Location: Copacobana, the shores of Lake Titicaca, Bolivia
Lima, the Nazca Lines, Cusco and Machu Picchu
The whole hostage thing was a few weeks ago now, and I´ve been a bit slow in commenting on what has happened sicne. But here it is.
We didn´t see much of Lima, since we spent a fair amount of time in police stations and at the Amex office. (Don´t believe the adverts of the smiling family who had their traveller´s cheques replaced in 24 hours with no stress!) Fortunately Amex came through in the end and replaced all the losses. Central Lima seems very oppressive, a bit aggressive, and slightly lacking in charm. But that is the view from a taxi between police stations. There are some lovely colonial buildings etc, but we didn´t see them. We also missed all the good museums.
We stayed in a suburb called Barranco, which used to be a separate seaside resort until it was engulfed by Lima. Charming old colonial architecture, nice restaurants, less of the hustle of the big city, definitely a good recommendation from fellow our hostage, the doctor who lives in Barranco. Miraflores is where a lot of the tourists stay, but it is a modern suburb lacking in charm or personality.
After a few days we headed off to Nazca, about 6 hours south of Lima. About 1 hour out of Lima we saw a big bus crash, 2 buses had collided almost head on. In each bus, about the front 70% of the seats on one side of the aisle had been completely obliterated. No trace left. The crash happened about 7 hours before we passed through in heavy early morning fog. It really was truely horrific. On the evening news we saw that there were 36 fatalities, and more injured. It was reassuring in some ways that this featured as a leading story, emphasising that although there are a lot of accidents here ones on this scale are newsworthy and hence rare.
In Nazca we took a flight over the famous Nazca Lines. This was one of the highlights of the 2 1/2 months so far. The lines are truely remarkable. The scale is staggering, both of each individual design and the area over which they can be seen. Still nobody knows quite why there were made, what they signify, or even when they were made (at least not that precisely). Absolutely fascinating. Any trip to Peru just to go to Machu Picchu would be incomplete without a trip to Nazca.
Also in Nazca we had a trip to a pre-Inca cemetary. Most of the region has suffered from grave robbing over the years. However, there are some reconstructed graves, complete with mummified bodies. Quite interesting, but not worth a trip to Nazca alone for.
After a trip back to Lima, through the early morning fog, we had an evening to relax before flying to Cusco. One of the national airlines (not ours) was suspended the day before, so it was a bit manic at the airport. Cusco is a very attractive city, many squares surrounded by collonades and imposing churches. But also very touristy, as you would expect for the starting point for all things related to Machu Picchu. A pleasant place to relax for a few few days, although a spot of food poisoning was unwelcome.
We saw a few museums and sites (though the "10-day Cusco museum ticket" didn´t seem to include any of the decent sites we wanted to see). There was one museum of pre-Colombian art that had an amazing collection of ceramics, wooden objects and gold and silver. Sadly though it was set out more as an art gallery than a museum, so there was little historical information to put items in context. There was a load of pretentious twaddle, of the type found in Tate Modern, about the artist engaging the viewer, creating pieces that transcend time, using the space of the sculpture... etc etc. Interesting artefacts spoilt by art critic nonsense.
We didn´t manage to organise a trek on the Inca trail to Machu Picchu, even though we tried about 5-6 weeks in advance. Recent changes to the rules have made the waiting list longer and it harder to arrange. So we took the train, with all the fat Americans and other disappointed backpackers. Before going to the site itself we climbed a nearby hill for a view of the ruins from a distance. Spectacular. This walk (only about 1.5 hours) doesn´t seem to be in any of the book but the tourist office in Agua Calientes can tell you where to go.
The following day we spent about 5 huors at the site, wandering around. The setting is stunning, and the size of the ruins is also impressive. Having heard so many people rave about it over the years I was prepared to be a bit underwhelmed and disappointed, but it is really impressive. (Not as impressive as Pompeii in my opinion though.) Luckily by getting there very early it was not too busy, which was a concern since this is peak season. Sadly we only have a cheapish camera to last us until we get to the US and can replace our stolen stuff at a reasonable cost, so the photos may not be as good as they would have been. Never mind.
Then from Cusco we toojk the train to Puno. A big mistake, since the bus is much quicker, but interesting nonetheless. After 10 hours (for what is only about 300km) we got to Puno on the shore of Titicaca, a sprawling mass. No intention of staying there, and we came to Copacobana, just over the Bolivian border, today. The views of Lake Titicaca are beautiful. Yet another place that feature in geography lessons, and yet here we are.
