By: Daisy
Location: Peru part 1
Date: 2nd March 2007

Crossed at the smaller, less-used border in attempt to remove time and hassle factor from Border Crossing Equation. Worked a treat as we were surrounded by charming locals full of questions and excitement. Almost immediately the brick houses of Ecuador change into shanty huts of mud and branches, the temperature goes up by about 15 degrees and the lush rolling hills turn into 120 miles of desert. Have to stop in an ‘interesting’ town ‘cos guess what? Another flat! That’s 3 in 2 days. About a hundred people crowded round us in the street to watch the whole tyre incident – the cars were honking like hell at the Peruvians straddling the entire road in order to catch a glimpse of:

1. ‘Gringo’s’ in town
2. Strange contraption they’re riding
3. What goods might be on board that’s worth pilfering when the Gringo’s are looking the other way

A note on Inca Kola
Take a pinch of illuminous lime food clouring, add to as much Tartrazine as you can lay your hands on, sprinkle a generous amount of Caffeine into the mixture and whisk in a generous fistful of Irn Bru flavouring. Result! You have just made the national drink of Peru, sales outstripping Coca Cola and a veritable treat on the pallet!!! Someone get this stuff to the UK!

Puncture count up to 5 in 7 days – Mu and I make quite a Kwik Fit team now! Make it to Lima: capital of Peru, 8 million people’s litter strewn by the road festering, a choking, grey smog sitting over the city, shanty housing as far as the eye can see; no wonder Paddington hopped on that plane. Check into our ‘love hotel’ where people of the night lay their heads or whatever they do, purchase knock-off Issey Miyake perfume (L’eau De Sissy – how apt) and take 3 hours to find bike shop where bizarre local chap proceeds to inform us of his height and star sign. Strange people in this country.

Leave Lima for more desert. Meet Bruno, a Peruvian in the middle of the desert who has a “Wuthering Heights” obsession and writes out a love letter to Emily Bronte whilst we stare in disbelief. He makes me promise to deliver it next time I’m passing the North Yorkshire Moors. I hate to tell him she died 130 years ago, but I feel I have to for his own sake: he doesn’t mind as he knows she comes back down to earth at night and reads her mail. Definitely strange people in this country.

Best things about the desert in Peru

1) The Nazca Lines, 2,000 year old weirdy etchings across miles of desert. Thought to be a giant astronomical calendar, alternatively landing strips for ‘the others’. Best way to see it is by plane; the cheaper, shantier and fouler smelling the better – all adds to the experience. And really is an amazing experience – you wouldn’t see them from the road, but there’s hundreds of lines and animals and figures, perfectly geometric and some quite comedy.

2) Biggest sand dune in the world.

3) Pre-Inca burial site. 15 underground chambers housing immaculately preserved (eerily so) men, women, children and babies. Hair, fingernails, the lot. The desert surrounding the site is strewn with bits of bone and mummification materials as far as the eye can see. Was tempted to bring home a Femur but thought Customs may have something to say about it.

Llama (possibly Alpaca) count:  unquantifiable. Also I’m now educated and know the difference between Llama’s and Alpaca’s. Currently trying to work out a way to smuggle one of the darlings back to the UK as they’re cute beyond belief!

Another tune to keep you in the mood.

From: Mark
Date: 14 March
Location: Peru

I have only known of two people from Peru.  One was a Project Manager from my last place of work and the other was Paddington Bear (not strictly a person, but hey).  So when I was greeted by a customs of office at the Peruvian border, I was sadly disappointed to find that he was dressed in a smartly pressed uniform and not a blue duffle coat and red hat.  Before handing him my passport, I quickly removed the Marmalade Sandwiches I had absently ‘misplaced’ in between two of it’s pages to help smooth our entry in Peru.

As time ticked on I was however greatly surprised when I realised that the customs office knew what he was doing.  I was even more surprised when he quickly, efficiently and competently completed all the tasks he need to do, to allow both of us and the bike to enter the country, without making a great song and dance about the whole thing.

