Exploring the White City and the world’s (second?) deepest canyon

Our arrival in Peru from Bolivia was interesting – our bus was unexpectedly delayed for 8 hours on a high pass because of snow and ice on the road! This seemed all the more unbelievable when we arrived in the dry, dusty valley which is home to Arequipa – the White City. Built almost exclusively of sillar, a pearly white volcanic stone, Peru’s second biggest city (people here like reminding you of that – they resent the idea that Lima is the heart of the country) is located in an arid valley at the foot of the cone-shaped, snow-capped El Misti volcano (5822m high), guarded on either side by the towering sentinels of Chachani (6057m) and Pichu-Pichu (5669m). The city is partly full of elegant colonial buildings, plant-filled courtyards, cobbled streets, expensive restaurants and wild nightclubs. The other half consists of narrow, traffic filled streets lined with dilapidated turn-of-the-century buildings housing hole-in-the-wall fast-food joints and little rustic hostels. Both of the city’s faces have a wonderful charm, and we were happy to be able to spend some time exploring (and celebrating a great St Patrick’s Day party in our hostel!) while gathering information for our next detour – to the acclaimed Colca Canyon. 

The impressive cathedral in the colonial heart of Arequipa

White volcanic-rock buildings in Arequipa

The courtyard of our hostel 'Bothy' - the site of a wonderfully crazy St Patrick's Day party!

 

Twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, overshadowed by the immense volcanic peaks of Sabancaya (still actively smoking!) and Ampato (both over 6000m), and cradling the roaring Río Colca in its depths, the Colca Canyon cuts a dizzyingly deep slash through the Peruvian highlands. There is some discussion as to whether it is actually the world’s deepest canyon – it is more than 3000m at its deepest point - but neighboring Cotahuasi Canyon is said to be 335m deeper. Either way, it is extremely deep!  We were awed by the views from the bus as we cruised along the rim of the chasm on our way to Cabanaconde, a tiny village teetering of the edge of the canyon. From there we got even more up-close-and-personal with the dizzying heights on the 2 hour hike down, down, down – 1300m down into the depths of the canyon.

Entering the canyon on the bus - the wider, flatter eastern end is lined with ancient (but still cultivated) terraces

Looking down into the canyon from Cabanaconde - down we go!

A little guy with a big voice. Perhaps his perch poked him?

 When we finally arrived on jelly-legs at the bottom, we were rewarded for our efforts with the perfect little Sangalle Oasis – a green jewel dotted with palm trees, multi-coloured flowers and brilliant blue swimming pools. The cool shade and the constant sound of flowing water added to the feeling of refuge and calm. We booked into a cosy mud-brick and bamboo hut and jumped straight into the pool – heaven J

Looking down on the Oasis from above - nearly there!

Our lovely little hut

The beautiful Oasis (usually we were alone, the tour groups never stayed long :)

Lovely flowers and inviting swimming pools....perfect!

Despite the lack of electricity and some interesting room-mates (see below!), we felt right at home in the oasis and decided to stay and use it as a base instead of moving on as originally planned. It turned out to be a good decision, because after climbing up and down the opposite side of the canyon to visit the villages of Malata and Cosñihua the next day, a refreshing swim,  a meal of mangos from the pool-side tree  and a couple of freshly-made pisco sours (here is the recipe – yum!) were just what the doctor ordered.J It was so lovely there that we took our time leaving on the third day – relaxing by the pool until the midday heat had waned before tackling the daunting climb back up to Cabanaconde. 

The bridge over the narrow base of the canyon

Crossing the Río Colca

Little lizard trying to hide from us 

Another little guy with a loud voice

The church in Malata

Passing some mules on the way up to Malata

Our friendly roommates! 

The wonderful pool! 

Mic 'picking' mangoes

Ripe and ready to eat!

Yum!

Freshly made pisco sours - delish!

The next morning we were up again at 5am (minus the muscle aches we had expected – we must be fitter than we think!) to catch the bus back down the valley to the renowned lookout point Cruz del Condor. As the name suggests, the mirador situated over the canyon’s deepest point is famous for its condors – the guidebooks told us sightings are guaranteed, so we arrived at 7am with high expectations. We were not to be disappointed – during the two hours we spent perched on the edge of the drop-off, we were rewarded by an amazing aerial show put on by more than 15 condors of varying ages – smaller (small = “only” 2m wingspan), brown juveniles of about 5 years of age, mature black and white females and males with wingspans of up to three meters and the distinctive (very ugly) red and yellow faces. Riding the thermals rising out of the plummeting depths of the canyon, the majestic birds spiraled slowly upward, soaring on vast, outstretched wings within arms’ reach of us, swooping low over our heads to settle on rock outcrops a few meters away to give us the evil eye before launching off into the foggy abyss for another round. We were completely enthralled – even the arrival of hordes of tourists on organized tours at around 8.30am couldn’t ruin the magic of the place. We stayed for more than two hours, until the combination of warmth from the rising sun and cool, wet air ascending from the canyon resulted in a cloud of thick white fog, blocking the views of both the valley below and the condors above. Then we hopped on the next local bus heading back to Arequipa – still hardly able to believe the magic of the scenes we had just witnessed. Colca Canyon certainly lived up to its reputation as a must-see in Peru!