And so, the real journey begins!!!

Now, let me reiterate, we were embarking on a journey unheard of to most of the locals and non-existant to the gringos. This had all the signs of being an adventure among adventures... and so it was.

We woke up early to catch a several hour bus ride to Alca, knowing it was as far Northeast as scheduled buses from Cotahuasi would reach. We held the optimistic belief that a local bus from Alca would continue further Northeast towards our ultimate goal of Huarcaya, but were relying on good fortune at that point. Immediately after reaching the central square in Alca we wandered to the only hostel which had surprisingly nice rooms given the location, and a window facing the square so we could get a visual on when things were opening up since we arrived sometime during that dead mid-day hour seemingly impossible to avoid throughout our travels. Anyway, we were exhausted and took a nap, but my antsy self was up before Acacia and wandering through the central square to try to get information about catching a bus to Puica! There was a definite bus station/company in the square that had a listing for a bus to Puica in a couple of days, which differed from what we'd heard, so I kept asking around people in the square. Eventually I found a very friendly store owner with some delicious and cheap chicha (the fermented corn beverage of choice in Peru) that I bought a few glasses of and got to talking to him about getting to Cuzco.

What I learned:

1. He'd only ever heard of one other group of locals making the journey the direction we were going
2. None of the the towns we needed to get to existed on any of the maps he owned.
3. He wasn't certain about where the bus would reach from the Cuzco side of the mountain range.
4. A weekly combi was leaving tomorrow circa 5:30 am from the square to Puica and possibly onward, so we should be at his corner of the square by 5:00 am just in case.

Perfect! All I heard was, "the bus you want leaves tomorrow morning!". Now, time to find those hot-springs that are supposedly nearby. I went back, told the news to Acacia, we went and got food at the bar below us, and then sought ourselves some hot-springs. Asking the hostel owners, we determined it was about a 30 minute walk down the road the direction we had come to get to the hot-springs. Seemed worth it, and, so, we made the journey just after dark. The walk was actually quite fun down this gravel road with more than a few drunk gauchos "riding [horses] under the influence" to wherever a gaucho is heading at 8:00 pm on a Tuesday in the Cotahuasi valley, and a few good lookin dogs following along to keep us company.

Anyway, we arrived at this "hot-springs" which was basically an indoor hot tub full families and children that was fed by a natural spring from elsewhere. Not exactly what we had in mind. But, so goes it, I wasn't ready to admit defeat. Acacia immediately turned around and started hiking back, but apparently I'm a bit more stubborn or handle crowds a bit better than Acacia so I was determined to stay. I walked in, tested the lukewarm waters, realized I was going to be paying about 10 bucks to sit in a warm pool, friendless and not able to communicate with any of the Quechua speaking indiginous families there, and quickly high tailed it out of there to catch Acacia down the road. Well, at least it was an enjoyable walk!

We woke up dark and early the next morning and caught the bus to Puica! Naturally, we were the only foreigners on the bus, and probably the only foreigners the bus-driver had ever driven, which actually mad him quite concerned. A of all, he figured we were already lost when we got on the bus. B of all, he figured we were super confused since we actually stayed on the bus longer than any of the locals. Literally, the bus driver asked if this was our stop, specifically to us, at every stop. The bus ride was pretty fantastic, rising up out of the Cotahuasi valley during sunrise, passing through tiny indigenous towns in the middle of nowhere. We reached Puica, assuming it was the end, but to our surprise it was just the end for most of the folks who had boarded in Alca. Just about everyone disembarked, and then a bunch more people got on in Puica to continue of the valley. Alright! Motorize transport more Northeast than we thought we'd get! I jumped off the bus and peed in the middle of town where I think only a few villagers spotted me, and then we rode this bus until the bus driver finally told us we had to get off because it was the last stop!

Perfect! Town we don't know, middle of nowhere, nobody hardly even speaks Spanish, and when we find a shop with some snacks and a Spanish speaking store owner she tells us it's a one day hike with donkeys to get to Huarcaya... she thinks. "Go up the road and ask at another store. He'll know. He has donkeys". Sweet! Except not. Store's closed. Whelp! Onward and upwards at this point we suppose. So we start walking up the road, the direction we're pretty sure Huarcaya is in, and eventually pass a young boy and slightly older girl sitting on the side of the road. Just for reassurance, we ask them how far Huarcaya is. They agree that it's about a day's hike. But, there's a dump-truck coming in about 5 minutes that'll drive us most of the way there if we want to hitch a ride with them. Uhhh, chyea! That sounds far superior to uphill hiking at altitude with heavy packs. Sure enough, a truck comes by and offers to pick us up. I hoist my pack up to folks in the back of the dump-truck, then climb on up to help grab Acacia's pack and our day pack, but just then the truck starts driving away. Fortunately, everyone but the driver was on it, so they were screaming from the back of the truck for the driver to stop, which gave Acacia the opportunity to run with two packs a few hundred meters to try not to get left behind. We get both other packs and an Acacia into the back of the truck, and continue up this windy gravel road towards Huarcaya...