Cierren Guantanamo Por Favor

Today I was granted a day off work in order to urge President Elect Barack Hussain Obama to keep his word and close the prison at Guantanamo Bay.

In order to make the plea, myself and several dozen other like minded people from Amnesty International assembled at a pretty green park overlooking the Lima waterfront to dress in orange overalls, don white masks (cleverly, you’ll note, in the same fashion as prisoners at Guantanamo) – and enact a brief demonstration of why current president Bush’s government has acted to violate the human rights of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay and why it needs to be immediately closed.

"come on Barry, just close the camp"

Several press-types from various tv channels and websites attended with all their crazy cameras and news reporters and there was even security guards and riot police who were standing by in case things got a bit rowdy. I did two interviews. The first one was in Spanish and the reporter soon got bored after she found out that I could barely say more than “Human Rights are Important” in my strained (but improving) take on Castillian. The second – for which I was chosen because I spoke native English -  I rambled on a bit about the reason why we were protesting and why a Scottish guy in Peru cared so much about an inhumane prison camp in Cuba. I have no idea where these will end up.

All in all it was a pleasant morning at the park was spent and George Bush will hopefully think twice before detaining people indefinately without trail and subjecting them to degrading, inhumane conditions again.

Our protest timing, far from being spontaneous, was in order to coincide with the imminent APEC summit which is being held in Lima. Several thousand foreign dignitaries – including George W himself – are descending on the city this weekend to chat about free trade and how to get richer during a financial crisis. It’s a pretty massive event for Lima – the government even granted two days holiday on thursday and friday, though this is probably to get as many people out of the city as possible so that the traffic has at least some chance of functioning whilst there are “real life important people” visiting. I’m writing a newsletter article on it at the moment so will post it as soon as it’s written – god bet you cant wait for that!!!!!!

So, I say to you Mr Barack Obama, if you stumble across my blog, let it be known that I urge you to close Guantanamo Bay as you have stated that you will. And, President George W Bush, should you chance a peek at this post, I’ll see you in court. At least you have the opportunity to go to court …

N.B. This all happened in Lima btw so is totally legit for a travel blog. Actually I dont even know if this ever was a travel blog, so it’s legit either way.

The City of Kings

Lima from a 21 storey building, Miraflores facing Centre

So last week was a run down of just some aspects of the city shown – in part – in the picture above. With a population 1.7 times that of Scotland, 42 times that of Aberdeen and 1678 times that of the Isle of Arran, it is by far the biggest place that I have ever lived. Travelling from one side of the city to the other is an eternity, even with the smaller of combis which are better adapted for zipping in and out of the relentless stream of honking (in both the sense of sound and of smell) traffic.

Even with it’s massive size, much of Lima still has a small town feel to it. There are noticable differences between the different districts that spread throughout the city making each part feel like a small city in its own right. There are richer districts such as San Isidro and San Borja – where the key financial institutions of the country are based – banks, large multinational businesses etc. -  and swanky resedential areas where all of the politicians have their houses built behind large walls and fences.

The district where I live and work – Miraflores – contains a large chunk of business as well though it also acts the tourist heart of the city, in that people spend the night here before heading off to Cusco and Machu Picchu. There are various classes of hotels, shopping centres, bars and restaurants that are largely tourist and backpacker orientated. The prices in many places are inflated in accordance with the fact that westerners are willing to pay more money for things. In fact it is usually the equivalent of the lowest of European and North American prices, it’s just that these are expensive in proportion to what things cost in other parts of Peru that are outside of the mainstream tourist flow.

Other districts are much in the same vein as Miraflores and the above as far as residential areas are concerned. Though not quite so touristy or finance orientated, there are many pleasant residential areas of the city where the middle class population of Lima live, where the main Universities are based and where various shopping districts are located. To the south of Miraflores is a district called Barranco, which has beaches and ideallic views of the Pacific and colourful colonial buildings crumbling at the corners. This has earned a reputation for being the bohemian haunt of the city with many artists and musicians residing there. It’s got the best night life as well with bars and nightclubs open til the morning – ahem, not that i’d know of course.

