Over twice as deep as our Grand Canyon, this was a treasure. In between peculiar rock formations, bull fights, cacti forests, thermal baths, and deadly waterfalls with unrestricted access and layers of rainbows, I was able to see much deeper into the Peruvian culture through the countless heartfelt interactions with the villagers of Cotahuasi Canyon.

 

 

I was close to joining the hoards in visiting Colca Canyon, but I knew it would bother me for the rest of my life if I didn’t go to Cotahuasi. Peruvian or not, nobody I talked to had been before, which only made me want to go even more, and discover what we were all missing out on.

My mind was blown. Well done Peru, this is one of your best kept secrets. Cotahuasi swept the touristy Sacred Valley away, and pounded me with adventure after adventure.

 

 

I had the time of my life. Needless to say, this is now my favorite destination in Peru.

 

 

But why not Colca if it’s so much closer?

Colca Canyon charges a $20 entry fee. Transport to both canyons leave from Arequipa, but Colca busses leave during the day and take 3-6 hours depending on the village. Cotahuasi takes 10 hours, so I took advantage of this by taking two overnight busses as my accomodation for two nights. I was spending about $15 a day within the Cotahuasi.

More importantly, I got bragging rights for hanging out in the deepest canyon in the world, not the second deepest.

Cotahuasi ultimately comes out cheaper, with more treks and views, more freedom, and the opportunity to maximize daylight hours. Besides, getting off the beaten/wifi path is where the real fun is.

 

 

Getting There

I took a 7:00pm bus from the Arequipa station to Cotahuasi town with the bus company Reyna, and arrived 10 hours later, 5:00am. To the right of the Cotahuasi station, following street lamps as the road curves around the corner, five minutes by foot gets you to Plaza de Armas. All hotels left their doors open all night long, which made me feel safe.

Accomodation

On the main road, just half a block before the plaza, two budget options were Hostal Alacara and Hostal Don Justito, both good choices for those who can rough it. Rooms were unavailable for my first night, but taking the first right on the alley before these two hostals was Hotel Hatun Huasi, which served me well with my private bathroom and hot water for $10. The next day I switched to Hostal Alacara, $5, they were okay with me checking in at 4:00am and checking out the at 6:00pm.

 

Exploring the Canyon Solo

From Cotahuasi town, the roads split in three main directions. Pampamarca is along a tributary to Cotahuasi River to the north, Alca is the last village of the upper canyon to the east. Quechualla is the last in the lower canyon, with the lowest point, Ushua, sitting to the far west at 1,518m. From canyon’s highest point to Ushua is 3,517 m, 163m deeper than Colca (the Grand Canyon is 1,857m).

 

 

Cotahuasi Town

Small Treks, Food, and Bull Fights

2,683m

Day 4

I was immobilized from back-to-back overnight busses and the stress of being somewhere new. Zero other backpackers in sight. I wasn’t able to finish napping and getting myself together until noon.

After a broken conversation with my lovely hostess, I went to the souvenir shop called Purek, located on the main street just before the plaza, because it advertised tourist information. Milko swamped me with things to do. A short elderly man sporting a red baseball cap, he was full of conversation. He ended up being a real bro, and became my favorite Peruvian man.

I cluelessly attempted to hike to Mirador Allhuay, which only lasted two hours because the whole trek would apparently take five or six. The trail starts by turning right just after the plaza, and passes by a primary school.

 

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Writing from the stands of a bull fight, I’m sitting here feeling so touched by the Andean people. Today is the third and final day of the celebrations of Cotahuasi’s founding, May 4th.

Since about 4:30pm they’ve been provoking bulls with capes and lassos. It’s pretty silly to me but the natives clearly love it. The greater the reaction from the animal, the louder the shrieks and cheers. One cowboy stepped out after he got trampled.

I’m wondering how many hours and hours the women had to cook to supply the entire village with enough popcorn, chips, candied apples, and cups of Ponchi, or whipped egg whites and sugar topped with sprinkles or a chocolate drizzle.

Dinner time was the best part. The woman next to me began serving plates of rice, potatoes, and cuy to the people around me. At first I thought she was selling the meals, and I asked how much. They laughed and fed me and refused to take my money. And it tasted so much betterthan the leathery crap they roast for tourists in Cusco restaurants. They took my trash too. Other women were doing the same, scooping hot food from heavy pots from inside their bags that they had carried all the way from home.

