Travel Log Week 5

Monday 31.7.00 La Paz After eating out economically last night we made the most of the hotel breakfast, scrambled egg for once, and set out to find the Banco de Credit which was an imposing building down in the centre of town, to see if the funds had arrived from the UK so we could afford lunch. After asking around various departments we found the right people who confirmed the funds were there and then it was relatively straight foward to collect the cash. We had to go round the corner to a money changer tho' as there was no bureau de change to get rid of our Chilean notes and change some $US into Bolivianos, strange how the system works. We then needed to email the UK and spent the next 2 hours walking around in the increasing heat looking for an Entel shop which have been easy to find elsewhere, but not in La Paz. We had walked for ages before we finally found one, up and down the narrow cobbled streets of the colonial area, which was jam packed with people and minibuses touting for business. They have guys leaning out of the side doors yelling prices and destinations, they seem to drive round and round the same few streets in a circuit, and it is mayhem with them constantly stopping and starting, picking up and dropping people, fighting for right of way with pedestrians, constantly beeping their horns. We got the latest reports off and picked up our news, many thanks again to you all, and decided to have lunch in a little side street restaurant which was also a bakery, very nice but totally different hygiene standards to Europe, still, no harm done so far. We hoped to do an oil change on the bikes here as a good break point as they had done nearly 4000 hard miles since their last one, so we went back to base for Paul to rest his leg while Adam and John would go and buy some good synthetic oil for the motors. Unfortunately on the way back, we found the "artisan" district and got buttonholed by a street vendor with various artefacts for sale, some of which we bought, and then John saw some hats he liked (surprise!) and bargained with the man for one. He could not decide which of two he preferred and it was 75 Bolivian for one, so he decided not to buy and walked on. Next thing, the man offered him both for 25 (£2.80), so it was a strange deal, quickly accepted! Adam found a shop selling all sorts of odd stuff and was particularly taken with a small stuffed Armadillo but with no real way of getting it home, had to pass it up! We eventually made it back, shopped out, and while Paul rested and wrote some mails, the others went in search of oil. We had stopped a guy on a bike earlier who had marked the shop on our map, but what looked like a few streets in fact turned out to be all uphill (very steep!) in the middle of the market area. We had thought the streets around the hotel were busy but this was just mad, shops took up all the pavement, so you have to walk in the road and there is a second wave of people who sit on the kerb and have stalls in front of them, and by the time the minibuses weave in and out, its' really, really busy. The streets seem to be somehow divided into sectors of all the same produce: 50 yards of shoes, 50 yards of clothes, 25 yards of tapes & CD's, 50 yards of assorted nuts and veg, 50 yards of fresh meat, 50 yards of alchohol, 4 plumbers all in a row, 6 flooring shops in a row. Yet in between were people who seemed to have just one huge sack of goods carried in on their backs, then laid out on a cloth: fresh flowers, leather goods, fresh cookies & breads, or just little wheeled carts with roasted peanuts, people cooking meat on calor gas rings, cocoa leaves in abundance, wheelbarrows full of popcorn, a button maker, or wonderful fresh fruit drinks, squeezed while you wait. John bought 2 slices of fresh pineapple for 10p and an ice cream for 7p and they tasted great. Many of these small stalls bizarrely also have a telephone on them for hire, goodness knows if they work or not! There was no oil shop where it was supposed to be and we were directed to another shop, 5 blocks away, which also proved impossible to find but this was the mechanical engineering area, shops full of disc cutters, compressors, light fittings and a rubber products shop, which smelt just like home to Adam. It was very reminiscent of the old Martin's Rubber front counter, drawers full of sink plugs, walking stick ends, car pedal rubbers and sundry bushes etc, even the same hardboard decor! The guy there pointed us even further up hill and we headed off in that direction, passing what appeared to be a voodoo stall, complete with dried chicken legs and some strange things we could only assume were dried Llama babies, very odd! This put us into the "metal fabricators" area, guys welding on the street making roof racks and shelving out of reinforcing wire, complete exhaust systemsetc. Then we were up into the "motor engineers" department, fixing cars on the pavements, changing tyres etc. By this time we had had enough and time was getting on but one more block and we found the store. The bad news was that all they had was 50 gallon drums of Bolivian engine oil, of indeterminate grade and specification, which we really did not think was safe to put into our nice new engines! So, wearily we walked back down hill to the hotel, now about a mile away to plan for tomorrow. We wanted to move out of La Paz up into Peru and decided that an early start would avoid most of the sightseers so we went out early for dinner in a Bolivian restaurant, serving local dishes with folk music which was quite a change from the Chinese of last night, and again checked the bikes on the way back. With a look over the city from the roof we had noticed that all the stall holders closed at 9.30 and cleared up their stuff, sweeping their patch of pavement carefully into the gutter, and then the civic garbage collectors came round and swept the streets, so bearing in mind the sheer volume of activity, it really is fairly clean. We had found the Bolivians to be very hard working people, all looking to get ahead but held back perhaps by years of political instability, and a landscape which is pretty extreme in places, and as we mentioned, a big gap between those who were really poor, and many of the people in the capital who were doing comparatively well. We looked forward to getting out into the countryside again tomorrow, as big cities are not restful places to be when you are used to wide open spaces as we are now!