Back on the road after only and hour at the border, we rode down through the warm foothills of the Andes and out into flat, sun bleached, scrub covered plains.  Through an area that was up until only a few years ago part of Ecuador and had been lost to Peru through a recent war.  The villages we passed were much poorer than across the border, mostly made of mud brick houses with tin roofs.  Passing through this Northern expanse and heading towards the Coast, we noticed several things:

1. Rubbish, so much rubbish.  Fields of gently flapping, multicoloured plastic bags can be found on the edges of all villages and towns.  In addition, broken glass and pieces of metal line the entire length of the hard shoulders on all of Peru’s main roads, contributing to our tally of punctures.  Wherever there are people, there is rubbish. 

2. Idling appears to be something of a national pastime for the local men.  It’s a skill that all ages practice at all times of the day, and to be honest, they appear to have it cracked.  They can be found in a variety of locations, including under trees, around drinks dispensers at the wheels of parked cars or just randomly positioned lying in the road.  They idle in groups or as individuals.  They idle with their eyes closed or in a semi-awake state.  The more advanced idlers choose positions within close proximity to women, presumably to increase their individual idlers score:  A chica wolf-whistle notches up 10 points, where as a hearty belly laugh at a 50 year carrying a sack of maize on her shoulders hauls in a massive 25 points.  Good work lads.

3. Manners are niceties dispensed by the weak.  The strong and powerful prefer not to acknowledge the presence of paying customers, waiters, petrol pump attendants or pedestrians. 

4. The fact that we ride with the motorbike light on is something of a peculiarity in Peru.  In most other countries, motorcyclists ride with their lights on to increase the chances of being seen by other road users (which considering the state of driving in Peru is an essential).  In Peru however, every other car (which is a lot after a week) flashes its lights at us, with the driver pointing to our lights and frantically making the international blinky-blinky hand signal for lights.  It was as if, by leaving our lights on, the locals were afraid we would incur the wraith of some ancient Inca god and with it some terrible vengeance.  Fools.

We travel south down the Transamerican Highway, passing through an endless supply of crap coastal towns.  The road takes us never more than a few miles from the coast and nearly always through desert.  Occasionally we cross green and fertile river valleys – strips of maize and sugar cane fields, surrounded by Palm Trees.  However, for the majority of the time, we cross barren desert.  So many types of desert – sand dunes, barren scrub plains, rocky plains, desert hills and sun cracked mud.  As we ride the smaller slithers of bare flesh exposed to the elements (wrists, visor openings etc) get burnt by the Sun and sand blasted by the strong coastal winds.

Passing down the coast, our puncture tally continues to rise, as we reach a record breaking 5 in 7 days. 

To break up the monotony of the coastal route, we wheel inland and head for the Cordillera Blancas, a range of 50 snow capped peaks all over 5700m, running north to south for 180 kms.  To get to these, we ride some stunning mountain roads, taking us high into and above the clouds.  In one day we climb from sea level, to over 4,500m on dirt roads, awe inspired by the sheer size, beauty and diversity of the Andes. 

Back on the coast, we pass through the heaving, smog filled insanity that is Lima and make our way to Nazca, site of the mysterious lines.  Even more mysterious, is the rather camp little fellow selling guide books at the observation tower in the middle of the desert.  When he found out Daisy was from England and from Yorkshire, he promptly scribbled down a thank you not for Emily Bronte and asked Daisy if she would deliver it to her house. 

“You do know you probably won’t get a reply from her…..”.

Up in the air, the full glory of the lines is revealed, showing etchings of various creatures including several birds, a monkey, a spaceman and a whole bunch of lines and pointy arrows.  Quite why and how the lines were built is still a mystery and many theories surround these pre-Inca etchings.  Once we land, I formulate my own theory of how the lines were created with a little help from the trusty stead.

