Fri 19.09.25

I woke up feeling warm and strong despite the cold air in my lungs and the cold stones beneath my feet. The hostel room was colder than I’d hoped, as there was a gaping hole above the window.

Still, I’d been given my own room, a toilet that was pretty much my own, and warm blankets: astronomically more comfortable than a cold night at our next campsite: Gashpapampa (Quechua for: the cold place).

I was the first at breakfast, and soon arrived Rosha, as I expected. After seven days with the team, whom I was starting to think of more as family, I was starting to learn everyone’s habits and mannerisms. So it took me by surprise that Oates and Eileen arrived next, both really hungry. It seemed like our descent to 3600 had cured their lack of appetites!

For breakfast we were served french toast, a bowl of fruit, and liquid yoghurt. I enjoyed the lucuma flavoured one quite a bit.

It was going to be a big day, so I loaded up on as much carbs as possible.

Climbing Strong

The climb to the viewpoint, at around 4800, was long but pleasant. For most of it we were walking in the valley along a waterfall, protected from the elements by the mountains around us.

Eileen was feeling particularly strong, so she wizzed past us and the other hiking groups in front. The rest of us found this funny as Robin had joked “tomorrow she will run, and after tomorrow she will fly” a few days earlier.

I also felt quite good… good enough that I felt I could run for some time! This reminded me of an early memory from my first few days in Peru (which felt like a lifetime ago!).

I remember the first time walking the ramp to my hostel, Alpes Huaraz, after a gruelling 33 hour journey! The ramp is around 30 meters long, and has a gradient between 20-30 degrees. At sea level this might cause some shortness of breath if walked quickly.

But at altitude, my heart pounded like it would pop with the next beat.

After each of my acclimatisation hikes (one of which went to 5k!), I would excitedly walk up the ramp to see if my body had adjusted to it… the heartaches didn’t get any better.

So while I cruised to the viewpoint I made a mental promise to myself to try running up the ramp once I got back to Huaraz.

The Cold Place

The ground was snowy when we arrived, but the air still warm.

We were back to a vegetarian lunch, which I didn’t mind too much (I hoped though that we hadn’t run out of meat!). The soup was excellent, and the best of the trip by far. It was very celery heavy, which is something I don’t often enjoy, but it paired particularly well with some of the other herbs.

I think 8 days of hiking had taken their toll on us, as the mess tent was deserted after lunch. Mr. Kerr, Sarí, Cabo (one of the independent hikers) and I decided to make use of the afternoon: we took the remains of a snowman left by previous hiking groups and started playing ice games: “hot” potato and a game that involved pushing the really heavy torso of the butchered snowman using our non-dominant legs. I’m grateful I didn’t pull any muscles.

Afterwards we went a bit further than camp for some more views.

It was peaceful.

Beyond our campsite we could see dunes of mountains.

I found myself detached from my body again: I reflected on the trip.

I left feeling bittersweet, at the time because of the trip, but today because of my privilege: finding peace amongst the guilty.

Today I feel that it was a false peace.

Today I feel like the scholar I wrote about: He who once passed through the sharp eye of his needle, blind to the haystack.

But today I also feel alive, because I fought, and fight, against the fear of being true to myself.

I hope that the pale stones of the Cordillera Huayhuash forgive me.

I don’t wish to elaborate on my bittersweet feelings any further. Instead I will write about how society misconstrues maturity as killing the boy, and take these next words with a pinch of salt as I have not thought them through too much.

As I have experienced it, people don’t understand what they mean by maturity, but they typically associate it with entering a new stage of life, and expecting with it, the letting go of all things from the previous stage. In the name of seriousness, we are robbed of the joys of childhood.

In my view, a mature boy is no oxymoron. Why should adulthood mean that we expunge from ourselves our desire to play?

To me, maturity is taking responsibility. If you have the courage to stand to the difficult conversations and decisions of life without running away, then the occasional running around the playground is only beneficial.

