I was up at 08:00 hrs. for an overdue lukewarm shower. After breakfast I set off on a circuit of about seven kilometres which followed the line of a horseshoe of cliffs to the south of Huaráz. I walked up through the dust and pebble roads on the outskirts of town hoping that the people and dogs were friendly. They were.
My intention was to hike to Mirador Rataquena, the hill above town with the cross on top. I was looking for the cemetery from which the road/path/track wove up to the cross which overlooked the town. I could see the track above me and decided to cut up the hillside on some tiny trails which would intercept it.
I gained height, passing through some small farm holdings and got glimpses of the snow-capped mountains in the north and east through the thick white cloud. Once on the winding track the going got easier and I soon got to the big stone cross. There was a big derelict concrete building with great views over the valley. It was probably once a restaurant in a magnificent setting, but now it was just a deserted shell covered in graffiti.
I sat at the base of the cross and four holidaymakers from Lima appeared and took photographs of each other with a backdrop of Huaráz at the bottom of the valley behind them. From here the track wound further upwards and I was alone apart from the odd child perched on a rock minding a few goats, and the occasional woman in her black, flat-topped hat tending a small area of crops.
The snowy mountains of the Cordillera Blanca were occasionally revealed amongst the clouds above the green lower slopes. The Cordillera Blanca, in the heart of the tropical Andes is Peru's showpiece, a wonderland of ice-encrusted peaks glistening against the bright blue sky. This iced-draped world rivals the Himalayas in alpine grandeur.
Protected by the Huascarán National Park, this mountain range encompasses many of the highest peaks of the Andes; scarcely a corner of the park lacks a dramatic view of towering peaks, precipitous gorges, hundreds of colourful lakes, and abundant wildlife.
The Cordillera Blanca runs parallel to the Cordillera Negra, forming the impressive Callejón de Huaylas Valley. Here, the Andean mountains have nurtured 12,000 years of cultural development from Guitarrero Cave to the highly developed Chavín de Huántar Culture. Chavín's monumental granite truncated pyramids, complex bas-relief carved sculptures and very sophisticated astronomical and religious system influenced all posterior cultures up to the Inca civilization.
The rural descendants of this people have remained virtually untouched, and numerous archaeological remains will give the traveller an opportunity to gain insight into the cultural achievement of a glorious past. Ceremonial remains, and even mummies found in the top of snow-capped peaks, recognizes Peruvians as the oldest climbers recorded in the history of mountaineering.
I hoped that there wouldn’t be another earthquake like there was in 1970. The rocks didn’t look that stable and there was nowhere to run to from this narrow ridge. The 1970 Ancash earthquake occurred on the 31st May off the coast of Peru in the Pacific Ocean at 15:23:29 local time. Combined with a resultant landslide, it is the most catastrophic natural disaster in the history of Peru. Due to the large amounts of snow and ice included in the landslide that caused an estimate of 66,794 to 70,000 casualties, it is also considered to be the world's deadliest avalanche.
The trail eventually curved back down into the town. I walked past several more tenders of sheep, goats, pigs and cows, plus quite a few people of both sexes working in the fields. The gravelly path, which went steeply down, was treacherous in my almost tread-less training shoes, but I eventually reached the river where colourfully dressed Indians in black hats were beating their washing with clubs.
I passed the big walled cemetery and walked into town. Kids played all around, many with kites, who shouted “hello mister”, “gringo”, or simply ran indoors to hide. Many of the poorer houses were daubed with hammer and sickles and scruffy, poorly spelled Communist Party graffiti.
I was gasping for a drink as I had been walking from 09:45 hrs. to 14:00 hrs. almost non-stop, so I went for a Coca Cola in a café which was full of beer drinkers whiling away the siesta period. I got a Menú for 40 Intis in the town centre and returned to my room where I crashed out for a couple of hours.
Later, at 16:00 hrs. I got some shopping, including a small bottle of Pisco for later. I was still tired. This was probably due to the altitude as the path took me up to 3,500 metres above sea level. At the Edwards Inn I asked if they had any Coca Cola. They didn’t but the receptionist sent a kid out to buy one for me, in the pissing rain.
As soon as I started my Peruvian drinking experience other guests popped into the Common Room asking if they could get Coca Cola. You can also get Inca Kola (yellow cream soda) and Kola Ingleses (Tizer) in Peru. Tizer is a red-coloured, citrus-flavoured soft drink bottled in Cumbernauld and sold in the United Kingdom. The name originally comes from the phrase "Tizer the Appetizer". It was launched in 1924 by Fred and Tom Pickup of Pudsey when it was known as "Pickup's Appetizer", and is the offspring of Vimto and Irn-Bru.
I retired to my room until the rain stopped. The radio played “Electricity” and “Enola Gay” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD). Great stuff. It was dark when I went back out at 19:00 hrs. I walked down to the main road and got talking to two young boys, one of whom had a brother who was a student in Croydon.
They took me to two recommended restaurants. One was a pizza place and opposite, a chicken place just south of the Plaza de Armas. Before eating I walked the length of Luzuriaga where the local Indians sold knitwear and bread. There were very few other gringos about, so I returned alone to the upstairs chicken restaurant opposite Mamma Mia’s Pizzeria.
This seemed a pleasant place popular with locals for an evening out. I ordered a beer and waited ages for my Pollo Dorado (golden chicken). When it arrived, it was cooked to a crisp on the outside and raw, dripping blood on the inside. I persuaded the waiter to bung it back into the deep fat fryer.
I went on to check out the Pacccak Pub again, but it was closed as usual. I returned to my room, passing the line of blue wooden box-like trollies which vended a mysterious hot drink in a variety of colours and flavours. It may have been Peruvian emoliente tea, a special powerful beverage prepared with different herbs.
Back in my room I read my book, listened to the radio and polished off my quarter bottle of Pisco with coke. I removed the label from the bottle and stuck it in my log book. It revealed it to be Pisco Puro Superior de los Reyes, 42% abv. Elaborado por Bedega “Santa Rosa” S.C.R.L. para ROCSA.
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