Moving outside of the districts where all of the money is, things start to get a bit more sketchy. There are less security guards and buildings are noticeably more dilapidated, many having fallen into disrepair. It’s also much dirtier as people are not hired to sweep the streets or water the parks or pick up litter (a chronic problem) outside of the “most important” districts in the city, which could be better described as the places where people pay taxes.

The centre of the city can be quite dangerous away from the heavily guarded government buildings and it is certainly not advisable to travel there after dark. It’s usually in such areas where the taxi driver advises you to lock your door in the event of him having to stop in traffic and theives storming the car (i’m told it happens).

Then – spreading around the kernels of wealth and economy – are the slums that have evolved over the last thirty years. I’ve only driven through some of these but the highways and main roads avoid the worst parts for sure. I’m sure I’ll get a proper chance to visit while I am still living here, but i’ll probably not be taking my passports/money/camera with me.

So thats a wee breakdown of how Lima works. I wish I had learned more but -as i’ve stated – this city is very big, and when working forty hours a week it is easy to fall into a comfort zone as everything i need i can have in Miraflores – with a quick taxi ride to Barranco every now and again.

For a repitition of many of these facts and statistics, check out Wikipedia, the most reliable and unbiased source of information that exists on all of the whole entire internet.

Rico

Food in Lima is quite simply delicious. It is often argued by many ex-pats living here that Peruvian cuisine should be ranked amongst the highest in the world. Were I to attempt such a ranking:

1) Indian 2) Peruvian 3) Italian 4) Thai 5) Mexican

That looked like an attempt, but anyway, my point is that Peruvian food is exquisite. It just hasn’t been recognised worldwide yet. Not too many Peruvians travel the world to start restaurants or spread the word of their cuisine, although one celebrity chef is attempting this at the moment. Another reason: Peruvians have no confidence in their culinary abilities and don’t often see the need to share recipes past those in their families.

For me, aside from my friends here, food has been by far the best thing about the city. One of my friends at work recently wrote an article for our news letter explaining why it is thriving. Another article in “The Examiner” argues that Peruvian cuisine is set for world domination. Here’s my own summary of reasons why Peruvian food is excellent:

1) Seafood is fresh. The Pacific Ocean swells to the east and the same point of the coastline that makes clouds build up during winter has the effect of shoring up (is that a palinism??) the massive variety of marine life that originates in the Pacific. Fishing boasts dont have far to travel before they can find a catch to bring directly back to the city.

2) Peru is biologically diverse – jungle, mountains, coast is the basic formation from east to west and within these areas are different climatic conditions where a vast variety of wonderful ingredients can be produced. Many types of Potatos in the mountains – endless fruits and vegetables in the Amazon – fish and seafood on the coastline.

3) Varied traditions – The Inca empire and those before it were renowned for successfully managing food production and distribution within Peru’s diverse climate range. Their traditions have since been built upon by the numerous culinary styles of people immigrating to Peru from across the world – Europe, China, other Latin American countries – to create a fantastic fusion of different flavour combination and techniques

Maybe the best thing of all is that this food is readily available. All over the city there are markets and restaurants that provide a good range of Peruvian fare for very little. Lomo saltado is a popular type of stir fry with beef, onions and peppers which is rich and flavoursome.  Some of the more expensive restaurants – still the same price as budget restaurants in Europe – have absolutely wonderful dishes, with fantastic creamy sauces poured over generous cuts of meat or crunchy shellfish served fresh in a marinade of lime and chili.

And then there’s aji. Peru wouldnt be Peru without aji. This is essentially chili sauce which can range from bright yellow to deep red to rose pink. It has a really full pepper flavour and can be mildly picante or burn your mouth out. I eat it every single day, with tasty chicharron (lightly fried pork) sandwiches or mussells or anything that i’m eating.

Which is anything here, because everything tastes good

El Centro

The centre of Lima holds many government buildings, churches, cathedrals and museums which are amongst the most old and beautiful in the city. It clusters around two main squares, the Plaza de Armas and Plaza San Martin.

One one side of the Plaza de Armas is the Presidential Palace. The Palace is guarded by an array of armed forces from police men with assault rifles to large armoured cars.

