“¿Quisieran que les cuento la historia de la mistica sirena? Would you like to hear the story of the mystical mermaid?” Señora Teo tapped her walking stick on the trail and glanced over her shoulder. I nodded, too out of breath to answer.
“Not too long ago, there was a shaman named Gregorio,” she began, without a trace of exertion. “He and his wife lived by the river, and he would often go up to the base of the waterfall and speak with the mermaid that lived there…”
Señora Teo leads the way to Gocta falls.
Señora Teo’s story was on the surface a cautionary tale about the caprices of mystical creatures, but stories like this one could help explain why a waterfall as tall as Gocta remained unknown to the outside world until 2006. It’s location in a blind ravine in the remote Peruvian province of Amazonas might help, too: Amazonas’ capital, Chachapoyas, was unreachable by paved road until a few years ago, and the airport has been in sporadic operation since 2003.
Gocta gushes during the rainy season but is a thin ribbon of water in the dry season.
More info on Gocta Falls
Click here for recommendations on lodging in our interview with Rafo Leon, host of the travel show "Tiempo de Viaje."
At 771 meters (2,531 feet), however, Gocta Falls ranks among the world’s giants. Stefan Ziemendorff, the German who first measured the falls, announced in March 2006 that the falls were the third highest in the world. Since then the claim has been challenged, and Gocta is currently rated as 16th by the World Waterfall Database. Part of the challenge relates to Gocta’s segmented nature: the falls are broken into two segments of 230 meters on top and 540 down below.
In three short years a tourism infrastructure has sprung up in the nearby town of Cocachimba, in the form of a cooperative of guides and other tourism industry workers. Our guide, Señora Teo, pointed out the improvements being made in the area for the expected increase in tourism: a large hotel that, when finished, could probably house the entire small population of Cocachimba; a few restaurants, both in town and one along the trail; and a small hotel about an hour’s walk along the trail, with all the amenities, where one could relax for a few days enjoying the wildlife, the scenery, and birdwatching.
Señora Teo is one of the fourteen guides that take turns leading visitors from Cocachimba to the base of the falls. The trail itself was excellently if steeply built to accommodate the influx of visitors. I asked Señora Teo how people had gotten to the falls before, and she shrugged. “Nobody went,” she said. She told us that the total elevation change would less that 100 meters, a deceptive number that doesn’t take into account the mountainous terrain that separates the town of Cocachimba from the waterfall.
If we thought we’d only be seeing a tall waterfall, we were wrong. Señora Teo led us through fields of sugar cane, corn, beans, beets, pineapple, banana, potato and carrot, pointing out local agricultural practices as we went (such as the planting of a stalk of corn and a bean vine together, so that the beans can use the corn as support as they grow). We also passed several sugar cane mills where the cane is pressed in a giant wringer powered by oxen, the juice extracted, then boiled for six hours to form the dry, condensed panela.
Getting There: The hike itself took 6 hours, though that’s taking into account Rob’s photo pitstops, and the time relaxing beside the river. From Chachapoyas we took a collectivo for 10 soles which drove us up to Cocachimba, but as we didn’t arrange transportation back we ended up walking 5 kilometers down to the main road and hitchhiking back to Chachapoyas (getting a ride is easy in Amazonas region, despite the general lack of traffic). As tourism to the area picks up it will probably be easier to reach Cocachimba, but for now it’s still a wild and unpaved adventure. Just like we like ‘em.
From cultivated land we passed into old growth jungle, draped with vines and festooned with orchids. Giant ferns rose up beside the trail, eerily prehistoric. Since the construction of the trail much of the wildlife has made itself scarce, but the first tourists to arrive in the forest had been confronted by large yellow monkeys, Sra. Teo said, which surrounded them in the trees and screamed at them, throwing sticks.
From time to time we could see the falls through breaks in the foliage: In the rainy season it would be a torrent, but today it was a long, thin white ribbon twisting down out of the mountains.
After nearly two hours hiking we arrived at the base of the bottom fall, where the water did not strike the ground, but simply dissipated as a mist swirling down in waves and eddies. The waters created a wind of their own that was chilly in the sunlight.
At the base of the falls is a pool, beautiful for swimming but with a hole in the center that draws in water and spits it out two kilometers downstream. It can draw in swimmers, as well, Señora Teo cautioned, but the day was too chilly for us to be tempted. The water of the pool and the river was a deep shade of rust fading to black — a result of the iron in the stones of the cliff.