In May 2004 Phillippa and I resigned from our jobs to set off on a year long grand tour. This will be updated sporadically and will serve as a permanent record of what should be an extremely memorable year. Of course, it also keeps us in touch with those of you back in the UK, and enables you to follow our progress.
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Thursday, July 22, 2004
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Kidnapped
Location: Cusco, Peru
In which we are taken at gunpoint, asked for $50,000 and held for about 5 hours before being released.
The previous post on the first 5 days of our trek failed to mention the 2 Brits who joined us at the start in Llamac: Rod, working as a doctor in Lima, so speaks good Spanish, which later was to prove invaluable; Paul, out visiting his mate from school days, a lecturer in Philosophy. Very friendly, affable and interesting.
We all got on extremely well and enjoyed their company, although during the day they tended to be a bit ahead of us, or off on a bit of extra curricular, off-route hill climbing. Sadly the cold prevented us from sitting out in the evenings. No stereotypical chatting round a campfire. Once the sun goes down, about 6:20, the temperature drops quite quickly. So although it`s too early to go to bed, it`s also too cold not to. So sleeping bags by 6:30 every night.
On the morning of the 6th day, whilst packing up the kit, the other two were approached and asked for a fee, since they had been protected the night before by this bloke in a house 50m away. We weren`t asked, and it may be that this was a payment to cover the cost of the booze drunk by the guides and donkey-boys the previous evening.
It was another cold night, lots of frost on the ground and tent. It started snowing as we left, and got heavier the higher we went. As we stopped for a break mid-morning we also had a snowball fight.
Not long after continuing on after the snowball fight, the action started. A bloke with a balaclava and a .22 rifle appeared, from nowhere, and started letting of rounds. In fact Phillippa got a small wound in her arm from what we think must have been a piece of rock. Not quite a bullet wound, but real nonetheless, but not serious. Phillippa and I were at the back and we hadn`t heard any gunfire before, or seen anything untoward. Though, towards the top of a 4,800m pass you tend to look less at the surroundings and more at your feet, as you plod on upwards.
I automatically assumed that this was nothing to do with us, and even said good afternoon to him. After all, there´s no reason for a British chap to forget that good manners count when abroad. I thought maybe he was out nicking sheep or cows, but you probably don`t need a balaclava to hide your identity from a sheep. He was gesturing up towards to top of the pass, where we were heading anyway, so I plodded on. Rounding a large rock I saw Rod sitting on the floor, with another bandit by him. Even then I still had to ask what was going on, "I think we`re being mugged".
Great. So us 4 Brits are herded up to a point that is slightly higher than the pass itself. We can see the locals who were travelling with us ahead, and they have their hands tied behind their backs. When we get to a small encampment, we can see that our guide has blood from his nose and has clearly had a bit of a beating.
We then spend about 40 mins sitting down outside, still with rucksacks on and all just looking at our feet. Partly not to antagonise them and also to avoid seeing anything particularly nasty, if they start on the guides again. Which I don`t think they did at that point.
It`s difficult to quite believe what is going on, it`s one of those situations that your brain is so unprepared for that you wonder whether it is actually occuring. The bandits seem quite civil, making the whole experience rather surreal. They moved us, whilst we were outside, to suggest we sit on a drier area.
We were then moved to a large tent, where we met a couple of other Brits, Michelle and Thomas, who had been taken about 45 mins before us. The guides and donkey-boys were being held elsewhere and we had no real idea of what was happening to them.
They then offered us lunch and asked if we would prefer soup or pasta. Very civilised. And after soup and tea, the big cheese came over and spoke with Rod, whose Spanish was at this point fairly crucial to the group as a whole.
They wanted $50,000 and although I think Rod quickly said that was impossible, we were given 30 minutes to discuss it together. There is a commonly held belief in parts of South America that foreign tourists are not just just richer than they are (which of course we are) but that we are absolutely dripping with money. We all pooled the cash we had, which didn`t amount to much. Michelle had about 20p in Vietnamese Dong, which we explained was about $100, which helped to up the total.
The amount offered, which was probably about $350, was deemed to be an insult. At this point I thought they might take one of us outside for a pasting, to show how serious they were. They wanted to know why we didn`t have more, where we were all going next and how we would manage to get there. They didn`t seem to understand that cash has limited value on an 8-day mountain trek, and that the odd fresh fish and a tip for the guides was all the cash we needed. They seemed to believe that our entire trip was funded by cash, although we tried to explain that tourists are aware of the dangers of being robbed and so carry little cash.
Throughout Rod had been at pains to explain that we would help in any way we could. We had already mentioned expensive items that they could have but they didn´t really seem that interested.
