a self-supported bicycle tour through South America

12^th - 13^thSeptember Puno - Juli (81km) - Copacabana (64km)

After nearly 3 weeks of being regular tourists, we had mixed feelings about getting back on the bikes to cycle through to Bolivia. We had enjoyed being regular tourists for a while (and feeling we could get the camera out without fear of it being nicked!), but after clocking the same people in the same restaurants every night all talking about the same thing we were starting to get a little bored with the whole tourist thing and were very much looking forward to getting back to the freedom of the bike.

The freedom of the bike however does bring with it added pressures; exercising at 4,000 metres with a head cold and chest cough (and yes Mum, I am looking after myself) and the vulnerability of it just being you and your bike.

We headed off out of Puno just after sun rise under a bitterly cold blue sky. The night before the rain had bucketed down so heavily that it had left a fine dusting of snow on the mountains that surrounded the town. We were covered from head to toe in our warmest gear, but were still very cold and the only thing to warm us up was…to cycle.

When you first start out again after a few days rest, it takes a while for your body to get back into the swing of things and when you are out of breath after the first 10 minutes, you begin to question AGAIN where the crazy gene came from that made you decide to cycle through South America.

Alas, there was nowhere to turn but onwards and upwards. We only had a short day planned to make it to Juli, a little town half way between Puno and the Bolivian border town of Kasani, and as we started out so early we were finished with our cycling by midday. Not much to do with our afternoon but sit in the square and watch the locals; mainly drunk men trying to kiss Simon’s hand. Because the town was so small, we were the ones being stared at as we were certain they didn’t see many gringos on bright silver bikes cycle into town in the middle of a street parade. Needless to say it was hard for us to lay low and inconspicuous.

We did come across a smartly dressed young American Mormon Missionary attempting to convert the masses! It is interesting to note here that Mormons dress the same the world over - black trousers, white shirts and a tie, and as a result I picked him a mile off. He was an interesting character and had been posted to Peru for 2 years. He was helpful for one thing - telling us that there were no places to eat in Juli as he had been sick every time he had eaten in a restaurant. So, we settled for Doritos and chocolate bars and an early night.

Who can say that they have woken up in Peru and gone to bed in Bolivia, after cycling 64 km on their 30^th birthday? Not many, except me! I couldn’t really believe that the alarm woke us up at 0430 - it was my birthday! But I knew the earlier we started the earlier we would finish. We were also aiming to reach the border before lunch time so as to avoid a good fleecing by the border control. As it turned out, we didn’t have anything to worry about. It was a synch.

As we cycled over the border (with stamps in our passports this time) the sun started to shine and the clouds cleared to reveal a beautiful blue sky, and a Mediterraneanesque looking Copacabana nestled in a gorgeous cove and our home for the following 3 nights.

Lately, this blog writing has become a little bit of a chore. So, apologies all round for the yawn factor of this one, but the Mountain Goat’s photos make up for it I think. Also, wanted to send a huge congratulations to Jono and Frisky for the birth of my second niece, Madeline Grace, and to say thanks to my brothers and sister for remembering my birthday (this is said with great sarcasm!)..

8 - 11^th September. Puno - Lake Titicaca, Uros, and Taquile

Lake Titicaca is the world’s highest navigable body of water 3,830m above sea level covering more than 8, 500 sq km. When we arrived in Puno at dusk it felt strange to see such a large body of water stretching to the horizon. It looks like an ocean and it takes some reminding to appreciate that it is actually a lake.

After a little research and a degree of reluctance to take an organised tour, we decided to bite the bullet and pay our £5 to take a tour of the Lake with a group. It was surprisingly very, very enjoyable despite us feeling a little like we were the ones being exploited by the locals.

Uros are a group of islands that are made entirely out of floating reeds. The experience of being on them was rather surreal and perhaps a little like walking on water. The islands are kept afloat simply by adding more layers of chopped reed, and as the layers rot away more reeds are added. We were told that when the islanders have a wedding or a party (that usually go on for 4 days) the island begins to sink because of all the visitors and they have been too busy partying to bother with chopping the reeds, so for days after they are kept busy “rebuilding”.

The whole scenario of Uros and people living on floating reeds with solar powered panels attached precariously to their reed houses is rather improbable. The boat loads of tourists descend each day to “select” islands to be met by the island leader who explains how the islands are built. You are then entertained by singing, a ride in a reed boat and then of course you are shown local tat to buy at a nominal rate. You are being fleeced at every given opportunity, but at the same time you feel an obligation as you are in their home…so to speak. Read the rest of this entry »

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. Read the rest of this entry »

Huaraz - Lima

Sorry for the slight delay in getting the blog to you (especially Andy, I know how you like the news) but we’ve been pretty busy!

So, Lima is almost over. We sit here in the departure lounge pretty glad we are almost at the end of our (hopefully) last major travel excursion that doesn’t involve us cycling.

