Hiking in Huaraz Highñamds

After 3 days of traveling through the arid dusrty desert of Northern Peru, it was quite a suprise waking up with a freezing cold right cheek stuck to a frosted bus windown. Peering out into the misty dawn, the sun was just poking its head out from behind the snow capped ridges of the Cordillas Blancas. Thick fog clung to the dark moody landscape, as we wound our way through the frozen moores, past icy rivers and tiny little houses scattered along the roadside.

Huaraz itself, often missed by most gingo trailers, was absolutely beautiful. From the roof terrace of our hostel, you could bask in the warm sun in the day, and snuggle by the open fire at night, taking in the views of the snowy peaks that surrounded you on all sides. It is of course these snowy peaks that are the reason people go in the first place, though the temptation to just curl up with a good book and a nice glass of wine is very hard to resist.

I managed to tear myself away for two harkcore hikes. Both involed brutally early starts, peaks of over 4600m and getting very cold and wet indeed. All in all they both nearly killed me. The first due to the section of "ropes of ladders" which should apprently "only be tackled by experienced climbers", which is dragged our sorry selves over to reach the most pictureque picnic spots I have ever had the pelasre of nibbling a tuna sandwich at. No bigger than your average swimming pool, the lake starting deep blue purple in the middle, changing through all the colours of the rainbow, to green, yellow, orange, and ending at the shoreline with fringes of bright red and pink. Totally worth it. I wasnt going for a dip though, thats for sure! We left that to the crazy Russians.

Just in case I didnt love Huaraz eough by then, we arrived back to one of the craziest moist hectic carnivals I have ever seen. It had been going on for days, marching bands, pounding the streets from dawn until dusk, but this was different. The whole town was in full fiesta. Hundrededs of competing dance troops, dressed to impress. Huge feathered head-dresses, sequined sashes, tassled tunics, beaded skirts, faces covered in mirrored covered masks, and enough lace and glitter to make Lily Savage blush. All accompanied by 20 piece bands all battling each other, sweat dripping from their faces.

All over town, families were enjoying the show, which meant the filthy children running wild, letting off fireworks left right and center, old men were getting smashed on Pisco, and the women were dressed in their best wears, big trilby hats, bright skirts, clashing tights and little witchy buckle-up shoes, chowing down on spit roasted hog and god knows what else. What a night. And what a way to remember Huaraz.