30 May - 1 June 2006 ...The Choro Trek

Lynne says...


The start of the Choro Trek - you walk down into the green valley on the right

The Choro Trek in the Cordillera Real mountain range is one of Bolivia´s premier hikes and we were expecting great things of it - particularly as our departure had been delayed twice due to various previously mentioned health reasons.

Wrapped up in all our warm clothing we began the slow and painful ascent to the trek´s highest point at a whopping 4860 metres. The altitude made it difficult to do anything but walk at a painfully slow pace, stopping every few minutes to catch our breath. Matt was fine but I was a heaving wreck and sounded like an old woman who had spent her life smoking ninety ciggies a day.

Below us stretched an ancient pathway, hundreds of years old and virtually intact. The Incas really knew how to build a road that would last, unlike the motorway building cousins in Britain.


Over five hundred years ago, the Incas succeeded where British road builders have failed - they built something that has never needed digging up!!!

As we continued to descend we passed a ruined Inca resting house and walked through tiny hamlets where campesinos scratch a living from the land. Curious locals in traditional dress looked on at a distance and a few brave souls ventured a wave as we greeted them. We were surrounded by alpine forests and followed the path of a fast flowing river.

As our trek continued the fantastically constructed yet hideous-to-walk-down Inca road continued to give my knees and ankles a real challenge. I was finally glad we had decided to hire what I had thought would be useless and ridiculous looking trekking poles (or walking sticks as I preferred to call them).

Seven hours later and we arrived in a beautiful valley that would be our home for the night. Nestled alongside a river stood a few basic dwellings and a gracious old lady bent double with age allowed us to camp in her garden for a small fee of 70p each. We had walked 17 kms and descended 1660 metres so it was time to rest our weary feet.


At home or in the field - who´s in the kitchen?

The second day was much harder and longer than I had anticipated. The vegetation around us had begun to change dramatically and we were now surrounded by cloud forest. Thick set trees trees hugged the mountainside and light cloud formed around the tops of the hills. The temperature had also increased significantly and it was now much more humid. Off came the thermal layers and on went the sun hat and suntan lotion.

The stones and boulders of the Inca pathway were worn smooth by centuries of travellers. Waterfalls cascaded down from above making it slippery and dangerous at times. Again I was glad of these now not so ridiculous walking sticks as they saved me from a twisted ankle several times.

After stopping for lunch in another lovely valley we crossed a suspension bridge and began a series of gruelling climbs along the side of several steep hills covered in thick vegetation. At times we were unprotected from the suns rays and the humidity had also increased significantly. We were drinking water purified by iodine tablets and the taste was grim yet we needed to drink constantly to compensate for the amount of sweat pouring out of us.

By now I was really finding it tough going and was amazed at how well Matt was coping considering he was carrying most of our gear in a back pack that made him look like a power ranger.

It was almost dark by the time we reached Casa Sandillani at 2000 m and although we were physically exhausted and desperate to rest, we soon forgot our personal troubles when we met one of the most fascinating characters we have come across on our trip so far. As we collapsed at the doorway of a wooden hut Tamiji Hanamura came out to greet us, clutching his special visitors book close to his chest.

I had heard about this eccentric old Japanese man who had settled here in the 1950s and although I imagined he would be an interesting person, nothing had prepared me for this encounter. It was an absolute delight to meet such a completely unique individual. Bent double with age and hard labour his smile of welcome lit up his tiny eyes buried deep within the wrinkles that covered his face.


Lynne chats with the legendary Tumiji Hanamura

His precious visitors book was full of hand drawn maps of all the countries in the world and we pored over it with complete amazement. Every visitor he had ever received has recorded their name here with an arrow pointing to where they come from. There were surprisingly few people from Britain so we were proud to record Coventry in this little piece of history.

I asked Tamiji when he had left Japan and although his heavily accented Spanish was extremely difficult to understand, he excitedly explained to us his route over the sea from Japan to Bolivia via Cape Town and Rio, pointing out the cities in his book. He had left in 1955 and we could only guess that he must now be well over eighty years old. Unfortunately due to language barriers we never found out exactly what had possessed this fascinating man to leave Japan and spend his life alone in a cloud forest in deepest Bolivia.


Possibly the best campsite in the world...

It was dark by the time we set up camp in Tamiji´s back garden so we were unaware of the spectacle that awaited us the following morning. As dawn broke we were treated to fabulous views in probably one of the most amazing places we will ever camp in. Below us stretched a wide valley surrounded on all sides by cloud forest. Wispy clouds floated in the air and far below a river flowed. Behind us, Tamiji had created a Japanese garden with lovingly tended plants and colourful flowers. We were the only people in a Japanese oasis in the middle of a Bolivian cloud forest and I knew just how privileged we were.

Our final day was spent walking downhill along a well marked trail until we reached the tiny village of Chairo. Chilled beer had never tasted so good!

Lynne enjoys her end of trek beer (is it just me or does she look like Andi McDowell in this picture?)