Under the blue, blue sky

Our initial S.Am plan had been to go into the south of Chile, from where we would cross into the Argentine Lake District and work our way up north through Bolivia and Peru, finishing in Lima for our long flight back to reality.  However, as we’ve got to know many times throughout this trip, our plans often don’t fit with those of He who knows better, and so once again we have found ourselves upended.  During our visit to Valparaiso we Couch surfed with two Chilean students, whom through we discovered that our grand plan was fraught with flaws; big, unchangeable weather related flaws.  Do our route as planned, and the continent was going to see out its rainy season with us under every cloud.  I love Scotland but detest its rainy disposition (and our journey through New Zealand has given me cause to suspect that I may suffer from SAD), so after some intense planning (and praying)we made the decision to head from Valparaiso to Peru to do our trip in reverse.  And so we find ourselves, following a thirty-one hour bus journey, unexpectedly in Peru, three and half months earlier than we had originally anticipated.  On yet another bus, I am drinking in miles of desert plains, awe-struck that sand can look so beautiful without the ocean to safeguard it from dullness.  The sky has never looked as blue; deep and rich; as it does against the pale yellow of this breathtaking wilderness.  We pass pocket sized shanty towns and the people that occupy them, in traditional dress under the baking sun, and I am reminded of those first few weeks in China, where we first came into contact with communities who, as of yet, remain untouched by technology and change and the desperation that hovers over the western world for wealth and success.  Despite the unforgiving heat, it’s refreshing to see life like this first hand though the culture shock is startling.  These isolated villages seem worlds apart from the cities of Chile; New Zealand a universe away.  That we come from such privilege hits me between the eyes with a thud and all worries about our money stretching to accommodate our extra months evaporate.

We arrive in Arequipa, our first Peruvian destination, and I immediately fall in love.  “The White City” is the aesthetic opposite of Valparaiso, but in no way less charming.  White stone buildings seem more reminiscent of Greece than the colourful Latin America I expected, but walking through the cobbled streets we are repeatedly faced with the startling sight of the snow-capped volcanoes that surround the city; a reminder that this is most certainly not the Mediterranean, but this mysterious continent that, after every hellishly long bus journey, continues to surprise us again and again.  Shops are bursting to their seams with colourful Peruvian textiles that leave me an excitable quivering mess who can barely contain the money in my pocket.  Within a few days I have purchased an alpaca hat and woven bag, and have mentally thrown away the entire contents of my backpack and replaced it with vibrant handicrafts. 

From here we travel to the Colca Canyon, second deepest in the world only to its neighbour Cotahuasi Canyon.  We pass through dusty villages that seem so different in their way of life even to Arequipa, and descend into the depths of this vast crevice in the earth.  How small one feels surrounded by its looming sides under a sky that, by day, is the most startling cobalt blue and, by night, is filled with more stars than my eyes can bear to look at.  I am overwhelmed by this vast expanse of heaven above me; each burst of light like a little glimpse of glory; remembering, in awe, the one who not only created them all, but knows each and every one by name.


(PS - I truly hope you are enjoying the blog as much as I am enjoying writing them!  I have added a new function at the bottom of the screen that allows you to sign up so you can receive new blogs direct to your email account.  We hope that you all continue to follow us on this journey and look forward to seeing you when we return.)