The windows are steamed up and in the dark there is nothing to see. I try to nap, making up for the 3:00 am pick up. I’ve been putting off going on this trip as I’ve been worried about the altitude. For a few days I’ve been at 2300m above sea level and feel breathless. I’m not sure what 4900m high is going to do to me.
I wipe off the condensation from the window, and peer out. I get a glimpse of the orange of the sun rising behind the mountains. All of a sudden I’m excited. The sky lightens and I can make out the mountains and the winding road that we are travelling on.
Just as I’m dozing again, I hear the girl behind me breathing very fast and then being sick. Altitude sickness. For once I’m not really very sympathetic. Maybe it’s because I’m glad it’s not me or because the sound and smell of someone vomiting makes me want to do the same.
Soon after this we arrive at the highest point. For the first time since setting off on my travels, it’s really cold. A lady on a stall holds up hats, gloves and jumpers. She puts them down in turn as I shake my head and put on my own things. I don’t know how they stand the cold up here everyday.
The views across the plains to the volcanoes surrounding the area, are stunning. The mountains border each side and the ground is bare and looks a bit like a lunar landscape. There are little pinnacles of rocks; I’m not sure whether they are natural or if people have balanced stones on top of each other.
I take a few photos but my hands are cold without my gloves – it’s hard to take photos with them on. I feel a little bit breathless but not too bad. I scurry back to the warmth of the bus.
Our drive continues along the windy mountain round, vegetation now covers the ground, at first in clumps and then in the form of agricultural terraces and fields. Taking photos from the bus is a bit frustrating due the reflection of the glass.
We stop at a little restaurant for breakfast. If you stand on the wall in the garden you can see one of the active volcanoes in the distance.
A little market town with a church is our next stop. We have a quick 10 minutes here to view the church and buy souvenirs
A valley is laid out beneath us at the next location We see the terraces again, balanced precariously on the jagged wedges of rock that protrude over river.
I try to take a selfie – I don’t think my arm is long enough and I usually don’t look my best!
Colca Canyon is the second deepest canyon in the world – there is one in Tibet that is deeper.
The guide points out two condors. I can’t see them and for a moment feel disappointed – that’s what we’ve come to see. Waiting for a few minutes, I catch sight of a pair flying far below. Trying to be patient, I stand by the barrier and watch. Then they are nearer, gliding on the thermals, around and up. I attempt to take photos on zoom but it’s hard when there is a moving target to catch; I manage to get a few good ones.
The condors then glide off down the valley. I walk to the viewing platform to see if there are any more. There are lots of other people there doing the same.
I wander back to my place by the barrier. I’m in luck. Another condor floats up and I get probably my best photograph.
I do wonder afterwards though, whether trying to take photos and get the perfect shot actually stops you from enjoying the moment that you are in.
Journeys with my pencil 