Dinner was a rather unseasoned Lomo Saltado… rudely interrupted by a hailstorm. Gashpapampa was staying true to its name. We didn’t stay in the tent for much longer.

Sat 20.09.25

I woke up for my routine altitude induced 4 am piss. But it was so cold that I couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards. I scrunched up so small to feel some warmth that my joints started to hurt. I left the tent to get some blood flowing.

It was a slow morning, but the bittersweet feelings from the day before were gone: I was present again, and very happy to be with people whom I considered family.

I think this mood was shared amongst everyone else: we were all excited.

For breakfast we were treated with eggs again.

Almost Flying

I felt very strong. Every step felt invigorating.

We got to the final viewpoint of our trip: one allowing us to see the peaks of the Huayhuash mountain range standing like royal guards protecting the landscape.

I felt strong enough to climb a bit further for a clearer view.

Falling Fast!

After the viewpoint we walked on the flats for a good, and the Andes blessed us with endless waves of mountains, beautifully melting into one another.

Our unuttered fears were realized immediately on sight of our next and final campsite: it was going to be a monster of a descent. 800 meters over (what I would estimate as) 3 kilometers. My knees were not happy.

It was better than I expected though, for with every pang I’d look around me and mutter: WOW.

This campsite may have been the most beautiful of all, but it was also the most crowded… and a massive contrast to the last two campsites where we’d barely seen a soul.

After a quick look around I was delighted to find the other hiking group that we’d lost! In the end it turned out that on day 6 (where it was snowing as we walked) they had climbed to the pass, but instead of continuing further they went back down and walked through the valley towards Huayllapa. Sadly, Roy and Shabestan had decided to stop hiking, as neither were feeling well. I regret not having gotten their contact details before the hike.

For lunch we had soup and a tuna pasta.

Air in my Lungs

I was the only one thirsty for more walking. I asked Robin if we could see Solteracocha (single lake), but he said that he wasn’t sure of the weather.

So I decided to go for some solo walking… it had been some time since I’d had alone time!

Soon after, I was reminded again to stay humble in the mountains, for I mistook the scale of my destination as it being very close. It was taking forever for me to reach it.

Once I got to where I thought the lake would be, I noticed that I needed to climb a good 50 meters to get a view of it. Recognising that those 50 meters would require at least 30 more minutes of walking, I satisfied myself with a view of the lake spilling into the stream. I was very confident about the lessons I had learnt on this trip to Peru. I was very comfortable not going the whole way.

This proved to be an excellent decision, for the weather was turning sour as I walked back.

Out of curiosity (and slightly because I feared the clouds), I decided to run back.

I did 2 kilometers in 16 minutes at 4000 meters. I was super impressed that on the flats it felt like I was back at sea level! While running, I was transported back to another memory from my first days in Peru.

In my first morning in Huaraz, I passed by a bunch of kids playing basketball. I felt an itch to join them. I really missed how liberating it felt hearing the echoes of the ball bouncing on the hard floor. It had been two years since I’d last played, due to silly injuries that I’d inflicted on myself in the summers.

The boy in me was about to join in but the man took over: I was not well acclimatized.

The state of flow I got into on the flats of the run gave me confidence that I was ready.

The inclines however, even the slightest ones at 3 or 4%, were still very tough. I needed to walk on each one and then to walk a bit more afterwards to recover. I was thinking then that the ramp to the hostel might still be too difficult for me.

As for altitude sickness? It hit me slightly after I cooled down from the run. This confirmed to me that adrenaline can be your biggest enemy at altitude: if your max is a 15 out of 10, and at sea level you don’t exceed 12, then at altitude adjust it to 9.

Scientific aspects of this experience aside, the mini hike was stunning and vastly different to the views in the rest of the mountain range. The mountain to my left was bursting with greenery.

Promises of Pizza

Back at camp I was delighted to get pizza for snacks! This was a running joke between Maphre and I: both of us pizza lovers were expecting some as was advertised by Paul on the program for the hike!