The Crusaders at La Paz, Mt Illimani in the background

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Tuesday 1.8.00 La Paz to Puno (GPS S15.49.680/W069.59.588 alt 12,600 ft ) We went down early for breakfast, and while John & Paul got the bikes out of the yard, Adam tried unsuccessfully to email from a nearer Telefonica shop. We had planned to bring all the kit down in one lot then load up on the street as quickly as possible to get away without too much of a crowd forming. Once again good plan except there are so many people around, its impossible. In moments we had a large audience, of hotel guys and stall holders, plus the ever cruising taxi vans stopping for a look at the "motos". On the other hand, some were completely unmoved, like the guy behind Adam's bike, who seemed intent on including the Honda into his display of veg, mindless of the fact it would be pulling away in a few moments! Eventually it was leaving time and apart from finding yet again, despite initial assurances, Mastercard "No", we were off on the road, but easier said than done in La Paz. All the streets are one way and we had to do a block uphill to get on the right side of the dual carriageway up out of town, which gave the poor old clutches a fair bit of stick. The run up out of town was great, superb views of a unique city, with the snow covered mountains overlooking, and at the top a Peage again, plus a team of women litter picking. Then we were back in the slum area again, highlighting the difference in prosperity, and made our way out past the airport and those wrecked planes, till we saw a sign saying "Peru". Trouble was, as we have got used to in Bolivia, the signing is not good, and the next thing we knew, we were in a small town south of where we should have been. No worries, asking directions of various people, we navigated through the dirt streets to pick up the "major" road marked to get us up to where we should have been, via the cement factory and a spoil tip. It turned out to be quite a nice dirt road and after 15k we suddenly arrived in a nice town square, then immediately hit the new tarmac main road running along the south shores of Lake Titicaca, fortunately just after a Peage! This road was superb and new, great sweeping curves and bends,climbing up over a big hill you looked back at La Paz and the mountains, then forward at our first sight of the lake. The landscape got more fertile the nearer the lake we got, past the Inca ruins of Tiahuanaca, more beef cattle and arable fields, and strangely, seagulls and a weird white line painting machine which was straight out of Wacky Racers! After one more Military Check, it was the final run up to the Peruvian Border, now alongside the lake, a deep blue with snow clad mountains to the east, superb! However, it was no surprise to find just as we passed the sign which said Peru 3", the road pitched us off the tarmac and into the bushes for the last stretch to customs. We overtook a long line of waiting trucks, and sat waiting for the Customs guys to return from lunch (again !). No problem, we had a super freshly crushed fruit juice, and the Customs guys returned early, immediately cleared our paperwork and sent us on our way, really helpful, and thanks are due to them. Bolivia had been a total contrast to Argentina and Chile, much less prosperous, but dramatic scenery and hard working people; we will never forget Potosi or seeing Mt Sajama (6520m) from 100 miles away on the other side of the altiplano while riding up to La Paz, or indeed the run down into La Paz, and if the people get the stability they need the country will surely realise its vast potential. The Peruvian Border guys were initially a bit cautious but the letter Paul had got from their London Embassy soon did the trick and they were really helpful as well, in spite of us not filling the forms in right twice! We were soon on our way, after paying for our bikes "defumigation", which looked dangerous. We were running north up the shores of Lake Titicama. Immediately there were differences, the houses are mainly brick, and the land around the lake is fertile, many more beef cattle about, and the town signs, although like the Bolivian ones in that they are brick built, were all well painted. However, the diesel vehicles are incredibly badly adjusted and we have never seen so much smut chucked out, from the inevitable Toyota vans to knackered farm trucks, incredible! We rounded a headland, and there it was, several hundred feet below was the lake, stretching into the distance like a sea, waves crashing on the shore, and still with the mountains in the far distance, fantastic. We headed straight up the western shore for Puno, the next large town to stop for the night, with a brief stop for another Customs check, it was a quite breathtaking ride, warm sunlight, looking over the lake, nice road, wonderful. We rode into Puno not knowing quite what to expect, we'd checked the guide and there were a couple of ordinary Hotels, plus one just out of town on a private island. Riding through the town which again was very busy and once more making us feel the object of everyone's attention, we decided to have a look at the out of town one. As we rode round past the port, where the steamer featured in Michael Palin's series was moored, the other Hotel came into view, on a rocky outcrop overlooking the lake; it appeared just like something from a James Bond movie, a white rectangular building like nothing else anywhere, with long smoked glass windows, absolutely stunning position and presentation. We had to have a look and as we went through the gatehouse, we wondered if in fact it was a secret research station for some multinational, but no it was the right place, and after some negotiation on price, we decided to stop, as security was pretty much guaranteed, and to be honest, it was an absolutely unique place to be in, watching the sunset come down over the lake, it just had to be experienced. The sense of unreality continued as the mass of porters waited for us to unload the panniers, then carefully polished all the dust off before taking them up to our room. Ceasar the manager of Hotel "Libertador, Isla de Esteves, had kindly put us overlooking the lake, " you will like the view" he said, he was not wrong. We had to laugh though as the room was complete with a marble bathroom, monogrammed slippers and dressing gowns, and a waiter came in with fresh chocolates on the house, very nice too! We got out of our dusty riding gear which had caused a few odd looks in the foyer and had a look round after visiting the bar, it really is unique, what a wonderful place, but you still expected a wall to swivel around and Blofeld to come out stroking his cat! After a few beers and trying unsuccessfully to email home, after an excellent dinner, it was movie channel time for Paul & John, and snoring time for Adam, after a long day, but successfully across another border and in a new country.

