Today I was hiking to Isinlivi and I had a map and a description and company. Two German girls who where heading in the same direction for the first two hours.
Somehow the map and the description forgot to mention 'the canyon'. We had to hike down some very steep path to what we thought was the bottom of the canyon only to find out there was a mini canyon hidden within the large one and we had to go further down to the river. We hiked through beautiful villages, past schools and farms, through bushes and bogs and arrived finally at the hanging bridge where we had to part ways.
The girls had to go further down the valley, me unfortunately back up to top of the canyon to the village. So I followed a well trodden path upwards and upwards and upwards. By the time I realised I was wrong I was too far up to go down again and hoped this path will also lead to the village. And it went up and up - all at about 3000 m above sea level. I was wishing for my old mule from the day before...
I made it to the top and then had to go further up over another pass only to discover that in order to get to the village I had to go all the way down into yet another canyon. I seriously wanted to lie on the ground and cry.
Coming out of the second canyon I started to feel like my mule from the day before - catching my breath every 10 steps before continuing on.
But I made it and arrive at the gorgeous hostel Llulu Llama and had to lie flat on one of their lovely couches in the living room before I could do anything. Then the Swedish volunteer cooked an amazing large bowl of pasta with local mushrooms, crackling fire place, unbelievable views of the Andes - life was good again...
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