Both my favourite and least favourite day of the trek.

It was another frosty night, and our tent was covered in ice in the morning. We could hear the wind howling for hours overnight, but we were mercifully protected from the gusts by a tall pile of rocks. The donkey handlers made an early start, meaning sleep was impossible after 5 a.m. As usual we waited for the sun to hit us before getting up, which this morning was at 7.30 a.m. We let the warmth dry the tent slightly before leaving at 8.40 a.m.

There were several routes from here to the town of Huayllapa. The one we chose involved going over San Antonio Pass, sitting at a mighty 5,020 m. From camp, the path led straight up a scree, gravel and dirt slope, with an average gradient of 25%. We put our heads down and plodded up the tough trail without taking in anything around us. The views from the top were worth it, with a string of white peaks standing around a milky blue lagoon. It was the best scenery we had witnessed so far. It was also bitterly cold, so after a few minutes we commenced the descent on the other side.

That was when things became not so fun. We thought going up was slow, but it took far longer to go down. It was the most difficult and probably dangerous hiking either of us had ever undertaken, involving many falls, cuts, scrapes and bruises on an unstable slope averaging 30%. At times we were rooted to the spot, fearful that our next step would see us hurtling down the mountain. I think every possible emotion surged through us at some point. If you are reading this because you are contemplating this trek, DO NOT attempt the San Antonio Pass without hiking poles. If we had taken poles, I'm sure our experience would have been a lot different.

We couldn't believe it when we actually made it to the bottom, 770 m below the pass. Here we ate lunch in silence, relief flooding through us. Out of nowhere a man on horseback appeared, requesting payment for one reason or another. If you don't find them, they will find you. Later on we learned that this was one of the more dangerous passes on the circuit. Most people take the Santa Rosa Pass, slightly to the right but with the same views. It's a little longer in distance but much safer. It explains why we only saw 4 other hikers on this route. We wish we had been given this information earlier.

By this stage, most of the day had already gone but there was still a long way to go to Huayllapa. We stepped up the pace and raced down a flattish, unremarkable valley, while a cold headwind tried to push us backwards. As we progressed, rocky mountain walls closed in on us, the river we had been following became more turbulent, the sun appeared and the wind died down. The landscape turned a lush green, wildflowers and bushes appeared, and oxygen filled the air as the elevation fell below 4,000 m for the first time. The scenery was stunning, and if we weren't in such a rush we could have slowed down to enjoy it. We should have at least slowed down to follow the path accurately, because somehow found ourselves jumping over stone walls bordering farmland that was definitely not meant to be part of the route. Thankfully we eventually reunited with the main trail a little while later.

Coming into Huayllapa the path turned to sharp gravel, which felt like needles in the soles of my feet. The descent from the pass had wrecked my ankle all over again, and this was not what it needed. Only minutes from town another fee collector appeared, and he was keen to have a chat with us in Spanish. Every time we said we didn't understand, he would ask us another question. He then took an extraordinarily long time to write our details in his book. We were absolutely exhausted, our legs had over 1,500 m of descent in them, every muscle ached and we just wanted to put our packs down. Finally he let us through, and we dragged ourselves into tiny Huayllapa.

There wasn't much going on in Huayllapa. The handful of pedestrian-only streets were lined with concrete buildings, each with a brightly-painted door that was shorter than me. We found only one hostel, which gave us a room at half the price of what it cost just to enter the village. Our first priority was a semi-warm shower, followed quickly by charging our appliances and eating a stack of food (although the choices were limited on the 3 shelves behind the counter at the hostel. The other 3 stores in town held exactly the same stock). When we asked about restaurants in Huayllapa, the manager immediately shook her head and firmly said 'no'. But she took pity on us and called a friend to organise a dinner for us. At the allotted time she walked us up to their house, where we sat by ourselves in a cold, bare-bones dining room (heating didn't seem to exist in this village). I had requested a vegan meal, and was informed it would be fries and salad. The overflowing plate in front of me consisted of fries, rice and an avocado. I was looking forward to some vegetables, but I guess they have a different idea of what a salad is. It was freezing outside, so after returning to our concrete room we leapt into our real bed with real pillows under real blankets and immediately fell asleep.