Semana Santa 2014: Arequipa and Puno

            Becca arrived in Arequipa early one Monday morning and frankly after one night on a bus and one night sleeping in the airport, she was irritable. This increased slightly when she learned the price of a cab to her hostel and that there were no other means of transport. She didn’t have much memory of the ride to the hostel or speaking to the man at the front desk; she simply knew that she awoke fully clothed and face down two hours later when Lyndsey entered the room, getting in from her later flight.

            Feeling in much better spirits, they decided to explore the city. The breathlessness that high altitude mixed with beautiful sights returned to her as they entered the beautiful Plaza de Armas. 

            Wandering through the stone streets, they stumbled upon a convent. Deciding the fee seemed reasonable, they entered and spent the following three hours roaming the convent’s long outdoor passages, living quarters, museums, and chapels in nearly complete silence. At times, Becca found herself nearly in tears at the simultaneous simplicity and complexity of the place. She sat on stone staircases and benches considering the many questions of the world.

Having run into some issues with their pre-planned Trek, Becca and Lyndsey opted for a one night, two day trek to the semi-active volcano, Chachani. The following day, they packed their bags and went to the trekking company’s office to get extra cold weather gear and talk to the trip coordinator.

            It was when Becca heard the words “base camp” that she started to wonder what they’d signed up for.

            “Did you say ‘base camp’,” Lyndsey asked before Becca had to.

            “Yes, base camp is at 14,000 feet, you’ll be hiking in today, it’s only an hour and a half. You’ll eat dinner there and sleep early tonight to acclimate. At 1 AM, you’ll get up, eat breakfast and start the climb to the top,” the coordinator explained.

            “To the top...” Becca repeated, confused.

            “Of Chachani,” the coordinator explained and walked away to gather their extra coats and pants. Becca turned to Lyndsey,

            “So we’re climbing a volcano,” she said.

            “Yep, a 20,000 foot volcano,” Lyndsey agreed.

            “Ok, cool, no big.”

            Once their gear was gathered, they repacked their bags and piled into an SUV with a driver and three French hikers. Two hours and one long unintentional nap later, they arrived at the trail head.

Here they met their guide, Ivan, who had been trekking for as long as Becca had been alive. He was knowledgable, fun, and understanding. The only flaw either of the girls saw was that he was constantly checking on one of the French hikers, Sebastian, who was clearly the weakest link but Becca only beat him by a couple of points. Checking in began quickly to border on picking on and Becca secretly thanked the universe that it wasn’t her.

            That afternoon, they ate and went to bed around five. Becca did not sleep well. Between the low temperatures and the high altitude, she woke every 20 minutes. Each time she had to sit up to catch her break. At 1 AM, Ivan called for them and Becca replied. She threw an arm toward Lyndsey and hit her until she woke with a yell.

            “Ok, ok, I’m awake,” she said and rolled onto her back. “I just fell asleep.”

            “Uhm, yeah. I was literally winded from sleeping last night, I don’t think I can do this,” Becca joked but her concern was very real.

            Minutes later she learned that she was not the only one concerned, during the night, Sebastian had grown ill from altitude and decided to stay at base camp. They ate breakfast in silence and all Becca could think of was her new status as the weakest link.

            Sure enough, Ivan started checking in with her every ten minutes. She breathed hard, she was exhausted, and her balance was off, but she was determined to finish no matter what Ivan thought possible.

            At five the fun began to announce its presence on the horizon and the group reached the bottom of the final climb to the summit.

Not long after, they reached a crater that had once exploded in lava and mayhem.

            “If this blew, everyone would die in the whole valley,” Ivan noted casually. “Let’s take photos and then climb to the final summit.”

 In the grueling final five minutes of the climb, Ivan ran ahead of them and took photos of their climb through the snow.

At the very top of the volcano, the 20,000 ft summit, they found a cross bearing all sorts of prayers and names and quite possibly, the edge of the world.

As they turned around, the group noticed the shadow of the volcano across the valley and gazed at it in wonder. And how they laughed as each of them, the educated, well-traveled, intelligent people they were, waved, just to see if they could see themselves in a 20,000 ft shadow.

Spoiler Alert: they couldn’t...

            They spent only a few minutes at the top before beginning their descent. Becca nearly fell over the edge twice and was luckily saved by the Frenchman behind her as each time he casually anchored into the mountain side with his ice axe and grabbed her around the middle.

            The descent proved to be much faster, as Ivan showed them a sort of jumping, running motion that they used to climb down. Becca was not good at it.

            “No, no, like skiing, Becca, just like skiing,” Ivan instructed.

            “Right, right,” Becca replied and followed his lead, again failing.

            “No, like skiing, whoosh, woosh,” Ivan repeated.

            “Ohhhhh, yeah ok,” Becca agreed and failed once more.

            “Becca, have you ever been skiing?” Ivan finally asked.

            “Not once,” Becca replied.

            With a little luck and a lot of near death experiences, they finally reached base camp. They quickly ate a few snacks and packed up, heading out to the trail head to meet their ride.

            When they reached the trail head a little over an hour later, Lyndsey checked her watch, “it’s only 9...” she noted. They both sighed and got into the jeep which carried them back to Arequipa.

            After a day of relaxing, they decided to go for a slightly less intense adventure; river rafting. The route turned out to be a mix of level one and two rapids and pretty relaxing save for a cliff jump in the middle. But both girls had a good time and returned once again exhausted.

The following days were more relaxed as Easter Sunday approached. They went out dancing with other volunteers, they drank a lot of good coffee, they watched reenactments of the betrayal of Christ, and they went out for a very nice meal including alpaca ribs, fine wine and cuy (guinea pig).

On Easter Sunday, the girls boarded a bus to Puno where they would be staying for a few days to see Lake Titicaca and the ruins nearby. Upon their arrival though, they found a wall which housed something sexual....

After spending a day relaxing in the hostel, they ventured out to explore the local churches and Plaza de Armas.

 

Afterwards, deciding they would need to climb in order to get a real view of the lake, they set off toward a view point, a word Becca realized she no longer knew in English (thanks Mom for reminding me).

After a night in to relax and eat ice cream...

....the girls spent the following day visiting Sillustani, ancient ruins built next to a nearby pond. 

After a week and a half, countless hours of talking and watching The Mindy Project, approximately 3,000 metrics tons of food, and a few solid doses of pure adrenaline, it was time to go home. They boarded the plane out of Juliaca, into Lima, said their goodbyes and Becca got on the 14 hour night bus home.

Her vacation-end sadness did not persist though as the universe seems intent on pushing away her blues. On the way home not only did she get upgraded to an earlier bus and first class, she played bingo on the bus in a rare moment of good humor and won a free bus ticket. Life was good.