El Presidente Ally Garcia's bit

Every time I have visited the centre there has been a parade of some form. People in vibrant costumes, singing dancing or playing a swinging Latin American marching rhythm on an arrangement of brass instruments. Such parades seem to have a certain element of appeasement to them, to reinforce the glorious image of the Peruvian republic upon people. Much the same, I believe, can be said of the grandiose buildings, plazas and parks of the centre that are upkept to an overwhelming degree more than the vast majority of the city’s infrastructure.

In fact, come to think of it, Peruvian nationalism is very much used by the government to coat over many of the country’s problems. People’s attention is diverted away from the troubling life that so many people here lead by  When I first arrived here I was struck by the devout patriotism displayed at the Independence Day Parade (my first ever given that my own country is not independent) with Peruvian flags being handed out everywhere and regiments of the Peruvian army parading down the street.

The journalism in Peru could also be an indication of this. A prime example is the governments own news agency Andina which glosses over and avoidsmany negative stories whilst blowing what may only be temporary or slight positive data out of all context and proportion: Peru is great, trust your government, your life is good, there are no problems.

One glance at some of the poorer areas that cover the hills rising on the outskirts of Lima show that everything here is not really all well and good. In reality, it feels like problems with poverty can never be solved as the government simply does not have enough money. So politicians are forced to lie and say everything’s ok just to stay in power and earn their salaries. Behind closed doors they care only about their own wallets.

For people who do indeed live a comfortable life, this is an easy pill to swallow. For the vast majority of others, not so much.

Sunny sunny Lima

Ok, this post was inevitable, so I thought I’d save it for the night this week when I got in late.

If there’s one thing that has changed alot in my time in Lima, it’s the weather. When I arrived it was cloudy. Extremely cloudy. There was no break in the cloud for up to months on end and neither sun, star nor blue sky crept into vision for even a second of this. Thisdoes tend to give the old optimism a good battering. I have often looked at the “buy one get one free” factor 30 jumbo bottles of suncream that I bought in my last day in Scotland and wondered whether I will ever take them out of their boots pharmacy carrier bag.

Another oddity: despite cloud persistence there had not been one drop of rain for three months in this city before the other day when it spat lightly for a good fifteen minutes. Sure, there had been a spot of mild drizzle, but this had never became heavy enough to constitute full blown drops of rain. The city is very humid – it is on the coast of the pacific ocean – but this humidity hangs in the air and forms into big thick clouds and mist that have absolutely no intention of turning into rain. The reason why the following is “necessary”:

Watering the grass

Lima is in the middle of a desert, so in those areas of town where people are lucky enough to have earned the privalage of grassy areas, much water application is needed. So the grass gets watered.

The proximity to the worlds biggest ocean mixed with the cold Humbolt Current that flows just past the very tip of Lima’s coastline mixed with the city’s barren desert terrain mixed with the barrier that is formed by the nearby Andes all combine to constitute what is known as a “micro climate” which applies solely to Lima and is the reason for all the clouds. In as little as half an hours drive outside of the city it is possible to find places where the sun presides all year round. Of all the cities in South America I could have chosen to live…

But now, as summer approaches, Lima’s other season is beginning to become apparent, and it is getting properly sunny. With subtropical sun comes extreme heat, and as a result, today I am sunburnt. Might have to break open that sun cream after all…

The past

It has been difficult for me to grasp the pre-Columbian history of Peru when living only in Lima, which is ironic given that the country’s history was one of the main reasons I chose to come here. I wrote my dissertation on the Spanish conquest of the Inca empire earlier this year and it inspired me to see the ruins left by that empire and of the people who came before it. Only in Cusco, the Sacred Valley and the Colca Canyon have I been so priviliged as to see any pre-Colombian structures.

In Lima these aspects of the past are barely visible. One ruin – Huaca Pucllana – does stand out of the metropolis but it largely resembles a neatly crafted pile of dirt and it seems out of context with towering condominiums appearing whenever you turn your head. The only other remenants lie in the names of various aspects of the city. There’s Inca Kola (a bubblegum flavoured soft drink) and Inca Farma (a popular pharmacy) with some streets and universities being named after famous Inca leaders or scholars. These are just a few examples that display that people in Lima are aware of their country’s distant past.