They had already started talking about whether we could spend the night here, at about 4,850m. The guide with us had suggested that it would be too high and hence too cold. We were keen to move, even if it still meant spending the night with our captors. But clearly, an overnight stay suggests a longer term problem. If all they want is our stuff then they don`t need us overnight for that.
We saw 4 of them, but they claimed to be a group of 10.
The bandits did know of a larger group that were 1 day behind us, and we also told them about this group. We think maybe we their plan was to hold us so we couldn`t warn them, and they would be grabbed in a similar way the following day.
We talked to them about credit cards, but told a little white lie about only being able to get $100 per day, per person. And of course this involves a trip to a town, a couple of days away. They didn`t seem to believe that we couldn`t just get $50,000 on a credit card very easily, so we had to explain that the card companies have limits in the event of loss or theft, to prevent robbers taking too much from them!
They then seemed interested in all the stuff in our daypacks. So one by one we were taken from the tent and were body searched, though in a farily amateur fashion. At this point I lost a few things, most importantly a Swiss penknife that was a present from some ex-colleagues at SG. They then went through the rucksack. I had already removed the memory card as soon as we were first placed in the tent. But actually they asked everybody to remove film or memory cards, not sure whether this was a concession so we at least had some photos of the trip. So then went the camera, which was also partly funded by some contributions from ex-colleagues.
When Michelle`s turn came they found an old $10 bill than was in an obscure pocket and had been through the wash numerous times, and they weren`t happy that this had been held from them, although we couldn`t see what was going on. At this point we started thinking about a small amount of cash we had in our main bag, carried on the donkey, and presumably already being searched by one of the bandits. We also had quite a sizable amount of travellers cheques, and it was a dilemma whether to declare these or not.
We`ve since met up with all 4 of our fellow hostages, and they`ve all asked why we didn`t. With hindsight, given the replaceable nature of them, it perhaps seems obvious that we should have offerred them up, especially given the amounts concerned. But, given they were not interested in credit cards and they had already claimed to only live in the mountains Amex travellers cheques are of limited use. Yes, there probably is a market for them, but I was prepared to tell them I thought that they would have not value for them.
We were all asked the size of our boots, but I think all the men had sizes too big and some sense of fair play stopped them from taking boots off the girls, they knew none of us has spare footware.
On a few occasions they "reassured" us by telling us that nobody was going to get killed. These are not the kind of people you can necessary believe though! Although this had clearly gone through my mind, I never saw it as a serious threat, or likely possibility. It was merely theoretical in the way that them giving back my camera remained a possibility. But the fact that they wished to say it wouldn`t happen clearly meant that it was on their minds as an option. Although I never saw this as an eventuality, having spoken to the others since, it appears that this was a much more real threat for them.
We then had a question and answer session, mainly on people`s backgrounds, jobs ie wealth and status. We reverted to being students again, and everyone else downsized their jobs accordingly. Working for any kind of bank was not the answer to give, even if they had understood the idea of an international investment bank. And what did our parents do? Well, funnily enough, most people`s parents ended up being teachers or otherwise connected with education.
We were then rounded up for a group photo. Maybe they have a HQ with a rogues gallery of tourists on the wall of the bosses office. They told us that as they now had our photos they could track us down in Bolivia, Peru, Colombia. On the way out I think most of us had the thought, though for me very fleeting, that maybe this was going to be a line up similar to the one at the end of The Great Escape, when the escapees are let out of the back of the truck for a stretch and then gunned down. But it was just a photo, 2 in fact. For some bizarre reason most of us were smiling like we would for any other holiday photo, but better to play along rather than some defiant gesture to camera.
And then, fairly quickly, it was clear that we were going to be released. So no overnight stay. The locals had packed up the stuff, the donkeys were loaded, and whilst being watched from the hills, we were allowed over the pass to continue on our way.
The relief was, of course, huge, but there was no looking back, just keep walking. After a couple of hours, and the last 20 minutes in the dark, we reached a place where we thought of camping. We stopped to see what other stuff they had taken from the main bag: a couple of pairs of trekking trousers, decent walking socks. And rather oddly my swimming trunks. We had thought about just walking through the night, since we`d lost sleeping bags and mats etc... In the end we stayed, and that was a good decision, even though it was a very cold night.
We found out that our guide and arerio had been given quite serious beatings and both had, at some point, really thought they were going to die. Luckily for the tourists, we didn`t get this treatment.
