Onboard with several other sleepy couples, I finally delved into our packet of coca leaves. I'd been told various horror stories of altitude sickness, vomiting, oxygen being administered to some people at the top, and was determined not to be a victim of the thin air. To that end I began munching, throwing caution to the wind.
We watched the moon set and the sky lighten as our bus bumped its two-hour way up to the geyser field. It was -11C up there, the guide told us, and you have to get there this early otherwise it warms up and you can't see the steam as dramatically. At this point I would have traded steam for an extra couple of hours in bed. The coca leaves seemed to be taking effect because, try as I might, I couldn't get any sleep on the bus. I was also hallucinating significantly.
We were soon at Tatia, along with the many other tours that were doing exactly the same circuit as us (we'd followed the Lonely Planet's advice and gone for the company with the best safety record). Out we got into the eye-cracking cold and looked out at a landscape of steam plumes and bubbling water. Everywhere you stepped clouds were hissing out of the ground beneath your feet. It's all the volcanic action around here, of course, but actually seeing it doing stuff was a little scary. Boiling water popped up and froze instantly, leaving little condensation trails behind each searing drip.
After breakfast on a table outside - I managed to make a passable cup of tea without removing my ski gloves - we moved a short distance to the thermal pool where you could swim. Yes, a swim at 4,200m in -11C. Plenty of people thought this was a good idea, including Hannah, who stripped to her bikini and jumped in. That was the easy part. I did my best to aid her as she got out, but when she'd got her multiple layers back on she found her swim suit frozen to the rock where it was draped.
The ride down allowed time for her fingers and toes to regain motor function, and any effects of the coca leaves (real or imagined) to wear off. We saw plenty of local wildlife and birds, and also stopped in a small village called Machuka. This is something of a government project, a village that was abandoned when all the shepherds left but has been reactivated as a tourist site in the name of economic regeneration. They offered llama empanadas, locally produced textiles, and an old lady you could pay to have your photo taken with.
We returned to the hotel at midday, "to leave you time to do something in the afternoon," the tour brochure said, perhaps ironically given I'd been up for eight hours at that point. Silvi and Ignacio were kind enough to allow us a siesta (they had opted to stay in bed this morning...) before taking us off on our next adventure.
4.30am. Not pretty.
But it was worth it to see this!
Shadows amongst the steam.
Our guide, Claudia, who knew everything!
A steam hole.
Hannah gets a little close.
Boiling water.
My freezing ninja look.
I always am.
More steam, as the sky lightens.
The pool! Yes, mad.
Hannah does a few lengths.
Sun on steam.
Towelling off.
Finally, a source of heat from above as well as below.
Bye bye geysers.
This is a vicuna. They are like small llamas, have very soft wool, and are protected.
This is a puno, running away.
A giant coot sits on his nest.
A pair of Andes geese saunter on the ice.
This is a real volcano, smoking and everything!
Leaving the high-altitude wetlands...
...and arriving at the village of Machuka.
Their nicely colourful church.
And finally, a pet llama!