But in truth it is of little concern to those immersed into the reality of a developing world city of eight million people in 2008. Lima is dominated by European descendants who care far more about aspiring to western values and glorifying the Peruvian republic. They seem very distant from the quechua speaking amerindians of the Andes who show much more nostalgia for Peru’s vibrant pre-Colombian heritage, or not so much nostalgia as a certain type of continuation of traditions.

Then there are the museums, which are pretty damn cool. Through these it is possible to catch a glimpse of Peru’s rich and diverse history that streches back thousands of years and contains numerous peoples and civilisations. Today I visited the Museo Nacional Antropologia, Arquelogia y Historia. This is the third of Lima’s museums that I have been to and they display an almost alien world to that of Lima’s urban sprawl. Beautifully crafted pottery with intricate colours and patterns; delicate peices of jewellery crafted from gold and silver; textiles woven with such precision; these remenants of Perus colourful past seem so far away from the unimaginative, unsubstantial and decadent cluster of buildings that constitutes most of modern Lima.

cerámica chévere

The Eternal Dilemma of Buying Things

I spent the day today clothes shopping. I ended up with nothing.

Shopping in Lima – true to the nature of the city itself – is crazy and completely uncontrolled.

Just about everything outside of the few main department stores is a pirate or a fake. In some parts of town, stalls sprawl across the pavements of streets with varying degrees of quality pirate movies, cds and computer games. Which is good if you want to watch a movie for next to nothing, but bad if you dont want this to be marred by disc skipping, audio problems and silhouettes of heads moving across the front of the cinema screen where the movie was recorded.

By and large, different districts of the city host clusters of stores selling the same type of good. There are areas where computer software is sold (pirated of course), there are streets of book sellers (many ringbound photocopies) and neighbourhoods of electronics stores (these dont so much have fakes as expensive imports for sale). Today I was in a clothes section of town: a street composed of near hundreds of shops dedicated to the religion of clothing. They are arranged in rather haphazard fashion, not one area of wall was wasted where a display or colourful entrance could be held.

a shopping street in Lima - blurred ... ahem ... to emphasise craziness ... yeah

After searching the entire street i could find no decent pair of trousers that was long enough to cover to my entire leg. The fakes were again plentiful: I lost count of the number of fakey brand names that i saw. Luckily it was easy to spot the worst of these when after just seconds of examination it was possible to pull threads clean from the stitches of the trousers. Even amongst the better quality clothes I could find absolutely nada, there are definite disadvantages to being tall, especially in a country where people are generally small.

I will probably have to settle for one of the main department stores – Ripley or Saga – for my trouser needs. These are located in more well off parts of town and have rather a more western mall-like feel to them but are markedly more expensive than their tiny-room-with-entrance-opening-onto-a-mobbed-street counterparts.

Walking down one of these shopping streets is an experience in itself. Today I was harrassed by people from all sides, thier favourite advertisment allure was the repeated shout of “Lacoste, ropas de lacoste, lacoste la mejor”. After I hazarded a mere glance ate one pair of trousers that a salesman was selling he tailed me for at least a minute as I tried to walk away, shouting at me to make sure that there was no mistake of what an unbelievable offer I was missing.

This is life in Peru: there is always a middle man who’s job it is to advertise and sell absolutely anything and everything to people walking down the street minding their own business: shops, buses, restaurants, candies, cigarettes, massages, chewing gum, casinos, empanadas, fruit, drugs, entertainment … you can see where i’m going with this. From what I can gather this culture is born out of the fact that there just isnt enough jobs to go around. People have to do anything to try and make money and creating jobs that purely involve selling things – anything – is one way to give paid, commissioned work to more people.

This works on many levels. At the top end you have a guy who stands outside a classy restaurant to try and lure you inside with special deals and a neatly prepared sales pitch in which he competes with other such fellows from nearby restaurants to win your custom. I have perfected the art of just plain ignoring these people and not reacting to a single word that they say, it just puts me off and makes me think “if your trying so hard to sell this place, it cant be very popular, which means it cant be very good”.

