Our long trip: 3. Huaraz, Peru

Huaraz

We arrived in Huaraz around six in the morning. During the bus ride, we both managed to get a bit of sleep (Magda has no problem sleeping while traveling, but for Martin it’s much harder, so he only slept in short bursts — the sharp turns along the road kept waking him up). After getting off, we both felt a bit out of it, as is usual after a night journey. At the bus station, we had something to eat and then set off across the entire town of Huaraz to reach our accommodation — less than two kilometers, but dragging our large wheeled bag over uneven ground made it quite a challenge.

Huaraz is far less touristy and polished than the parts of Lima we had been in. The houses are unfinished, the streets dirty, and the sidewalks full of holes. Along the edges of the sidewalks sit local women in colorful clothing and hats, selling anything you can imagine — fruit, bread, chicken, hot food, clothing… That early in the morning, we resisted buying anything and just walked to our accommodation.

The accommodation we chose was very cheap and simple, but it included breakfast. It was run by an elderly Peruvian woman who didn’t speak a word of English, and even her Spanish was difficult for us to understand. Still, she was very kind and immediately offered us breakfast, even though officially we were supposed to get it the next morning. Then she gave us a room right away, even though check-in wasn’t until the afternoon. The room was small but adequate. In the shower, we were a bit surprised by the showerhead — electrical wires wrapped only in tape were leading into it. It didn’t look very safe; I was a bit nervous about it, but nothing happened and hot water ran fine.

We didn’t do much on our first day in Huaraz. After climbing from sea level to 3,500 meters above sea level, altitude sickness caught up with us a bit — we had headaches and stomach pain. We spent part of the day catching up on sleep and the rest gathering information about trips for the next day — hoping we’d be acclimatized enough by then. On the main square, there’s an iPeru tourist information office where they speak English and don’t try to sell you anything, which we really appreciated.

Laguna Churup

The next day in Huaraz, we chose a trip to Laguna Churup. It’s not very far from Huaraz, and you can get there by a cheap local collectivo (shared transport — a van that doesn’t have a schedule but leaves once it’s full). We got the information about where it departs from and how much it costs at the tourist information office beforehand.

When we arrived at the parking lot below Laguna Churup, we paid the collectivo driver (40 PEN for both of us, including the return trip) and then had to buy a ticket from the guard at the start of the trail for the Huascarán National Park. Tickets are sold in three options (1-day for 30 PEN, 3-day for 60 PEN, and 30-day for 150 PEN). We considered different combinations — maybe two 3-day ones — since the 3-day ticket should have been enough for the Santa Cruz trek we were planning. But the guard told us that if we wanted to go to Santa Cruz, we needed the 30-day one, so we both bought it — grumbling a bit because it was quite expensive.

Then we finally started the hike up to Laguna Churup. The views along the way were beautiful, but we quickly ran out of breath. We weren’t nearly acclimatized enough yet and made several mistakes (too fast a pace with too few breaks, not enough water, and almost no food), so when we still had a few hundred meters of elevation to go, we seriously considered turning back. We had different opinions about continuing and couldn’t agree. In the end, we decided to keep going — it supposedly wasn’t far, though the steepest section was still ahead. The last 100 meters were more like climbing, with ropes attached to the rock for support. Going back that way was even harder than going up, so it took us quite a while. We finally crawled up to the lagoon, exhausted, after about three and a half hours. It’s very beautiful, but for the first ten minutes there we just caught our breath.

The way down was also challenging, but luckily we found an alternative route that didn’t require using the ropes. Despite being tired, going down was faster, and after about an hour and a half (with many forced breaks), we made it back to the parking lot where the collectivo was already waiting. We got in and headed back to Huaraz. When we arrived, neither of us felt great. We went back to our accommodation — Magda went straight to bed, and Martin took a very slow walk around the neighborhood to calm his stomach. The walk (with a Coke bought along the way) fortunately helped. But that was pretty much it for the day.