The Crusaders cross into Peru, looking across Lake Titicaca to Nevada Ancohuma

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Wednesday 2.8.00 Puno to Restaurante El Milenio, (GPS S16.01.153/W070.50.968 alt 15,300ft) As promised the dawn was spectacular, the complete side of the room was glass, and you could lie in bed watching the sun come up over the lake, birds waking up and reed cutters and fishermen going out with first light, unforgettable. We were early down for breakfast but it was full of normal guests who were going out on excursions, so we had a coffee on the patio and waited for the crush to clear, and watched the steamer leave port, a great sight. She was built in England in the 1860's and carried up the mountain in pieces. These days she doesn't go out much except on charter, so we were lucky to see her on the move, apparently $25,000 a day to hire if you want that different function! The dining room had now cleared so we parked next to the buffet table and enjoyed the undivided attention of 10 waiters for an hour, got to make the most of it! While Paul retired for a lie down, Adam & John wrote cards which could now be sent, and watched humming birds flying up and down. It's the sort of place you could easily spend all day relaxing and we nearly did! However, we thought we ought to keep moving and while we very much wanted to visit Macchu Piccu it is a 3 day walk from Cusco, not possible by road, and while Cusco itself is apparently fascinating as the Inca capital, with mega architechture, we had been warned about security again as it is a tourist hotspot, plus the road north back to the pacific is dirt, by all accounts "poor" and we'd already seen some "good" roads! So it was time to load up and say farewell to what is surely one of the most unique spots in the world, and all the staff wanted a photo: Cesar had kindly put up the Union Jack in our honour but he apologised about a security failure, someone had written "Good Luck" in the dust on John's bike, one of the other guests we'd been chatting to we think and much appreciated! After photo's and a fond farewell to "Chichi" and his excellent staff it was on the road. We had decided to head 30 miles north to Juliaca, then turn west to the Pacific, passing over the western string of the Andes, past a volcano called "Misti" and the deepest gorge in the world, which sounded interesting. We were told that the middle section was 60 miles of "good" dirt road with tarmac either end, which sounded fine after our experiences getting to Potosi. We had started late but made good time north, negotiated Juliana which is full of rickshaw taxis powered by pedals, or cut down Honda CG125's, and headed west towards the mountains which felt odd after riding north for the last 2 weeks. The road was good although passing through the town bottle dump, and scenery across the Altipampa was great - lots of cattle, sheep and Llama herds, more hawks and finches. We saw some lovely electric green ones chasing a hawk away from their roost. We climbed up alongside a large river looking very like Scotland or Norway, had another Customs Check, then it was onto dirt again, but no bother, we were quite confident now and after all, it was a "good" road. Within 2 miles John's topbox had fallen off and the cobble surface was really rattling us about, but we were making steady progress. After 25 miles we were still going up and it was not looking quite so good, the road had deteriorated, although the scenery was wonderful, with fantastic lakes and grasses, we were not now quite in the mood to appreciate it! We stopped at a small adobe shop and bought some cokes; John got mugged into buying a Llama hair sling, which the