So, here we are again. It’s been a while, and it feels that way too. Every time I start a story, I always wonder if I can write it interesting enough. The idea that I could keep it short is something I don’t believe anymore haha. The title of this update is Peru, but I hadn’t actually finished Colombia yet. I’m going to give it a quick and brief (yes, really?) description before I move on to one of the most beautiful countries I’ve ever been to: Peru!
But first, a little side note (I told you I couldn’t keep it brief). I got up this morning, spent over an hour on the phone with Carlo in Dutch, then sent some voice memos in English, spoke to the staff in Spanish at this café, and then got chatting with a guy next to me in Italian. I thought that was a nice moment of realization to share. And, there’s another language to be added to this story… (ooh, exciting)
I finished my previous story at a bus stop in Medellín and then went to Salento, Cali, the Tatacoa Desert, and Bogotá. So, that’s it. Short enough. No, without any jokes or gags, the last few weeks in Colombia were really fun. I mentioned that I was alone again, but that didn’t last long. I met Kingi (a girl from England) in Salento, and we did a day hike to the tallest palm trees in the world and a coffee tour together. That was fun, especially since we both hated the other people on our coffee tour. British and Dutch sarcasm go well together, so you can imagine the jokes. In Cali, the birthplace of salsa, I couldn’t help but put my hips to the test. Luckily, I’m blessed with Italian blood and can mask the Dutch stiffness a bit. Or rather, my dad is probably a better dancer than my mamma, so maybe it’s the other way around (sorry, mamma). The fact is, I took salsa lessons, and what’s more: the biggest festival in Cali happened to be happening coincidentally the same days I was there. That “coincidentally” sounds very sarcastic, but if you’ve traveled with me, you know I don’t plan much. This one was no exception. And luck is on my side in life because I’m always in the right place at the right time. Just ask Younes about Madeira. And yes, that festival was a lot of fun and very crowded. A day trip to the desert and on to Bogota, because from there I flew to Peru. I even went to the biggest gay club in the Southern Hemisphere by myself (please don’t fact-check this), and that was a funny experience too. If you’re ever in need of a confidence boost as a guy, I highly recommend going to a gay club!
Okay, Peru. I’ve already made a big splash, and that’s not without reason, because what a country this is. I started in Lima but didn’t stay there very long. I took a food tour, ate intestines and a heart (both delicious, by the way!), and then it was quickly on to Huaraz: Peru’s hiker’s paradise. On the bus ride, the windshield fell out, and I was able to stretch my legs through the open window. Haha, that was a funny, random moment. The bus drivers (long ride, so they took turns) apologized to me, but I just saw it as a window of opportunity to laugh at the situation.
In Huaraz, they advise you to acclimatize for a few days to the altitude of +3,000 meters before doing a hike (usually +4,000 meters), but I felt confident after a few days in Bogota at around 2,500 meters. I arrived at 11:00 PM and then left at 5:00 AM for a hike to Laguna 69 (haha). I did that with my hostel, and there I met Belle (a girl from Australia). The hike was quite challenging, but so worth it. Laguna 69 was one of the most beautiful places we’d both been (yes, in our lives). The water was so blue, the mountains so dark, and the snowcapped peaks so white. We were pretty quick, so we arrived at the lake in peace, and our lunch tasted even better. It’s funny because we talked about it together; you create such great memories with people you met literally minutes before.
But the real reason to go to Huaraz was for the four-day Santa Cruz hike. This was an organized tour that I booked solo, so you’re somewhat dependent on the people in your group. And I was lucky with that. I was picked up first, and then Juul and Saar, two friends from the Netherlands, boarded the bus with whom I quickly clicked. In total, we had a group of 15 people from all different countries and ages, and I hung out mainly with Juul, Saar, Grace (a girl from New Zealand), and Renzo (a guy from Lima, Peru). And don’t ask me how, but I quickly established myself as the animal whisperer of the tour. Or well, partly my own fault, since I immediately let out an iiiiii-aaaa when I saw the first donkey. A donkey doesn’t bump into the same stone twice (a Dutch saying), but I’m not a donkey, so I bumped into the same stone for the rest of the tour. Several animals passed by, but the rooster turned out to be my specialty. Every morning, after the alarms went off, I did my best rooster impression from the tent. Everyone in the group knew it was me, of course, but the kitchen staff actually thought there was a rooster at our camp every morning for a few days. I was as proud as a rooster.
The tour itself is difficult to describe because it’s best to look at the photos. But this is a blog, not Instagram, so I’ll do my best to describe it. We started the tour with our tour guide, Jordy, who told us to “be responsible for your own life” and then listed a laundry list of things we had to bring. The fact that all the bags were already packed and we were literally two minutes before the start didn’t matter much. Thanks anyway, Jordy. I’m going to buy some mosquito repellent now. We slept in tents at night, and it was really cold; it was around or below freezing. I’ve never slept in so many layers. I slept in the tent with Grace, and every night before we fell asleep, we treated the whole camp to a laugh concert of at least half an hour. I think that was our way of keeping warm in the tent. That’s a good way to describe our group within the larger group; we had so many inside jokes in no time. They’re truly hilarious, but you know… if you were there. The Dutch girls were brushing up on their Spanish, and Renzo was happy to help. So, desayuno (breakfast) became “they say you know” and aceituna (olive) became “I see a tuna”!