The following day in Huaraz, we decide to make it an unplanned extra rest day and just walked around town. We visited the market, where they sell almost everything — including plenty of kinds of fruit, of which we bought a few. We went for lunch at an Indian restaurant that also had vegetarian options, and for 18 PEN we got a large meal and a great juice. We had ice cream and coffee and took the day very easy overall. Luckily, it helped us recover a bit.

Pastoruri Glacier

We revised our original plan for another trek (Laguna 69) and decided that after the previous experience, we wouldn’t risk a hike with an 800-meter elevation gain over just 6 km. Instead, we chose a gentler organized trip to the Pastoruri Glacier. Although it’s located at 5100 meters above sea level, you only need to walk about 2 km with a 200-meter ascent to reach it. We managed to find the organized trip for 40 PEN per person. In general, we don’t like organized tours very much — we prefer going on our own rather than in groups — but this was a place you couldn’t realistically reach independently.

In the morning at 8:00, we waited as agreed to be picked up for the trip, but no one showed up. We contacted the agency via WhatsApp, but no one replied. After about 40 minutes, when we were already losing hope and thinking the trip had left without us, someone from the agency finally responded, telling us not to worry — the trip hadn’t started yet and they would pick us up at 9:00. Around nine, someone indeed arrived and led us to a van, where we then sat for another half an hour before departure. That’s how we learned that in Peru, “starting at 8:00” can easily mean 9:30.

The road to the glacier is quite long — it’s a fair distance from Huaraz, and given the road conditions, it took almost three hours to get there. There was also a guide in the van who explained what we were passing and what we would see, but unfortunately, he spoke only Spanish (most of the others in the van were locals, surprisingly), so we didn’t get much out of the commentary.

Before reaching the glacier, you have to pay another entrance fee, even though it’s part of Huascarán National Park, for which we already had tickets. This was something that annoyed us in Peru — you often have to pay multiple times. In this case, the local community where the Pastoruri Glacier is located doesn’t recognize the national park ticket and charges its own fee of 25 PEN per person (less for locals). Sure, 150 CZK isn’t a big deal for tourists from wealthy Europe, but it’s still annoying. We encountered this same practice in several other places in Peru. It would have bothered us less if we at least saw some return for the fee — like public toilets. But that’s not the case; it’s purely a source of income, and you usually have to pay extra for a toilet (often not even clean). End of the rant.

Before arriving at the Pastoruri Glacier, you drive through a strange landscape — a green grassy pampa. It’s at a high altitude, over 4000 meters above sea level, but it’s warm during the day. No trees grow there, only low shrubs, cacti, and a peculiar tall plant called Puya Raimondii. We had several photo stops along the way, and the guide talked about it. We caught the name, but not much of the explanation, so we looked it up later.

We finally reached the glacier and, after a very slow 2 km walk, made it all the way up. At the base, they offer donkey rides to the top, but we refused — we’re not that soft. The view of the glacier, the lake, and the surrounding mountains is beautiful. The historical photos on the information boards are sad, though — the glacier has shrunk to half its size over the past decades and will probably disappear completely within the next few decades. Comparing the old photos to its current state makes it hard to deny global warming.

After returning to Huaraz, we did a big grocery run — a kilo of hard cheese, bread rolls, pasta, and canned tuna. The next day, we were setting out on the four-day Santa Cruz trek, which runs through wilderness with no opportunities to buy food, and we definitely didn’t want to go hungry. We packed our tent, sleeping bags, and mats, and at 4 a.m., we threw our full backpacks on our backs, left our other luggage stored at the accommodation, and set off on our next adventure.

Santa Cruz Trek

The journey from Huaraz to the start of the Santa Cruz trek takes several hours and is definitely not a comfortable ride — the roads are terrible… but in return, they offer breathtaking views.

