9th - 10th August 07 Total: 428 miles / 685km
Machala > Tumbes (68miles/109km)
Having spent yesterday lazing around the hotel, on another rest day, we contemplated what lay ahead of us again. It seems that we are constantly aware of the nightmare situation of trying to find somewhere to stay for the night. Although we have done ok so far, the thought just never seems to subside and is starting to overcome the sense of excitement especially when it’s late in the day and we’re tired. That said, today was somewhat different. Having left the hotel in Machala, we headed southeast to join back up with the main road south towards the Peru
vian border. As usual the traffic was busy around 0900hrs and as always the drivers of whatever type of vehicle they are driving just cannot help but toot their horns at every given opportunity, at least this makes us more aware of their presence when coming up the rear 
We don’t mind this so much, but some of them seem to enjoy hitting the horn right alongside which can make you leap out the saddle at times.
The damn banana plantations slowly gave way to increasingly drier terrain which was a very welcome sight as it meant that the landscape was opening up giving me the chance to spot more than one place where a potential campsite could be made for the night. As the day went on the landscape got drier and drier, eventually resembling the arid regions of Colorado that I enjoyed so much.
Somewhere a few clicks to the south outside of Santa Rosa, we were cycling along one of the red roads on the map that paralleled the main blue one, this should’ve have meant that it was a pretty safe bet. However, true to form, the road was obviously in need of desperate repairs long ago, and now the decision had been made to build another road alongside. Unfortunately the road-works meant that we had to endure some horrible bumpy sections that really shook our bones.
Before long, Jen who was behind me was startled to find a car pull alongside, the man in the back seat wound down the window only to lean out with something in his hand. It didn’t take long to realise that it was only a camera and he was grinning from ear to ear whilst merrily clicking away like a Japanese tourist. They then shot forward in front of me and took some more snaps, I smiled and worked it as hard as I dared, I could hear him saying “work it baby, work it baby, the camera loves you” (but then I think this all the time) . They then pulled over to the side of the road beckoning us to stop; they jumped out and started rambling in Spanish to us. We kind of pieced together that they were working for some tourist type board agency and were so pleased to see us, interested in where we has come from, where we were going to and what nationality we were; oh, and how long we’d been married. It crossed my mind that instead of camels I might be in for some easy trekking through the Andes ahead if I could get perhaps two or three mules as a trade for Jen, but the discussion never ventured down that ally, come to think of it, it wasn’t really a discussion at all. We gave him a bigskylife business card, our names and email address so hopefully somewhere we’ll end up in a tourist magazine for Ecuador as an advert for eco-friendly tourism.
We continued on our way, the landscape getting drier all the time, my thoughts of finding a camping spot getting rosier and rosier all the time. We finally got to Arenillas which was shown to be a place where four roads crossed and turned out to be exactly that, just a roundabout with eight arms (this reminded us that you just cannot tell with the maps out here how busy or well equipped a town may be ).
We continued on to Huaquillas the border town between Ecuador and Peru. We still had to change some money from US dollars into Sol and really had no idea of the process or procedure we’d have to follow to get across the border. We were assured by the receptionist in Machala that we’d be able to change money there and so were reasonably happy.
Huaquillas actually turned out to be another busy market town resembling the chaotic street market stalls, shanty town outskirts with substantial town centre that typifies a place here. We found a lovely bakery, however they seem to only really deal in sweet pastries and a limited choice of bread. That said, the apple-like and caramel filled turnovers were pretty good although Jen found them sickly (can you believe!) I toyed with the idea of getting a custard tart for Nomad back home, however I thought the language too close to the female variety and could see the trouble I could end up in. God only knows, it’s difficult enough getting them to be animated about a possible transaction by pointing to what you want, let alone trying order something that they don’t have out on display (as Jen discovered last night trying to substitute the Tripe for Chicken in a dish on the dinner menu!)
We felt uneasy again in the town centre, which is often the case when it all gets a bit hectic going through these busy towns, I’m kind of getting fed up with the guy’s wolf-whistling at me all the time, surely it should be Jen getting all the grief, but I guess it’s understandable. (Might have something to do with his lycra shorts! – J)
We hurried though to the other side and onward a few clicks to the border. As we approached the border patrol, like many other police checkpoints we’d come across, we zoomed up the inside, I told Jen who was in front to keep a steady pace look ‘em in the eye and if they caused any trouble to gun-it, not spare any horses and take no prisoners, but alas it was all too easy. We cycled through slowly and no one said anything, the guards were busy with the line of people and cars at the control booths, to be honest it was a bit of a letdown, but a relief all the same.
Endless kilometre came and went with the scenery resembling again parts of the US or Australia in desert regions, but now with the added bonus of complete bogun type yute (pike-mofo utlity/SUV for those in the UK) vehicles resembling something out of a mad-max movie that I just had to laugh at . Also the added abundance of Took-tooks was a stark change too.
We were getting tired as we road into Tumbes late on in the day, Jen’s backside was starting to feel the 100km century (although not a true Brit century 100miles/160km) that she achieved again today for the second time. This was somewhat overshadowed by the realisation that we were once again back into the damn banana plantations and paddy fields again with few prospects of finding campsites having left Tumbles extremely hectic main street markets behind as fast we could.
I could sense that Jen was starting to envisage another late evening endurance sprint to the next hopeful place of camping, a lighthouse on the coast indicated on the map close to the main road; surely we’d find a beach or somewhere to stay there?
Luckily, Jen spotted “Campo Verde” on the outskirts of Tumbles, which as it turns out should be had up under the trade descriptions act, as it is anything but green and there isn’t much in the way of camping either. There were two women on the gate when we arrived and they obviously understood that we were after a campground. They basically gave us the option of either camping in a dust bowl type car-park for $15 for the night, or having one of the motel style rooms for the same amount. The rooms as it happens weren’t that awful all things considered (at least it was one price for the night and not sold by the hour) and the dust is pretty dusty out here in the desert, so we of course opted to stay in the motel room, negating the need to setup/pack down the tent, but on closer inspection we thought it necessary (as before) to sleep in our sleeping bags on top of the beds. This whole scenario was kind of confusing as one can imagine, camp or motel room – same price…..perhaps they need to be taught a little more business sense….
Still we’re safe and secure for another night, who knows what the future holds, I’m still very concerned about the bottom brackets of both bikes, as they seem to be on their way out. Jen’s was the one that started going first, I only hope that they make Lima where we can have spares flown in, as I don’t think we’ll be able to get any spares that come anywhere close to resembling a bottom bracket out here and we have a desert to cross first! Plus my saddle that low and behold started to wobble ever so slightly two days before we left the UK, can turn through 90 degrees now on its own. Only the second complaint I have after the bottom bracket, about the otherwise brilliant Koga bikes, not to mention the saddle sores!
Better photos are coming tonight from the last two days…[Simon]
