If you’re in Peru and you want to truly enjoy nature, to have fun in it – the jungle without a doubt is where it’s at. We had some great family bonding moments here. In a jungle hot spring pool, Mia learned to swim. We made new friends, visited countless waterfalls, and swam some more.
After driving to the river city of Yurimaguas, we went as far as the jungle road could take us. I feel like we got a pretty good insight in this part of Peru.
But, with the rains soon approaching, and after 2 of the most pleasant months in recent memory in various jungle parts, we finally decided to head back to the mountains.
“One place we stopped at for lunch, seemed to be the coconut capital of Peru. Here, instead of cafes, there were little coconut shops.”
We’d be heading towards the Cordillera Blanca a beautiful mountain range with some of the tallest mountains on the entire South American continent. After studying the map, I decided to take the shortest route, even though the shortest route turned out to be the most challenging.
We drove through villages that seldom get foreign visitors. One place we stopped at for lunch, seemed to be the coconut capital of Peru. Here, instead of cafes, there were little coconut shops. In these, an owner would crack open the sweetest coconuts we’d tried, we’d drink them, and would watch the world go by.
And then, it was back to some densely forested areas again. The iOverlander app showed us that there were some hot springs, not far from the main road we were taking. We decided that near the hot springs would be the perfect place to spend the night.
“As I said, this was the shortest road to the high mountains, but not the easiest. For the first 50 km or so there were giant potholes. We were moving no faster than 10 km per hour. ”
The setting of the hot springs turned out to be one of the best. Just little pools amidst tree routes. The locals installed a pipe to direct the water flow and added some stairs to make the journey up the hill easier, but that was all. The rest was just nature, without any of the silliness that most communities have in mind when they think of making a place “better” for tourism.
From the hot springs, we finally started to make our ascent. As I said, this was the shortest road to the high mountains, but not the easiest. For the first 50 km or so there were giant potholes. We were moving no faster than 10 km per hour.
After hours and hours of driving the winding roads, first, very damaged roads, then slightly better, we ended up at altitude. All the insanely lush and dense greenery was gone. It felt unexpectedly sad to be surrounded by mostly tree-less mountains.
“I was missing this somewhat in the jungles, where people seemed so eager to embrace everything modern and globalized and not leave a trace of anything from their traditional way of life. ”
This was the first man we met the next day. It was early in the morning and very cold. The climate and the surroundings were inhospitable in comparison to where we had just come from. But, the man was such a character.
His weathered face and the way he dressed immediately stood out. As primarily a photographer of people, I was missing this somewhat in the jungles, where most seemed all too eager to embrace everything modern and globalized and not leave a trace of anything from their traditional way of life.
It seemed very remote here, so out of curiosity, I asked the man about the whole pandemic thing. How did it affect the residents of this area?
“We haven’t had much Covid here. It’s too cold and too inhospitable for anyone to come to these parts, even the virus." That was his reply.
This geographically inhospitable and cold area turned out to be one of the most friendly and warm in regards to people. Very quickly I noticed how the drab landscape, drained of much of the color we’d seen in the jungles, was colored by the traditional costumes of the women living here.
Almost every woman had these high hats, decorated with flowers. Their knitted tops were very bright, as were their skirts.
Since it was early, everyone was heading out to work in their fields. There was a flow of people and we came just in time to encounter them. Everyone I asked for a photo, agreed. The vibe was very positive and every other person seemed like they came off of the screen of a Nat Geo documentary about a faraway land.
Less than a couple of kilometers later, another visually captivating scene. A mother taking her children to the family’s chacra (an Andean term for an agricultural field).
People in Peru are generally very happy and proud when someone takes interest in photographing their children. And this woman recognized that the scene of her kids atop a horse, with that little puppy, was beautiful. She stopped for a moment, to make sure that I was able to photograph them.
After driving for a few kilometers, I started to think that this was one of the most photogenic roads I’d driven in Peru. Or maybe it just seemed this way, because I’d been missing that special vibe, the beautiful costumes, and the dramatic scenery that’s part of the Peruvian Andes.
““Mira la gringuita!” they’d say. In these parts, it translates roughly to “Look at the blonde girl!” ”
It seemed that every house we went past, presented a new scene full of colors and characters. Everyone was curious to talk to us. I made jokes, got some laughs and the women were smitten the moment they’d see Mia come out of the car.
“Mira la gringuita!” they’d say. In these parts, it translates roughly to “Look at the blonde girl!” They consider anyone blonde to be a gringo, not that they come from the USA, which is who the term was originally used for.
This wasn’t a common road frequented by outsiders and there aren’t any cities nearby, so in a sense, we were a live link to the outside world.
There’s one thing on the Andean roads that always draws the attention of my wife Tanya and I. It’s the way that the women of the Andes, starting from a very young age are always knitting or spinning wool. The colors are almost always very vivid and bright. They do it almost automatically, while walking, while herding animals. This woman was herding her pigs and knitting at the same time.
The towering mountains looked menacing, intimidating even. We were at over 4000 metres above sea level. There aren’t any large trees or plants at this altitude. As I mentioned, the surroundings were rather drab in color. It’s as if someone had desaturated all the greens. But, the scenery was still beautiful, in it’s own, unique, dramatic way.
