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21st
April 2009 Huanuco to Trujillo
We thought that Good Friday was the end of the
Easter enactments, however about 2am, in the early hours of Easter Sunday, we were awoken with what sounded like gunshots
in the small town of La Union. Bleary
eyed, I peeked out of the window to see a large candle lit procession,
carrying a statue of Jesus lit up with neon lighting which was making its way down our street. Fireworks
and a brass band announced to the whole village that Jesus had arisen. To
make sure that everyone was aware of this good news, the villagers then
proceeded to knock loudly on each other’s doors whilst the priest prayed
through a megaphone. The procession continued around the whole village
until sunrise and we departed on our bikes muttering about our interrupted
sleep.
We left La Union in the rain and on poor roads that had
turned to mush-the rainy season has definitely lingered longer this year.
In many parts, streams of water cascaded down the mountainside and over
onto the road.
I had been dreading our highest pass, which stood
in our way of reaching Huaraz. Standing at 4730m
it sounded like an imposing climb and due to our early morning Easter
Sunday entertainment, I wasn’t in a fantastic mood for the days climb,
especially when the road that we had been told was tarmac turned into a
muddy mess. Thankfully for Dave, our second breakfast pulled me out of my
fear and the pass wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. We climbed up a series
of steady tarmac switchbacks and once at the top, the scenery (and
altitude!) took our breath away, leaving me somewhat emotional.
We met a number of road workers at the top of the
pass, who were stationed to work on the road from 7am until 6pm. I couldn’t
imagine what it must have been like working up at such high altitude and
standing around in those cold conditions. We didn’t linger too long as it
was freezing at the top and we looked forward to our downhill descent and
hopefully find a warm place to stop for the night.
As we flew down the switchbacks, the clouds parted
and we were treated to views of the snow caps, even at such high altitudes
we could make out people living in small, round, stone houses and scraping
a living tending their sheep and alpacas. We saw young children of 5 and 6
years old on their own bringing their animals back to their corrals.
Further down the valley, we found a restaurant
which offered us a bed for the night and once again no sleep ensued as we
had to endure listening to excruciatingly painful Peruvian music throughout
the night. No matter who the artist is, the songs
always have the cheap synthesizer sound of the 80s and the theme never
deviates from man cheats on woman, man leaves and so woman drinks to forget
her man, I will try and upload a sample soon!
More rain and hail stones ensued as we made our
way to Huaraz, the trekking capital of Peru
and starting point to explore the incredible Cordillera Blanca. Our time in
Huaraz was still somewhat wet, so we were content
just to sip coffee in Café Andino, relax in the hot springs or gaze at
the mountains.
The weather cleared up as soon as we departed Huaraz and we had four fantastic days cycling towards Trujillo. The scenery
leaving Huaraz was beautiful with views over to Peru’s
tallest peaks which stand around 6700m. It was one of those experiences
where you felt truly alive and Dave and I contemplated whether we could
live in this valley in the future, with cycling, trekking, skiing and
climbing opportunities on the doorstep.
The scenery continued to impress as we entered Cañon del Pato, a narrow and
dramatic gorge with 33 tunnels cutting through the mountains from 2000m to
sea level.
Having not seen any cyclists since our ride into Cusco it was a welcome surprise to meet about seven
different cyclists who had just left the famous Casa de Ciclistas,
run by Lucho in Trujillo. The Casa de Ciclistas
is a haven and retreat for bicycle tourers and Lucho welcomes anyone into his house to stay for as
long as they like. It is really inspiring to read all the entries in his
guest books which date back to 1985 and amazing to think that he has hosted
over 1100 cyclists.
As luck would have it, we finally met up with Tom
and Dave www.bikingsouthamerica.com,
a couple of English guys who left at a similar time to us- it was
interesting to compare stories about the different routes we have both
taken. We were also inspired to meet the boys from www.ridingthespine.com – some
cool, hard core American cyclists who have been on the road since 2006,
riding from Alaska to Ushuaia on as many mountain dirt roads as they can,
they even managed to kayak the Darien Gap (Panama to Colombia). There is
also a German couple who we had heard about from the cycling grapevine.