We walked a total of 60 km, gained 1,500 meters of elevation, and climbed to an altitude of 4,750 meters. We swam in a glacier lake (cold), and had tons of laughs (fun). We had a truly fantastic time.
Then it was time to head back to Lima. I was initially going to go straight to Huacachina, but I saw there was another great event in Lima. A concert? A festival? No way, a football match, of course. The Peruvian national team had to play Paraguay for the World Cup qualifiers, and I’d naturally like to stick around for that. I asked Renzo on the hike if he’d be interested in going with me, and he said: “Yeah, I go sometimes, could be fun to go together.” I thought, okay, only if you’re up for it bro. Turns out that idiot was always a hardcore member, a fact he’d kept well hidden. We went there with Grace and tried to sing along to the Spanish songs: “ ¡vamos Peruanos… esta noche tenemos que ganar!” Renzo took us to a local restaurant and was the perfect host. Hopefully, I can welcome him to the Netherlands someday; I’ll buy him a cheese sandwich! The rest of the days in Lima were chill. I’d rented an Airbnb for myself, and Grace had never watched Rush Hour (how could she?), so 1+1=2: movie night! It was nice after all those days of hiking, I must say.
On to Huacachina (bless you), which is like a mirage. A small village surrounded by sand. Here I went on a buggy tour and went down the dunes, boadyboarding. Yes, three days later, there was still sand in places you don’t want sand. But I had a good laugh. So, write your hurts in sand. Ready to continue on the night bus to Arequipa. Here I had a few days to myself. Delicious food, gym, football game, cinema, aka: on dates with myself! And even ended up in bed with myself—a true Casanova, I am. After a few days, Ruben, a guy I did the food tour with in Lima, also came to Arequipa. Together we tried another local delicacy: alpaca steak! It was quite nice if you ask me. We met up with Juul and Saar afterward for more local treats: pisco sours! It was great to see the girls again and hear about their trip; it was a very successful evening.
The next day I went to the Colca Canyon, or rather: Little Netherlands (even smaller?). I ended up in a hostel where literally only Dutch people were staying. I have to admit that I generally try to avoid Dutch people, or let’s put it another way: I definitely don’t seek them out. Here I couldn’t avoid them, but honestly, it was still fun. The recipe for the Colca Canyon was: sleep in Cabanaconde, hike to Llahuar, and then chill in hot springs and a cold river! That morning we’d first gone to a viewpoint to see Peru’s national birds: the condors. On the hike, I ran into Jessy & Lisa (from the Netherlands, but living in Aruba!), and we hung out together in the hot springs. We drank a few beers and played a few games of Yahtzee (could it be more Dutch?). It’s an understatement, but Yahtzee wasn’t my game. So much so that my sympathy level was sky-high. It was painful, though. No dice.
Almost 24 hours later, I arrived in Cusco and had rented another Airbnb to recover from this long journey. In Cusco, I met Robin (a guy from Germany), and the next day we went to the Sacred Valley together. We also met Jessy & Lisa there, and so Cusco turned out to be a melting pot of people I’d already met on my trip—great fun! The next day, I went to a football game with Frederike (a girl from Switzerland). I’d met Frederike a few months ago in Panama, so imagine that. That’s one of the (few?) advantages of Instagram, I have to say: staying in touch with people. We bought a shirt with Machu Picchu on it and tried to cheer Cusco to victory (no luck). Merel, Emma, & Selke (from uuuuuuu) were also in Cusco. They stayed in my dorm in Arequipa. We didn’t really do anything there other than chat in the dorm and at the rooftop bar, but we hit it off really well. They arrived a day later on the night bus and had to wait a long time before they could check into their hostel. So I offered them the chance to sleep over at my Airbnb while I went to the Sacred Valley, and they agreed (you raised me well, parents!). That evening, we had dinner and drinks together, which was really nice.
Then, time for the Salkantay trail to Machu Picchu, the ultimate event in Peru. 1 world wonder. 5 days of hiking. Ready? Go! I started this tour alone again and can count myself lucky how lucky I always am with the groups. Or are most people on earth just nice people? After all that traveling, I know the answer. What do you think? We were a group of 16 people, but first things first: we needed a team name. Our guide, Omar, suggested a few, but they were all rejected, but then… the sexy condors? Yes! That was it. And believe me, five days later, every single person on the trail knew we were the sexy condors. Who had to imitate a bird of prey call again at the first collective yelp? Yes, the animal whisperer of Peru. But, after a few raised eyebrows, everyone quickly joined in. And so it was every time: whooo 1, 2, 3… Sexy Condors! Rakah Rakah! And all while flapping your arms.
