Colca Canyon, Cocaine and a couple of real c**ts!

Not far from Arequipa is the Colca Canyon - Canyon of tombs. It's the second deepest canyon in the world at 3191m. The deepest is the neighbouring canyon called Cotahausi which is 163m deeper. We decide to go on a three day trek. It is here that I discover that I cannot cope with altitude. We had been sluggish ever since we hit Arequipa, but this was a joke.

Day two of the trek and we are faced with a 3 hour ascent. We spent the whole of the first day trekking all the way down and now we were on our way back up again. And when I say ascent, I mean ascent. No nice, easy slopes here. I am having to put my foot as high as my stomach to lift myself up. After about half an hour I realise that I can no longer breathe. No matter how hard I try I simply cannot get my lungs to fill with air. I start to feel dizzy and sick. I am desperately trying to keep up with the group, but even putting one foot in front of the other is making me gasp and my thigh muscles feel like they are being ripped from the bone. Tim is looking back at me annoyed and embarrassed. He thinks it's due to lack of fitness and that I am being a drama queen.

I find myself wishing he was feeling the same way so that he would have some idea what I'm going through. The pain in my legs becomes unbearable. I'm determined not to give up. I can't give up. The only way to get out of the canyon is up and there is no way any car could navigate it. I'm crying. Desperately trying to stop crying, but I can't. My head is pounding. I have to stop because my stomach is now convulsing and I am trying not to throw up and then my nose starts to bleed. I have to stop, this is scaring me now.

I ask the guide whether this is normal. He says it happens all the time. I am cursing myself, blaming the cigarettes, but then I feel slightly better when I realise that one of our group, a fit, non smoker who has trekked before is coming up the slopes even slower than I am.

I have no idea how I got to the top. It's all a bit of a blur. I rested for about half an hour and then somehow dragged myself up and carried on. We made it to a flat ridge that went on for about 4km. It was at this point that our useless guide decided to give me some coca leaves. I could have done with them a little earlier I think! I’m not quite sure how they work, but they do.

It is truly beautiful here. The rock is multi coloured chocolate, sand and red and you can see the river at the bottom. We pass a football pitch which is surrounded by rising layers of rock - it makes it look like an olympic stadium. It makes even me want to play footie!

Finally we get to rest at a place called The Oasis. Mud huts set around a huge camp fire and a natural rock pool. Lush. A bit cold though, but what the hell. We haven't showered for days. We dive in and take a shower under the waterfall. That night at dinner one of the girls in our group collapsed from exhaustion. Served her right really. I know that sounds mean. Her and her husband were charging ahead all day long ignoring the guide who was constantly telling them to slow down. At one point we lost them for a while. Their arrogance astounds me. I fell out with them on day one when we were making the trek to the bottom. They were going so fast that if you wanted to keep up with them there would be no time to take in the surroundings never mind get a photo. The route is very steep and the rocks crumble under foot so you have to be really careful. The rest of the group decided pretty much straight away that they were welcome to go as fast as they wanted. We were there to experience the canyon, not win a competition. The guide, concerned that one of them would get hurt was desperately trying to keep up with them, but would then end up leaving us behind. In the end even he lost his temper with them and gave up on them. Tossers.

We settled down in our tiny mud hut to get a few hours kip. Little did I know in a few hours time I would be looking back over my life and silently saying goodbye to my family with the very real fear that I might actually not make it through the night.