Day 969
Huaraz
I had been expecting Tom back from them there hills on Saturday, so Friday night I ate yet another jacket potato for tea, it’s not something we can cook when wildcamping so I was very happy to overdose on them. I was just debating about heading for bed when I heard my name called, Tom was outside. He'd done a 2-day hike in the morning then done a day's ride in the afternoon to get back to me. To say he looked exhausted was a major understatement. With all the potatoes gone I popped out to the local roast chicken restaurant and bought almost enough food to fill him up. Then bed, perchance to dream!
We took another two days to relax, watched a local festival, we weren’t quite certain what it was about, but there was noise, dancing, bands, beer, people dressed up, carnival floats and massive crosses carried along. Everyone seemed very jolly. The following morning, we set off hoping to make it to Huaraz, 42 miles along the road. Unfortunately, after a couple of hours it was clear I was not fully recovered so we stopped early in the small town of Carhauz. We treated ourselves to dinner out and I finally had my first Pisco Sour. Maggie, a lovely lady, who with her dog Maisy, we had met on our first night’s wildcamp of the trip, had recently messaged me advising that I really should try one, how right she was. It definitely did the trick and the following morning I felt much better. As soon as we set-off we passed more marching bands and realised this festival wasn’t over yet.
The miles to Huaraz flew by, we only had a few miles to go when something strange happened. A car passed me and I felt a spray of water hit me. It seemed a bit powerful for windscreen wiper spray but whatever, I soon dismissed it from my mind. The I got hit again on my leg, I paused to look and a very pleasant lady walked up to Tom, and threw a bucket of water over his head! What was going on? Were gringos not liked around here? We soon realised it was all part of the festival. Today was War Day, and as the final few miles past we soon got used to seeing a group ahead of us, buckets, hosepipes, water guns at the ready, and with cries of ‘AGUA AGUA AGUA’ we were thoroughly soaked! It was all done with such good humour we were happy to take part.
Then we noticed the vehicles coming towards us were covered in paint, oh no. We stopped and asked at a small shop what was happening. She explained about War Day and that it would be total mayhem in Huaraz. Fortunately, her partner didn’t turn his hose pipe on us and off we went. Sure enough, as we entered the town we began to see quite a few people covered head to toe in paint carrying thankfully empty buckets. It couldn’t last, first Tom was hit from above, we pedalled as fast as we could. The whole place looked a lot like a zombie apocalypse movie. Suddenly a large group of paint spattered people spotted us. They sprinted across the road and we were soon surrounded, one guy gently reached up and touched my face, daubing me, then paint arrived from every which way. If I had been in a city at home and a large group of screaming youths had run at me as these ones did I would have been petrified, here we knew there was nothing to worry about, well apart from if our hostel would let us in. We needn’t have worried, most of the staff and residents were out in front of the building trying in vain to clean off the paint from themselves! It was pretty clear that all out total paint war had taken place and cars, buildings, the road and anyone foolish enough to be out on the street was covered. Nothing for it, we cleaned up and headed out for another Pisco Sour, well Maggie knows best!
Today we headed off to the regional museum of Ancash a short stroll from our hostel. The streets were quiet, if somewhat paint spattered and poor shop workers were desperately trying to clean up. It was one of the first regional museums in Peru, opened in 1935. Only small just 4 rooms, with ceramics, textiles, monoliths, lintels and many more stone pieces belonging to the Recuay culture. Quite a few of these, 120 in total, were set out in a garden behind the museum. In all it covered a period from 10,500BC to 700BC. Inside, set beside the beautiful pottery was a few skulls, some I thought had met a brutal end, but then I read that they were trepanned skulls. Ancient healers removed parts of the skull to try and help the sufferer recover from head injuries, often caused in battle. Sometimes they drilled into the skull, sometimes they scraped away, which was apparently more successful. To improve their skills they practiced on the dead and dying, lovely! We then spotted a mummified corpse in its burial wicker basket, that was enough gore for today, too early for another Pisco Sour, so we headed off for another Peruvian speciality, coffee and cake.