lady demonstrated for us, nearly taking Paul's head off in the process. We pressed on, now the road resembled a motocross course, one section had whoops which really would not look out of place at Elsworth. Paul reckoned he doubled the first two, but John wimped out, saying the topbox could'nt take it! And still there were big 6 wheel Volvo truck coming along, plus big 40 seat coaches, incredible! As it started to get dark we realised something was amiss, there was no way it was 60 miles of dirt, we had already done that and we were still climbing, just then John's topbox did fall off again. While he and Adam were fixing it, Paul waited alone in the dark further up the road, an eerie experience, there was a rock nearby which looked like a troll, and he decided after 5 minutes to go back and look for the others! With thoughts about "the deepest gorge in the world" etc going through our minds, suddenly we came across a building in the middle of nowhere with some lights on, the El Milenio Restaurante, a two room establishment with gas light, and very welcoming it looked too. We explained to two very cold looking Carreteras Officers on duty with their Landcruiser parked outside what we were up to, and they said no, it was 150 km more like this, so that was it, we decided to stop for the night. Our new hosts said yes, no problem we could sleep on the floor, and when we went to move the bikes up to the front of the building, they actually opened the double front door up, and insisted we rode inside, moving the tables to make it easier, no security worries tonight then! They rearranged the tables leaving a place on the floor for us to sleep, found some sheepskins and a mattress and produced a fantastic chicken, rice & chips supper, just the job! It turned out that a pile of blankets in another corner were some more of the family sleeping, in spite of the younger ones playing the radio full blast, running off a truck battery. So, not quite the result we had planned for the day, but here we were, from the sublime to the ridicluous almost, but made to feel very welcome. On one extreme monogrammed slippers, on the other, your bike in your room, we weren't sure which was better, but both very welcome at the time!

Hotel Liberatador, Puno, Cesar, Eliana, Maria Pia, Ramiro, Maximo & Javier with the Cape Crusaders	Lake Titicaca, Steamer Yahati in the background
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Thursday 3.8.00 - La Mileno Restaurante, Confital, to Arequipa, (GPS S16.24.375/W071.31.196, alt 7850ft) The sleeping arrangements in the Restaurant were a little on the basic side. Victor and the girls had put us opposite the bikes, between some tables and their roadside sign which was in for the night, and we soon found out why. We settled down on the mattress, our 3 mats on top, for our highest nights sleep ever. Adam got the middle berth and nodded off nicely but Paul was next to the sign and woke up to see a pair of shoes just the other side and someone looking down at him. It turned out that all night long trucks were pulling up in little groups and suddenly mum would leap up from sleeping in her blankets behind the counter and they would rush about cooking up meals for the driving crews, who would stop for an hour then carry on. All was quiet for the next hour till another convoy arrived and everyone woke up and rushed about again! All the visitors had a look at the bikes, nicely on show in the room, and we heard lots of quiet conversations about "Inglesi" and "moto's". The family certainly do work hard and it really is miles from anywhere. The sky outside was stunning, high altitude and no backlight at all, and the Milky Way was again something else to see.