Then about 8 hours the following day, with our big bag, Rod & Paul had their main bags too, (though of course without our small rucksacks!). We finally reached Cajatamba late afternoon after a very draining day since we`d not eaten well for a couple of days. Luckily we were saved by having some dollar notes in clingfilm under the inner sole in my boot, and some in Phillippa´s boot too. We were fairly sure that this wouldn`t be found, and was too valuable to give up. This let us get a hotel, meal, and bus out of their the next day. We had thought about trying to get a pickup truck to take us to a town, but it was rainign and bouncing around in the back of a truck for many hours all night was losing it`s appeal the longer we had to wait for the bloke we had been negotiating with. Rod & Paul did in the end take the truck, but only got to the town at 2am. They also came across a traffic accident and, being a doctor, Rod was requiredto help certify the dead etc... A ghastly end to a ghastly couple of days for them.
We finally got to Lima the evening of the day after the long walk back to civilisation.
We have since found out that after we were released, the bandits rushed off down the other side of the hill and dragged about 15 tourists from tents and took stuff from them over the course of about 90 minutes.
We went to the British Embassy in Lima and they took it quite seriously. They have not been reports of such trouble in the region for a couple of years. In fact the UK Foreign & Commenwealth Office have updated their travel advice as follows.
There have been reports of two armed hold-ups in the Huaraz area in early July. There occurred on the Huayhuash trekking circuit approximately six days travel from Huaraz. Six British nationals were involved in one incident. You should exercise caution when travelling along this route and check with your guide/organisers before setting out.
Sadly a trip to the Embassy wasn`t quite as I`d been led to believe from watching too many James Bond films. The Deputy Head of Mission even has to make his own coffee. I first asked for a tea, that seemed more British somehow, but was going to be more hassle than just an instant coffee. The odd picture of HM ERII dotted around, but far from lavish surroundings, just like any office really, with extreme security.
And that is the tale of our kidnapping. We are both entirely unhurt, as are the other 4 Brits. Pretty shaken by the whole thing, but things are getting back to normal now. The trip goes on, and this whole episode will just become a pub anecdote.
Bet your glad you`re stuck at a desk reading this rather than living it!
In which we are taken at gunpoint, asked for $50,000 and held for about 5 hours before being released.
The previous post on the first 5 days of our trek failed to mention the 2 Brits who joined us at the start in Llamac: Rod, working as a doctor in Lima, so speaks good Spanish, which later was to prove invaluable; Paul, out visiting his mate from school days, a lecturer in Philosophy. Very friendly, affable and interesting.
We all got on extremely well and enjoyed their company, although during the day they tended to be a bit ahead of us, or off on a bit of extra curricular, off-route hill climbing. Sadly the cold prevented us from sitting out in the evenings. No stereotypical chatting round a campfire. Once the sun goes down, about 6:20, the temperature drops quite quickly. So although it`s too early to go to bed, it`s also too cold not to. So sleeping bags by 6:30 every night.
On the morning of the 6th day, whilst packing up the kit, the other two were approached and asked for a fee, since they had been protected the night before by this bloke in a house 50m away. We weren`t asked, and it may be that this was a payment to cover the cost of the booze drunk by the guides and donkey-boys the previous evening.
It was another cold night, lots of frost on the ground and tent. It started snowing as we left, and got heavier the higher we went. As we stopped for a break mid-morning we also had a snowball fight.
Not long after continuing on after the snowball fight, the action started. A bloke with a balaclava and a .22 rifle appeared, from nowhere, and started letting of rounds. In fact Phillippa got a small wound in her arm from what we think must have been a piece of rock. Not quite a bullet wound, but real nonetheless, but not serious. Phillippa and I were at the back and we hadn`t heard any gunfire before, or seen anything untoward. Though, towards the top of a 4,800m pass you tend to look less at the surroundings and more at your feet, as you plod on upwards.
I automatically assumed that this was nothing to do with us, and even said good afternoon to him. After all, there´s no reason for a British chap to forget that good manners count when abroad. I thought maybe he was out nicking sheep or cows, but you probably don`t need a balaclava to hide your identity from a sheep. He was gesturing up towards to top of the pass, where we were heading anyway, so I plodded on. Rounding a large rock I saw Rod sitting on the floor, with another bandit by him. Even then I still had to ask what was going on, "I think we`re being mugged".
Great. So us 4 Brits are herded up to a point that is slightly higher than the pass itself. We can see the locals who were travelling with us ahead, and they have their hands tied behind their backs. When we get to a small encampment, we can see that our guide has blood from his nose and has clearly had a bit of a beating.
We then spend about 40 mins sitting down outside, still with rucksacks on and all just looking at our feet. Partly not to antagonise them and also to avoid seeing anything particularly nasty, if they start on the guides again. Which I don`t think they did at that point.