I’d heard that days 2 & 4 would be the toughest. Day 1 was a piece of cake. Well, day 1 was not a piece of cake. A steep climb to a lake. Oh well, a nice warm-up for the rest, so to speak. Like I said: the group was really great, but it’s unfortunately impossible to single everyone out individually here, but a few names will follow. The only other solo traveler in the group, Jan (a guy from Belgium), was chosen to be my sleeping buddy. Luckily, we got along well and even spoke Dutch. We started our days early (usually around 4:30 AM), and for those who haven’t had the honor of waking up with me, the morning playlist always comes on in the morning: “It’s 5 o’clock in the morning, conversation got boring…” I think Grace and Jan are still going crazy about it.
Our group was often the first to eat breakfast, and the coca tea (indeed, made from the plant cocaine is made from, so that “teaspoon” had come in handy after all, right?) poured freely to wake everyone up. Day 2 would be difficult. The Gringo Killer was lurking. But he didn’t kill these gringos. Gringos 1, Andes Mountains 0. Together with Simon & Lukas (guys from Austria), we flew up the mountain like sexy condors, up to 4,800 meters: rakah rakah! Day 3 was much more relaxing, a shorter hike and time for hot springs. Wonderful, I can tell you. And after the hot springs, it was time for crazy hour, as Omar described it. Summary of the evening: Omar dancing on the table while the whole group shouted: “Take it off! Take it off!” The alarm clock the next morning was our biggest enemy, and let’s be honest: with a hangover, we headed into a tough day 4. But: a man in the evening, a man in the morning (another Dutch saying). I’d planned to start the hike with earbuds in, but after singing along, it turned into a group concert. Earbuds out, music at full volume, and everyone singing along. The sexy condors can do anything. We picked up the pace, and Oscar (a Danish guy) and I left the group to change the music from singalongs to rap. When Stormzy came on and we sang “Shut up!” at the top of our lungs several times, we tried to reassure the old woman we passed that we were actually quite nice guys.
We’d done it. We didn’t have to climb Inca Flat (read: steep) anymore. It was all downhill from here, thankfully literally. But the sexy condors wouldn’t be the sexy condors if we didn’t seek out a challenge. Walking down? That’s for the other groups. We ran down. We ran down in fifteen minutes, something that was supposed to take an hour, or even once in 1.5 minutes for a 10-minute stretch. It’s a miracle that no one got hurt. Or maybe that’s just the quality of the sexy condors.
But let’s be honest: day 4 was definitely tough. Especially because you already have a lot of kilometers under your belt (oh yeah, and that hangover). So when we arrived for lunch and I ran into Merel, Emma, and Selke again, I had to apologize for running into me at a worse time: I was completely exhausted. Luckily, they understood because they were in the same situation 24 hours ago. Another three hours of walking to Aguas Calientes, and then a hotel would be waiting for us. I walked these 3 hours the entire time with Helena (a girl from Portugal, but living in England), with whom I had already built a good relationship (read: she was often the victim of my jokes). Deep in conversation, we missed the fact that we could have seen Machu Picchu along the way, and took the wrong route, which led us through train tunnels. When we told Omar, he burst out laughing: Through the tunnels? Seriously? No, really? Hahahaha, that’s absolutely not allowed. Oh well, we’d made it: we’d literally found the light at the end of the tunnel. On the way to our hotel, I saw Ajax playing somewhere and asked Helena if it was okay to watch the last 10 minutes. Helena isn’t a football fan, and she certainly won’t become one after seeing what was going on there. I was already regretting giving it a shot… #Heintingaout
Then Machu Picchu. Beforehand, it seemed like the sexy condors would all be split up by the different walking routes and entry times, but we always find each other. You just shout “rakah rakah!” a few times, and the group was almost complete again. It’s hard to describe, but Machu Picchu was so cool to see and chill out there. A great way to end this trip. We walked back to Aguas Calientes with the boys, jumped naked in the river, and were back in Cusco after a seven-hour drive. What a time we had!
The past few days in Cusco, I spent a lot of time with Aida & Helena, two friends. Helena & I had never seen Paddington in Peru, so we changed that. In the evening, I went to another football game with Matt (who was with my host family in Medellín—I told you it was a mix of people, right?) & his friend from back home, Bren. That was really fun because we were eager to see each other again. And you might see these names pop up again in a few months; we have some plans in the works.
I said it, you know, I can’t keep it short. Hats off if you’ve finished it. Yes, Mom, it can’t be long enough for you, I know. Meanwhile, I’m typing this bit on the plane. Where to? I’ll give you a hint that they don’t speak Spanish in this country. My next few weeks are going to be great with friends from home taking turns, that’s all I’ll say for now. So I’m not going to live under a rock like Patrick from Spongebob, and I’m going to enjoy it to the MAX. Well, now you know what I mean. Ciao!