They have been on the road for eight years and for the past four years they
have cycled with their dog Rambo. www.grenzenlos.ath.cx.
For Dave and I reaching Trujillo has been
quite special as this is the place where we first conceived the idea of
cycle touring together seven years ago and we can’t believe that we are now
here!
10th
April 2009
Ayacuco to Huanuco
We loved the
ride out of Ayacucho, with its valleys
reminiscent of the Mediterranean with
quite barren, rocky scenery dotted with cacti and prickly pears.
We were
joined by a mountain biker from Huanta who
accompanied us back to his home town and we had an enjoyable hour or two
sitting in the plaza eating our lunch. People were so friendly towards us
and we chatted to a number of people, from shoe shine boys who told us that
they earned about one pound a day to three primary schools teachers, all of
whom tried to get us to stay to watch the Easter festivities that were
starting that day. However, the day was still young and we wanted to press
on.
Out of Huanta, the scenery changed once again and we could
almost believe that we were in a Wild West film. We half expected to see
John Wayne ride out to join us on his horse through the canyon. We followed
a river, past donkeys, goats and mules towards the town of Mayocc.
We were pleasantly surprised when a bus full of people stopped to chat to
us. A tiny old woman in traditional dress passed us some fruit to eat
through the window. We can’t remember the name of it, but it was a cross
between a citrus fruit and a passion fruit and she took the time to show us
how to peel and eat it.
The
villagers of Mayocc greeted us warmly and took us
to the only hostel in the village. We spent the night chatting to a
traveling salesman who roamed Peru
and Ecuador
in his white VW beetle and regaled us with his stories.
Unfortunately,
the next day disaster struck. Just as I was about to reach the brow of a
hill, my chain and gears locked. Luckily I managed to unclip from my pedals
without falling off, but as I looked down I noticed that not only had my
chain snapped, but my gear hanger had completely broken in half, leaving my
derailleur tangled up inside my now, slightly bent spokes. There was
nothing for it but to hitch a lift to the next big town and pray that they
could fix it. Dave informed me that we might have to wait around Huancayo for a while as gear hangers are unique to
particular bike companies and, if we couldn’t get a spare one or one made
up, we would have to get one imported. The problem was that it was also
coming up to Easter and we didn’t know if places would be open.
We weren’t
particularly impressed with Huancayo which was a
busy industrial town. However, it did have two redeeming features. The
first was that there were an abundance of cake shops which pleased Dave no
end. The second was that we came across a whole street mending and knocking
out fake branded bikes. Thankfully I was able to buy a new Shimano
derailleur (for twenty pounds) and although we found a similar gear hanger,
it wasn’t a perfect fit. Luck was upon us as we were told of Cesar, a metal
artist who was a bike fanatic and could make perfectly matched gear
hangers.
Dave and I
paid Cesar a visit. We felt bad that we had asked him to work on Sunday as
he had planned to spend time with his children, however he said that he
would happily try and make a new hanger for me (for ten pounds) and invited
us to watch him work and have a chat about bikes. It was incredible to
watch him work, not only was he meticulous in his trade but within four
hours, we had made a friend and I had an exact replica Scott gear hanger
and was back ready to cycle the next day. He proudly showed us his bikes
that he had made for his children and he has also made his own aluminum
bike from scratch which we were impressed with. We were so grateful we took
the whole family out for dinner!
Finally we
were back on a roll cycling, from Huancayo we
climbed up again and cycled 125km to La Oroya. La
Oroya, a mining town, has to be the ugliest town
we have come across in Peru.
Piles of black tar like substance cluttered the views and heavy machinery
lined the outskirts of the seedy town. Despite this, we checked into Sol Y
Luna hostel and were very pleased to find that we had the best shower we
have had since arriving in South America-hot, powerful and lots of it!
