February 15th, 2015
The next day started all too early for my liking, the wear and tear of faster pace travel starting to catch up with me, my late night pizza at Candela restaurant not having helped either but I forced myself up and into the amazingly spacious shower, (meaning i didn’t have to duck and one part of me wasn’t touching a wall). Feeling refreshed I made it to the main square in time to buy some cookies and drinks for the day at a supermarket across the way before heading over to the tourist agency and settling in to wait for our 8 o’clock van to the Carajia sarcophagus’ of the Chachapoyan people discovered around 1985.
Somehow Elin and Olivia manage to sneak into the van without me noticing but at around 8 I’m called in and at least they’ve saved me a seat close by and then we’re off, winding out of Chachapoyas, past a ghostly empty subdivision of identical houses initially built for teachers but priced to high for such small properties and as of yet entirely empty. Certainly reminiscent of the theme song to Weeds.
It’s a lot of hours on the bus again but it passes fairly quickly between music and conversation. The road is anything but smooth and I feel like I’m back in Nepal essentially, bum bouncing up into the air quite regularly and I find myself thanking my steady stomach and resistance to motion sickness.
After about two hours in the bus we pull up inside a small hotel restaurant combination where we put in our lunch orders. 15 soles gets me soup chicken nuggets and fries with juice then we’re brought to a place to rent boots which almost even fit and before you know it we’re back on an even bumpier road heading to Quiocta cave.
Another 45 minutes or so and we’re climbing out of the crowded minibus, smaller than the one we took to Kuelap and crossing across some farmers fields before we head down some steps to the entrance of the cave and pay the entrance fee of about 8 soles.
It’s dark inside and I’ve forgotten to get new batteries for my headlamp but as we step into the first of many chambers I enjoy the relative darkness, picking my way over uneven stones and more than a few human bones, as our guide informs us that this first chamber was used as a burial site in Ancient times.
We stumble through the darkness of the first chamber observing tons of bones before leaving the burial site behind, crossing a very small river and heading deeper into the earth. Stalagmites and Stalactites abound all around us, illuminated in the sudden flashes of cameras and the sparse light of our three shared lanterns.
We continue deeper and deeper into the cave marvelling at the otherworldly rock formations and the river which is growing into something more than a stream by the time we turn around and head back. The cave stretches on but we’re out of time. On the way back on my suggestion we close off all the lights and appreciate true darkness for a moment before continuing out towards the light of day again. Sorry for the lack of quality photos from this experience but it’s difficult to capture things in darkness so entire.
When we emerge from underground the rain has returned in full force and it’s a quick and windy jaunt across the fields and back up to the van which transports us quickly to lunch.
I manage to not spill soup all over myself this time around and as we eat we discuss future travel plans along with an Israeli guy who was staying at my hostel. I talk Cajamarca, my next destination famous for it’s cheese (yes please) and carnival celebrations which I’m hoping to catch the end of. Both Elin and Olivia seem interested and end up following me there in a few days.
From lunch we head out to the main attraction, the Carajia sarcophaguses… about an hour away, and an hour on the roughest roads yet. Our teeth clash together and by the time we spill out of the mini bus we’re all just about ready to lie down and sleep, but no such luck and we go to buy our tickets to the site around 10 soles if I remember correctly. (Half price for students and me) and then head back through the small town and out along a path. We’re offered to rent rubber boots again,but our guide says he’s not so we don’t bother. Probably a mistake considering it’s rainy season and the path is somewhere between well trodden and obliterated. Cattle farmers and tourists rendering a once well made trail into a bog of mud and cow dung which makes most people fall several times or at least get stuck in the mud.
With great skill and incredible grace (ha!) i manage not to lose some of my last clean clothes to the mess below and after a good 45 minute or hour long descent we reach the cliffs and look up and baffling, unique, and truly awe inspiring set of ancient sarcophaguses three quarters of the way up the cliff.
Almost 600 years old these 2 meter clay giants hold the remains of bodies, buried as high as possible, sheltered by the overhanging rock, these stone giants gaze out at the impressive panorama, a narrow ribbon waterfall tumbling down in the background. Not a bad view for eternity.
As we walk we pass small collections of bones outside a small cave once used as a mausoleum for less important people who have since been robbed we look up the cliff at a different angle and see some smaller sarcophaguses and the other ones that have crumbled or fallen for the cliff. I find myself wondering how long the remaining ones will stand and think of the shakespearean sonnet. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, and delves the parallels in beauty’s brow, feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth and nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.”
Then I naturally peel off my shirt, lie down and get some more paint me jack shots, to the delight of Elin and Olivia, and the mix of horror and amusement of our Peruvian companions. More humour I’m fairly sure.
Then it’s time for the trek back up the hill. Beautiful views but exhausting and before long my leg is throbbing due to the muddy terrain. (again if you’re in shape it’s not hard) I’m offered horses by the locals but my policy on not making a horse carry me until I’m a reasonable weight holds and I manage, climbing up into the bus breathing hard and then we’re off for the long drive back to Chachapoyas.
Once there we go for a walk to the bus station but before we can get there we meet two female police officers who I find asking Elin and Olivia a series of strange questions revolving around passports. After a little repetition we figure out they want pictures of them advising us, and inspecting our passports for some sort of tourism campaign. I always knew we were models!
Then we book our bus to Cajamarca for the next night and say goodbye for the evening. I’m back at Candela where I enjoy an amazing white chicken lasagna and once again revel in the wonderful atmosphere before heading back to Chachapoyas backpackers and falling into bed, forcing myself to set an alarm for early the next day for the only remaining solo adventure in Peru. Gocta Falls, which you’ll be able to read about soon.