In the morning, we got up with the light and the family started making breakfast for us, rather embarrassingly before they did the Carreteras guys who had been outside all night waiting to check papers on the trucks passing. John asked Victor where the Banio (bathroom) was, he just smiled and pointed to the mountainside and wandered off uphill to collect water! We noticed that the windows had frosted up but it was actually on the inside! We moved the bikes out, rearranged the tables for breakfast and found the puppy had pooed under John's bike; We weren't sure what breakfast was but it turned out to be Llama steak, chips and rice, just the job, while the Carreteras had 2 bowls of potato soup each, followed by rice with a fried egg on top. After pic's Lublika borrowed the phrasebook and asked for "moisturiser". Fortunately John had kept a load from the Liberatador on Lake Titicaca and these were well recieved. After more farewells we hit the road confident of completing our trip across the Andes in good style and not far up the road we were rewarded with a fantastic view of "Misti" the volcano, in the middle of what looked like a moonscape of dust powder which the road just spread out on. John & Paul stuck to the road which got extremely rutted where the trucks had moved the clay around, they were casing out all the time, while Adam opted for the free-riding experience across the plain, miles of hard pack volcanic dust to ride on, great as long as you did'nt go head first into one of the occaisional dips! We pressed on and at last started to drop, coming around another mountain side to look down into a huge valley 500' below, onto a small farm, again with drystone walls and llama's.

Riding mile after mile we dropped a fair bit but then got out onto another big plain with saltflats and it was quite a thrill to see a large colony of Pink Flamingoes out in the middle of the lake against the backdrop of another volcano, Pichupichu (5669m).We stopped for pics and nearly got run down by a speeding coach: he'd seen us but didn't lift at all, going flat out and drifting it. The coach drivers seem the least considerate of the other road users - maybe they are on commission? At this point we came across a road grading team which initally we thought was good news, except that we soon found that all that had happened was they had graded the dust back over the stones making it really tricky to ride as you could not see which bits were hard pack and which were holes filled with dust and loose rocks. This was more grief for Paul's leg and we nearly had a couple of big off's andwe even got overtaken by a CG125 with 2 up on it! Oh well, wait till we get back to ashphalt! We thought we'd ridden out of the volcano zone, but suddenly we came over a rise and saw Chachani (6079m), a perfect volcano shape towering above us and we then came to the gorge. The road bulldozed around the very top of an almost sheer volcanic cliff which fell almost vertically for nearly 6000 feet. Adam had one hand on the bars filming as he came round the corner and before he realised how big the drop was, headed into a short tunnel cut through a bluff which turned out to have big rocks in as well. Having had to grab the bars with both hands he pulled over, only then looking down and taking in just how how far down it was!

Suitably impressed, we took pics and looked out over the plain towards Arequipa and wondered how many trucks went off the edge. There was a series of shrines by the tunnel so some unfortunates obviously have - barriers, no chance! Carrying on down the mountain we came across a big crucifix which had a beautifully made jacket fitted, showing coaches on it, presumably an offering from the drivers to give them safe passage. We could see why when after a few more corners we came across an accident, a coach had hit the side and a Volvo 6 wheeler had gone off the edge; He was really lucky though, he'd lodged against a rock outcrop about 20' down, though the cab was crushed pretty well, at least he had'nt rolled it to the bottom! A big truck was trying to winch it back up with another truck pulling a wire running round a wheel stuck into the road on a steel post. They stopped to let us through which was good of them as there was a big queue of trucks and buses tailed back and it was going to be a while. The road switchbacked down, now cut out of volcanic ash and dust which was incredibly fine white powder and reacts just like water to ride on. It covers the stones and you can't feel it at all or see what you are riding over, so more careful going, and suddenly those smooth lines which always seem to be on the outside of the bends beside the drop did not seem quite so tempting! We kept looking back at the truck over the edge, it looked just like a dinky toy now and you really got the perspective on how big these mountains actually are! After passing through a herd of giant Llama's we were virtually down and could breathe more easily, literally! We finally got to a Police checkpoint and realised on the other side of the chain was Tarmac, at last! We checked through again and thanks to the letters received lots of good wishes and sped off down the road towards the city, but all the time Chachani loomed over us, and behind, the peak of Pichpichu was a wonderful white snow mixed with yellow sulphur powder, spectacular! We got into the city which is a big one and started fighting our way through the traffic, again just beep and keep going, very few traffic lights, but quite a few cops about directing things. By chance we came across the Hotel Santa Maria, which had secure parking and very helpful staff, and decided that would do nicely as a place to recover and plan the next stage of the trip.

