Flights in Huancavelica

Huancavelica ( Quechua: huanca = rock, velica = ?), an old colonial mining town. Since the days of the Sendero Luminoso, there seem to be a lot of prejudices in all of Peru against this part of the country, I rarely heard non-local Peruvians talk nicely about the area here. It was founded by the Spanish colonists as a mining camp to gain mercury, which is indispensable for the treatment of the raw ores of gold mines. Nowadays the mines still operate and the town leaves a rather idyllic impression with its many colonial churches and nice squares. By a pretty orange coloured train we went up the Río Mantaro and down the Río Ichu again. When arrived, I found not only that the inhabitants are extremely friendly, but also, that the rocky hill Potoqchi, the closest elevation to Huancavelica, is an exceptionally well suited flying spot. Easy accessible and nice thermals.

Launch at 4200 m between ten and eleven o'clock in the soft Ichu grass, direction south towards the city, thermal flights, large landing strip in the local stadium at 3700 m (before the landing it is usually empty). Towards the east the valley of the Río Ichu is open, so cross flights down the valley may be possible.

The roofs of Huancavelica with the Potoqchi in the background

Launch helpers at the Potoqchi. 10:30, the thermals are obviously already sufficient. The ascent lasts 1 1/2 hours, flying only until about noon, in the afternoon the wind comes from the north bringing a strong downward flow.

View during the flight towards the east

Flight above the city

From the diary:
"there's already music playing in the stadium and sillions of children in sport dresses with their parents and coaches run around: It's the large local sport celebration. And while I still ponder over the brevity of life, of the history of human mankind and especially of my flight (I wasted some promising thermals playing around with my camera), I am at once surrounded by a large crowd, very different from the lonely Cordillera Blanca landings. Huge applause: it is the first time that someone flies his paraglider here. Then I am handed around like a teddy bear in order to join fotographs with various people, incredibly pretty teenagers throw kisses to me and want autographs (I'm not lying, although I do already have a thick beard again...), thousands of hands, from smallest to age-old must be shaken just like the Pope (by the way, what are the chances for Arnold in Rome?), then some officer, seemingly straight from Hollywood, in uniform and sun glasses, greets with military greeting and asks for my personal data "to capture this historical moment!" he says, wow! Finally the usual awkward folding of my sail, awkward because of the many small hands and feet in between, stowing it away in the backpack and farewell. In the hotel I sink on my bed and walk straight to Munchkin land, although it is only little after noon. Concentration at the launch and the whole ballyhoo was a little too much. Little later a violent thunderstorm with hail and snow lets forget that only three hours earlier somebody has been hanging up there in the sky."

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