The following article appeared in the TNT magazine, to subscribe click on the banner.
The author travelled with Oasis on Peru Encompassed in July 2002
The stunning Colca Canyon is home to ancient Andean people and around 45 majestic condors. GRANT QUARRY toughed out high altitudes and travellers with stomach complaints to get there.
I stood in awe as the graceful condor wheeled overhead, gently drifting on the warm thermals blowing up from the canyon below and then down to where its three-and-a-half metre wing span almost seemed to brush my nose, just 20 or so metres above my head. Though I was surrounded by more than 200 onlookers, snapping away prodigiously, nothing could draw my gaze from this awesome creature..
Not a word was uttered as first just one, then two, then eight and finally 18 of these huge birds circled overhead, as fascinated by us as we were by them. Their little turkey-like heads looked out of place on their massive bodies as they stared casually, if inquisitively, at this colourful assortment of characters perched atop the canyon for the briefest of looks at the largest flying bird in the world.
So focused was I on the impromptu display, I completely forgot to get a picture myself but, needless to say, the image has been implanted in my memory for all time.
Two days previously we'd arrived in Arequipa where we'd checked in to our hotel, the charmingly named Residencial La Casa De Mi Abuela (or 'My Grandma's House), and had then ventured out to explore 'the White City'. It's called that because 60% of the population is Spanish and because many of the buildings have been constructed using local white volcanic rock. It's a lively city, nestled at the foot of the imposing Misty Mountain, a spectacular white-capped mountain backdrop.
The city is home to Juanita, the Ice Maiden, a 500-year-old little girl immortalised by National Geographic and found inside Ampato Volcano (6380m) in 1995 by Dr Johan Reinhard. Aged 12-14 when she died, she was offered to Apu Ampato by Inca priests and her discovery resulted from the eruption fo the nearby Sabancaya Volcano. At the Universidad Cata you can see first hand the wee Inca girl, preserved so spectacularly, she almost appears to be alive.
After an afternoon acclimatising to the altitude and exploring the city, it was an early night after a few beers in anticipation of the next few day's Colca Canyon adventure.
Our five-hour bus trip to the canyon must rate up there as one of the bumpiest of all time. Only a few of the ladies had packed their sports bras, and they were glad they had. Unfortunately, one of our passengers, Les, a sports trainer from London had developed a rather nasty stomach complaint and each dreaded pot-hole seemed to trigger his noxious gas at an alarming rate. Luckily the scenery was a mind-blowing distraction -- with massive Andean mountains rising on all sides and every so often llamas, alpacas and vicu𠱠to take our minds off the bone-jarring ride and gagging stench.
As we wound our way up to the Salina and Aguada Blanca National Reserve, along dusty unsealed roads without any barriers and sheer 500-600m drops, Marilus, our guide, explained the importance of these weird local animals, and that the vicu🦳 coat is considered to be the best natural fibre in the world -- with a single poncho made of the stuff retailing for a cool US$1600.
Finally we reached the charming little village of Chivay, our home for the next few days. The village is wonderful, with markets and old Spanish-style buildings and churches, and is surrounded on all sides by jagged teeth-like peaks. Although we climbed to 5000m at times on the journey, the village is at just 3650m. However, it's still very difficult to get used to and breathing quickly, deeply and often is unavoidable.
A few of us decided to catch a bus to another of the canyon's enlightening attractions -- the hot springs. These are quite simply sensational. Outdoors and modern, clean and well constructed, we lazed in one of the 25m by 20m pools under a blinding Milky Way in bath-temperature, gently bubbling water and slurped on our Pisco Sour cocktails, one of Peru's most popular drinks. After two-and-a-half hours, my head was giddy with a combination of altitude sickness and excess Pisco Sour and it was time to get out.
Bright and early next morning (5am) we headed up into Colca Canyon, the second deepest canyon in the world at 3400m (Cotahuasy Canyon, north of Arequipa, is the deepest at 3565m). Carved over aeons by the Colca River, it stretches west about 60km from Chivy to Cabanaconde.
I have never seen anything like this place. The walls of the canyon are a bright, pool table green in parts, and brown and golden in others. The entire canyon wall opposite us appears terraced from the canyon floor to the snowy tops, giving the impression of massive grandstands where ancient giants would come to watch boat races in the river and wager bets.
The mountains surrounding us were breathtaking. The local Andean people, the Collaguas, have lived here for around 2000 years and they still live a principally agricultural existence, chewing coca leaves as they work for energy and to allay thirst and hunger, and harvesting corn (maize), potato, wheat, barley, quinua, kiwicha, olluco and mashua.
Before long we rolled into Maca, a village completely destroyed by an earthquake in 1991 which has since been rebuilt with government loans by locals determined not to be broken by nature's sometimes ill temper. On the steep, menacing hillside behind the village, massive cracks and lines are sobering reminder of the area's tenuous grip on normality.
We stopped for a drink and to wander the small stalls outside the town church, and I drawn to pose with a magnificent hawks and a few colourful locals. The hawks' weight and striking features dazzled me momentarily, but later I regretted encouraging the captivity of such a proud, wild and beautiful bird.
Just 30 minutes later we were at the lofty home of the condors. As we arrived, a few glided by, just 100 metres away, dipping slightly to continue patrolling the gnarly cliff face. A group of 40-45 live here and cruise the area most mornings in search of dead animals on which to feed. They feed mostly on dead carrion, baby llamas and other small animals. It was soon after that our special show came and went in a heartbeat. Marilus told me later that we were lucky to have witnessed such a scene and that clusters of more than 12 or so condors only appear once or twice a year.
Later we walked along a dusty track to take in a few more cracking Colca views, reluctant to leave this blessed place. The river far below could just be made out and a French backpacker I'd met told me he'd once spent a magical night on the canyon floor. But we were soon to be in a bus bouncing our way back to Arequipa. Ah, if only I had wings --and a gas mask.
I stood in awe as the graceful condor wheeled overhead, gently drifting on the warm thermals blowing up from the canyon below and then down to where its three-and-a-half metre wing span almost seemed to brush my nose, just 20 or so metres above my head. Though I was surrounded by more than 200 onlookers, snapping away prodigiously, nothing could draw my gaze from this awesome creature..
After an afternoon acclimatising to the altitude and exploring the city, it was an early night after a few beers in anticipation of the next few day's Colca Canyon adventure.
As we wound our way up to the Salina and Aguada Blanca National Reserve, along dusty unsealed roads without any barriers and sheer 500-600m drops, Marilus, our guide, explained the importance of these weird local animals, and that the vicu🦳 coat is considered to be the best natural fibre in the world -- with a single poncho made of the stuff retailing for a cool US$1600.
I have never seen anything like this place. The walls of the canyon are a bright, pool table green in parts, and brown and golden in others. The entire canyon wall opposite us appears terraced from the canyon floor to the snowy tops, giving the impression of massive grandstands where ancient giants would come to watch boat races in the river and wager bets.
Just 30 minutes later we were at the lofty home of the condors. As we arrived, a few glided by, just 100 metres away, dipping slightly to continue patrolling the gnarly cliff face. A group of 40-45 live here and cruise the area most mornings in search of dead animals on which to feed. They feed mostly on dead carrion, baby llamas and other small animals. It was soon after that our special show came and went in a heartbeat. Marilus told me later that we were lucky to have witnessed such a scene and that clusters of more than 12 or so condors only appear once or twice a year.