So, we have now done over 750 miles on dirt roads which vary from the smooth hardpack in Tierra del Fuego to the genuinely scary Bolivian ones around Potosi. We cannot really describe just how difficult some of these roads are - On a proper enduro bike or even the XRV's unloaded with motocross tyres you could ride them just fine, but add in the extra luggage and the stress on the bikes goes up dramatically. As experienced offroad riders ourselves, we tried to analyse why it feels so different to anything else we have ridden and we have not been able to do the speeds we expected at times. The vibration is incredible and of course, unlike a competition event, risking the occaisional crash is just not an option, miles from anywhere and with miles to go. This means that for hours on end you can only concentrate on the 20' immediately in front of you, trying to pick the smoothest line with least puncture risk, or on mountain sides, just staying well away from the edges! Then add in oncoming traffic with their dust clouds, dogs attacking, goats and Llama's crossing, and it all adds up to very demanding conditions, certainly far tougher than we anticipated even with our previous offroad experience. Still, we have made it through this section now, amazingly without any breakages, though John's topbox has now fallen off 5 times, everything else is still OK, the panniers and mounts still fine, the electronic kit still working, and hopefully everything in place to run up the Pan American highway at near sea level for a while until we get to Ecuador, where we are now looking into options to avoid Columbia, which we now hear is suffering from a series of strikes, to add to the already high risk factor! So, after an excellent Pacific seafood supper it was off to CineChannel for John & Paul again and we looked foward to some smooth riding for the next few weeks, and warmer temperatures to come.

Victor, El Milenio Restaurante, Peru

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Friday 4.8.00 Arequipa, Peru We had the breakfast "Americano" today, scrambled egg, and then tried to decide what to do next. We had not been able to mail from Lake Titicaca, despite many attempts, so that was a priority, and we also still owed the bikes their oil change, so John & Paul went off to find a bike shop while Adam tried to get a phone line sorted in the hotel to email out with. Despite all the staff pitching in, we kept getting "number does not exist" or "this call is barred" on all the lines we tried, and Terra the local provider could not seem to help either. Meanwhile, when he understood what we wanted to do, the owner of the bike shop had jumped on a bike with another customer, and they reappeared a little later with a box of Castrol Magnatec fully synthetic, made in England, exactly what we wanted, though it was expensive. John & Paul returned with the oil and set about changing all 3 bikes, one of the hotel guys was very helpful and got some old ice-cream cartons to drain into, and didn't seem to mind the spills on the floor. We also rechecked the tyres again, found a 1" long nail in Adam's rear tyre and decided to pull it out, and so far it is still OK, the nail seemed to be on an angle which maybe saved us this time round? After cleaning oiling the chains as well, they were all ready to roll again. No luck after several hours with the email connection, so we decided to visit the town centre and find a phone shop, which was easier said than done. Lots of Internet cafe's etc, but they only work on local calls, and when we did find it, the Telfonica shop was all old phones hard wired, so no joy there either. If only the mobile worked here! We had a good seafood lunch, rounded off by a stop in a cake shop for tea, in the old part of town; due to earthquake damage in the 18th century there are not many old buildings left, but those that still stand are really nice, made of blocks cut out of a white volcanic rock, very beautiful, with a heavy Spanish colonial feel. The town is really busy with lots going on, we counted 3 different people walking by with big cake boxes for some reason, and got a taxi back to see how local people drive, from a cramped position in the back of the tiny Daewoo Yellow Cab, of which there are hundreds around. You only have to stop for a moment on the pavement and 3 pull up and expect you to jump in! So, apart from the lack of sucess with the mail, a good days work, and we were ready to move on up the coast towards Lima in the morning; after dinner with Manuel on duty, the movie was Ghost, and Firelight, which had Paul gripped from beginning to end, these two are really getting into TV movies big time, Paul had to call reception for hankies to be sent up for John during Ghost!

