22.05.08 What a lot of llamas (and alpacas)

There are more auspicious ways to start a long journey than your bus driver arriving very late and drunk, and then being decanted on to another vehicle with Titannic emblazoned on the side. After seven uncomfortable, stinky hours (luxuriously, some of it on tarmac), Susi and I fell out of the bus at 4,400m in the arid air of a tiny community of alpaca herders.

We were greeted by a friendly indigenous lady, who ushered us past a massive satellite dish and inside. In a basic room sat four redundant computers (there’s no electricity) and through this our dorm room. I was too tired to speak as our guide took us for a walk in the mountains, each step crunching on the desiccated soil. At one point I took an alfresco wee and the earth rejected this unexpected bounty like oil hitting water.

Very little can survive up here, hundreds of metres over the tree line. The survival of the locals is dependant upon their alpacas. All food is traded is for their meat and their dried faeces is the only fuel. It is stockpiled in a special room in advance of the rainy season. The alpacas can only survive by living off the lichen on the rocks.

After we had been fed at 6.30, the sun set and we were alone. The walk to the loo in the cold air under a clear sky was rather too invigorating. However, with the moon not yet risen and the only light from candles, the stars were spectacular.