one of the islands. It felt soft and springy to walk on the island – the mass of reeds floats in water and rots, so the inhabitants constantly add new layers on top to prevent the island from sinking.
We then took a boat to Amantani Island – which is a natural island and can’t sink – where we would spend the night as guests of a local family. Our hostess walked us to her home, which was basic but clean. The family was nervous at first as we were their first guests, and they took a while to relax. Language was a problem but we somehow managed to communicate. In the afternoon we explored Amantani and watched the sun set over the lake. That night they made us one of their traditional dishes of chicken, vegetables and potato.
We were woken by a noisy rooster the next morning. After coffee, a boat took us back to Puno – and the 21st century.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Vinicunca, also known as Rainbow Mountain (5 150 m) is between Cusco and Puno, so named because of the strange, striated soils that make up the mountain – colourful stripes of red clay, quartzose, sandstone, calcium carbonate, ferro magnesium and other minerals.
We arrived there at midday just in time to experience a fierce rain- and hailstorm. We decided to camp wild nearby and attempt the hike to the top early the next day.
We were up before dawn and hiked, or rather suffered, for two hours in the thin air to cover the 5,5 km to the top. ( There’s an easier option of going to the top on horseback.)
We were first to reach the summit and spent an hour alone, surrounded by other mountains also dressed in colourful stripes as far as the eye could see. Behind us was snow-capped Nevado Ausangate (6 384 m), one of the highest mountains in Peru.
As we descended, passing hundreds of tourists on their way up, we felt quite chuffed with ourselves for getting up so early.
Next, we travelled through beautiful mountain countryside to Arequipa, the second-biggest city in Peru, about 200 km north-west of the border with Chile. It is known as the “white city” due to the old baroque buildings made from local sillar stone. The snow-covered volcano, El Misti (5 822 m), forms an impressive backdrop to the city.
About 100 km north of Arequipa is the Colca Canyon – at a maximum depth of 3 270 m, it’s one of the deepest canyons in the world, almost twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the USA.
We stayed in the village of Cabanaconde near the canyon edge and had dinner at the Pachamama Hostel. Ludwig Betalleluz, the owner, is an outgoing American with shoulder-length hair and a broad smile. He’d arrived in the village 10 years previously, fallen in love with Cabanaconde and never left.
For dinner, he recommended a lamb dish he described as “the best in the valley”. The vibe was lively, with locals and tourists bonding and sharing stories. The locals were fascinated by us Africans from across the ocean: “Okay, you are from South Africa but which country in South Africa?”
Ludwig advised us to hike down to the Sangalle oasis, but he warned that the path – with a 1 200 m descent – was extremely steep. We asked around and found out that there was another way down: a four-hour drive on a difficult road. By now you know, that’s the way we like to roll!
The path was steep and narrow, and there were only a few places where vehicles could pass. Luckily we only met one other vehicle. The last few hundred metres were rather traumatic, with the road carved out of the rock face and many signs of rockfalls.
It was late when we arrived at the small village of Cosñinhua halfway into the canyon. We stopped at the only hostel we could find – they were renovating, but the owner took pity on us and allowed us to use the one room that was completed. We made our own dinner in their kitchen between the scaffolding and enjoyed a beer with the owner’s friends. They only spoke Spanish and we had to guess what they were saying.
Early the next morning we hiked down a steep path to Sangalle. To think, donkeys loaded with building material came down this same path!
Sangalle has lush trees, swimming pools and gardens that contrast with the raw, earth-coloured rock faces. We lapped it all up, then drove back up the steep and scary road all the way back to Cabanaconde.
Sunrise the next morning found us on a ledge overlooking the canyon. We made ourselves comfortable and waited. Ludwig had directed us to the best spot to watch condors.
The Andean condor is a rare kind of vulture, one of the largest flying birds in the world, weighing up to 15 kg with a wingspan of up to 3,2 m.
After an hour we saw some specks deep in the canyon. Half an hour later, more than 15 condors were gliding past us on the thermals created by the steep canyon walls. The condors were so close that it felt like we could almost touch them.
During our travels in South America over the past four years, we have crossed borders into southern Peru four times. Had Covid-19 not thrown us a curveball, we would have been back in Peru now for our fifth visit. It’s a magnificent country.
South America, we’re not done with you yet!
Sources: smithsonianmag.com; nationalgeographic.com; britannica.com