Ausangate

Martha, while sweeping the kitchen floor, has suggested it is about time I got on with this blog.  Luckily for you, however, it is now so long ago that I can hardly remember what happened, so this entry may be more photographic than others.

Ausangate is a big mountain (6380m) between Cusco and Lake Titicaca.  It is quite often visible from Cusco, almost 100 km away, and was sacred to the Incas.  We were first interested in it when we heard a boast that on it are the highest mountain lodges in the world. We also met a muscular American girl who said it was some of the best trekking she had ever done.  She was off to teach in New Delhi so we bought her OS map off her.

We were a little nervous about the trip.  Would the boys manage two passes over 5000m?  Would they manage the long days?  Would there be enough to eat?  Juan Carlos, from the agency which runs the lodges, was reassuring.  A man would follow us round with two horses in case any of us should conk out.  The days were long on paper but if you walked fast from lodge to lodge it would only take a couple of hours each day. (This was a big exaggeration as it turned out.)  There would be bread, pasta, cooked lunches, don’t worry.  He issued us with duffle bags for our kit.  These would be carried by llamas.  He also mentioned that two Peruvian travel agents from Italy would be coming with us.

Our guide was to be Jeremy who appeared the next day, glued to his iPhone and dressed head-to-toe in North Face mountain clothing (lest we should forget he was really a mountain guide?).  Juan Carlos told us we were lucky to have him as he was very knowledgeable.  Another Juan Carlos, a very engaging, gregarious man, was to come with us as cook, with an assistant of course.  With the two llama drivers and the horseman we would be troop of ten.

On the way to the mountain, we stopped for a picnic lunch in a grove of eucalyptus trees by a river where there were torrent ducks at work.  I was intrigued to find out what a picnic was, as the alternative was a ‘box lunch’.  It turned out to be a proper sit-down hot lunch at a picnic table with a table cloth.  With it we were served mate de coca and to our surprise, Titus started glugging it down - with a bit of sugar to ease its passage.

About four miles before the first lodge we got out of the mini bus to walk.  The path went through a dramatic gorge and then emerged into beautiful alpaca and llama pasture, with little streams running through it.   But at over 4000m it was chilly and we were very glad to find, when we arrived, that a woodburner had been lit in the lodge. We were also all issued with moccasin type slippers made from alpaca hides.  These were very warm and furry, and the boys could not quite believe they would be ours to keep.

At this point I should explain that the lodges are all run by the communities for the communities.  Each one has a local caretaker and all the maids – and in future all the guides – are from the local villages.   The lodges themselves are quite stylish and have about ten bedrooms.  Each room has its own bathroom and there is hot water in the afternoons (when you arrive). Apart from the wood burner there is no heat and it’s damned cold, though hot water bottles are delivered to the beds after supper and there are plenty of blankets.

Later that evening our co-guests arrived – Alex and Axel.  They were not Peruvians from Italy but Italians from Lima.  They marched straight up to us to introduce themselves – in English – and turned out to be utterly charming for the whole trip.  Alex was doing the trek for the fourth time.  Axel, his junior partner in their travel agency, was on his first visit. With us they spoke English but they also managed to have a good rapport with each other in Italian and with Jeremy in Spanish, which was quite a relief for us.

I won’t give you a blow-by-blow account of the trek - I cannot remember the exact sequence of events anyway.  What we do remember is that it was a trek with a wonderful sense of drama.  An hour or so into the second day one started seeing the snowy peak of Ausangate and for the next two days we were walking round its base.  The route led us through vast pastures where alpaca and llama herders grazed their flocks then up into barren, rocky ground where there were turquoise lakes, back down into pasture and then up again into some of the most geologically stunning country I have seen.

The boys were completely different in their attitudes to the walking.  Zu, with his long legs exaggerated by his black tights, seemed to walk without noticing altitude or distance.  He had brought a football with him and when we arrived at each lodge after seven or eight hours walking would get it out and go and kick around with the men.  He was constantly on the lookout for raptors and spotted the only two condors we saw.  By a lake he found the prints of an Andean cat which, we are told, is the second rarest cat in the world. He also combed the ground for feathers and was rewarded with a caracara feather on the last day.

Titus, for whom problems are never merely physical but also emotional, managed it all but needed a great deal of coaxing, flattering and cajoling on the climbs to the passes.  Sometimes our cajoling would backfire.  “Come on, T” we might say “not many eight year olds have been to over 5000m.”  Half an hour later he would sit down on a rock and complain “How can I be expected to walk up here when I am only eight years old?”  In the end distraction was the best answer.  I would tell (both of them) long detective stories or Martha would feed his endless interest in the world and tell him about reptiles or geology or something.  On the downhills, of course, he needed no encouragement and would suddenly feel all bouncy again.

Titus and Zu building cairn at 5150m

Martha and I coped quite well, though the need to stop continually to put on or take off children’s hats, gloves, coats and scarves, or to do up their laces or find them a snack made the walk far more exhausting than it would have been otherwise.  I also found myself somewhat short of breath for telling stories as we approached the high passes.

It was not long before we began to resent our guide.  To do him justice, he had a sore throat but even so one got the impression that he would always rather be in Cuzco playing with his iPad.  He didn’t volunteer much information to us but when we asked his replies were rather short and gracelessly given.  He would wait for us rather grumpily so we always felt we were holding him up.  He seemed rather machista with Martha and would not credit her with any experience or knowledge worth having.  And he didn’t want us to deviate at all from the route.  Once, when we decided to nip up and have a look at the view from a ridge, he started blathering about how it was our responsibility, even though there was quite obviously no danger.  Only by the fire, or at the dinner table, in the evenings did he cheer up.  I would much rather have been guided by Grimaldo, the man with the horses, who was always 20 metres behind us anyway, though I might have had to persuade him not to play his radio the whole way.

All the other people were delightful.  Juan Carlos the cook and his assistant would pass us every day and rush ahead to cook and erect the lunch tent.  We would also be overtaken by the llamas carrying our bags.  They were rather stylishly adorned with pink tassels on their ears, making them very picturesque.  We would also be overtaken by Nieves, chief maid and waitress, with her two apprentices.  Nieves, like the llamas, seemed to have a good eye for a photo opportunity and would play up to it.

In terms of drama, the fourth day of walking stands out.  The route took us over three passes and with each one spectacular new views were revealed.  The mountains took on amazing shapes and colours – reds, greys and browns – as the geology changed.  At times there was virtually no vegetation and we found ourselves walking through virtual desert.  The camera batteries worked hard.

On the last day we had to climb over a small pass then descend 1000m to the road.  It was a beautiful walk interrupted by a weaving display in a small hamlet.  We felt obliged to buy something and Zu walked away with yet another iPod cover while we bought hats for the present drawer at home.  We found the lunch tent about quarter a mile from the road and had an excellent stir-fried rice.  We then asked if Zu and Titus could ride the last few hundred metres on the horses that were still with us.  They got on but were quickly taken off: the horses were too frisky. 

And some more pictures we like...

Nieves with her two apprentices

Geology lesson with Titus