The first part is easy: you just need to get on a collectivo heading to Yungay — it’s a popular route, departures are frequent, and the ticket costs only 8 soles per person. The second part of the trip is trickier: from Yungay to Vaquería, collectivos run much less often and are more expensive (30 PEN). We had information that one should leave around 8 a.m., which was roughly true — that’s why we had to get up disgustingly early to catch the previous one. Later departures depend on demand; you have to wait until the van fills up. And that can take a while.

When we saw a collectivo to Vaquería in Yungay, we felt relieved — several large backpacks were already loaded on the roof. So, we weren’t the only crazy ones heading there. Besides us, a few locals were riding too, transporting live roosters in bags — and the roosters weren’t too happy about traveling in such tight spaces, loudly making their displeasure known.

The road (if you can call a dusty track full of huge potholes a road) was pretty awful. Along the way, the van stopped at a gas station, where fuel was poured into the tank from a bucket. But as soon as the vehicle began to climb into the mountain switchbacks and the panorama of the majestic peaks — Huascarán, Huandoy, and Pisco — opened before us, we quickly forgot the hellish ride.

On the way, we passed Laguna Llanganuco, lying beneath Huascarán. It was here, in 1970, that the Czech mountaineering expedition tragically perished when an avalanche buried their camp. Magda said she caught sight of a memorial plaque with a Czech flag. I was looking the other way toward the lagoon, so I didn’t see anything.

Finally, we arrived in Vaquería, where the road ends. Aside from a small shop selling a few basic supplies, there’s nothing there at all. A few other people got off with us, put on their backpacks, and silently set off on the trek. So did we.

The first 10 km are fairly gentle, but you can really feel the loaded backpack on your back. We crossed meadows where sheep and cows were grazing, and gradually started to get more and more out of breath.

At the Paria campsite after 10 km (where most organized tours end their first day), we were already considering stopping for the night, but we caught up with Océane, a Swiss woman who had also gotten off our collectivo. We started talking and found out she was from Geneva and worked as a paramedic (which could come in handy in the mountains…). She wanted to continue further that day — to a camp a few kilometers and a few hundred meters higher. We didn’t want to be outdone (and our future selves would thank us for saving those meters tomorrow), so we kept going too. Along the way, we met a Peruvian named Fernando, who teaches yoga in Huaraz. The last few hundred meters of ascent were pure agony. Our little fellowship finally decided to camp at 4150 meters above sea level.

We pitched our tents and cooked something for dinner (pasta with a can of tuna). We filled our bottles from a stream — we had a water filter, the Swiss woman had purification tablets, and the Peruvian simply drank straight from the stream, saying it was surely better than tap water in Huaraz. It was quite cold, and then it started to rain, so we crawled into our sleeping bags very early.

We weren’t great at getting up early, so on the second day we woke up last. Our fellow trekkers were already packing up their tents. We made breakfast (porridge and coca tea) and didn’t rush. We agreed we might meet again in the base camp below Alpamayo if things went well. Before we finished packing, several groups from organized tours overtook us — but they had it easier. They were walking light, as their gear was carried by donkeys. We carried everything ourselves.

Ahead of us was the ascent to the highest point of the entire trek — the Punta Unión pass at 4750 meters above sea level. Of course, we complained the whole way about what a stupid idea this had been. But we trudged on bravely and reached the top around noon. It was snowing up there, and after taking a few photos, we even passed some of the organized groups who were lounging around for ages, posing for pictures in every possible way. We descended toward the Taullipampa campsite. We were quite tired but it was still early, so we just took a short snack break and continued on toward the campsite below Alpamayo.