Mia was so impressed with the skirts of the women and the girls that we started to ask around where we can buy one for her. A woman on one of the main streets of a village said that she had one for sale. Soon my girl was jumping around the mountains in her new outfit.
“I approached her to chat. She looked worried. When I greeted her, she said “Oh, I thought you were gonna kidnap me!” ”
We kept following the road that brought us from the jungle to the mountains. After we passed the first major town, the scenery started to change again. Different vegetation, different geological features. We were descending, but I didn’t yet exactly understand where.
Photographic opportunities kept presenting themselves. I saw this woman herding her cows. I stopped the car by the side of the road, got out rather quickly, and started making photos.
I came closer to her to chat. She looked worried. When I greeted her, she said “Oh, I thought you were gonna kidnap me!” I laughed and asked if I can make some more images. She smiled shyly and agreed. “I was sure you were going to kidnap me!” She repeated laughing. I have no idea why this thought entered her mind, but it might have to do with the “Shining Path” movement, which for years terrorized the population in many parts of Peru.
Though the scenery changed, interesting photo opportunities kept presenting themselves. I asked this man if I was going the right way, whether the road would take me up into the high mountains again. I was confused because it seemed like we kept descending and there were no high mountains in sight. “Yes, you’ll get into the mountains again… later.” Was his reply.
The settlements along the road became much more sparsely populated. The colorful, traditional costumes now gave way to the mass-produced clothes you’d see in any market in Peru. These children were left alone by a roadside house to entertain themselves for the day, while their parents were likely working in the fields.
Instead of going up, we kept descending even further. I finally realised that before reaching any mountain road again, we’d be going through a canyon.
I’m still not sure about the name of this canyon. It was dry, the cliffs by the side of the road looked like they could crumble at any time and, there were countless insects that bit you the moment you’d get out of the car. This wasn’t an ideal place for the night, so we kept driving.
The sun was starting to set and, as always, we wanted to find a spot for the night before dark. I’ve said this many times, and I’ll keep repeating it - It’s mind-blowing how diverse the geography of Peru is. Within one day of driving, we went from the lush jungle to high mountains with different kinds of vegetation, to now, a canyon and a desert-like climate.
The canyon road was very long. Only hours later did we get to the next decent-sized town. But, looking at the map, I realized that it was better to head back a few kilometers and to spend the night in a quiet part of the canyon.
In the morning I met the man in the photo above. He was herding his goats next us. There was a settlement behind a hill near to where we stopped, but the canyon seemed to have a bit more plants for the goats to munch on.
“We decided to change direction and drove up a small road that would take us out of the canyon into the high mountains much faster. ”
The direction we were heading in was the city of Huaraz. How we got there didn’t really matter to us. The prime objective was to have an interesting journey. The canyon road had almost no settlements along it. It seemed that if we followed the original plan, there would be at least one more day of driving through the canyon. After having done that for half a day already, I felt like we saw enough.
We decided to change direction and drove up a small road that would take us out of the canyon into the high mountains much faster.
A couple of hours later, we were once again in a different kind of world. Verdant valleys with farm fields were all around us, and snow peaks of the Cordillera Blanca were visible in the distance.
We continued meeting friendly and curious people in the villages along our way. These men were building a traditional house. I asked if I could watch how it’s done and make some photos. With smiles and laughter, they signaled for me to come over.
I found out that the builders weren’t hired. They were building a house for a neighbor, for free. That’s how things still work in some remote parts of Peru. People can live and prosper without money by producing their own food and helping friends and family with labor.
The sun was setting and we decided to look for a spot on the outskirts of the village to spend the night. As much as I love people, I’ve come to hate the noise that people seem to make everywhere I go. That’s why I usually avoid spending nights in villages.
I guess if I was traveling around cities, or if I were in a particular state of mind, I wouldn’t care about the noise as much. But, it’s a shock to the system when you’re in what seems like a natural paradise and you hear some distorted loudspeaker pumping out music that can only be said to be for an acquired taste.
This is the spot we chose. Just close enough to the entrance of the village. Just far enough not to hear anything more than the muted sounds of the village in the distance. There was even a sort of a gazebo that the villagers built. A perfect place to have dinner and breakfast.
The view from the spot wasn’t bad either. After having been surrounded by snow peaks for the year that we were “stuck” in the Sacred Valley, it was weird not to see any for the few months that we were in the lowlands. This was a welcome back kind of sight.
Soon after parking the car, I found out just how good our spot was. It appeared that everybody was coming back from the fields with their animals through here. Once again I found everybody to be very warm and open to having their photos taken. So, I ran around and behind the villagers trying to get the best angles.
I hadn’t seen this kind of village life much in the jungle, or it just hadn’t caught my eye as much because it wasn’t as photogenic. I’ve come to understand that there’s something amazing about almost any place, you just have to know what it is. Here, the amazing part was this ambience, the spectacular mountains, this lifestyle which seemed to belong to a different time.
As I watched the last of the families walk their animals back to their homes, I was filled with a great sense of happiness. I wasn’t sure if I’d be so excited to be in the mountains again, after having so much fun in the jungle, but… I was.
For the first time in a long time, we were going to sleep in front of such a spectacular view of a snowy mountain peak. The night was turning cold, so we went inside the camper. The sounds of the village - the cows, the dogs, the children were far off in the distance. There was something magical here and, we were excited about what awaited us along the road tomorrow.