It`s difficult to quite believe what is going on, it`s one of those situations that your brain is so unprepared for that you wonder whether it is actually occuring. The bandits seem quite civil, making the whole experience rather surreal. They moved us, whilst we were outside, to suggest we sit on a drier area.
We were then moved to a large tent, where we met a couple of other Brits, Michelle and Thomas, who had been taken about 45 mins before us. The guides and donkey-boys were being held elsewhere and we had no real idea of what was happening to them.
They then offered us lunch and asked if we would prefer soup or pasta. Very civilised. And after soup and tea, the big cheese came over and spoke with Rod, whose Spanish was at this point fairly crucial to the group as a whole.
They wanted $50,000 and although I think Rod quickly said that was impossible, we were given 30 minutes to discuss it together. There is a commonly held belief in parts of South America that foreign tourists are not just just richer than they are (which of course we are) but that we are absolutely dripping with money. We all pooled the cash we had, which didn`t amount to much. Michelle had about 20p in Vietnamese Dong, which we explained was about $100, which helped to up the total.
The amount offered, which was probably about $350, was deemed to be an insult. At this point I thought they might take one of us outside for a pasting, to show how serious they were. They wanted to know why we didn`t have more, where we were all going next and how we would manage to get there. They didn`t seem to understand that cash has limited value on an 8-day mountain trek, and that the odd fresh fish and a tip for the guides was all the cash we needed. They seemed to believe that our entire trip was funded by cash, although we tried to explain that tourists are aware of the dangers of being robbed and so carry little cash.
Throughout Rod had been at pains to explain that we would help in any way we could. We had already mentioned expensive items that they could have but they didn´t really seem that interested.
They had already started talking about whether we could spend the night here, at about 4,850m. The guide with us had suggested that it would be too high and hence too cold. We were keen to move, even if it still meant spending the night with our captors. But clearly, an overnight stay suggests a longer term problem. If all they want is our stuff then they don`t need us overnight for that.
We saw 4 of them, but they claimed to be a group of 10.
The bandits did know of a larger group that were 1 day behind us, and we also told them about this group. We think maybe we their plan was to hold us so we couldn`t warn them, and they would be grabbed in a similar way the following day.
We talked to them about credit cards, but told a little white lie about only being able to get $100 per day, per person. And of course this involves a trip to a town, a couple of days away. They didn`t seem to believe that we couldn`t just get $50,000 on a credit card very easily, so we had to explain that the card companies have limits in the event of loss or theft, to prevent robbers taking too much from them!
They then seemed interested in all the stuff in our daypacks. So one by one we were taken from the tent and were body searched, though in a farily amateur fashion. At this point I lost a few things, most importantly a Swiss penknife that was a present from some ex-colleagues at SG. They then went through the rucksack. I had already removed the memory card as soon as we were first placed in the tent. But actually they asked everybody to remove film or memory cards, not sure whether this was a concession so we at least had some photos of the trip. So then went the camera, which was also partly funded by some contributions from ex-colleagues.
When Michelle`s turn came they found an old $10 bill than was in an obscure pocket and had been through the wash numerous times, and they weren`t happy that this had been held from them, although we couldn`t see what was going on. At this point we started thinking about a small amount of cash we had in our main bag, carried on the donkey, and presumably already being searched by one of the bandits. We also had quite a sizable amount of travellers cheques, and it was a dilemma whether to declare these or not.
We`ve since met up with all 4 of our fellow hostages, and they`ve all asked why we didn`t. With hindsight, given the replaceable nature of them, it perhaps seems obvious that we should have offerred them up, especially given the amounts concerned. But, given they were not interested in credit cards and they had already claimed to only live in the mountains Amex travellers cheques are of limited use. Yes, there probably is a market for them, but I was prepared to tell them I thought that they would have not value for them.
We were all asked the size of our boots, but I think all the men had sizes too big and some sense of fair play stopped them from taking boots off the girls, they knew none of us has spare footware.
On a few occasions they "reassured" us by telling us that nobody was going to get killed. These are not the kind of people you can necessary believe though! Although this had clearly gone through my mind, I never saw it as a serious threat, or likely possibility. It was merely theoretical in the way that them giving back my camera remained a possibility. But the fact that they wished to say it wouldn`t happen clearly meant that it was on their minds as an option. Although I never saw this as an eventuality, having spoken to the others since, it appears that this was a much more real threat for them.
We then had a question and answer session, mainly on people`s backgrounds, jobs ie wealth and status. We reverted to being students again, and everyone else downsized their jobs accordingly. Working for any kind of bank was not the answer to give, even if they had understood the idea of an international investment bank. And what did our parents do? Well, funnily enough, most people`s parents ended up being teachers or otherwise connected with education.