From La Oroya,
we passed a few Andean towns that grow and celebrate the Maca, a beetroot like substance which is apparently the
best natural aphrodisiac. We were amazed to see a surreal Salvador Dali like
structure celebrating the Maca in one
non-descript town and sought out where we could try the Maca.
We had
another great experience in the town of Carhuamayo. As
we entered the town looking for a hostel, a restaurant owner named Adrian flagged us down
and invited us for tea and a rest in his restaurant. It turned out that he
was a motorbike fanatic (he had nine bikes plus a tuc
tuc) and had a basic room he would let us have
one pound each- bargain. Adrian
completely looked after us, showing us how to prepare and cook Pachamanca, which is the traditional Inca style of
cooking using stones to cook meat, potatoes, corn and beans. Naturally we
enjoyed tasting it as well.
NB for other cycle tourers,
Adrian said he would welcome other cyclists. His address is Pachamacas, Las Canastas, Av. Union No. 1068, Carhuamayo.
After cycling up to 4380m at Cerro del Pasco, we
enjoyed a 90km downhill section, even though it rained and hailed on us
most of the time and 50km of it was in a terrible condition of potholes, cracked
tarmac and the occasional landslide-the downhill to 1910m was delicious! It
brought us out to Huanuco and we had heard that
we were in time for the Semana Santa (Easter)
procession.
Many of the towns in Peru celebrate Easter with
processions during the Easter Week. Actors dress up and act out the Easter
story, it culminates in the arrest, trial and crucifixion of Jesus on
Easter Friday. From 10am in the morning until 4pm in the afternoon, Dave
and I followed the very lifelike procession. Hundreds of people were
dressed up to play their biblical parts and a Frenchman was playing the
part of Jesus. We watched as they acted out the arrest and dragged him
through the streets, whipping him. He was then taken to the central plaza
where the entire town gathered to watch his trial. Then he and the two
other criminals were given their crosses and were made to walk up the
nearby mountainside where they were crucified on the cross (their hands
were bound as opposed to nailed).
Watching the whole story play out was quite
emotional because it was so lifelike and at the same time is was also strange to watch all the town folk watch the
crucifixion whilst having picnics and eating ice-cream. It seemed that not
only was the crucifixion a spectacle, but as the only gringos in the town,
we received quite a lot of attention too, with many photos being taken of
us and comments such as, “Are they gringos?” “Are you related to Jesus-the
actor?” We will put the photos up shortly.
7th
April 2009
Cusco to Abancay
We were quite sad to leave Cusco
and had to drag ourselves away. It is the type of place that sucks you in
and lulls you into a comfortable routine of wandering around the narrow
streets, trying out the huge number of cafes and restaurants or sipping a pisco sour or two in the evenings. It is the type of
place that quickly drains the cycling funds!
We stopped in the square with our bikes for one last look and were
surprised to see Eamon, an Irish motorcyclist we
had met in Los Alerces National Park in Argentina. So we had a quick
catch up with him before saying our final goodbye to Cusco.
We had quite a steep climb out of Cusco, but were kept company by two
teenage boys who challenged Dave to a race to the top (Dave won this
time!). It turned out that they had the same bikes as us- a Scott and a
Specialized. The boys tried to swap
their bikes with us and we later learned that they had just put the
branding stickers onto their mountain bikes, to make them look more
attractive!
Both of us were somewhat apprehensive about the next few weeks
cycling because we had chosen to cycle through the mountainous region of Peru, from Cusco to Abancay
and then onwards to Ayacucho and Huancayo. We had been forewarned by Tom and Dave of www.bikingsouthamerica.co.uk
of four 2000m monster climbs and descents, most
of which would be on single lane gravel roads. All we could do was keep our
fingers crossed that we wouldn´t experience too
much rain.
We had a short steady climb to our first pass, about 50km out of Cusco and once over the
3715m pass we were taken aback by dramatic views of the valley, 1500m below
us. It was beautiful. Mist rose from the valley and every inch of the land
seemed to be cultivated, no matter how high or how steep the mountain sides
were.
