Mysterious lagoon

The best hike of my life happened in 2013, when I saw Laguna de los Condores in Peru.

On horseback or on foot, depending on terrain, it was kilometres of constant uphill and downhill through what seemed like beds of mountain springs and not paths, slippery everything, pouring cold rain at intervals and general dampness all the time. We had to cross many ridges and swamps, where a misstep meant getting boot-full into mud, and potentially even deeper – I still don’t know how deep those bogs were.

We saw only one other person in those 3 days of trekking – a local shepherd, I think. No electricity in sight, so at night it was pitch black, although the stars were glowing like in outer space. You could see stars upon stars, layers of them receding deeper into the galaxy, the entire night sky twinkling. The clouds, frowning from the sky all day, magically cleared at night, like the curtains in a theatre open up to show the glittering stage. Close enough to the equator that they appear enormous, and so remote from electricity, airways, and other traces of modern life, that there seems to be only a permeable membrane between us and them: reach out your hand and it will go through it like the cool surface of a creek and you will caress the stars.

The next morning we rose early and set out for the final leg of our journey. I was at the front and, after a few minutes, happened to casually look to my right. I was expecting to see more of the foggy mountains and gigantic clouds overhanging so low that they were licking the treetops. We were, after all, in the Peruvian cloud forest. But in the crystal silence of early morning, I saw a gorgeous lake instead. It looked so beautiful and mysterious that for a moment literally rendered me speechless. Instead of saying something, I just pointed at it. It took me 3 years to get to it and to this day it is the most gorgeous body of water I’ve seen. Not very large, but so deep that the water appears black when there is no sun. It was like a black pearl in the palm of a hand.
At the top of another mountain we encountered the mummies. Smelling jungle dampness everywhere, hearing the now roaring, now whispering rain, and sensing time that was moving and still at once is how I remember that moment.
Later the sun came out. I was surprised to see that the laguna could be blue and green, it wasn’t inherently black at all. We saw all its moods in those few hours. Rarely have I had such full, filling and fulfilling, satisfying days.