Now it makes sense why the boy I was hiking with told me he was going to “Plaza del Toro.”

September 2018 Update: Milko was still in Purek, as informative and adorable as ever. The town still holds annual bull festivities the first week of May.

 

 

Pampamarca

Rock Formations and Waterfalls

3,397m

Day 5 (am)

Everyday at 5:00am a combi leaves Cotahuasi for Pampamarca. It takes 2.5 hours, or three on days with flat tires like in my case, $1.80. The same combi leaves Pampamarca at noon, returning to Cotahuasi town.

With four hours to do everything I could, I hauled ass up to Bosque de Rocas Huito which sits at 4,000m, doubting and cursing myself the whole way. At the start of the hike I was trying to wake up, delirious from deydration, hunger, and mildly from altitude.

To reach the trailhead to these rock formations, I headed back up the same switchbacks that the combi arrived on until I saw a sign, pointing at a wooden doorframe. Alternatively, ask the combi driver ahead of time to be dropped here.

From there it’s up up up and profuse sweating with little shade.

I felt like I was walking among deserted ruins rotting in the sun. It was awesome.

I gave my best interpretation of flying down a mountain. The maps label the hike as a 4-hour investment, but for those that frequent outdoor trails like myself, it tooke me 2.5, and my friends can tell you I’m not the fastest hiker out there…

I was back in center of town with time left to get to Mirador Uskune. A sign points to a stone archway which is the start of a dirt path. I stayed on the main trail which was pretty flat until the end, 15 minutes later, which presented two small hilltops.

Go all the way to the second hill and look over the edge at Catarata Uskune, a massive waterfall feeding into the Cotahuasi River way below. The relentless water crashed into the canyon and created a cascade of several smaller falls. High up in the distance sat the Solimana glacier (6,093m).

 

 

Luicho

Thermal Baths

2,704m

Day 5 (pm)

Hourly combis leave from the Cotahuasi plaza for Alca (2,750m) upstream along the river. Most stay here for the night and walk 20 minutes to the baños termales in Luicho.

The last combi returns to Cotahuasi from Alca at 5:30pm, picking up passengers in Luicho around 6:00pm. I felt an hour of soaking in the spring-fed thermal baths was enough for me, given limited transport and being alone.

My very brief excursion was so worth the opportunity to look out the window at the river bubbling under the peaks, and meeting an inspirational solo-female backpacker from Shanghai. She’d been in South America for 2.5 years and still hasn’t touched Brazil. We talked in Chinese, English, and Spanish, in decreasing order, and she tried to tell me about Workaway, except I already knew about it.

A beautiful suspension bridge at the bottom of the canyon leads to the house of pools with windows displaying the majestic Andes. A mysterious dude sold tickets from a teeny window. Access to all three pools was $2, and to the front pool only was $1. Cubbies available, staff watches over  for security.

I sat under the hot running water until I was pruny, my body deserved it.

Other than the Californian leaving (with the Peruvian guide he’d hired) as I arrived, every other visitor was Peruvian. I noticed families seemed to love to buy a can of condensed milk, a two (or maybe three) liter Coke, and make foamy mixed drinks. Perhaps it’s a South American version of our root beer.

Where I went wrong is my failure to even consider bringing a towel. The showers thankfully had warm water. I decided slapping droplets off my skin would have to suffice.

I caught the final combi. Hitching was also possible.

So now I’m writing in the bumping, dark vehicle that is tightening the knots in my back, and Justin Bieber is asking if it’s too late now to say sorry.

 

 

Judiopampa

Cacti Forest

Day 6 (am)

To reach the large cacti field of Judiopampa, I took the only bus, leaving pre-dawn for Velinga, the village in the lower canyon at which the only road ends.

A good trekking opportunity would be hiking from Velinga to the village Quechualla (September 2018 Update: As of October 2017, the road and daily colectivo reach all the way to Quechualla, see below for more details) and taking the trail to the lowest point in the canyon, Ushua (1,618m), also reachable by a lengthy hike from the higher village of Charcana, were you can stay in Quechua homes. Given my circumstances, I decided to skip this so I could head back to Arequipa at night.

At 8:00am for $1.20 I alighted at Judiopampa and explored the various cacti species for an hour, before the same combi returning to Cotahuasi town picked me up again. No trails, just dried river beds. Bring sunscreen and water.

