Peru (1) - Peaceful Hikes and RABID DOGS ATTACK!

From Lima: a freezing cold bus journey through glaciers and treacherous mountain paths into a roaring red sunset; we find ourselves in Huaraz, a dusty mountain town in the West-Peruvian Andes historically plagued by earthquakes, avalanches and an unbelievably boring nightlife.

Chillin' - with the locals

We are the only 'whiteys' in the town. We walk to our hostel through rubble-roads and bustling markets; 2000 year-old obese woman scream 'GRINGO!' at us as we pass, then curse us in ancient tongues if we don't give them spare change. Dave got cursed by the wrinkliest woman on the planet and as a result had hilarious 'repeated mares´ for the next week (until we found a 'lucky seed' in the Amazon...but more on that later).

Just some absolute fucking nutcase walking her alpaca

After 5 minutes of walking we were completely out of breath; at an altitude of over 3000m (and completely un-climatized) we had to actively search for oxygen molecules in order to survive. Undeterred, we decided that the next day we should hike up 'Huascarian' (the highest tropical mountain in zein veld) to Laguna 69, on the basis that it has a hilarious name and is supposedly very beautiful. So we bought copious amounts of altitude medication and got to it.

Walkin da' pig

The view from the bottom

The hike itself took around 6 hours and was absolutely knackering, what with us not being used to the high altitude, and having eaten 4-course meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner nearly every day in Peru beforehand (great soup, a massive plate of chicken and rice, a disgusting flan dessert and unlimited pear-juice is served in almost every restaurant and costs 4 Soles, or 90p a head).

After some awesome views, 9 mild heart-attacks and innumerable cramps between us, we did eventually make it to the top. What we found there was more than worth it; as we turned the last corner an unimaginably sapphire-blue lake came into sight. So blue in fact that it looked almost as if it had been photoshopped into the mountain for our amusement, or that God ran out of water and used Powerade instead. I may in fact have rubbed my eyes in disbelief and shouted 'Whaaaah!?' (but I can't be sure as it was a while ago now).

The lake is actually blue because of massive amounts of Algae in the water

On the way down Davy and I hung back from the group and ended up taking a 45 minute detour back to camp because this giant evil Bull was blocking our path and wouldn't get out of the fucking way no matter how many tiny pebbles I threw at it.

'The stare-down'  (Dave lost)

On the upside we did come across this fairly awesome tree as a result.

That night we decided to celebrate our triumph over nature Gap-Yah style, so we splooshed out on alcohol (3 quid was easily enough), got smashed in the room and 'hit the town'. But after 3 hours of walking around in deserted streets, looking for bars and being (literally) grabbed and scratched by prostitutes we decided to call it a night. The most interesting thing that happened was I fell face-first into a 3 foot pothole in the road whilst telling a drug-dealer to 'seriously fuck-off'.

The only way to have fun in Huaraz

The next day the weather was awesome so we hired some mountain bikes. The teenager we hired them off wished us luck and left us with one piece of advice;

'On way back to town, be careful of rabid dog: they attack you when you ride! You pick up rock, throw rock at dog, and dog leave now'.

(Mis)taking him for a fool or a prankster we paid for the bikes, tied them to the top of a local bus and took them to the bottom of a nearby mountain. We rode up it for a couple of hours taking occasional breaks to stroke llamas and poke tarantulas with sticks on the side of the road. Or vice versa in Ali's case.

In Huaraz....bike rides YOU

The ride down was great, but inevitably didn't last (given how little we paid for the bikes). Ali's back axle shattered into pieces and was unusable.
As we discussed our options (which were few) the first truck we'd seen all day drove past us and we waved it down.

The driver and his mate were equipped with a bunch of tools and helped fix up the bike so we could at least roll it to a nearby lodge (also the first lodge we'd come across all day) - so it looked like luck might be on our side after all.


It was not.

The lodge

Dave and I waited with Ali for ages at the lodge for a taxi, but it began getting dark so we rode off down the mountain together (Frodo and Samwise Gamgee anyone?) and watched the sun set over yonder hill.
Everything was super.

Then the shit hit the fan.

As we rode through a tiny village in the absolute pitch-dark we heard a most terrifying sound. Ten or more dogs barking from every direction, and getting closer. Very quickly we realised that the slack-jawed local who rented us the bikes had been telling the truth. The barking got louder and louder until eventually the pack caught up with us. The dogs (if you can call them that - they were more like shaggy mutants from fucking outer space) sprinted right alongside our bikes and dived at our feet and legs, foaming mouths open, teeth out and diseased tongues-a-lolling. Naturally we absolutely shat ourselves, but the faster we pedalled the more aggressive they became. We couldn't stop to 'pick up rock' (for fear of being mauled to death) so we rode down the mountainside without pedalling, sat with our legs stretched out in front, and whilst Dave hysterically screamed ´HELP ME ED HELP ME PLEASE!' I tried to decide whether I was crying of laughter or just genuine terror. I also tried to decide whether I was in fact having a nightmare, given that I was being chased by packs of aggressive rabid dogs in the pitch dark on a crappy bike...
I was reminded of the opening scene from Waltz with Bashir (which I recommend as a great film, on a pleasant side note).

One mangey mutt came so close that I decided it was worth a try, so I swung my foot out with all my might and booted it right in the face with the back of my heel.. It yelped and rolled over a couple of times and then gave chase again, but I did feel slightly like James Bond, or perhaps Alex Rider (even cooler).

For about 20 minutes we rode through towns and the same thing would happen in every one (although I never did get in another kick). The trauma finally ended when a van drove by and the driver offered us a lift back to Huaraz.

I have never been so terrified for my life, but at the same time I have never laughed so hard or for so long, so to this day I still have mixed emotions regarding the ordeal.

Next we ventured into the Amazon Basin...