Altitude problems, Chances of the occasional riot !
Recommend to potential buyers:
yes
Full review
Arequipa is 2,350 metres above sea level and is dominated by the impressive El Misti volcano, whose peak towers over the city at 5,825 metres. Ancient eruptions of El Misti covered the area in pale volcanic tuff called sillar, from which most buildings are constructed, earning the city the title of "White City". The area is prone to earthquakes, the last big one being in 2001, when the cathedral and other city buildings were damaged.
Our tour of the city started with a visit to the Santa Catalina Monastery, which was directly opposite our hotel. This is like a walled city within the town of Arequipa, in which nuns lived a totally enclosed life from the time they committed themselves to the convent. Apparently during Spanish times, it was a tradition that the first born son of high class families went into the military, whilst the second born daughter committed herself to God. As they were mostly from very wealthy families, although they had a life of seclusion from the outside world, they brought into the monastery a substantial dowry of valuables - and a maid! It was built around 1580 and is a photographer's dream, with wonderful arches and doorways, ancient wooden doors, tiny enclaves, beautiful courtyards and fabulous vistas.
From there we walked down into the main square, Plaza del Armas, where the huge cathedral fills one whole side of the square and the others are made up of beautiful colonial buildings from the 17th and 18th centuries. It's no surprise that the historic centre of Arequipa was designated a World Heritage site in 2000.
On the day of our visit there was a long line of riot police standing guard in front of the cathedral, shields at the ready! There were several groups around the square holding banners and chanting slogans and our guide explained that there had been a revolt in a small Andean town, rebels had taken over the police station and 4 police officers had been killed. The rebels were currently holding hostages and demanding the president resign, and all towns were on high alert for possible trouble from supporters of the rebels.
We went into the cathedral, which was packed as there was a visiting bishop giving a sermon, so we felt a little uncomfortable and didn't want to disturb his address. Moving on to a cloister around the corner from the square, which had a beautifully decorated courtyard with intricately carved columns, we suddenly heard a loud disturbance outside. A large group of men ran past the cloister, closely followed by a handful of police with truncheons drawn. We ducked back inside and the curator locked the doors until the situation calmed down. It was all a little exciting really! - Though our guide advised us not to go into the square at night as there was every chance there would be groups meeting to discuss the political situation.
We were up at the crack of dawn next morning for our journey to the Colca Canyon and stopped on the outskirts of town to buy water and coca leaves, as we would be travelling to a highest point of 4,800 metres and chewing the coca leaves is said to be the best thing to combat the altitude, as it opens up the throat and lungs and helps you breathe more easily.
En route we stopped for a cup of coca tea (which tastes a little like green tea) and could by now just make out El Misti in the far distance, as the morning haze was clearing. When we reached the high point of 4,800 metres it was snowing! Very lightly, but snow nonetheless. This high point is a place people come to make wishes, as although the locals are Catholics, they still hang on to the old beliefs and still pay homage to mother earth etc, and the mountains were previously thought of as gods. To make their wishes they take a few rocks from nearby and arrange them into a small pile, then make their wish to the mountain. The area was covered in hundreds of small rock piles.
As the altitude was getting to us, we all decided to have a go at chewing the coca leaves. You take 5/6 leaves, fold them together, and then chew them for about thirty minutes. I made the fatal mistake of going at mine like chewing gum. The taste was OK at first, but once the leaves started to break up, the texture of them in my mouth was disgusting - my friend took a photo of my contorted face just before I had to give up and spit the stuff out! Maritza our guide was chewing them constantly throughout our 2 day excursion and I suggested to my friend that she was a bit of a "coke head"!
We had an overnight stay in the town of Chivay, and would be driving on to the Colca Canyon the following morning. We had seen from the Colca Lodge web page that the hotel was pretty spectacular, but it still had not prepared us for the fabulous view we had from the front door of our room. The hotel consists of a central main building, with individual rooms spread out along the edge of the river, with the sides of the valley rising up as a backdrop. It has its own natural hot springs directly alongside the river bed, with 3 pools of various temperatures, and there were bathrobes in our room so we could take advantage of them.
We were in the middle of nowhere, with no other buildings in sight, but in beautiful surroundings, with nothing but the sound of the river tumbling over rocks and the steam rising from the springs to disturb the late afternoon air. When we had absorbed as much of the tranquillity as we could, we retired to our room to relax before dinner.
Another crack of dawn start for our journey along the Colca valley to Cruz del Condor, with the hope that we would actually see some of these enormous birds in the canyon. We had been warned that this was not a good time of year to see them, as it is the time they migrate down to the south coast around Paracas, where it is the birthing season for the local sea lions, and the condors feast on any dead seal pups.
The views along the valley were stupendous, with the agricultural terraces which date back to Inca times creating a spectacular backdrop for our journey. We were at around 3,600m above sea level and Maritza our guide was still chewing steadily away at the coca leaves - no wonder she was a happy little soul!
The local Indians irrigate their terraces by taking advantage of the melting snows from the high mountains (as they are unable to make use of the River Colca, which flows through the valley below their terracing). Over the centuries extensive networks of ducts and channels have been constructed throughout the mountains, bringing the water to where it is needed.
They still live by a process of co-operation and exchange. They appoint someone as Manager of the irrigation systems, and the flow of water is controlled by a series of dams. It is decided that, say, on Mondays the water is directed towards 10 particular families' lands, on Tuesdays to another 10 families etc - thus making sure that all families within the valley receive adequate water to irrigate their crops. When maintenance work is required on the channels, or new routes need to be constructed, the local families work together and any payment for assistance given is in the form of produce rather than money. It seems like an excellent system, which dates back to Inca times (when "taxes" were paid to the rulers by way or man hours worked rather than financial payment - that's how places like Macchu Pichu were probably constructed) and in an ideal world, it would appear to be a very harmonious way to live ones life.
We left the bus behind for a forty minute walk to the main viewpoint. It was a spectacular, if exhausting walk along the edge of the canyon, but our gasping eased when we saw 3 condors circling over the viewpoint up ahead. We tried to increase our pace, but it was pretty hard going at this altitude. Just before we arrived at the main viewing area (where tourists were lined up with their cameras) one of the condors rose on the thermals and glided above our heads - a fabulous sight with its 3 metre wingspan.
By the time we reached the viewpoint ourselves, the condors were gone and we had to amuse ourselves by browsing the usual Indian market, which is inevitably set up at every tourist stopping point. The local women were there in their glorious costumes, which were full of intricate embroidery, and their delicately decorated hats. Kids, dressed up to the nines, sat around clutching lambs and baby llamas, just waiting for that "photo opportunity" which would result in them receiving a small tip for posing.
After lunch in Chivay, we re-traced our steps back to Arequipa, on the way back having a fabulous view of El Misti as the morning lists had cleared.
Although I am sure there is some kind of local bus service along these routes, we didn't see much evidence of it, so a tour is probably the best way; they are quite inexpensive and can be arranged in Arequipa.