We were then rounded up for a group photo. Maybe they have a HQ with a rogues gallery of tourists on the wall of the bosses office. They told us that as they now had our photos they could track us down in Bolivia, Peru, Colombia. On the way out I think most of us had the thought, though for me very fleeting, that maybe this was going to be a line up similar to the one at the end of The Great Escape, when the escapees are let out of the back of the truck for a stretch and then gunned down. But it was just a photo, 2 in fact. For some bizarre reason most of us were smiling like we would for any other holiday photo, but better to play along rather than some defiant gesture to camera.
And then, fairly quickly, it was clear that we were going to be released. So no overnight stay. The locals had packed up the stuff, the donkeys were loaded, and whilst being watched from the hills, we were allowed over the pass to continue on our way.
The relief was, of course, huge, but there was no looking back, just keep walking. After a couple of hours, and the last 20 minutes in the dark, we reached a place where we thought of camping. We stopped to see what other stuff they had taken from the main bag: a couple of pairs of trekking trousers, decent walking socks. And rather oddly my swimming trunks. We had thought about just walking through the night, since we`d lost sleeping bags and mats etc... In the end we stayed, and that was a good decision, even though it was a very cold night.
We found out that our guide and arerio had been given quite serious beatings and both had, at some point, really thought they were going to die. Luckily for the tourists, we didn`t get this treatment.
Then about 8 hours the following day, with our big bag, Rod & Paul had their main bags too, (though of course without our small rucksacks!). We finally reached Cajatamba late afternoon after a very draining day since we`d not eaten well for a couple of days. Luckily we were saved by having some dollar notes in clingfilm under the inner sole in my boot, and some in Phillippa´s boot too. We were fairly sure that this wouldn`t be found, and was too valuable to give up. This let us get a hotel, meal, and bus out of their the next day. We had thought about trying to get a pickup truck to take us to a town, but it was rainign and bouncing around in the back of a truck for many hours all night was losing it`s appeal the longer we had to wait for the bloke we had been negotiating with. Rod & Paul did in the end take the truck, but only got to the town at 2am. They also came across a traffic accident and, being a doctor, Rod was requiredto help certify the dead etc... A ghastly end to a ghastly couple of days for them.
We finally got to Lima the evening of the day after the long walk back to civilisation.
We have since found out that after we were released, the bandits rushed off down the other side of the hill and dragged about 15 tourists from tents and took stuff from them over the course of about 90 minutes.
We went to the British Embassy in Lima and they took it quite seriously. They have not been reports of such trouble in the region for a couple of years. In fact the UK Foreign & Commenwealth Office have updated their travel advice as follows.
There have been reports of two armed hold-ups in the Huaraz area in early July. There occurred on the Huayhuash trekking circuit approximately six days travel from Huaraz. Six British nationals were involved in one incident. You should exercise caution when travelling along this route and check with your guide/organisers before setting out.
Sadly a trip to the Embassy wasn`t quite as I`d been led to believe from watching too many James Bond films. The Deputy Head of Mission even has to make his own coffee. I first asked for a tea, that seemed more British somehow, but was going to be more hassle than just an instant coffee. The odd picture of HM ERII dotted around, but far from lavish surroundings, just like any office really, with extreme security.
And that is the tale of our kidnapping. We are both entirely unhurt, as are the other 4 Brits. Pretty shaken by the whole thing, but things are getting back to normal now. The trip goes on, and this whole episode will just become a pub anecdote.
Bet your glad you`re stuck at a desk reading this rather than living it!
Monday, July 12, 2004
Touching the Void
Location: Lima, Peru
Some notes on our trek in the Andes.
Almost immediately after our trip to Chavin, we set off on our Andean adventure. For those of you that haven´t either read the book by Joe Simpson, or seen the Bafta award-winning film, Touching the Void then I suggest you do so. Even for people with no interest in mountaineering, it is a gripping tale of human endurance in the face of enourmous adversity. And it all takes place in the mountains where we have just been.
After a 5am bus from Huaraz, we had to change in some small village after a few hours. A bloke was working on the reaer right wheels, I think he was changing them round. After nearly 90mins of hanging around we were off again. About a further 90mins into the trip, in the middle of nowehere, disaster struck. The wheels literally fell off the bus. The bolts on both rear right wheels had sheared off, and with a clunk, the outer wheel went first. Luckily we were going uphill, slowly round a hairpin, at the time.