Saturday 5.8.00 Arequipa to Chala, Peru ( GPS to follow, Paul's gone to sleep! ) ( and John is snoring too! ) ( GPS S15.51.785/ W074.14.859 alt 20ft ) Having said Farwell to the night staff last evening, it was an early breakfast then load up and round the front for a photo call with Marcela and the day staff, who had looked us very well, we had felt relaxed at the Hotel Santa Maria, good people and discrete barbed wire fences all round was a good combination! We had directions for getting to the Pan American Highway, out past the beer factory, and found it without trouble. Straight away it was obviously very different to the high Andes we had been used to, running out of the city the mountainsides were bare rock, but there are lots of little level fields on slopes everywhere possible, which are irrigated and grow all sorts of things, and when you reach a valley bottom, all sorts of crops are under production, hence the variety of food we had seen in the markets. We were soon impressed with the quality of the road, smooth, wide tarmac, and the bikes were running beautifully, on their new oil and at near sea level, the tickover settings had come back to normal, and they had their usual "go" back again, so smooth and a delight to be out on open road again! As we rode on, we were more and more impressed with the road, we were running down to the Pacific coast through the foothills of the Andes, still very big mountains in their own right, and the road ran across sandy desert plains then climbed the next range in a series of wide switchback bends, on the bikes it was a blast cutting around the trucks who were grinding up in 1st gear, or down in 2nd, and still loads of advertising walls, painted rocks, and stones laid out with various messages, often girls names it seems! We then ran along across the plain, long straight roads with a strong wind off the sea blowing columns of sand dunes across the plain, and over the road at times, and every now and again we dropped down into huge river valleys, and where there was water, the desert really blossoms. The valley bottoms were heavily farmed, maize, vegetables of all sorts, bananas and oranges etc, and when we got up on top again, there were massive irrigation schemes running water alongside the road, on the left desert still, on the right big fields and crops, and occasionally beef herds, very odd. We were gradually dropping all the time, and went through another Peage, in Peru much to our relief they don't charge for bikes which makes our life a lot easier, and all of a sudden we were in a sandstorm, visibility right down and headlights on, fine powder all over the place, billowing up behind the screens, and it was continuous for about 30 miles until we got behind the next mountain range, quite a novel experience. As we came back out on the plain, another Peage, then suddenly we were dropping fast across more desert, then there it was, the Pacific Ocean, and we had crossed the continent! We dropped down to the beach at Camana, the road ran between the dunes and a huge sand cliff, and on the level ground between the road and the sea were loads of Chicken rearing sheds, like 10km in one go! We pulled over at a beach restaurant for coffee, the staff were surprised to see someone on a "cold" day, but to us it was great, listening to the waves coming in, and when they found out where we had come from, they declined to charge, which was good of them and we had the benefit of playing with their parrot which knew a fair bit of English. The sky was now overcast which was a shame, but the road was amazing, we climbed back off the beach, and then the road was cut into the sides of cliffs overlooking the sea, always with a dead smooth surface, but constantly changing bends and climbs/drops, and it was like a continuous geology lesson, each bend brought a different kind of rock, sand, or boulder layer, you could spend ages examining just on one small section. Occasionally there were huge sand dunes, the road being cut along the front of one which must have been 500' high, and it needs constant maintenance to keep it clear. We pulled over on a headland to watch birds hanging in the updraughts, not only were there Eagles etc, but down on the sea big flocks of Pelicans, Cormorants and waders, which roost on outcrops just offshore, again, we could have watched all day, but time to move on, and we were looking for somewhere to stop. There were not many communities around apart from Fish Oil factories, and after refuelling at a very small village, we finally found a reasonable place to stop at Chala, just as well as there was nothing for the next 100km. The "Hotel de Surf" looked like a hospital inside, green gloss paint and bare wood floors, but at least it had a yard for the bikes, and the phone instantly accepted our emails, so we were able to get back in touch, from the middle of nowhere, weird or what! There was one kid on duty who seemed to have to do everything, and when he reappeared with Tea, he'd got a bow tie on for the evening session. No food however, so we went for a walk and found that all the houses opened out onto the street, and were mainly wood, again pretty timeless with oil lights and two up two down, some with balconies over the street too. The only restaurant in town did not open till 8.30, and when it did, there was not a huge choice, Paul & Adam fancied a glass of wine from the reluctant waiter, and they offered us a "Tourist" bottle at 90 Sols (US$30!), so the 10 Sol one had to do, it turned out to be fizzy, but went down OK when mixed up with Sprite?! Back to the Hotel for coffee, or hot water served with the can of Nescafe to help yourself, we could not watch TV as there were only 2 channels, both spanish gameshows, neither of which we could understand, but it at least it did not matter when you hopped channels, you could pick it up again right away!

