Today's wake up made yesterday's 9am start time seem like a dream - 5.30am pickup. So it was claimed by the tour agency that we'd be picked up at our accommodation at this time! Great! This may not have transpired like it said on the tin...
So last night we received a WhatsApp from the tour agency at about 10pm (7.5 hours to go). They asked where we lived and we sent our exact location. What could go wrong?
So it turns out that apparently an exact location isn't good enough? Our avenue "was too long". So they didn't actually bother coming to pick us up... fantastic. The woman on WhatsApp from the tour agency didn't speak any English... So she kept messaging us in Spanish slang. Uwotm8. We kept plugging this into Google translate to genuinely no avail. Fifteen minutes later and we had finally managed to agree to meet at the main plaza (5 minute walk from our accommodation). See now we would have been perfectly happy to have arranged to meet them at the plaza. WhatsApp woman told us to get a taxi to the plaza? How bizarre, it's almost as if she hadn't even looked at our location?
Crisis averted and we managed to find our tour bus and were greeted with no apology from WhatsApp woman. This is something Emma and I then ended up discussing. So in England you basically always apologise, even if it's not your fault unless you really hate the person (happens often). This is something that doesn't happen in South America it would appear. Not sure we have once heard a "sorry" in Spanish. Odd.
Next came the latest mare of the day. As we were the last ones onto the bus we didn't really have a choice of seats. We were forced into the only remaining two seats. Normally, not an issue. Who cares where you sit? That was until this time... So the "man" (absolute loser) sat in front of me decided that he was a top joker (he wasn't) and put his chair onto full recline. I was left with zero space. My knees couldn't go anyway. Picture the scene of a grouchy and sleep deprived me... (not pretty). The worst part was that he wasn't even trying to sleep! Most of the time he had his head at an angle that would suit a normal angle of reclining. Nevertheless a few knees may have strayed into the seat in front as a sign of marking my territory - better than marking my scent?
When we pulled up to the breakfast stop I decided to hang back a little. I waited until this creature had left his knee-ridden seat to go and feast upon what I could only imagine to contain at least seven worms and be 80% dirt. I put the chair back into a normal position for him (ha ha that will show him). Strangely enough this actually worked... when he returned from his what I'm sure was a delightful meal he didn't recline it as far. It was at a manageable level for both of us. Winners all round.
Moving onto the actual purpose of the trip - lake 69, or well the hike to lake 69! All we knew of the hike was that it was classed as moderate (understatement of the year) and that it was meant to be 2-3 hours up and 1-2 down. Now the timing estimates were correct. Not sure how though.
So we were dropped off at 3900m above sea level and told to follow the path up the valley (sure mate let's do this). It didn't seem too steep. After about five minutes of walking I asked our guide at what altitude the lake was... So it turned out that it was at 4600m... We were expected to climb 700m vertically during our hike? Obscene.
I also had no idea how long in distance the hike was. After going up one winding path and seemingly flat aftermath I thought we'd done it. How wrong was I? We were then greeted by a much worse steep winding path up what seemed like a cliff face. After many water breaks and regaining breath breaks we made it. This distance you ask? 6.7km at over 4000m above sea level! 6.7km each way need I add.
Of course the views of the lake were worth the climb - they always are. This particular lake was set under three mountain peaks, each of about 6000m above sea level. Purely to add to the aesthetics they were snow capped of course. So the layers in the photos and views went as follows: bright turquoise reflecting lake, the dark greys and blacks of revealed ancient rock face then the snow capped peaks of towering mountains. Not bad for a small man from England.
What topped off the time spent relaxing at the lake was a man who lit a campfire for his tin of baked beans. Why hadn't I thought of that? Not to take anything away from our sandwiches that Emma prepared with a care only she could know (I have to say that really although they were nice). Next followed the trek back down. It was only then that we realised quite how steep it was as we were hopping from rock to rock like a possessed goat. For some reason I decided to give a season preview and updates on transfer rumours of the upcoming premier league season to an unsuspecting Emma for well over an hour to occupy the way down. I even went on to explaining the Cristiano Ronaldo tax fraud allegations (I'm such a fun person to be around trust). What a good way to say goodbye to Huaraz, the place that some people call the Switzerland of Peru (odd analogy) though not all too far off.