Out of Nazca and finally we climb out of the desert and back into the Andes.  The air cools and we ride across the exposed grassy uplands of the Andes, passing flocks of Llamas and the smaller Alpacas (which both make very good jumpers and tasty stews).  The weather flips between stormy and sunny as we ride through rain and hail, thankfully missing the countless electrical storms that dot the horizon.

The further we get from the coast, the better Peru becomes.  We visit the grand city of Cuzco and inevitably end up at the Norton Rats Pub (a biker pub owned by Geoff the American).  We meet up with Helge and Mark again, and another biker from Colorado called Ryan. We spend a couple of nights with Kiwi Mike an ex-Rugby boy, with the looks of the Glastonbury bod Michael Eavis and the libido of Don Juan - great fun.  More beer, more banter and more games of pool on rickety tables.

From Cuzco, we ride the stunning Sacred Valley.  We visit the majesty that is Machu Picchu by train.  We ride south towards the enormous Lake Titicaca and boat across to see the Norfolk Broad like reed islands of Uros and the island of Taquile, with it’s Mediterranean micro-climate and UNESCO recognition.  Gutted that I can’t take my bike across to the island and rip it up through yet another import heritage site (Redwoods and Nazca so far – bring on Stonehenge…), I console myself with meeting two Brit physiotherapists, Gareth and Becky, who are returning from working in NZ via South America.  For such a solitary form of travel, we’re got no shortage of good people to talk to.

Finally we leave Peru.  After several weeks, far too many punctures, baking desert sun, freezing mountain passes, ancient Inca cities and crappy modern costal towns we head to Bolivia.  We leave behind a huge and varied country, filled with friendly, rude, fun loving, miserable, traditional, modern, rich and poor people.         

By: Daisy
Location: Peru part 2
Date: 7th March 2007

Machu Picchu – We hadn’t realised that the 4-day mountainous and perilous Inca Trail to MP was closed for ‘cleaning’ in February, so had to depart on the train {gutted ;-)} at Early O’clock. An aeon later we arrived at the ‘Old Mountain’, perched atop a lush mountain, surrounded by even more lush mountains, and there they were - the 500 year old ruins of the Inca’s, in a certain degenerative state so as to fill the ancient city with an air of mystery, making the imagination positively boil over. Or at least this is what I was doing as Mu was trying to kill himself trekking up Wayne (kid you not) Picchu, the famous mountain you always see as a backdrop to MP.

Head across the plains, narrowly avoiding 3 lightening storms, 26 mangy dogs trying to have our legs off and a motorized tuc-tuc driver called Elvis, to Lake Titicaca, highest lake on the planet at 3,810 metres. We stay in Puna by the lake – the hostel lady promises us parking which turns out to be in the centre of an Off-License (how awful). Puna is having its Carnaval which consists of an all-night parade of Andean music and dance as well as every townsman on a rampage squirting every other townsman with foam; there’s no way we can beat them so have to join them – a wet ‘n’ wild time is had by all!

From here we took a boat out to reach the mind boggling floating islands of Uros on Titicaca where native people have carved a living solely from the reeds which grow in the lake. This includes the actual islands being constructed from reeds, their homes, fuel, decorations, food and boats. I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like it in my life!

Another island treats us to a traditional display of song, music and dance and educated us in their traditional ways of life. Particularly interested to see all the chaps of the community knitting long nightcap-style hats that they wear with pride. The children run after you trying to give you mint as a gift and then sell you a bracelet once they have you under their spell. That night sees yet more Carnaval foam squirty action and pan pipe renditions of “El Condor Pasa”. Attempt an early night for the morning’s border crossing into Bolivia, though the festivities continue until the sun rises.

To summarise: Peru is a beautiful country with one of the most diverse landscapes you may ever see. desert at 9am, snow-capped mountains at 3pm. However, I think it’s the people that make a country and the people are generally very idle, manner less and a little ‘behind’ to tell you the truth. Still, makes us feel hardworking, polite and ‘forward’, so there’s a plus!

Llama/Alpaca count: one less since Mu got stuck into one on a plate with a portion of rice and a few carrots.

Continue on to Bolivia