The sad thing is that at the bottom end of the scale many salespeople are children. It’s pretty heartbreaking to turn down a seven year old who is scurrying around the streets trying desperately to find somebody to give them money for some of the sweets or candies or whatever it is that lies in a tray held in place by a strap looping around the back of their neck.

The humble combi

The public transport in Lima relies almost entirely on a system of minibuses.

Wherever you need to get in Lima a combination of combis will take you there. There are hundreds if not thousands of them. They are painted different colours to represent their company and have the names of the most important streets that they will visit written across the side.

Inside a combi

Combis are small, dirty, usually packed full of people and pretty dangerous. Each one has a crew of two people: one person drives while the other handles the passengers and the money. The latter hangs through the reclining doors and shouts the names of the same streets to attract customers. In order to catch a combi you need to wait at the side of the road, search for one that you think is going your way and indicate that you want to get on – not a difficult task seeing as they all slow down to entice you on board.

In the process of scrambling on to the combi, a couple of words are exchanged with the “conductor” to confirm that the combi is going your way. By this point the driver will have already screeched off again making finding a seat and sitting down somewhat troublesome. The combi then careers thrugh the wild sea Lima traffic, the driver honks his horn as an indication, or more accurately a warning sign to other drivers who begin to pull in front of his path.

After paying the fare, usually somewhere in the region of 20p, you have to shout “baja a la esquina ” to the conductor when you want to ge off. A quick well-timed jump later, prompted by the anxious shouting of the conductor: “baja, baja, baja. baja” (pronounced bacha, ch like the word loch), and you find yourself on the pavement long after realising that the combi has already teared off again.

Apart from taxis, whose drivers need to be bargained with for a fair price, combis are the most affordable way to get about the city.

And so what of Lima?

What has been written in this blog so far only really covers a total of 7 days out of the four months that have passed in Peru: Cusco lasted four days; Arequipa and the Colca Canyon just three. In the next seven days I am goin to try and double this.

For those of you who don’t know, I live in Lima.  Like any city on earth Lima has it’s own characteristics, it’s own distinct features and it’s own little quirks and fables. By making a log of one week of my everyday life here I hope to cover at least a few of these in more detail. I have been largely inspired by a visit from two of my friends from home who came to celebrate my birthday at the end of October. Watching how they reacted to the city made me think back to the same things i noticed on my first days here and just how much I have become accustomed to life here over four months.

Also I got a camera which makes it easier to show what I am trying to describe.

Ok. Thursday November the sixth 2008. I’ll start at my work. Here is the view that I spent 8 hours looking at today.

eight hours a day, five days a week

This is one of the many beautiful parks in Miraflores, the district of Lima where I work and live. This picture was taken from my office window.

The spikes are pretty much a standard part of many of the houses and offices here. Fear and protection are very much a part of every day life though I am told that this has eased since the threat of terrorism in the 1980’s and 1990’s. Senderos Luminoso were one group who successfully detonated a devastating bomb in Miraflores alongside other parts of the country killing many people.

So there are spikes, electric fences and glass set into concrete that line high walls running around the outside of Limas more expensive properties. There are also security guards who occupy booths at the corners of most of the blocks in Miraflores who are very nice and always like to chat or just say hello.

The park is full of various birds, my favourite of which are humming birds who hover around the spikes before speeding of again.

There is always some sort of noise coming from the park, whether it be the screech of the whistle by a guy selling ice creams to kids from the nearby school or the endless cycle of car alarms that seems endemic in this city which ring out immediately after the alarm has been set.

So this is the view I have spent the best part of my time in Peru looking at. Along with my computer of course!

Count the Adjectives

Arequipa and the Colca Canyon were an even tighter mission than Cusco and MP. This time I managed to arrange just one day off of work to complete a weekend excursion to a city high in the Andes and far far away from Lima. This was on the condition that I made up the extra day by working the following Saturday.

No flying in and out this time either: I had to endure my first Latin American long haul bus journey.

Now even the shortest intercity bus journeys in Peru are comparable to what would be considered the longest of road trips that I have taken in the UK. Arequipa was billed at fourteen hours one way, but with mountainous roads, stoppages, and road accidents the journey ended up taking eighteen. This is by far the most preferred form of travel on the continent. There are barely any railroads except for the Machu Picchu money-spinner and flights are too expensive for the vast majority of people and those of us who no longer have any European money left.

