Because we were unable to do the Santa Cruz trek, we thought we´d trek to Laguna de Paron. The town of Pueblo Paron consists of a tiny church, maybe 4 buildings and a cement soccer field. By taxi it took us about 45minutes of switchbacks up the mountain to reach the pueblo.
Our two Lonely Planet Guide´s, one for trekking and the other deticated to Peru had differing estimates of the time the hike would take. One estimated 4 hours, the other 6. Before departing, Josh asked the taxi driver what time the final collectivo headed down the mountain for Caraz. He gave us an answer of 2:30, over the rest of the day we heard a variety of answers, but none later than 2:30. Thus we knew that if we didn´t want to spend Christmas Eve on the cement soccer field, we better be back to Paron by that time.
We hiked up, and up. Nature is gorgeous in this area of Peru. Lush green mountains, topped with sheer rock and snowy peaks. Eucalyptus trees grow throughout the valley offering a fresh, invigorating scent. White water rushed furiously along side of the trail. The air is pure, untainted by the few cars that travel all the way to the Laguna.
After a little over 3 hours of hiking up, we decided it was best to turn around in hopes of catching the collectivo back to Caraz. I feel bad, knowing that Josh wanted to see the Laguna even more than I, wishing I wasn´t so slow, holding him back. Anyhow, we conquered the downhill with speed and made it to Pueblo Paron at a little past noon. We lay in the grass aside the road hoping for the 1pm colective that a hiker had assured us would come. At 1:40 we started to consider walking down from that point. At 2 the collectivo in all it´s glory arrived.
The collectivo- an elongated Aerostar van with semi functioning slide-door and essential rack on top. We were the first 2 in the van, foolishly thinking we would be the only customers for the downhill. After every hairpin turn or before a group of riders would pile in, each with their 40lb sack of vegetables to load atop. Before we made it half-way down the mountain we had 23 people packed into this 14 passenger van. Soon enough we had 25 passengers inside, 5 on the roof. Let there be no question that this was not a conversion van or even a standard width van by U.S. standards. Nor do the people dress lightly for the ride. Each woman sports pants, atleast one large petticoat followed by a few select skirts, shirts, sweaters and of course a nice wide-brimmed decorative hat, not to forget they each sling a blanket holding something the size of a goat over their back.
A gal we met while hiking in Venezuela said that the best part of Peru is ¨the dress of the Andean women.¨ In my mind, she was just about right. The most amazing thing of Peru is the Andean Women. In every aspect they are lovely. Always with a smile they greet, always courteous. Their dress is bright, conservatively sweet and captivating. And their stregnth is hard to believe. Ladies older than my grandmothers lugging huge crates of chickens, gourds, children 3/4 thier own size. Windburnt cheeks and calloused hands do not keep these ladies from smiling, and I hope happiness.
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