Yesterday we had decided to make today a calm one, because of my knee. Instead of taking a full rest day, we were only going to cycle 25–30 km today so we could afford ourselves a nice slow morning at our beautiful campsite. When we started cycling, it was further uphill but the clouds that were hanging in the mountains made for a very special and beautiful atmosphere. Once we cycled down, we saw signs announcing that we entered the natural habitat of the Andean Fox and the Andean Condor. We saw neither of the two but another Andean inhabitant instead: a huge tarantula. And when I say huge I really mean it. It made the big spider two days ago look like a baby because this one was almost as big as my hand. I was mesmerized, scared, and appalled at the same time and when we continued cycling it constantly felt as though something was crawling up my leg or back. Of course nothing was there but I still had the chills from seeing that huge spider.

We cycled down into a small village close to Pojo and couldn’t believe our eyes when two condors flew above our heads. We couldn’t recognize them completely well but they were very big and this was their territory so we thought it was a condor. We felt so amazed and saw several more later that day only to later be fact-checked by our trusty reader Bob. He is a bird spotter and in the kindest way possible let me know that what we had seen was most likely a Turkey Vulture and not a condor. I rewatched my video footage and sadly realized that it wasn’t a condor indeed. So yeah, thanks for educating me Bob and helping me tell those two birds apart. Would I have lived a happier life if I had believed that I had seen so many condors? Yes. But it would have also been a stupider life so to speak, so I’m glad I can at least tell these two predatory birds apart now.

In the village we had lunch which was even accompanied by vegetables that had been either peeled or cooked so that I could eat without risking being sick again. What a delight! We had an ice cream for dessert and cycled on after buying a bag of locally grown peaches. We strenuously cycled upwards again after that until we finally searched for a spot to stay the night before night would fall. We found a suitable but ugly spot right next to the road.

At this point, Jacques and I both thought that Göran looked awfully pale and he had been complaining about acid reflux for a bit. And sure enough, about 5 minutes later the poor guy stood in the bushes retching, while Jacques and I were peeling vegetables, feeling sorry for him. The only thing that he had eaten but we hadn’t was his ice cream and a few gummy bears. But knowing what had caused it wouldn’t help the poor guy now. After throwing up a few more times, Göran went to rest in the tent and Jacques and I prepared dinner.

Because cycling uphill all day, Göran throwing up, and finding a mediocre campsite apparently wasn’t enough, it also started to rain. A lot. Hence everything was wet, cold and stupid. Because Göran still had to throw up, I later had to clean the bag he had vomited into. A big act of affection on my behalf because I have a very sympathetic gag reflex and we also didn’t have proper running water and soap for me to wash my hands under afterwards. It was a disgusting job and I was happy I had my rain gloves (i.e. cleaning gloves) on to avoid contaminating my bare hands. Why didn’t we just throw the bag away? Because it was the only proper sturdy bag we had that definitely didn’t have holes in it. Ergo, we needed it in case he would have to throw up again later that night. The poor guy.

We went to bed with the thought that we were glad this evening was over and hoped for better weather the next day.