 

Catarata de Sipia

Waterfalls

2,494m

Day 6 (noon)

The combi again left me on the dirt road, one hour later, at Sipia Falls.

At first, hiking to the viewing platform and looking out doesn’t show the grandeur. It wasn’t until I decided to more or less risk my life did the fun start. I went right up to the mouth of the waterfall, hanging my feet over the edge.

Upstream, I was so happy with all the water I could filter and drink up. I was gonna simply wash my face, then realized I might as well bathe, because I had the whole place to myself and it’ll likely be roped off and crowded within a decade.

September 2018 Update: Going to the water edge is already marked off, with “PELIGRO” spray painted and some intimidating wooden signs. Looking back two years, I was crazy to get that close. Delusional, as some might say.

The cold water had me laughing out loud. I clung to the rocks, praying I wouldn’t be swept off the cliff just meters behind me. I wondered how much sewage I was playing in.

Shivering with joy and refreshment, I started on the 3-hour trek back to Cotahuasi town. Before long, a pick-up truck took me 20 minutes along my way. Just as I got back into my pace, a motorbike with a truck flat got me.

Now that was terribly fun. I sat with two village men on a wooden plank who feared that I would fly out and therefore tightly linked arms with me, until I was taking too many photos, so they settled with clinging onto the straps of my daypack. As we jolted up and down the canyon switchbacks our faces and clothes received their own thin blanket of desert.

Back in Cotahuasi I thanked them and left them with some coins. Content that I wasn’t shriveled and blackened to a crisp from the high-altitude sun, I proceeded to go find my friends in town.

The lady selling chicha served me in a disposable Starbucks cup this time. After asking, I’m pretty sure she didn’t have a clue as to what Starbucks was. That’s how culturally isolated I was. A woman next to her was selling ponchi.

In between drink and desert I splurged $4.50 on a greasy meal and as if that wasn’t enough, when I went to hang out with Milko one last time and handed him the second half of my ponchi, he fed me chirimoya and lucuma fruits.

I got the 7pm overnight to return to Arequipa, leaving with my reflections on the kind and simple people of the canyon.

 

 

Quechualla & Ushua

Deepest of the deepest

1,618m

By some God-given miracle, I returned to this canyon, with two more years of growth and travels behind me. This time, I had Fritz and Bob the Van and was freed from the confusing time tables of public transport.

Conditions along the recently opened road are rough. It takes nearly two hours to drive to Quechualla from Cotahuasi town. A colectivo leaves Cotahuasi before dawn once a day, and comes back from Cotahuasi at 8am.

From Quechualla to Ushua, the deepest point in the canyon, it’s a vague path and over an hour to hike. We had to enter a closed gate and follow the edges of private farmland.

Two waterfalls mark the destination and serve as cold yet suitable showers. To add to the uncertainty of this whole hike, they’re hidden from view. Especially the larger, upper falls. We nearly gave up but in following the sounds of gushing water we managed to locate them.

Quechualla has one hotel/informal restaurant on the main square. We parked and slept there, in between the two football goals, and were welcomed to fill our water supply, and use the restrooms with Señora Yvette.

Everyone was hospitable just like I know Peruvians to be. I think we were among the first foreign vehicles to overland and overnight there.

Day 182

6 August 2018

Quechualla. The people here are as sweet as the fruits hanging heavily from their trees.

The chickens sit, plump, next to the rabbits in their joined cages.

Before our search for the ever-elusive Ushua, we were overheated by the drive and hungry. Flies were filling the car and landing on my anklet, Fritz’s favorite pot, Fritz’s beard.

After some potatoes and onions, we followed the sewage line, cross rivers, and gingerly loosen the tie that held a clearly anti-tourist padlock to the iron gated entrance of a neighborhood of dry, dusty fields.

We clambered along the edges of the crops, through some cliffs and thorns. It was hard to decide if we had finally made it. According to some rock graffiti, yes.

It wasn’t until Fritz turned over a giant slab of rusty, crumpled sheet of metal that we confirmed our depth for it was actually a sign announcing our “PROFUNDIDAD MAXIMA”-ness of “3517 MTS.”

Day 183

7 August 2018

The delights of my morning were waving at Lucho the baby parrot for his on-command “ciao’s,” and the puddle of dusty ducklings in the middle of the road who as unimpressed by our advancing Dodge Ram as their mother.

Chiquitín was one of the smiliest, stoned pugs I’ve ever met.