“If you’ve only ever learned how to breathe and take one step forward, you have all the skills needed to handle life on Earth.” – Old Sean
Simmering Low
I don’t think people who live in one place understand how many different type of burnout drastically challenge motion.
Classic burnout, the one workaholics are intimately familiar with, involves a sudden, grinding flight of energy vanishing and a sudden stoppage of productivity. And while this is absolutely a feature of travel, the more common form of long-term travel burnout comes from a totally different angle.
Deep, abiding comfort.
At some point, every traveler will stumble into a part of the world that is, for lack of a better term, easy.
The roads are safer, the nights are free and easy to walk through. The locals and other travelers offer a support system and easy routine. The various streets, which twisted, befuddled and towered in the beginning, start to feel like a well-worn trail. A few favored restaurants begin to stand out and there’s nothing more wonderful in the world than knowing where a decent cup of coffee resides.
Leaving Cusco
I got caught in the comfort trap in Cusco. With the exception of Laguna Ausangate, Cordillera Arcoiris de Pallcoyo, Palcoyo Rainbow Mountain and the Canon de Ananiso, I had done everything on my list (and a bit more) around Cusco. This put me in a unique state of chill, meeting up with a few friends (hey Ferni) I had made in the area and hopping from short-term hotel to short-term hostel as I rounded up my wayward energy.
After spending days visiting small cafes and writing, I finally mustered and mastered my motivation. It had been my original desire to cross the boarder into Bolivia to see the great salt flats and train graveyards in the country’s south. I also wished to walk the streets of La Paz to visit the Witch Museum and see how South America’s landlocked countries lived.
However, a closed land boarder negated that plan and expenses to fly in (only to fly out a week later) were too steep. My next targets were locked around Argentina and Chile, but immense ticket prices and rather stringent COVID restrictions redirected me once more.
For the short term, I was heading to Brazil or Panama.
I sorted out my research and living situation for the next month, eventually settling for a visit of Brazil towards the relatively affordable German town of Blumenau. I was spurred by rather enthusiastic advice from some friends and finally repacked my bag for the long trudge back to Lima.
The Long Way Back
Said trudge came with yet another pit-stop on the route back . Without making a considerable detour, I wove my way towards Arequipa on an overnight bus.
Arequipa was actually my first choice for a long-term stay in South America. I had planned to essentially live there for two months while learning Spanish, but political unrest, shaky COVID news and fluctuating ticket prices ended up redirecting me to Cuenca, Ecuador for that time.
Traveling during COVID is a wild ride. I abandon and change plans on an almost weekly basis with barely a whimper or grudging consideration. My travel research file when considering new places to visit has grown bulky and dusty, crammed with places I’ll only be likely to visit in the far-flung future.
Impressions of Arequipa
Regardless, Arequipa was a very welcome sight. The city is famously constructed from white volcanic stone with intricate carvings and thin spires. The volcanic stone isn’t the sheer, wavy white of marble, but a unique eggshell-speckled color worked into huge portions of the central area.
Upon arrival, I found a hostel with extremely spotty internet and a tiny room with a sputtering shower flashing between freezing and broiling water. (In the end, I just borrowed a bucket, filled it with the alternating trickle and washed up with a sponge in the lukewarm mixture.) From the start, I realized I would probably spending limited time lounging in my hotel.
I wandered out, first checking out Mercado San Camilo, where I cobbled together a breakfast of fruit and cheese wheels. It’s a pretty typical shopping area for South America and the novelty didn’t stick, so I wandered north towards Centro, enjoying the gradual increase of white-stone architecture.
I ducked into an ice cream shop and accidentally discovered the Cloisters of the Company, which boasts wide plazas ringed by shops and impressively carved pillars with symbols of food and vines. It was probably my favorite place visiting the city thus far.
On next to the nearby Plaza de Armas, where the Basilica Cathedral of Arequipa rises, sharp, elegant and ringed with classic white pillars. The structure is among the most beautiful I’ve seen in the city, day or night, artfully framing itself with arches made from the same white stone as it. I ended up getting coffee here and lounging in the plaza until my caffeine effectively fortified my non-existent gumption.
Old Lava Walker
I spent the next pair of hours simply wandering around the city, picking out nice little nooks to people-watch. Street beggars were out in numbers around here, but the oddest thing were the dancers. Most places I’ve gone to in Peru have a lot of singers, panpipes and small-time sales people, but in Arequipa, there were young children dancing an odd sort of shuffle with taps and distant expressions on their faces.
I continued wandering until passing through Santa Catalina Monastery, a large active religious community with nuns, open to the public. The interior is uncommonly expressive. Aside from a large, squarish dome of the city’s famed volcanic white, there are also large squares painted extremely bright, tasteful primary colors. Walls and arches in one zone are a perfectly darky red, creating deeper shadows around potted desert plans and tiny flowers. Other sections are a bright, welcoming blue with white trim. And yet other zones are white walled with orange accents in a hallway of paintings or a completely unexpected yellow.
As pretty as the monastery was, my time inside was somewhat limited, since they were close to closing the doors when I arrived. Sated with my short peak inside, I branched further north, to wander through the Barrio de San Lazaro, which is a beautiful neighborhood. It’s full of thin trees, perfectly white buildings heralding back to the city’s inception and tons of small shops and restaurants. I ended my evening mildly pleasant Selva Alegre Park walking around the murky water features.
Onward to Flights
Unfortunately, time was suprisingly condensed for my time in Arequipa. I ended up with more work the following day than expected, and the only place I was able to visit was a tiny dessert shop with a life-sized llama stuffed plushie, some Oreo, ultra-fine ice cream and llama-shaped cookies.
I was more than a little sorry when it was time to load up for my bus the following afternoon. There were a few Miradors in the city I had wanted to see and the famous Ruta del Sillar was just awaiting me to the west. Ruta del Sillar and Canteras de Sillar Anashuayco is a sort of city-quarry. The city of Arequipa is constructed of white volcanic stone specifically called Ashlar, which is light, porous and easily caved. The Ruta del Sillar is a walk through the quarry canyon, complete with Hispanic and indigenous carvings across the blazingly white and bright area.
Unfortunately, it’s something I’ll need to be sure to see on my next visit, because my bus quickly scooted away from my brief time in Arequipa. The rest of my day was spent gazing out over dusty rock hills where discarded tires had pocketed the bottom. Near the end of the day, we reached the coast, where a wrathful red sun was perching on a murky, dark sea-line.
I snoozed the night fitfully away, until our bus arrived in the wee hours of the morning. We loaded off the bus and hung around waiting for our luggage.
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written November 26th 2021
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. Two years ago, I bought two more Osprey Backpacks for my younger siblings on their first tour outside the country. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