We made it to Lima on the night bus from Huaraz, in a relatively painless manner with the noticeable exception of Jen, who was kept awake by the bloke behind us who started to snore! Ironically, I was silent throughout the journey which makes a change to most nights apparently, but for those that know me, it’s no wonder I never woke to hear him. Funnily enough, this morning when I woke up to breakfast arriving at the door for 6am, Jen asked if I felt the slight earthquake tremor a few minutes earlier. It didn’t surprise me that I never knew anything of it, as I slept through the October storms way back in the 80’s when our willow tree blew down and crashed through our neighbours’ roof!

As it turned out, our main purpose in Lima was to get our visa issue sorted out as the prospect of not getting out of Peru, or being deported hung over us like a black cloud; my main concern being that of Bubba, the soap and a Peruvian jail.

The absolutely useless Sheraton hotel, which we booked because we knew we needed assistance from the Concierge and Business Centre to get everything resolved, like visa’s, bike servicing, bike boxes etc were useless in a nutshell (apart from Emily who was very helpful!). We asked the Concierge (whom it must be said never frigging works, apart from between the hours of 3-4am on 29^th February) to help us because of the Spanish/English translation issue by phoning the Immigration Office to see where we needed to go? He then directed us to the Immigration office and yes we were told it was open on a Saturday until 1700. When we got there at 1230 the sign on the door advised that they closed at 1200. So, back to the concierge who then directed us to the airport to see a lady called Rita or some other chap (I forget his name). Upon arrival at the airport, a 30 minute taxi ride out of the city centre, we eventually made it to an office where a woman (Erica) sat. She kind of understood what we were asking; however when she saw our piece of paper with the name of Rita on it, decided to make a phone call to her. She told us to go upstairs near international departures and wait at some security counter for Rita to meet us.

Cutting a long story short, she never arrived, but another man from her department did. He went away and then re-appeared and basically said that as we were not flying and didn’t have a boarding card for a flight, we’d have to go to the central immigration office in Lima! And the office wasn’t open until Monday.

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29^th - 31^st August : Lazy Dog Inn

After two nights of being Lazy Dogs, we find ourselves enjoying the food and a mint tea (yes, the tummy bug has reared its ugly head again) back at Cafe Andino in Huaraz for the 9 hour wait until our coach leaves for Lima. Our time at the Inn was lovely and relaxing. We did very little apart from update the website, eat, and enjoy the scenery at 3,900 meters. The Inn was an eco lodge, which meant home grown organic veggies, pit style loos and communal dining. The Mountain Goat isn’t too keen on doing things in groups. He is a solitary beast who likes his own space. Nevertheless, he had an audience in our fellow Lazy Dogs over dinner and breakfast, and to my surprise I wasn’t even able to get a word in!

It was nice meeting other travellers and hearing their stories, but to be honest we had so much to do with the website and photos that these conversations were a bit of an unwelcome distraction. As the Inn was fully booked for our first night there, we pitched the tent in the grounds and so enjoyed the lounge and open fire with everyone else…including the three lazy dogs; Otis, Max, and Freddie (this wasn’t his name but he looked like the Freddie that Simon had as a child) so we renamed him.

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With every intention of making our foray into the mountains as worthwhile as possible, we wanted to do as much as we could. With a recommendation from Julio and a little reading in the local guide book, we decided on making a trip to Llanganuko (glacier fed lake high up in the mountains) and the Huascaran National Park. A 6 hour round trip drive south of Huaraz would be rather unwelcome to the average bus weary traveller, but to those saddle sore amongst us, it was actually a pleasant way to see the surrounding countryside without having to bust a gut climbing hills on dirt tracks for 3 days! The climb up to the Park was spectacular. We passed through classic mountain villages with views over the countryside to rival coffee table books. Our taxi driver didn’t speak any English but was very helpful with his hand gestures and we were able to get a general idea of what he was showing us; the fields of potatoes, maize, corn and gladioli (interesting to note here that there is no Spanish equivalent) tirelessly attended to by ladies in bowler hats and brightly coloured woollen skirts. Read the rest of this entry »

26^th August - A day ride in the Cordillera Negra

Having decided to come to Huaraz, one of the activities on the agenda was mountain biking. Julio our mountain bike guide (www.chakinaniperu.com) discussed with us the possible cycle trails we could do, allowing for our concerns over the altitude had recommended a route across the Cordillera Negra.

So the morning came and we were feeling pretty good having acclimatised somewhat more easily this time compared to Quito, Ecuador. This was mainly thanks to that of Acetazolomide, a drug we bought there, but had saved for occasions like these where we’ve needed to adjust as quickly as possible.

Alturo was our guide for the day, the taxi driver was waiting outside Olazas our B&B and the bikes had been loaded. Jen and I jumped in the back and we set off. We drove through the centre of Huaraz and out the other side and began to climb the Cordillera Negra to the start of our cycle at 3800m, 800m above our B&B. Read the rest of this entry »

When one contemplates a bus ride in Northern Peru, the only image that comes to mind is of chickens and guinea pigs running around on the floor of a 1970’s bus running on bald tyres with a crazy driver swilling rum from the bottle as he takes all the corners at break neck speed. This was how we envisaged our bus trip to Huaraz. I am sure you can therefore imagine our apprehension of an overnight 8 hour journey into the mountains.