Maphre jokingly mentioned this to Robin earlier in the day, and Robin, with his childhood spirit, made it happen.

I love my Neapolitan pizzas dearly, but below is evidence that it is love, not skill, that makes a meal tasty:

And for dinner, I had another close encounter with fava beans. I was served a soup and was told explicitly that it didn’t contain fava beans. Now, I am a trusting person, but at that moment a gut instinct told me to wait: moments later my soup was replaced for a quinoa one. We also had a lovely chicken dish.

The night ended with the crew coming into the mess tent with mulled wine (which I politely declined). They asked us each for a word, and I, perhaps out of the pressure of these situations and the expectation to say something in Spanish, had very little to say:

No tengo mucho palabras. Todo estaba perfecto.

Sun 21.09.25

It felt strange to pack my items for the last time.

We had a final delicious omelette and started hiking.

Robin, Let Me Fly!

Unfortunately, Gwyneth had injured her knee a few days earlier so she needed to ride a horse. Robin was the guide, and at some point our paths had to diverse. Robin told me to take the lead.

And so, with a perfectly flat path and my lungs full of the free man’s air we walked fast to our destination.

I have mentioned repeatedly in my articles that the views were spectacular, and all so different, and I must repeat again that this final day was no different. We were walking on a cliff edge for at least 10 kilometers, and we could see so much with our eyes. In that moment I was realizing that my favorite views are those with elevation and depth where you can see so much texture beneath you. I really wish the photos could do the landscape justice.

The final portion of the hike got really sketchy again. We needed to do another steep descent. My knees were so unhappy but thankfully the gradients were gentler on them, and the terrain far, far less slippery.

At some point during our descent, I suddenly heard shouting laughter behind me and saw Robin, Mohammad Patis and one of the donkey drivers from the other hiking group running down the mountain in massive strides, just as I used to down the stairs as a kid! It made me so happy and reminded me again of the reflections I had at Gashpapampa playing ice games. Play is a necessary component of life.

I later found out that the reason for the commotion was that Mohammad Patis had run away with Robin’s hat, and Robin was running behind him to get it.

Today as I write this, I notice that I play these games too, though I am much more timid. I like to pull people’s legs with silly jokes, and to sneak behind them to give them jump scares.

I hope to preserve these elements of boyhood, even as I grow more mature.

¡Salud!

I was delighted to see Paul at the village of Llamac! Part of me doubted that he’d commute four hours just to see us.

He came just to make us Pisco sour, so out of respect (and of course, curiosity) I tasted some. It was absolutely delicious and something that an alternate version of myself would love to have regularly.

For lunch we were treated to Pachamanca, which is more a method of preparing food than it is a dish. In the simplest sense: it is potatoes, meat and… (you guessed it) fava beans cooked in hot stones.

First, an oven like structure is made with stones, and then a flame is lit inside, heating them. The oven is then broken apart to its foundation, where sweet potatoes and potatoes are placed. Some of the stones are then laid on top of them, fully covering them. After this, marinated meat (pork and chicken) in paper bags are placed on top of the stones, and subsequently covered with more stones. Following this, fava beans are added, and then covered with hay. As I understand it, this traps steam. Finally the structure is covered with what seemed to be cardboard/plastic, and dirt.

After around 40 minutes of cooking, the structure is broken down again and the individual pieces recovered.

I must say that I seriously enjoyed the meats, and the sweet potato was divine. This was my last close call with fava beans.

Busted Knees

My knees had been through a lot on the hike, but it was the van ride that killed them. I got the middle seat in the front… with no leg space. The 4 hour journey almost killed me.

Despite the horrible pain I was going through, a few things caught my attention, and they remain very strong memories of mine.

Firstly, I was captivated by the tall slender trees that were dancing in the wind. They are so graceful, and I would like to live life the same way they sway between the gusts.