We wrapped up warm, ready for our 2000m descent (on tarmac) and had
an exhilarating ride, careering around hair pin bends. The descent just
kept on going for at least 30km. The road was insane, twisting and turning
back on itself and to add a little extra excitement we dodged and weaved
our way around barking dogs. It was great fun!
We stopped at the little village
of Limatambo
in order to save a little downhill for the following day. It seems that
everything is exaggerated through the Andes-
and we were in for a mammoth uphill climb from 1800m back up to 4000m. It was quite daunting, but we took the
winding uphill slowly, admiring the awesome scenery. I kept imagining the
Incas working and travelling through this region
or retreating from the Spanish. Today in the lower areas of the valley, the
climate is quite tropical and mangoes, papayas, avocados and oranges
flourish. In the upper regions, corn, quinoa, beans and potatoes are grown.
As we continued to climb we noticed that a lot of the women working
in the fields would stop and wave and then laugh at us, pointing high above
our heads to indicate the pass we would have to reach. It did wonders for
our moral!
We had planned to quietly camp beside the Inca ruins of Saihuite, 10km to the top of the pass. However our
cover was blown as a local carnival was just winding up and we quickly
became the centre of attention with 20 children following us and asking us
questions as we made our way to the ruins.
With an impending storm, drunk locals and inquisitive children, we
were offered a
barn to camp in by Pancho –keeper
of the ruins. We were thankful for a roof over our heads and enjoyed
watching an electrical storm pass behind the ruins.
NB for other cyclists, Pancho said he would welcome people to camp beside his
house or in his barn, for a small donation. He also has a little shop that
sells basic supplies and there is a spring nearby.
We climbed back up to 4000m the following morning and looked forward
to some 2000m dare-devil downhill to Abancay. The
early morning fog meant that we had limited visibility as we careered
around the bends-it was great!
Abancay hosted us for our rest
day and we enjoyed watching the Peru
v Chile
qualifying match for the World Cup.
Abancay to Andahuaylas
As we left Abancay we could make out our
next 2000m uphill climb – a gravel road zig-zagged
up across the mountain. It is really de-motivating to see how high you have
to climb, especially when the road disappears up into the clouds. There was
nothing we could do, except take it slowly. Despite the climb, the scenery
was incredible and we enjoyed watching Abancay
get smaller and smaller, the higher we climbed.
We stopped in one small village and were given an avocado to eat and
invited to sit with two women who were sorting out beans to sell to Lima (for 5 pence a
kilo). They found it hilarious that we had chosen to travel by bicycle and
that we had chosen to cycle up the mammoth pass. They let me take a
photograph of them. Often on our journey, we have found that for the most
part, the locals don’t like having their photograph taken because they
think that we will sell them for a profit back in our own country. We
explained that it was for our memories and we promised to send them a copy,
to which they again laughed as they didn’t have any postmen, but we said
that we would get someone to drop it off via a car or bus.
NB. Notes to other
cyclists. There are two roads to Andahuaylas from Abancay. We were advised to take the top road with the
pass as it has a wider road and there is slightly more traffic going past
if there are any problems. There are little houses on the way up to the
pass and over the pass there are places to camp. Once over the pass there
are also streams. We were told this is the safer route. The locals will
tell you that the lower road has more villages along the way and that is isn’t so high- however be warned-you will have to
climb two mountain passes instead and it is longer.
On our way up to the pass, the rain began to pour and the road
turned to mush making the going very slow. Thankfully a truck driver
offered us a lift. During the lift,
the truck received a puncture and so Dave helped him to change the tyre, for which the driver was thankful for because it
was a new truck and this was the first time the driver had had to change
the tyre and dropped us off in Andahuaylas.
Andahuaylas as a town isn’t much
to shout about, however we had heard about a French NGO called Munay Wasi, who have set up a number of projects from education
initiatives to health assistance. We were interested to learn more about it
so decided to go and visit it. We were very lucky as the French founder,
Monique was over on a yearly visit, so we had the opportunity to meet her
and have a tour of the centre. www.munay.eu
NB. For other cyclists
you can stay at the centre for a small donation.
