Day 4 Pillahuata to Cock-of-the-Rock Lodge

This early morning we are birding before the sun. Last night's elusive Swallow-tailed Nightjar is showing himself in Huw's flashlight and the stars are still magnificent. After about an hour we enjoy a candlelit pancake breakfast in the dining tent and we're walking off along the road again in dawn's early light trying to find some of the specialty mountain birds. The bus and the Lads catch up with us after they have packed everything up. Julia is still wearing all of her clothes. It's chilly up here in the clear mountain morning. We hear, but do not see, the Gray-breasted Mountain-Toucan. This morning's bus-ride takes us down, down to the river valley.

We stop in the village of Paucartambo to have a stretch, a look around the town and a trip to the public restrooms. Ah, thinks Julia, this is going to be good. Andy pays the attendant who tries to hand us each a little square of paper. "No gracias" as Julia pats her pocket with the necessary roll safely tucked there for this occasion. It is a tiny, smelly stall with a hole in the floor, which is puddled with water. At least she hopes it's water, but really doesn't want to know. There are two places on either side of the hole that are where your feet go. Since Julia knows that Ann is in here with her, she says, "Ann??" to which Ann replies, "I wouldn't stand where it looks like you're supposed to". Now the problem is that Julia still has on her three layers and there physically isn't enough room in here to pull them all down and get into a squatting position while taking care not to stand where she's been advised not to stand. Hmm. Okay. So she stands on her left foot, unties and takes off her right boot, takes off her first right pant leg, her second right pant leg, and then her right long underwear leg, all the while balancing on that left foot and trying not to touch anything and not get any of these dangling layers in whatever that wet stuff is all over the floor. The stockinged right foot finds it's way back into the boot and somehow Julia manages to do her business. The used wad of paper is thrown into the corner as has been done by other public restroom users this morning. Then the whole three layer pant leg process is reversed. She does not see how to flush what's now in the hole and leaves the public restroom to breathe some fresher air, vowing always to use the bushes instead after this.

We spot a couple of birds down under a bridge and walk through a center square in this town, taking a few photos before we board the bus. And now we travel up and up on our winding mountain road. On this stretch we are on a quest for the Red-and-White Antpitta. This bird is often heard and seldom seen. If we are lucky enough to see it, it will be fleeting at best. It will hop, skip and jump across an open spot in the brush along the side of the road. So off the bus we climb. Huw knows the exact spot where to look, lines up all eight of us, tells us not to move, be very quiet and we wait. He plays the Red-and-White Antpitta's call on his tape player over and over and over twenty times. Nothing. We walk a little ways. Another perfect spot is found. Again we line up, watching and waiting and being very still, quiet as church mice. This time we hear the bird. But we do not see it. The Lads have lunch ready for us. The search will have to wait until we're nourished. And we are out of luck. We all know the call of the Red-and-White Antpitta by heart though.

We make our way by bus to our new home for the next four nights, Cock-of-the-rock Lodge. It is almost dark when we arrive, making our way along the cobblestone path to the dining room. There are several candles on the long table, which is our only lighting. We are shown a table with drinking water, thermoses of hot water, coca tea, Milo, and a bowl of fruit. There are packages of soda crackers and we may help ourselves to any of these at any time. We are assigned bungalows and we make our way along the cobblestones to find our bags waiting outside on the steps where oil lamps have been lit outside each one. There is not much time before dinner, a bit of unpacking and getting squared away by the three candles that light our bungalow. Julia is wondering if there will ever be time for a rest, a little meditation, a few winks of a nap, a lie down, even a couple of free minutes to write some of this down……..so far this kind of leisure has been missing. And it is not going to be today.

Back to the dining room where we each are offered a Pisco Sour, a Peruvian cocktail made of fermented grape alcohol, limejuice, sugar and egg white. This is our official welcome-to-the-lodge happy hour! Andy and Julia are sticking to coca tea, thanks. At dinner we are served the incredible soup of the day and fabulous vegetarian entrée and dessert that we have come to expect. We are fed and happy and tired as we go over the List. We all mark "H" for "heard" for the Red-and-White Antpitta. Tomorrow before dawn we will walk to the lek. (Here's what the dictionary says about this word: lek n. an area where certain male animals gather to perform their courtship displays). It is just up the road from the lodge and we hope to see the bird that this lodge is named after. The brilliant red with black wing feathers and white rump Cock-of-the-rock does a dance to attract the lady Cocks-of-the-rock (or are they Hens-of-the-rock?) every morning just as the sun rises. We don't want to miss this.

Back over the cobblestones to our bungalow, Andy and Julia both climb into the same twin-sized bed for coziness and tuck the mosquito netting in around the edges. We put on the extra blanket from the unused bed, but we find that we don't need this many covers. It is warmer here at this lower elevation.