Our trip to Tambo could best be described as an action packed twenty-four hours, because that is exactly what it was!
Padre Braulio, one of our English students at the clinic, invited us to visit Tambo, eighty-five kilometres from Ayacucho. It is not only the city where his mother lives but it is also his weekend parish.
He kindly picked us up in Ayacucho’s Plaza Central at 2.00 p.m. Saturday afternoon; he then followed up by collecting his sister and her friend, both students at a University in Ayacucho. Would you believe we had only just departed the outskirts of Ayacucho when he received a mobile message to return – to sign some documents for a young lady who is training to be a pastry chef!
Eventually we were back on the road again travelling beside the river that recently flooded after the latest heavy rain. Corn crops flattened and even a bridge partly destroyed. The white rope you can see is the new ‘hand rail’ for those crossing over the river to travel into Ayacucho!
Further down the road we came to a group of locals desperately endeavouring to restore the levee banks that had been washed away. Though one or two did manage to stop and wave to the photographer.
After passing through Wari and Quinua we started the serious climb into the mountains to reach Tambo a further fifty kilometres away. Once again you tend to put into practise such tried and true habits of looking straight ahead and murmuring the prayers you learnt in primary school. You have to realise that during this part of our journey we peaked at 4,200 meters above sea level.
When we stopped for a look at a substantial lake, Abra de Toccto, you really tend to notice the lack of oxygen, the scenery may have been magnificent, however, the temperature was very cool and I was puffing and panting!
You would not believe the next episode of our journey.
We came across this unfortunate man stuck in the middle of a reasonably strong river crossing, he could neither go forward nor back, his wheels kept spinning on the submerged and very slippery rocks.
Everyone who came along had a suggestion, however, none bothered to assist apart from one truck. They produced a length of rope that could best be described as strong string! And you know what happened to that the instant the truck took up the slack!
Have no fear, after quite a length of time and much debating, the Aussie gringo came to the rescue. Off with the shoes and socks, wade into the freezing water and hoist the front of the vehicle until the driver gained enough traction to drive out and nearly run down his poor unfortunate saviour as he drove out of the raging torrent! I must admit that they did return to say thank you for my super human efforts.
Soon after that great achievement we rounded a bend to gain a high altitude view of Tambo, very impressively nestled in the valley way below.
Firstly a hot coffee greeted us on arrival and later we shared a delicious, and very welcome evening meal with Padre Braulio, his mother, sister and friends.
Off to our accommodation for the night. You tend to think of all the nice things you should say when you are shown your room for the night, however, both Marion and I have to admit that this double bed was most comfortable and the warmest we have had so far on this trip to Peru.
The room may have been tiny and the en suite even smaller but at least the bed was fantastic. And it was just heaven to lie there listening to the rain literally pelting down on the roof. Also from our bed one could marvel at the wiring of the lighting system, the ceiling light was not a goer, however, the globe taped to the en suite partition worked perfectly! The shower was an electric system and worked well, although neither of us were prepared to squeeze into the confined area to take a dip!
Sunday morning was fine and cool as we headed back to Braulio’ mother’s house for breakfast – rice, corn on the cob, grilled chicken and lettuce, followed by bread and coffee.
We did make a quick visit to the Sunday morning market to get some fresh fruit for our hosts. Four mangoes and six tuna fruit set us back about two dollars! Though I decided that we did not need any fresh meat from the lady shown in the very first photograph of this blog!
We visited the local orphanage which was initially run by the Franciscan Sisters, however, it is now conducted by local people. It has been running for over twenty years and we met thirty-nine young children ranging from the age of three to one young girl of secondary school age. It is so hard to walk away unaffected from these places; the children literally flock to you for attention, they just want hugs. Nevertheless, I have to admit they do receive wonderful care and attention from some equally wonderful people and they all seem so happy.
Off to Mass at 10.30 a.m., another experience because it was conducted mainly in Quechuan, an extremely difficult language to learn and one that uses entire lines on pages for one word! So you can imagine the Mass lasted longer than the mandatory sixty minutes! The children from the orphanage even made an appearance.
Then the bus ride home, this really is an act of faith on one’s part as you choose which one to ride in. Before I knew it Marion was ensconced in the rear seat of this bus and I was faced looking at a sea of faces and absolutely not one vacant space in sight!
We chose to seek alternative travel arrangements at the local bus ‘depot’ and thankfully did manage to get the two front seats on a brand new Toyota bus, very comfortable and a very safe driver, even though he was only twenty-one.
We were especially impressed when we arrived at the river crossing; he took off his shoes and socks in order to examine the best way to cross. This was mainly due to the fact that another vehicle was stranded in the middle and as usual there was heaps of advice being offered from the dry banks!
From then on it was smooth sailing back into Ayacucho to end a memorable twenty-four hours, thanks to Padre Braulio and his family.