It was easy to imagine a mermaid lurking in those dark waters, waiting for us to leave so she could reclaim her grotto.
“Not too long ago, there was a shaman named Gregorio,” she began, without a trace of exertion. “He and his wife lived by the river, and he would often go up to the base of the waterfall and speak with the mermaid that lived there…”
Señora Teo leads the way to Gocta falls.
Señora Teo’s story was on the surface a cautionary tale about the caprices of mystical creatures, but stories like this one could help explain why a waterfall as tall as Gocta remained unknown to the outside world until 2006. It’s location in a blind ravine in the remote Peruvian province of Amazonas might help, too: Amazonas’ capital, Chachapoyas, was unreachable by paved road until a few years ago, and the airport has been in sporadic operation since 2003.
Gocta gushes during the rainy season but is a thin ribbon of water in the dry season.
More info on Gocta Falls
Click here for recommendations on lodging in our interview with Rafo Leon, host of the travel show "Tiempo de Viaje."
At 771 meters (2,531 feet), however, Gocta Falls ranks among the world’s giants. Stefan Ziemendorff, the German who first measured the falls, announced in March 2006 that the falls were the third highest in the world. Since then the claim has been challenged, and Gocta is currently rated as 16th by the World Waterfall Database. Part of the challenge relates to Gocta’s segmented nature: the falls are broken into two segments of 230 meters on top and 540 down below.
In three short years a tourism infrastructure has sprung up in the nearby town of Cocachimba, in the form of a cooperative of guides and other tourism industry workers. Our guide, Señora Teo, pointed out the improvements being made in the area for the expected increase in tourism: a large hotel that, when finished, could probably house the entire small population of Cocachimba; a few restaurants, both in town and one along the trail; and a small hotel about an hour’s walk along the trail, with all the amenities, where one could relax for a few days enjoying the wildlife, the scenery, and birdwatching.
Señora Teo is one of the fourteen guides that take turns leading visitors from Cocachimba to the base of the falls. The trail itself was excellently if steeply built to accommodate the influx of visitors. I asked Señora Teo how people had gotten to the falls before, and she shrugged. “Nobody went,” she said. She told us that the total elevation change would less that 100 meters, a deceptive number that doesn’t take into account the mountainous terrain that separates the town of Cocachimba from the waterfall.
If we thought we’d only be seeing a tall waterfall, we were wrong. Señora Teo led us through fields of sugar cane, corn, beans, beets, pineapple, banana, potato and carrot, pointing out local agricultural practices as we went (such as the planting of a stalk of corn and a bean vine together, so that the beans can use the corn as support as they grow). We also passed several sugar cane mills where the cane is pressed in a giant wringer powered by oxen, the juice extracted, then boiled for six hours to form the dry, condensed panela.
Getting There: The hike itself took 6 hours, though that’s taking into account Rob’s photo pitstops, and the time relaxing beside the river. From Chachapoyas we took a collectivo for 10 soles which drove us up to Cocachimba, but as we didn’t arrange transportation back we ended up walking 5 kilometers down to the main road and hitchhiking back to Chachapoyas (getting a ride is easy in Amazonas region, despite the general lack of traffic). As tourism to the area picks up it will probably be easier to reach Cocachimba, but for now it’s still a wild and unpaved adventure. Just like we like ‘em.
From cultivated land we passed into old growth jungle, draped with vines and festooned with orchids. Giant ferns rose up beside the trail, eerily prehistoric. Since the construction of the trail much of the wildlife has made itself scarce, but the first tourists to arrive in the forest had been confronted by large yellow monkeys, Sra. Teo said, which surrounded them in the trees and screamed at them, throwing sticks.
From time to time we could see the falls through breaks in the foliage: In the rainy season it would be a torrent, but today it was a long, thin white ribbon twisting down out of the mountains.
After nearly two hours hiking we arrived at the base of the bottom fall, where the water did not strike the ground, but simply dissipated as a mist swirling down in waves and eddies. The waters created a wind of their own that was chilly in the sunlight.
At the base of the falls is a pool, beautiful for swimming but with a hole in the center that draws in water and spits it out two kilometers downstream. It can draw in swimmers, as well, Señora Teo cautioned, but the day was too chilly for us to be tempted. The water of the pool and the river was a deep shade of rust fading to black — a result of the iron in the stones of the cliff.
It was easy to imagine a mermaid lurking in those dark waters, waiting for us to leave so she could reclaim her grotto.