So we sped down the Peruvian coastline on the night of 18^th September (hmmm … let’s call it … writer’s block). I didn’t sleep a wink – buses are not built for people who need more than average leg-room. Plus I have the tendency to be intrigued by what lies outside the window. The landscape looked lunar at some stages with grey-brown dirt and barren rocks reminding me that Lima sits smack bang in the middle of the coastal desert that dtretches the entire length of the Peruvian coast. The Pacific Ocean loomed to the right, right up until the point that we cut up into the mountains on approach to Arequipa. After what seemed like a life time of bus travel – during which I finished reading an entire book (not something that I am renowned for) – we arrived in Arequipa.

Arequipa

The city looked lovely. We had little time to linger however as our time was pressed and we wanted to visit the Colca Canyon within our schedule. We had a couple of hours to tour the bus station – brimming with passengers and alternative bus companies – before we set off towards the Canyon.

The sunset on this journey was top banana, burning red on the horizon, pouring over walls and near-primitive farmland to project deep orange light over the mountains that surround Arequipa, which include the towering white volcano El Misti. After the sun fell we were greeted by the stars of the southern hemisphere. This is still not something that I am accustomed to given that I live in perhaps the cloudiest place south of the equator. I had already caught a glimpse of them on the MP train as I cupped my hands around my eyes and against the train window. Not exactly prime viewing.

A further 4 hours by bus wound us through the Andes to the small town of Chivay, deep at the base of the Colca Canyon. It was dark and true to Andean form bone-achingly cold. We searched for a hostel with seven spare beds and after some food an Irish pub soon drifted off to sleep.

Or rather a quick snooze. The first bus (yes another) to “Cruz del Condor” left at four in the morning. We wanted to spend the early hours of Saturday at such a place not for no good reason. As the name suggests, we went to see condors, and the cruz (cross) high on the edge of the Canyon marks the perfect spot to fulfil such a desire.

I don’t think I have ever felt this cold in my life. The Andes is so so cold at night and in the morning before the sun comes out. So cold. Seriously.

hat blows gracefully; scottish man slowly freezes

seven very cold people from Bolivia, Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, Germany, Scotland and Switzerland stand on the edge of a canyon in the hope of seeing condors

Anyway, the condors came out as the sun rose making for a beautiful display of wings, feathers, majesty, elegance and all that. There was certainly some swooping involved and I’m sure I caught the glimpse of a talon. “The Kings of the Andes” they certainly are and they certainly looked at home against a jaw dropping backdrop of crisp mountain ridges. They didn’t seem to care too much about us, and neither they should have.

As the morning went on and the sun rose higher a few of us decided to trek further up the canyon towards a small town. This walk I saw some of the most gorgeous landscape which became ever more illuminated by the warmth of the sun. Fields of golden grass bordered with green hedges were at the base of the canyon and the typically pointy Andes creased with deep caverns stretched high up into the sky. Terracing swept around the contours of the hills with rich brown patches providing flat fertile land for farmers on even the most precipitous of perches.

Our group walked for an hour or two, taking in our surroundings and enjoying the silence that is sorely missed in Lima. We jumped on a bus that our friends were already on – they had opted to wait at the cruz to catch a better glimpse of the condors. We twisted and turned through the canyon on out way to the small town Cabanaconda. The Agricultural terracing here was fantastic, like layered steps at every contour of the hills.

Andean farming

Cabanaconda

After some breakfast (which felt like lunch – we had been up for hours by this point) and a bit of deliberation we decided to continue trekking to an “oasis” at the base of the canyon. This was an epic hike.

descent

It took us over two hours to walk down; the view was, believe it or not, spectacular. It was possible to see where layers of molten lava had seeped down the side of the canyon to form the high walls of rock.

The blue water of the oasis taunted us on the whole trek as we caught glimpses of it winding our way down the rocky path.

closer ...

and closer ...

and closer ...