So we´re stuck in a valley, about 40min drive from our destination. The driver of the bus heads off to get help, and the rest of us can only wait. About 2 hours later he was back with a minibus. The original plan was to load on all the heavy bags, provisions, food, gas etc, so that we could at least start walking with the daypacks we each had. Unfortunately, about 3 Israelis decided they must get on the bus, meaning that there was not wnough room for all the kit. So all the rest of us (about 15) had to wait for the bus to return. It must be a burden being God´s chosen children at times, though with the knowledge that you are more important than everyone else it certainly helps make their time in this life a bit easier.
So we get to Llamac, a small village, about 4 hours after we had planned to. There´s not enough time to get to the intended place to camp, so we walk for just 3 hours, up from 3,200m to about 4,100m.
The daily routine is broadly: 1 pass per day, normally 6 hours walking, though the second day we were trying to make up lost time and did about 7.5 hours with only avery short stop for lunch. Usually we camp about 4,000m, sometimes a bit above or below this. The passes were normally above 4,600m, with the highest at 4,900m. Although we didn´t have problems of altitude sickness (headaches, nausea etc) we did have a few problems just due to the lack of air. It is sometimes very slow progress up the final few hundred metres, and this is where it is steepest and the path can be rocky and narrow etc.
Day 2, the long day, involved a climb of about 1,000m that was very draining.
But the scnenery is stunning. People say that this route is second to a trek in Nepal, and those of you who have trekked in Nepal can perhaps agree on this. Sadly the weather was unseasonably poor, it is supposed to never rain this time of year, be clear blue skies, perfect views of the mountain peaks. We had cloud most days, some hail and some snow.
The scale of the mountains is hard to express in words. Even without the postcard weather we had some stunning views, which make the effort worthwhile. Huge, sheer cliff faces. Snowy caps peeking through the tops of the clouds. Long valleys, with ribbons of water flowing off to the distance. Glaciers slowly griding down mountainsides.
Every now and then it´s possible to hear a lound groaning and rumbling sound. Occasionally this was my guts, since we were not being fed the most generous portions. But more often this was the sound of huge chunks of ice splitting from the body of the glacier. Then there is the noise of all the ice tumbling, often hundreds of metres. Appearing very similar to a waterfall, but of snow and ice. Awesome at night when huddled in a tent and the surroundings are very quiet.
We saw condors circling. We saw some odd little villages in the middle of nowhere, and wondered how they survive. We chatted to one local woman, who told us that she was 2 hours by horse from supplies. They have a lot of trout in the lakes, and cows, but little in the way of vegetables. She was very keen to flog us some fish and chips! But we declined. 10 minutes later someone was keen to sell us a beer, but after a day´s walking and still at over 4,000m that was also probably a bad idea.
The other memorable thing about day 2 is that the only water supply available tasted of cow pats, and although the water purification tablest no doubt removed the nasties, it couldn´t take away the taste! Uuurrgh.
Generally the provision of kit was OK, we have nothing of our own for camping, it´s not worth lugging it around the whole world for the odd trek. But, as mentioned before, the rations were really not enough. It´s extremely cold at night, often there would be ice on the tent in the morning. With second rate sleeping bags and mats, even with all my clothes on, hat and gloves, it was still chilly. This means that a lot of energy goes on just keeping warm. And with a big climb every day I think I was in a bit of a calorie debt. In fact at one point I had a dream that I looked in a mirror and saw a very skinny, concentration camp reflection. I think my sub-concious was aware of the food problem!
All the slogging up steep hills also raised the same question that Phillippa and I argues about when we were training for the marathon. Is it an advantage to have legs about 10% longer? Yes probably, but is this outweighed by the problem of being about 75% heavier? Almost certainly! If there are any specialists in bio-mechanics who can resolve this then please email me. The obvious and easiest answer seems to be found if we turn to evolution, most apt having recently been to Galapagos. All the Andea races are small and, in the main lightly built. Indeed, all successful marathon runners are small and very lightly built. Suggesting that perhaps that, over the years, the lanky and heavy Andean folk didn´t win the genetic race for survival.
I think I commented on their tiny buses in another post. But there was one hotel, where the staircase ceiling was so low it was like being in a scene in Being John Malkovich.
There is more to the Andean trek, as some of you already know, and the final instalment will appear here soon....
Keep checking back for updates.
Some notes on our trek in the Andes.
Almost immediately after our trip to Chavin, we set off on our Andean adventure. For those of you that haven´t either read the book by Joe Simpson, or seen the Bafta award-winning film, Touching the Void then I suggest you do so. Even for people with no interest in mountaineering, it is a gripping tale of human endurance in the face of enourmous adversity. And it all takes place in the mountains where we have just been.
