Wandered around town a bit yesterday, and managed an evening walk down by the river. I considered it a stretch your legs out kind of stroll and I enjoyed the memories that it brought. I went to sleep with a vision of me waking at 7 and leisurely getting ready for what promised to be a very full day.
What I got was a 5am wake up thanks to the guest in the room below me playing a jungle flute. Then the fan bothered me. Then the rooster started. Then the parrots started making rooster sounds.
Alrighty then. I mean, do you know anyone that could go back to sleep?
Up, dressed, review, stretch and than head out for breakfast.
Pack backpack… trying to remember what to take: sunscreen, bug spray, camera in waterproof case, water, hat, sunglasses, toilet paper, more water and a change of shoes.
I am picked up promptly at 9am for a day trip hiking to Huacamallo waterfall. River crossings, mud, bugs, jungle vegetation, all under the blazing sun. Perfecto!
We are a diverse party… 12 in total, and not another English speaker among us. I am not worried so much as I am amused. Included in our group is a young woman (let’s call her bambi) in tight jeans, skimpy top and FLIP FLOPS! Yep, flip flops. But her hair and makeup were perfect, so I guess it all makes sense. (truth be told she was quite sweet)
I was a little more worried about the very kind looking older woman that looked like walking was a challenge.
Off in our little mini vans we go, turning onto a pitted dirt road shortly after leaving the city. Bumpy, rutted and consisting of rocks barely covered with red dirt, it seemed that the driver thought the smoothest ride was skirting the very edge of the road as we switchbacked our way up, up and away.
The 12km route takes us over several interesting (think flimsy) bridges and past a checkpoint, at which all cars are stopped and a “donation” requested on behalf of the villagers. It was apparently manned for security during the shining path terror campaign, and has since then been collecting money to compensate the local farmers for giving up their lucrative coco leaf fields and growing alternate crops.
End of the road (literally) is the town of San Antonio De Cumbaza, where we disembark and prepare for our hike. The bathroom is clean (toilet paper provided… very unusual) and it gets lots of use as we have before us a five to six hour return trip.
This is a hike I have done before, and so was slightly better prepared in that I brought along sandals for the river crossings. I distinctly remember what it is like to try and dry out shoes here (takes days and is usually accompanied by a particularly putrid smell).
After being cautioned by the guides to stay on the trail to avoid snake surprises, we head out of town and onto the trail. Lots of stairs, some rock pathways, plenty of mud, high grass fields, oodles of rocks to scrabble 
over, and of course the four river crossings. For me the real challenge was the heat, which had me queasy several times.
Our party included several strapping young men, and they, along with the guides played night in shining armour, helping with the river crossings. They also ensured that the older woman made the journey without taking a tumble. I felt like batting their hands away from time to time, but how could I insult them so?
Butterflies, birds, bees, mosquitoes, grasshoppers, 
spiders (!), fire ants, leafcutter ants, massive termite nests, frogs, flowers, vines, ferns, bromeliads, trees, trees, trees! The tall grass fields were so thick it was a challenge to find the trail and gave me the most pause, because where better for the snakes to hide?
I sunscreened, and bugsprayed, climbed, waded, balanced, and enjoyed it all while the sweat rolled down my face. Two litres of water barely made a dent.
After reaching our destination at the base of a magnificent waterfall, I waded in while some of the young’uns swam in the grotto and took turns jumping from the rocks for a good splash. The fact that there was shade and the water was cold was a relief that is hard to articulate.
Traditional lunches wrapped and cooked in largel eaves, fruit and juice were enjoyed by one and all. As with most journeys the return trip seemed to go by more quickly, but almost 6 hours in I was glad to see the end of the trail.
Bathroom. Gator aide. Shade. Rest. Ahhhhh….
Just in time too, because the afternoon storm clouds were filling the sky, and I watched in trepidation as the rains poured down and
obscured the mountains. After all, the road is DIRT, and what happens when you mix dirt and water?? Mud bogs. Not the best to drive over. Luckily we kept just ahead of the rain as we scurried down the road, past the checkpoint and headed down and around the switchback before hitting blacktop on the way to the city.
Shower, drink water, crash. Dinner and a hammock. Now I sit in bed, and am having trouble concentrating because my feet feel like they are on fire. They took a beating today, that’s for sure.
Lets all just hope that flute boy doesn’t do another 5 am wakeup call… I won’t be held responsible if he does.
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