There was a large array of fresh produce and the shopkeepers or casaritas are extremely friendly so buying the food is always a fun assignment. We then needed to find ourselves a communal vehicle known as a collectivo, headed for Cashapampa. Competition for passengers was fierce and after being bounced between three drivers we settled on a spot with the locals and their farmyard friends in the back of a red ute. When there were enough people, chickens and cargo in the back to ensure a profitable journey for the driver, we were off. Collectivos are the only link between the villages of the hills and riding them is a good way to see the life of a rural Peruvian in all its simplicity.
Fresh food goes into town and staple supplies go out.
A replacement sack was found and an international incident was narrowly avoided. The track is steep at first and after half an hour I certainly was feeling like a hapless beast of burden with a crushing pack, the midday sun beating down and a dusty trail heading up through the canyon. Conditions such as these can spoil your appreciation of a good walk. They frittered and frolicked by the shores of Laguna Junacocha while we glumly ate our lunch in silence. Mules next time we promised each other.