After a 5am bus from Huaraz, we had to change in some small village after a few hours. A bloke was working on the reaer right wheels, I think he was changing them round. After nearly 90mins of hanging around we were off again. About a further 90mins into the trip, in the middle of nowehere, disaster struck. The wheels literally fell off the bus. The bolts on both rear right wheels had sheared off, and with a clunk, the outer wheel went first. Luckily we were going uphill, slowly round a hairpin, at the time.
So we´re stuck in a valley, about 40min drive from our destination. The driver of the bus heads off to get help, and the rest of us can only wait. About 2 hours later he was back with a minibus. The original plan was to load on all the heavy bags, provisions, food, gas etc, so that we could at least start walking with the daypacks we each had. Unfortunately, about 3 Israelis decided they must get on the bus, meaning that there was not wnough room for all the kit. So all the rest of us (about 15) had to wait for the bus to return. It must be a burden being God´s chosen children at times, though with the knowledge that you are more important than everyone else it certainly helps make their time in this life a bit easier.
So we get to Llamac, a small village, about 4 hours after we had planned to. There´s not enough time to get to the intended place to camp, so we walk for just 3 hours, up from 3,200m to about 4,100m.
The daily routine is broadly: 1 pass per day, normally 6 hours walking, though the second day we were trying to make up lost time and did about 7.5 hours with only avery short stop for lunch. Usually we camp about 4,000m, sometimes a bit above or below this. The passes were normally above 4,600m, with the highest at 4,900m. Although we didn´t have problems of altitude sickness (headaches, nausea etc) we did have a few problems just due to the lack of air. It is sometimes very slow progress up the final few hundred metres, and this is where it is steepest and the path can be rocky and narrow etc.
Day 2, the long day, involved a climb of about 1,000m that was very draining.
But the scnenery is stunning. People say that this route is second to a trek in Nepal, and those of you who have trekked in Nepal can perhaps agree on this. Sadly the weather was unseasonably poor, it is supposed to never rain this time of year, be clear blue skies, perfect views of the mountain peaks. We had cloud most days, some hail and some snow.
The scale of the mountains is hard to express in words. Even without the postcard weather we had some stunning views, which make the effort worthwhile. Huge, sheer cliff faces. Snowy caps peeking through the tops of the clouds. Long valleys, with ribbons of water flowing off to the distance. Glaciers slowly griding down mountainsides.
Every now and then it´s possible to hear a lound groaning and rumbling sound. Occasionally this was my guts, since we were not being fed the most generous portions. But more often this was the sound of huge chunks of ice splitting from the body of the glacier. Then there is the noise of all the ice tumbling, often hundreds of metres. Appearing very similar to a waterfall, but of snow and ice. Awesome at night when huddled in a tent and the surroundings are very quiet.
We saw condors circling. We saw some odd little villages in the middle of nowhere, and wondered how they survive. We chatted to one local woman, who told us that she was 2 hours by horse from supplies. They have a lot of trout in the lakes, and cows, but little in the way of vegetables. She was very keen to flog us some fish and chips! But we declined. 10 minutes later someone was keen to sell us a beer, but after a day´s walking and still at over 4,000m that was also probably a bad idea.
The other memorable thing about day 2 is that the only water supply available tasted of cow pats, and although the water purification tablest no doubt removed the nasties, it couldn´t take away the taste! Uuurrgh.
Generally the provision of kit was OK, we have nothing of our own for camping, it´s not worth lugging it around the whole world for the odd trek. But, as mentioned before, the rations were really not enough. It´s extremely cold at night, often there would be ice on the tent in the morning. With second rate sleeping bags and mats, even with all my clothes on, hat and gloves, it was still chilly. This means that a lot of energy goes on just keeping warm. And with a big climb every day I think I was in a bit of a calorie debt. In fact at one point I had a dream that I looked in a mirror and saw a very skinny, concentration camp reflection. I think my sub-concious was aware of the food problem!
All the slogging up steep hills also raised the same question that Phillippa and I argues about when we were training for the marathon. Is it an advantage to have legs about 10% longer? Yes probably, but is this outweighed by the problem of being about 75% heavier? Almost certainly! If there are any specialists in bio-mechanics who can resolve this then please email me. The obvious and easiest answer seems to be found if we turn to evolution, most apt having recently been to Galapagos. All the Andea races are small and, in the main lightly built. Indeed, all successful marathon runners are small and very lightly built. Suggesting that perhaps that, over the years, the lanky and heavy Andean folk didn´t win the genetic race for survival.
I think I commented on their tiny buses in another post. But there was one hotel, where the staircase ceiling was so low it was like being in a scene in Being John Malkovich.
There is more to the Andean trek, as some of you already know, and the final instalment will appear here soon....
Keep checking back for updates.
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