Whilst we were there Monique introduced us to some farmers from the Inkahuasi valley who have set
up a co-operative and are growing organic coffee and honey, we enjoyed
learning a little more about their business and they are looking for
opportunities to export abroad.
Andahuaylas to Chincheros
We left Andahuaylas sporting our new one
pound hair cuts and had a really enjoyable cycle back up to 4000m-yes we
actually enjoyed it! Cycling through the villages in this area has been a
great experience as we have found everyone to be really friendly. We
frequently stopped to chat to people. Often the conversation was whether we
could send over metal detectors to them as the roads we were cycling on
used to be both Inca and Spanish trading routes. Apparently, traders used
to carry their treasure on mules, however if the mule died, the traders
would have to bury their treasure with the mules as they had no way of
transporting it. Many of the villagers guaranteed us that if we went into
business with them they could show us the areas where treasure was waiting to be
re-discovered.
In another village, my cycling days nearly came to an end as Dave
was offered the opportunity to swap me for two Peruvian women to take back
to England
and in return due to my “strong” cycling legs, I could stay and work in the
fields. I was a little worried at how long it took Dave to decline the
offer!
Just as we neared the pass and were about to set up camp, a truck
driver stopped and demanded that we get into his truck to be taken to the
next village. We assured him that we had warm clothes, food and a tent, however he was not to be swayed and started to
drag our bikes into the back of the truck. He refused to leave until we
agreed to go with him, saying that God would not forgive him if he let us
sleep up at the pass as it wasn’t safe-we were sure to be robbed.
As we didn’t want him to get on the wrong side of God, we clambered
in and he delivered us to Chincheros (apparently Uripa wasn’t a place for us to stay in). He delivered
us to a hostel with a big smile and thumbs up and made sure we were booked
into it and had a working TV to watch Brazil v Peru. I think he thought we
might sneak off and camp in the countryside.
Chincheros to Ayacucho
We left Chincheros in the rain but still
managed to enjoy a further downhill section, despite it being very muddy.
We descended back down to 2000m or so, stopping along the way to chat to many of the farmers and children.
Being robbed at gun point was a theme that kept coming up.
Throughout our journey we have got used to people giving us warnings; from UK people warned us about the people in South America. In Argentina, we were warned to
watch out for the Chileans. The Chileans warned us to be careful of the Northern Chileans. The Northern Chileans warned us of
robbers in Bolivia and
the Bolivians warned us to be careful in Peru. I wonder why we are so
suspicious of other people?
However, what was different was that we kept getting specific advice
not to cycle between Orcos and Ayachucho as apparently the road is quite dangerous at
the moment, particularly at night and especially up at the passes
(apparently the area has been prone to drug running). We had met quite a
few locals that had been mugged within the last few weeks and everyone
urged us to take the bus between that section. We didn’t
really want to take the bus, but decided that it was better to be safe than
sorry.
The bus journey itself was an experience, it was a roller coaster
ride on a single lane gravel road that twisted and turned up the mountain
side. If that wasn’t excitement enough, the driver had a passion for speed
and decided to race the bus in front and did his best to get ahead of him.
My knuckles were white as I grabbed the seat in front in fear, it didn’t
help that a horror film was being shown and every hairpin bend was
accompanied by piercing screams from the film. Whilst I occupied myself
praying for a safe journey, Dave got to know most of the people on the bus,
who were interested to hear why two Gringos were on bikes in the middle of
the mountains.
We spent the
night in Ayacucho and enjoyed walking around the
plaza which was quite similar to Cusco,
without all the gringos and tourist trades. The appeal for many people is
to visit some of the 33 churches built within the town. Semana
Santa, or Easter is the main appeal in Ayacucho
as it is host to the most elaborate processions and celebrations. However,
Dave and I wanted to press onwards towards Huancayo...but
that is for the next installment.
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