When we arrived we were greeted by signs saying ‘welcome to paradise’ and ‘paradise – this way’. My mind quickly turned to Leonardo de Caprio – not because his acting has left a particularly striking impression on me – but because this setup looked overwhelmingly like somebody had watched (or read) The Beach a few too many times. Now, I’m not a picky person but when two adequate swimming pools and a modest bunch of palm trees accompanied by overpriced bar and restaurant are billed as ‘paradise’ then surely something is amiss.

"paradise"

I’m being ungrateful again (please see about section for irony and sarcasm warning), the place was pretty enough, the canyon surroundings at the very least were idyllic and the isolation certainly added an edge even if the oasis was a touch surfer-dude-ish. A dip in the swimming pool was also welcome after the walk and I soon reminded myself of how crap I am at swimming. No matter.

Perhaps I would have enjoyed the beach … I mean oasis more if we had had more than an hour to explore. Our tight schedule dictated otherwise. After spending the best part of a sun soaked day descending a side of one of the world’s deepest canyons, few of us were enthusiastic to climb back up which was going to take twice as long as the walk down. Moreover, sunlight was not on our side as the sun god slowly creeped towards the edge of the high canyon. Luckily, the owners of the oasis had already thought the naivety of unprepared gallavanters over.

la mula

The mule: a stubborn but highly respectable animal, it climbed the mountain with little effort, even with a tall Scottish upstart lodged on to its back.

"muling it up"

yet more mule action

The muleteer knew what he was doing. He talked to the mules all the way up and they refused to walk without his guidance. They surefootedly marched us up half way to the top where we met our friends – who had started walking before us – to swap mule duty and make the whole procedure fair and more affordable (7 mules OTT).

As the sun finally set over the Colca Canyon, my German friend, my Brazilian friend and I heaved ourselves up the last stretch of the trek back to the town of Cabanaconda. We fumbled our way through an unorthodox farmland route before arriving in the town and meeting with our mule-aided friends.

I couldn’t help it. I shouldn’t have. Coca tea is just so damned moreish and we had spent a long day walking. It certainly has a buzz to it and I found myself sipping somewhat quickly on a cup of the home-made brew in the rustic restaurant our friends had discovered. I found it so hard to get to sleep that night as we bussed (again) back to Chivay. After crashing into another hostel bed (me not the bus) I drifted off into an unsubstantial altitude-hampered sleep.

At four AM the next morning I used what was left of my physical ability to drag myself to the bus station so that we could return to Arequipa in time to catch a bus back to Lima for Monday morning.

We arrived at Arequipa just after sunrise. The city is fascinating; most of the buildings in the centre are built from white volcanic stone. It has a very Mediterranean feel to it with Romanesque architecture such as pillars and domes garnishing the Spanish religious buildings. This has a much more polished feel than Cusco however. The city seems much more organised when compared to the haphazard colonial architecture that sits on top of the firm foundations which are the remains of the Inca capital.

Plaza de Armas

We took a sleepy and relaxed tour of the city. I found some birthday presents to be sent to my adorable older niece. We generally took it easy after the previous day and enjoyed the ambient atmosphere of the city and I indulged in some of the city’s renowned chocolate.

relaxing in Arequipa

Arequipa is also famous for picanteries: restaurants that specialise in spicy food. Though the place that we found was good, it didn’t quite live up to Lima’s standards. I do not joke when I say that the food in the capital is absolutely amazing. Peruvian food is in the top five in the world for sure.

Ok, I digress, I’m sorry but the quality of Peruvian food should not be understated (f**king delicious by the way). On the journey back to Lima the bus was still to small for me, even after I had forked out for “Semi-Cama” (or “half-bed”). I just could not sleep with my legs jammed into the back of somebody who had reclined their Semi-cama as far back as it could go. At least this bus was faster and only took twelve hours…

The next day at work was an absolute riot. I had got off the bus at six that morning, got home at half seven and gone to work at nine, all with a total of seven-hours-in-four-nights-sleep behind me. I have never wanted to stare at a computer screen for eight hours less.

Of course it was worth it. The Colca Canyon was stunning. Arequipa was a marvel. Fresh air and sunshine are always refreshing. I am sure I will go back