a self-supported bicycle tour through South America

5^th - 8th^th September. Cusco, then to Puno

After arriving in Cusco 4 hours later than scheduled we experienced the return of the altitude headache once again. Yay, what joy! We were, however a little more prepared than we had been in Huaraz and had taken drugs to prepare for our arrival so our acclimatisation was relatively painless. The waterfall weeing did return though.

Cusco is beautiful. The colonial architecture is grand to say the least and the city is a bustling centre for all sorts of travellers and tourists. The locals take great advantage of the travel weary tourist harassing you at every given opportunity, which becomes very tiring.

One loses count of the number of 4 year olds that approach you in the street wanting to sell you postcards, paintings, knitted dolls, woven belts and baby alpacas. One young fella even offered Simon a postcard in exchange for his Nikon camera, and when we laughed at him he said “ok, how about one and a half then”! We had to give him credit for his sense of humour. We also had two little girls approach us wanting to sell dolls. One asked us where we were from. After we told her she promptly and rather formerly replied “England, capital London. Australia, capital Canberra”. We were mucho impressed. Hardly anyone knows that Canberra is the capital of Australia!

These youngsters are sadly far too mature and street savvy for their age, but you can understand how and why. Their life is hard and poor from a very young age. They are just doing what they are told and what they know. Throughout the main plaza there were loads of women dressed in traditional costume, young babies, children, and baby alpacas in tow demanding money for photos. We even saw a little girl, perhaps two years old holding a puppy chasing after a couple walking down the street. She was so gorgeous but gosh what a stark reminder of the haves and have nots. Certainly makes us appreciate so much more what we have.

On our second day we headed to world renowned, always wanted to see, couldn’t wait, recently named 7th Wonder of the World Machu Picchu. The train journey, leaving at 0600, was rather exciting for the first 2 hours, but by the last 2 hours we couldn’t keep our eyes open. The scenery was incredible though as we snaked our way through the Sacred Valley of the Incas. A catnap (note to self: ear plugs not needed for short periods of the Mountain Goat napping - must try to think of world breakthrough cure for snoring), and a ham and cheese roll later we were herded onto the bus for the 20 minute ride up the mountain.

For those of you unaware (those who are please feel free to add comment for discussion) Machu Picchu was founded in 1911 by American Hiram Bingham who was in search of the hidden city of the Incas. He was lead to the site of Machu Picchu by a local farmer. Overgrown with jungle and inhabited by a single family he did not think this was what he was looking for and continued on his travels. A year later he returned and cleared the site uncovering the fabled “lost city of the Incas”. The majority of the site has been repaired over the years which make for a spectacular view and a better understanding of the life of the 600 inhabitants.

All the glossy photos you have seen of this impressive site - the only significant Inca site to escape the ravenous appetites of the conquistadors of the 16^th century (because it was hidden in the clouds!) - are true to form. So true in fact that you feel you have been there before. The amount of tourists visiting each day is staggering at 3500 during the peak season! Unfortunately for us, a Herbalife conference group was in town for the weekend and decided to descend on Machu Picchu the day we did yelling, screaming, blowing whistles and dotting the landscape with fluorescent green rain jackets. I don’t think the Incas had this in mind when they built their city to complement the majesty of the location. Hey ho.

We were suitably shattered when we got back into Cusco that night so decided to treat ourselves to an Indian. The Mountain Goat and I are missing our local Indian Ocean in Southbourne and wetted our appetites with the thought of a “chicken byriani” and “chicken tikka masala yes please” to console our Herbalife day. Not to be!

After settling in to our seats and looking through the menu, the proprietor (screaming baby in tow who should have been in bed as 2100hrs is way past his bedtime!) told us that there was no entrees available as it was night time. Mmmm, interesting. Ok, no problems we will just order mains.

All the meals came with white rice but Simon wanted onion rice instead. Not possible we were told. We would have to order onion rice separately. Fine we said, but were told that if we ordered onion rice the white rice would still come and then we would have too much food for two people. Ok, no problems … whatever (envisaging spittage in our food if we disagreed). She was, after all, doing us a favour allowing us to sit in her restaurant. In the 50 minutes it took for our order to arrive, several people from a large group approached the waitress to explain that they had been waiting 40 minutes for their rice and that they couldn’t start their mains without rice and papa dams. We were worried.

Our worries were very well founded. Needless to say our food was very disappointing. The curry tasted as it had been thrown together, and the service? What service! I think we have been eating out far too much and our expectations for service and food are becoming too high. Welcome back Chorizo Paprika!

The following day we boarded the Andean Explorer (owned by the Orient Express) to Puno. A very flash train journey through the most spectacular scenery we have seen to date. We felt very privileged putting day packs onto brass luggage racks, and then settling into our plush lounge chairs in front of little dining tables with brass lamps next to the window. We were armchair travellers on this day - in every sense of the word!

At the rear of the train there was an open viewing carriage where we could take photos and wave at people working in the fields as we steamed pass them. One can only imagine what these people must think of a train full of Gringos snapping away at them tending to their fields and going about their day paying more for a 10 hour train journey than they could earn in 3 months. Again, a reminder for us to be grateful for what we have and the opportunities we have to get more.

The locals in these areas, sadly, are relying more and more on tourism to make a living. We stopped at one pass, to let the cat-suit clad jewellery models (yes, on a number of occasions I had to pick Simon’s jaw up off the floor) off the train, to be faced with a market smack bang in the middle of nowhere hastily set up in anticipation for us getting off the train. I will let the photos of the animal on our heads speak for our obligation purchase - we are preparing for the desert nights in Bolivia. I suspect Fashion Houses the world over will be featuring Alpaca in their Spring Collection though after seeing these pickies.

We arrived into Puno on the shore of Lake Titicaca (the highest navigable lake in the world) later that evening to thunder and lightning having passed 4390 metres in one day. The train journey was so special and the service was incredible. We have enjoyed living a life of luxury off the bikes for a few weeks but are looking forward to getting back on and feeling the sense of achievement we get after days cycling. [Jen]

Check out more photos here