Here, our otherwise incredibly useful Mapy.cz app betrayed us a bit. According to it, the ascent was supposed to be only about 200 meters — but it definitely wasn’t. The trail follows contour lines that apparently aren’t very accurate… In short, we had to climb much more than expected (and much more than we would have liked), and we reached the Alpamayo base camp completely exhausted. Océane and Fernando had arrived much earlier and even managed to walk up to the nearby Arhuaycocha Lagoon, which we decided to save for the morning. The valley is deep, and the sun disappears behind the mountains early, so it quickly gets cold again. The Peruvian went for a swim in the nearby stream flowing from the glacial lagoon — something we admired but didn’t join. We cooked dinner, set up the tent, chatted for a while outside (wearing every layer of clothing we had), and soon crawled into our sleeping bags again.

The next day we hiked on our own — the other half of our small fellowship decided to finish the trek that day (which is doable from the Alpamayo base camp, especially if you skip the Arhuaycocha Lagoon — but we still wanted to go there). We took it more leisurely, heading to the lagoon for sunrise (which is quite late here because the sun rises behind the mountains). From there, there’s also a view of Mount Artesonraju, known from the Paramount Pictures logo. Only after that did we have breakfast, pack up, and start walking. The rest of the day was just descent. We knew it would be faster but tougher on our legs by the evening. Most of the path follows a stream that occasionally forms small lakes. At one point, we had to wade through water. We covered over 20 km (descending 800 meters) and ended the day about 5 km (but still 600 vertical meters) before the end of the trek. We pitched the tent beside the trail, a bit hidden behind some rocks.

On the last day, we didn’t rush at all and slept in. We calmly made breakfast, packed up, and set out for the final stretch. The descent was quite steep — at times just a narrow path through a scree slope. A few people were climbing up the other way, hiking the trek in reverse. We didn’t envy them at all; they had chosen the harder variant with more elevation gain. By noon, we reached the end of the trek, at the edge of Cashapampa. There was a collectivo waiting, offering to take us to Yungay for another collectivo to Huaraz. We suspected it was more like a taxi, but several of us arrived at once, and the price per person (20 PEN) was fair, so we went for it. In Yungay, we transferred to a collectivo back to Huaraz, looking forward to lunch and a shower.

We arranged lunch right after arriving in Huaraz — we ducked into a nearby cevichería. We ordered the menu del día, which here means ceviche (a typical Latin American dish — raw fish marinated in lime juice, served with onions) as a starter, and fish with manioc as the main dish. The portions were huge, but we were starving, so we finished everything (even Magda 😉). It came with a large glass of delicious fruit juice. By the way, the daily menu isn’t even listed in the printed menu, only written on a board in the restaurant, and locals don’t order anything else. If we had ordered the same dishes from the menu, it would have cost much more than the 40 PEN (about 280 CZK) we paid in total.

After lunch, we returned to our accommodation, where we had left our luggage. The hostess expected us to stay another night, as we had arranged beforehand. We quickly got our room and could finally take a shower — which felt absolutely amazing after four days. We gathered our dirty laundry and took it to a nearby laundromat, where they washed everything for 10 PEN (about 60 CZK) by the next day — and they didn’t even ruin our wool clothes.

The next day was all about relaxing, and in the evening we took a night bus to Lima. This time we traveled with a much cheaper company — Allinbus — which cost about half as much as the bus we took to Huaraz (108 PEN total, about 660 CZK) and was perfectly fine. It didn’t have Wi-Fi or movie screens, but since the Wi-Fi hadn’t worked most of the previous trip anyway, we didn’t mind being without it. In Lima, we only transferred — we didn’t want to stay — so after a few early-morning hours of waiting, we boarded another bus, this time just a 4-hour ride to Paracas.

An hour after leaving Lima, we received an email saying we could pick up our documents for the postal vote — of course, in Lima. A pity it didn’t arrive a bit earlier, because now we knew we’d have to return to Lima once more. But we had fought hard for the right to vote by mail — at first, they didn’t even want to add us to the voter list. We had to remind the embassy official that we weren’t required to prove residency abroad, and that the law doesn’t specify how long one has to stay in a country for it to count as a “long-term stay.” So we definitely didn’t want to lose the chance to vote just because we hadn’t picked up our papers.

To be continued…