The day before we left, we had visited the Movil Tours to book our tickets and to make sure that our bikes would be allowed on. A response of “sure, no problems” was met and I was more than happy and satisfied in the knowledge that all would be ok. The Mountain Goat, on the other hand, was a little more suspect as to the certainty of our bikes actually getting on the bus. I am constantly reminding the Mountain Goat that positive thoughts are essential if the universe is to manifest what we want and bring it to us. This is often met with eye rolling.

Nevertheless, his suspicions were well grounded. When we rocked up at the station with bikes in tow we were told that because the morning bus to Huaraz had been cancelled there would be no room for our bikes and that they would have to go the following day. We politely explained to the cashier that the fact a bus was cancelled was not our problem and that perhaps they should offload some cargo to fit our bikes on! This suggestion was met with giggles and head shakes; not very promising.

We sat at the terminal for 3 hours anxiously waiting for the news that “yes” our bikes were on. Yay! My positives thoughts were working overtime. Thank you Mr Universe.

After settling into our luxury lie flat bed, yes you did read correctly. No chickens, no guinea pigs and no rum swilling crazy driver. We were ushered (very Flight Attendant like mind you) into our sleeper compartment on the lower level of the two story coach. We were also met with two very large, and very soft seats with red fleecy blankets; National Express, take notes. This is THE way to travel by coach. And this was only the beginning…..after takeoff, woops I mean after we set off (we were finding it hard to differentiate between Movil Tours and our Air New Zealand business class experience by this stage) we were served…wait for it….ham and cheese croissants, Oreo Cookies, and a glass of Inca Kola!
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21th - 24th August 07 Total: 984miles/1575km

Chiclayo > Pacasmayo (66miles/106km) > Trujillo(68miles/109km)

We awoke to that awful feeling of just wanting to stay in bed fast asleep and all warm, but we had to go. The traffic was starting to get busy, the sounds of horns tooting needlessly reminding me that one day, come the revolution, they’ll be another thing on the banned list.
Shortly after having left the hotel, Jen discovered that her bike computer wasn’t working. We stopped on the roadside and I took a look at the sensor, fiddled around a little, press a few buttons and voila, it did the trick. We moved on and not 10 seconds later Jen shouted, “It’s stopped again!” So we stopped on the roadside again and repeated the same exercise. After 3 or 4 times of this we were getting very frustrated, we couldn’t work out what was wrong with the damn thing, but at least we had mine, or so we thought! It was at this point that we discovered both were now not working. This was really weird; two completely independent bike computers had stopped for the same reason, nevertheless, we just had to push on.
As we started to get to the outskirts of Chiclayo, miraculously we managed to get mine to work, having done nothing different to the damn things that we hadn’t tried earlier. Happier that at least one of them was now working we put our heads down and tried to find that illusive groove.
It wasn’t long before the scenery turned from built-up urban sprawl, then to little small holdings with more greenery and colour, eventually culminating with the dreaded barren desert landscape with nothing to stop the strong southerly prevailing wind. In fact, nothing was great about this morning; we had both been ill for the last two days in Chiclayo hence why we stayed additional nights there. My gut was like a milk churn with the griping almost crippling at times, and it was cold, very cold.
The weather has increasingly turned cooler with every morning and the usual sun that breaks through around lunchtime to clear the grey claggy overcast skies has also got later and later. That said, when the sun does make its appearance we have mixed feelings about it. For we know that with sun, comes wind and the wind is also from the south and cripples our progress into the afternoon. Because of this, we both have tried to focus on getting as many kilometres as possible done in the morning before lunch which isn’t that easy for me as I seem to work better in the afternoons and Jen in the mornings.
As we continued our push into the day we came across a police checkpoint where the young officer was keen to find out more about us. He introduced himself and asked where we were going, what we did for jobs etc. His admiring possy gathered round and he produced a camera, with which he got one of his entourage to take a photo of us and him. He took great pleasure in shaking our hands and kissing Jen and wished us luck (I think).

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14th - 20th August 07 Total: 780miles/1248km

Piura > Naupe (65miles/104km) > Chiclayo (104miles/166km)

Jen: From Piura we anticipated a long flat deserted road smack bang through the middle of the Sechura Desert. After asking for directions as to how to get out of the city from the owner of the hotel, we found ourselves adding an extra 60km to our 2 day trip to Chiclayo by taking the alternate route that bypassed the desert road which apparently is full of thieves and very dangerous for women travellers (that’s me!).
Reluctant as we were to add more distance to our journey, we anticipated this route to be more cyclist friendly due to the many more apparent water stops along the way. With the added burden of an extra 60km, our (ok my) start was very slow. I find it hard to get going in the mornings. Motivation is very lacking especially after a dodgy croissant breakfast (no lasting energy in a croissant!) Slow starts are usually followed by words of irritation from the Mountain Goat, which are then followed by words of defence from the Slow Coach, and then what do you know? Full blown “you’re dumped, I’m going home” argument followed by more cycling but this time in opposite directions!
Needless to say, we kissed, made up and then started cycling in the same direction again. We had been expecting these types of “discussions”, and are pleasantly surprised to note that this is the first. Even after all the hills of Ecuador.

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