“It wasn’t easy psychologically to leave. Especially not for my wife Tanya and my daughter Mia. ”
Over a year in the Sacred Valley… My camper and my new car finally ready... We finally left the area we called home for a longer period than anywhere else through the past 15 years. The plan? Head up to the North coast of Peru, where the weather is warm, the beaches are endless stretches of sand and, where our friends live.
It wasn’t easy psychologically to leave. Especially not for my wife Tanya and my daughter Mia. Perhaps, they’re not as nomadic as I am. Perhaps they just got really attached to the area, to the people we met there. I have to admit that it wasn’t easy for me either. Right away we planned an approximate return date, to make the departure easier and to make our fair wells “see you later”.
I’m very thankful that Mia does seem to have more of a nomad attitude than most children. She’s traveled since she was 3-months-old. Even though she made an incredible friendship with another little girl in the valley, she was able to let go and to move on without drama. I guess it helps when you see new places almost every day. When there’s a certain type of stimulation and excitement.
There’s no shortage of spectacular places all over the mountains of Peru. Our destination was a “Stone forest” only a few hundred kilometers away from where we lived. We didn’t make it there the first night, but… we made it to another amazing place. A viewpoint of the canyon of Apurímac. That’s where we spent the first night.
There’s obviously been a shortage of human contact and a shortage of people photography. I’m very appreciative of having my own little model everywhere we go in my daughter. We bought her those kinds of shoes that light up. Now she runs around in the dark, amused by the light.
The moon was nearly full, but clouds of fog would come and cover it every few minutes. In a remote and silent place like this viewpoint, it was easy to appreciate the little nuances – light, the forms of the mountains and the trees and those clouds, coming and going.
The next morning we woke up in the fog. While I generally love the fog and how it kinda makes everything feel and look more mysterious, we were hoping to see some beautiful views down the canyon.
Eventually, the sun came up high enough and its rays got sufficiently hot to make the clouds dissipate. We got a good view of the grandiose canyon of Apurímac.
That’s the nearest town, a few kilometers down from the viewpoint. It was great to be in total isolation for the night for the first time in a long while. Those quiet nights of nothing but sounds of nature are something I always crave.
Off to the “Stone forest”. As always there are mountain passes. As always there are alpacas, beautiful views and a good amount of greenery.
“The place ended up being a little paradise. Rather than continue to check out the “Stone forest” we made a stop.”
But, on the way to the “Stone forest,” we came across an amazing little valley, next to a small settlement. We met a woman by the road. She lived in the settlement. The land belonged to her. She said it would be fine for us to set up camp where we wanted.
We set it up not far from a mountain river. The place ended up being a little paradise. Rather than continue to check out the “Stone forest” we made a stop.
One of the more important things I’ve learned over the years – When you come across a great spot like this one, you gotta make the most of it. You never know where or when you’ll get to the next amazing place. We ended staying for a few days before we even moved towards the car.
“One “downside” was that there was no internet signal in this spot. Of course, that depends on how you look at things. No internet also meant more time to focus on living. ”
One “downside” was that there was no internet signal in this spot. Of course, that depends on how you look at things. No internet also meant more time to focus on living. I spent some quality time with Mia and Tanya. I appreciated the little things that get lost amidst all the noise that comes with social media, or just the ability to get too many updates from places that you’ll never visit and that won’t ever matter to you.
We had quite a few walks and little adventures with Mia. Precious time that cannot be replaced by anything. Something that I’ll cherish forever and I hope she will reflect on with happiness too when she’s a grown-up.
This was the view that greeted us every day. At sunset, the tip of this mountain, with its various rock formations would light up a bright golden color.
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It’s important to note that the woman we met along the road turned out to be one of the sweetest and most wonderful people I’ve met in Peru. Her name is Maxi. She lived in Lima. I didn’t ask, but I gathered that she’s divorced. Her children are grown up and living well, so she has no one to take care of. She lost her job during the pandemic. With nothing to do in the big city and the constant social distancing and mask-wearing getting to her, Maxi decided to return to her ancestral land.
“She’d come back to the land for a couple of months each year even before. She’d visit her parents, who lived into their 90s, in good health until their last days.”
She’d come back to the land for a couple of months each year even before. She’d visit her parents, who lived into their 90s, in good health until their last days. Now her parents were gone. Her two older brothers were the only ones still living on the land, from a family of 7 siblings.
Maxi always felt a strong bond to the land where her ancestors lived for 4 generations before, and where she lived until she left as a late teen. The whole Covid thing made her decide to come back to the fresh air, the clean, natural food, to try to revive the place.
Luisa (left) is Maxi’s sister-in-law. She lives in the next village, but comes to help with some of the tasks, like milking the cows. The way we actually started our interaction with Maxi was when I asked if she had milk or cheese for sale. "I’ll have it tomorrow", she said. And so we returned, for the freshest possible milk that you can get. Still warm and steaming.
We got some cheese as well. Maxi joked, saying “Here’s the special, exclusive cheese. Made right here in the village Tincoc.”
We got some potatoes from Maxi too. Mia wanted to make a bonfire, so we decided to combine baking potatoes with a nice little bonfire at night.
“And so would pass the days and the nights. No traffic noise. No Covid news. No disturbances of our little paradise. ”
When you worked for your food (we gathered firewood and prepared the potatoes) and you’re in nature with your loved ones, the meals always seem to taste better.
I’m actually not much of a lover of bonfires if I have to be the one gathering the wood for it. But to give another special experience to my daughter was enough motivation to do it.
And so would pass the days and the nights. No traffic noise. No Covid news. No disturbances of our little paradise.
I’ve found it incredible how there are so many reactions around the world to this situation we’re in. Essentially it’s like different worlds existing parallel to each other. During moments like these, you feel truly fortunate to be able to get away from the madness. To remember what it means to be human and what’s truly important to you.
I’ll continue the story about our stay in this place in the next blog post. Stay tuned.
