Effy tells us that whilst yesterday was hard, today will be much easier. Sure we'll be walking 18km, but it's very flat and no high passes. I believe him. Bastard.
Clearly the Peruvian idea of 'flat' is anything that isn't completely vertical. Sure we don't have a 4,400m pass. We have a 4,200m one instead.
Previously Effy told us the three principles of Peruvian culture - work hard, don't steal, don't lie. Clearly he believes "two out of three ain't bad"! I should have known better - previous he'd promised massages and beer at the end of the day, and I believed him then as well.
A beautiful sunrise. Little did I know.
A very neat farmhouse with an even neater stack of drying adobe mud-bricks.
The 'flat' walk.
Our trusty James Brown and porter.
Kim demonstrating her "I'm a dead celebrity and get me out of here" technique. Unfortunately, it didn't work.
The pass we came over the previous day is on the horizon, on the snow edge on the left of the photo.
More of the flat trail.
Luckily, the sound of my heart pounding and the glazed look in my eyes doesn't come across in the photo.
Kim makes friends with a local boy. Either that, or she was asking him to carry her. He probably could have.
More than 2/3rds the way through the day's walk. I'm plotting how to kill them. Does it show?
Clearly suffering from cerebral anoxia, I stupidly agree to try a bit of soccer with local boys. I can't play normally, why would I think I could at 3,800m? I think it's the euphoria of actually descending.
Our camp after another long, exhausting, but rewarding day. It's a cloudless night and the sky is blazing with stars.
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