There are no photos to accompany this post. There just wasn’t enough time.

After our hike across Colca Canyon, Kevin and Janina and I arrived back in Chivay (Peru) just in time to pick up our bags at the hostel where we spent the previous night and discover that the 5 PM bus (the bus we planned to take that night to get back to Arequipa – the last bus of the evening) was full.

Staying another night in Chivay wouldn’t have been all that bad. In fact, I kind of wanted to hang around for a little while longer. But Kevin and Janina are on a relatively tight schedule and they didn’t want to waste an entire day out of their travels here in South America just to take a lousy bus from Colca Canyon back to Arequipa. They wanted to get back that night and then jump on another bus bound for Cusco the following morning. Not making the 5 PM bus out of Chivay would put them behind schedule by an entire 24 hours and that wasn’t something they wanted to do if they could avoid it.

Luckily, Kevin and Janina both speak excellent Spanish, so after some serious investigative work, we learned that it might be possible for us to board the bus despite all of the seats being full. The only problem was, we’d have to stand for the first two hours of the ride and half-way through the trip the bus would have to drop us off in the middle of nowhere because we couldn’t be found standing on-board the bus when they drove through the police checkpoint at the half-way point between Chivay and Arequipa.

It sounded like a terrible option, but we decided it to treat the experience like a real Peruvian adventure. Besides, it was either we stand for two hours or we spend another night in Chivay and take another bus out of town the following day. We opted for the two-hour standing bus ride and the possibility of being kicked off the bus in the middle of the Peruvian desert.

But then, just as we were about to board the bus at the Chivay bus station, the attendants informed us that the police were checking the buses and that we’d be unable to board the bus in the station.

I couldn’t understand what was happening to be honest, as all of this was being discussed in Spanish. I was getting most of my information from Kevin, who was listening in on multiple conversations and then translating to me whenever he had a chance.

What happened was this: Just as we were about to illegally board the bus, the Peruvian police pulled into the station. The bus company obviously didn’t want to get caught carrying an excess of passengers on the long and winding road from Chivay to Arequipa, so they told all the waiting passengers (Kevin, Janina, myself and a handful of others, to get out of the bus station, run down the road, and wait there for the bus to come and pick us up.

I barely understood what was going on, but the next thing I knew we were all running down the road leading out of Chivay. Our packs still on our backs, Kevin and Janina and I, along with four or five locals ran up the road and stood there waiting – hoping and praying that they’d let us on the bus.

But then, as we were all standing there on the side of the road, we saw a police car leave the Chivay bus station and start down the road in the direction where we were all waiting.

“Hurry! Hide behind this wall”, someone said. And before I knew it, we were all crouched down behind a small stone wall, like prisoners escaping from jail. Then, as slow as slow can be, the Peruvian police drove past in their car.

“There is no way they can’t see us,” I thought to myself. We were behind a small stone wall, but if the police just looked in their rear view mirror, we were more than in plain sight. I was sure that we were going to get busted.

But the police car kept going… and it never stopped. They either didn’t see the mass of us hiding behind that stone wall right outside the bus station, or they simply didn’t care. I couldn’t believe it!

A few minutes later, our bus pulled out of the station, drove up the road to where we were all waiting, and stopped for a brief moment to let us all on-board.

Like pigeons fighting for a single piece of bread, we scampered on the bus and jockeyed for seats and free room in the isle.

Somehow, two of the Peruvian women who had illegally boarded the bus with us were able to finagle their way into actual seats, while Kevin and Janina and I (along with another young Peruvian man) were forced to stand in the isle at the back of the bus.

As quickly and as quietly as we could, the three of us set up camp between the crowded rows of people. And no less than two minutes into the drive, a man at the back of the bus started to shout, “Somebody’s milk is dripping on me!!!” …and Janina’s face went red.

As we were boarding the bus, the three of us had quickly thrown our belongings into the overheard compartments. For Janina, one of these belongings was a large box of milk, which when laid down in the overheard compartment had instantly started to leak. Now, the milk was dripping everywhere, spreading through the overheard compartment and getting everything in the area wet. Worst of all, the milk was dripping out of the overheads and falling onto the seated passengers below.

Janina handled the situation well. She quickly stopped the milk from leaking, placed the dripping cardboard box in a small plastic bag, and moved the leaky mess down into the isle where we were all standing. If the milk leaked now, at least it was just spilling onto the floor and not onto everyone’s bags, belongings, and heads.

With the milk catastrophe over, Kevin and Janina and I locked our knees in place and prepared ourselves for the long and painful journey ahead. We knew we would be standing for at least the next two hours – if not longer. We tried not to think about it as we took one sharp curve after another and hung on for dear life. After fifteen minutes I asked our little posse, “Are we there yet?” and Kevin laughed out load.

Now, the good news: After two hours on the bus three men got off and Kevin and Janina and I were able to secure a row of seats at the back of the bus (right next to the man who had shouted after Janina’s milk had fallen on his head).

Now that we were seated and not illegally standing on the bus like we had been for the last two hours, that meant that the bus company could not drive us all the way to Arequipa and that we wouldn’t have to be kicked off the bus before the police checkpoint just a short distance up the road.

Relieved, I sat down and exhaled. Our journey was near complete… but it wasn’t over yet.

An hour or so outside of Arequipa a man boarded our bus and with a loud confident voice promptly woke up every single passenger on board. For a moment, the man joked about having a gun, but then revealed that he was on the bus to sell us books.

For the next hour the man droned on and on about the books that he was selling. He had four different books, each of which centered around some type of popular self-help topic. There was one book for parents who wanted to discipline their children. There was another book about the health benefits of fruits. And another book on personal motivation.

On and on the man went. And while I was slightly annoyed at the ruckus he was making, I was impressed by the overall sales presentation, the marketing tactics that he employed, and the overall success with which he was able to pitch his goods.

After the book salesman finished, another man jumped up and began his spiel. This guy was much stouter, wore a nice leather jacket, and was wearing a microphone which was attached to a small speaker tied to his hip.

This gentleman was super cheesy in a late-night infomercial sort of way. He smiled and winked and wrestled with his microphone (which didn’t really work by the way). At first the man handed out free toothbrushes to everyone on board (while at the same time saying that he was a representative of CREST), then he gave out free samples of a hand cream he was selling to all the women on the bus. And when his sales pitch was over, he went back around and took back all the toothbrushes he had handed out to the people who had not purchased anything from him. It was incredible to watch!

And with that, we arrived back in Arequipa sometime before 10 PM.

In the bus station I said goodbye to my two-day travel companions. I thanked them for allowing me to tag along on during their adventures in Colca Canyon and I wished them luck on their ride to Cusco, Peru.

After a quick visit to the bus terminal restrooms, I loaded my backpack onto my shoulders and began to the half-hour walk into town and back to my apartment in the historical city center.