Secondly, I was put in a trance by some of the peaks of the Cordillera Blanca, splitting the dark clouds. For a good portion of the ride I was just staring at them, not blinking. I felt some fear towards them, I felt some desire to conquer them, but mostly I was in awe by the sight of them. I left Peru bittersweet: sad that I was leaving, but happy because I was confident I would be back. But to this day I am unsure if I would visit the Andes again.

The Last Supper

There was an awkward silence as most of us waited for the receptionist at the hostel to give us our rooms. Everyone but Sarí had booked rooms at the same hostel. I hadn’t booked anything in advance so took up Eileen’s offer for her room: she was leaving the same night.

When it came to our turn, there was a problem: the receptionist said that there was another person checking in after Eileen, so I needed to find a place to stay. I was happy: I wanted a stab at the ramp so went back to Alpes Huaraz, this time with a fully loaded up 60 liter back and a heavy duffel.

I ran up the ramp with all my remaining strength.

And I felt strong.

I was out of breath but no different than in school running the bleep test.

I was amazed at how acclimatized I felt.

I took a really long and hot shower afterwards to clean myself. I think I washed myself five or six times to remove all the dirt.

I then joined Sarí, Michael and Grant for dinner at the excellent restaurant Illa.

The food was excellent as always, and it was a pleasant goodbye. I was a bit saddened that Oates, Mr. Kerr and Rosha had decided not to join us. I guessed that 10 days had started to cause rifts in the family. This was to be expected, and I didn’t think much of it.

My opinion evolved soon after, as I met Timothy and Bob on the way back to Alpes. How strange for my journey to end with the same people it started with. I asked them a bit about their experience, and was ever more grateful for my group.

Their group was six by the end of it, with Roy and Shabestan, and another duo leaving after Huayllapa. To make matters worse, the last three days of their hike were a misery as there were some disagreements between the remaining hikers. As I understood it, their final meals together were silent and dry.

This put my initial reservations about my group into perspective. I had wished for a young group where I could really belong, but instead I got a family and for that I am very grateful. We were different enough that I don’t think many of us would become close friends, but not so different that we’d have issues we couldn’t deal with.

I revisited the reasons why I was grateful for each person:

• Mr Kerr for bringing a nugget of experience/information to each conversation. I really enjoyed learning from you.

• Rosha for voicing her opinions when others stay silent. Many times you mentioned the thing we were all thinking, but hadn’t the courage to say.

• Mr Kerr and Rosha for showing that marriages can remain playful even after 27 years!

• Oates and Eileen for reminding us all to be perseverant and always push for longer. You both struggled with the hike but showed intense resilience. Eileen: you always did so with a smile on your face, and Oates: you never once doubted yourself.

• Sarí for looking out for me and bringing a young energy to the group. You brought the games that I had forgotten to bring!

• Maphre and Gwyneth, and Michael and Grant for always looking out for each other. You reminded me of the strong bond of relationships, platonic or otherwise.

• Robin for guiding us and maintaining a pace that worked for everyone. Our team remained 10 strong, and we can only credit you for that.

• Sami for the nicknames you’ve given me, and for always greeting me with a smile. I also really appreciate you for taking care of those struggling with altitude sickness in the trip.

• Mohammad Patis for making excellent and healthy food throughout the trip. Each soup was soul warming and arguably the reason that I didn’t get ill this trip. I was glad to have tried a wide range of Peruvian foods that I wouldn’t have been able to otherwise.

• Jawad and Jeffrey for being the silent soldiers of the team. You carried our tents, personal items and food every day, and you packed our tents in the freezing hours of the morning where our fingers were feeling the warmth of our teas.

My final activity of the night was going back to the hostel. I sprinted up the ramp again, this time with no gear.

I felt great, but also noticed that I was starting to lose my acclimatization.

However, this didn’t stress me out. I felt happy and grateful.

I thought of Robin’s plagiarized words: today is a gift, tomorrow a mystery.

And with that, and a lung full of air, a true privilege on this day in particular, I thought: Life is good.