Hotel Santa Maria, Arequipa, Marcela, Avin, Manuel, Cesar & Eric

Click on photo for larger image

Sunday 6.8.00 Chala to Ica (GPS to follow, Paul asleep again !) ( Nazca was GPS S14.51.171/W074.57.622 ) We got up early, and the breakfast was OK, but to our amazement suddenly a coach turned up, and the place was instantly full of tourists, wanting tea & coffee, and the single handed lad was running around like a long dog. No sooner had one lot left, than another lot rolled up, by which time we had gone up to the balcony to take a pic of Paul to email home for Julie's birthday which is today. They'd spoken on the phone first thing, but he had a special message for her and the lads, hope you could read it! Just then we noticed a couple of Sealions cruising along the shoreline just off the breakers, and we went down to the rocky outcrop to look at them, and some Grey Seals a bit further out, again, a great experience. We loaded up, and after putting a new rear bulb in John's bike ( it had gone as a result of the last time the topbox fell off, the box had got picked up by the back tyre and jammed under the number plate, a bit messy ) we were ready to roll, but then found Paul's indicator fuse had blown, it soon became obvious that the reason the heated grips had stopped working was that the wires had chafed out of one of the block connectors, and now it had shorted out. After a suitable repair with Duct Tape, everything worked again, including the grips, and we got away. The road was similar to yesterday to start with, running along the coast, cut along more cliffs and tunnels with more returns around the headlands, fantastic again, we kept thinking how it would be to run a Sports bike along this road, something else on an R1. The big Twins were great however, at last we could use the sides of the tyres as well as the middles, and those bikes do handle well fully loaded; it was tempting to unload for a moment and have a blast, but we still have a long way to go! The road climbed back up onto a whole series of raised beaches, again fantastic geology, and loads of questions about how and why the structures have evolved, fascinating but a bit beyond our memories of school lessons. The plain opened out into another series of dunes and mountains, the sand blowing from behind now as we moved inland to Nazca, site of the famous Lines, and we had spoken to a family yesterday from Arequipa, who had just been for their first visit. As luck would have it, the first thing you come to is the Airfield, and we were instantly surrounded by kids selling postcards, hats and T-Shirts, quickly followed by people selling plane rides. There were 12 Cessna's lined up and going round, and for US$45, John and Adam decided to have a go, though Paul reckoned he'd had enough of small planes when his Mum was doing some flying...... After a pleasant wait, luckily by now the haze had cleared, it was into the Cessna and off, up to 500' and round the circuit, the pilot circling round each pattern and pointing the wing down at it; some features such as the Hummingbird, Condor and particularly the Monkey looked as if they could have been marked out, but we both felt that the lines themselves, some kilometres long and crossing over hills without any deviation, were in fact far more impressive. Although the pilot did not make much of that aspect, we felt they were the highlight, and very strange, some actually disappear straight off the side of the plateau, and it was certainly the way to see them. We got down again amid general relief, we were not sure if the toolbox beside the plane had been for show, or to inspire confidence in the maintenance programme, you don't get that at Heathrow, and we set off to see the lines at ground level. Paul climbed up onto of the small hills, and while you could see some of the lines from there, it is not obvious what they are, and makes it even more astounding. The plain itself is odd, huge, almost dead flat yet covered with reddish sharp stones, whereas all the other plains we'd seen have rounded yellow sand and stones, and these red stones are cleared away to form the lines themselves. So, an experience we never thought we'd have, and we were not sure what conclusions to draw, though certainly quite mysterious. We set off towards the next big town, Ica, some 100km away, hoping to find a stop on the way, but after crossing a 20km dead straight road over the desert, it became obvious there would not be much, and we stuck at it, getting there in the early evening dark. The town was total mayhem pedal rickshaws, tricycle Vespa taxis, little Daewoo taxis, minibuses and busses all leaning on their horns all the time, we kept stopping as we thought we were beeping each other! We could not find any safe looking Hostels, then pulled up outside the "Christian Hotel" which had grilles across the frontage, but the guy said yes no problem, and we were in. He told us to ride the bikes through the foyer, and into the back room, which we did with the greatest of pleasure, despite Adam taking a lump out of the wall with a pannier, bizarre but most welcome! We went out for a bite and could not find anything except a Pizza bar, and with a roadside seat the noise was incredible, TV flat out on one wall, Stereo flat out on the other, and a constant beeping and warbling of taxis going by, if you stand still for a moment 3 taxis pull up, all beeping at you, it is crazy! We literally could not have a conversation, or understand the waitress, but it was certainly different. We could only assume the hooters have developed into a kind of primitive language, it is that noisy. Add to this the street vendors running PA speakers off truck batteries to advertise their wares, and it is definitely sales by "volume" that wins! We just had to take a Vespa taxi back they are so crazy, which was a scream, it would be great to run one in England, but an MOT would be out of the question, then it was off to bed, reassured to see that the night porter was asleep on a camp bed laid out in front of the bikes, total security there we hoped.

Link to Next Update Week 6