Finally, after my three day wait, I collected my BMW suit this morning. It was in a far better state than I had left it with them but still smelt of petrol and still had some very ingrained tar marks. It was also a bit damp, and so whilst Phil and I packed the rest of the bike luggage together, I left the suit out in the sun to dry.
I was aware of how much effort had been put into cleaning the suit and had expected a fairly large bill but they had a fixed price of $4 which was seemed an insult after their work so I asked to meet the person who’d done all the scrubbing and they took me out to the back of the shop to meet the lady responsible. In front of her and the manager I told her I was leaving an additional $5 tip for her as I knew how hard it had been for her. She was shocked and seemed to find my “tip” a bit crazy and laughed in a very high note but she’d helped save the suit which is obviously worth far more than the $9 I’d now paid for it to be cleaned.
Finally the suit had dried in the sun as much as time would allow and I spent the next 30-45 mins re-assembling the suite with it‘s armour and various linings. (those of you with Rallye 2’s will know what I mean !). Finally we leave and head for Peru !! We’re pretty confident we can make it as it only looks to be about 75 miles on the GPS …BUT….the road soon deteriorates into dust and mud and our average speed is forced down to around 20-25mph, not only that , but the distance is greater than we’d deduced from the GPS map on the laptop and we both realised by 4 pm that we weren’t going to make it today and so settled for the last town before the border in Ecuador, Macara. In the process of looking for (and finding a reasonable Hostal for $8 per night) we are simultaneously greeted by a 26 year old Chinese Ecaudorian, Marco, who spoke a reasonable amount of English. He was keen to talk with us and we agree to meet him later in his family’s Chinese restaurant after we’ve cleaned up. The owner of our Hostal also happened to own the shoe shop across the road, which is where we got to park our bikes for the night. Yes, right in the area where you’d be measured to have your slippers fitted. I wish I’d taken a photo for you to see the bikes in there but I was hot and tired
When we do go to the Chinese restaurant, the food is a pleasant surprise, as actually tastes quite nice which has not generally been our experience of Chinese’s here so far. We got into a conversation with Marco after dinner and it turns out that he would like to live and work in Europe/England for a while. To cut a long story short, he hadn’t really done any homework as yet and so I pointed him in the direction of Google and gave him some practical tips on how he might go about it, such as a notebook and using a methodical research approach. When we left he seemed very grateful of our time and suggestions and we returned to our Hostal for cable TV and sleepzzzzzzz.
The following morning we had to walk right across town for breakfast which turned out not to be that inspiring. To add insult to injury, Phil threw it up almost as soon as we returned to the Hostal. We left for the border and got there pretty soon. The border crossing was reasonably quick at about 45 mins, and ,of that, the time we spent there was solely filling in forms….I,e, no haggling for entry costs etc.
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This, believe it or not, is a fallen over cactus !!
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Our speedy road to Peru ! ... Doh !
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...just a bit of mud on the road now.
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Finally we make it to and across the border.
Phil continued to feel really bad and around early afternoon we stopped. Firstly because we were lost ! and secondly as Phil was barely able to sit upright on his bike. He was doubled in pain sitting on a park bench whilst I tried to see if I was carrying any pain killers. Mean-while, the local Peruvians, rather than respecting Phil’s space, saw this as an opportunity to spectate a Westerner being ill. I asked Phil if he wanted me to ask them to leave, as the group had now amassed into about 8-10 “spectators” but he said not to worry. Finally I found some “Nerophen” which he took. 20 minutes later and he started to feel better, not great, but better than he had done. By this time we had an audience of about 20 or so. Somewhere in the middle of all this I tried to divert some of the attention away from Phil by drawing a crowd over to the map on the side of the bike pannier, and explaining what I was doing. However, this just had the effect of drawing more people from other areas in the park area, and only distracting a few from Phil ! Finally Phil felt well enough to leave and as I was fishing around in my pocket for my keys, a local cheekily suggested that I was looking to leave a dollar tip for them, assuming I didn’t understand. I did, told them so, and ripped into them in a fun way for being so cheeky. They all laughed and we left on our bikes. Leaving town though was no easy matter and finally one of our “spectators” led us out on his three wheeled taxi !
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Phil has to suffer with his stomach ache in front of an audience.
Neither of us had much water and it was very hot so we were looking for a place to get a drink, with one problem-all the money changers at the border had been closed for Easter, and so we were dependent on being able to use dollars. We found a small Comedor on the dust track we were riding along and asked if they would accept dollars, they said no,…. but as we were leaving a young man persuaded our hostess that dollars were fine. We stayed and became the centre of attention all over again with an audience of about 15-20. I really wished I could have spoken more Spanish as they obviously would loved to have heard some stories, but alas, they had to settle for Phil and I trying to explain what we’re doing ! We left with a great send-off and bumped along our dust and gravel track.
We were heading for Olmos for our next stay, which was referenced in Phils guide book, but when we saw it, we just carried on. We were going to continue to Chiclayo on the coast, but it was dark, and we both saw an advert from the side of the road for Hostal Tokyo in Motupe and so headed for that The owner was Japenese, Vivienne, and she was a great help. Firstly she ran me to a money changer on the back of her 125cc motorcycle, which was a bit of a laugh, but they were closed, so she agreed that we could pay for the room the following morning after we’d got some Sol’s (Peruvian currency for those not genned up properly !) However, when we got back she was aware that we also couldn’t but any food that evening, and so she offered to exchange $50 for us, which was very kind.
We found a chicken restaurant Vivienne had recommended and we ate there. Phil still wasn’t feeling too good so he took a bit of dinner and left the rest. (It wasn’t very appetising.) After which we went into the main Plaza and saw a Good Friday procession taking place, consisting of a mock Jesus in a transparent looking coffin, followed by a Giant vertical Mary. I was pleased to see Good Friday being recognised but it was too weird for me. We continued to look around town, got a few beers and headed back towards Hostal Tokyo, although not before I grabbed an Ice cream and learnt from the woman serving, that she and a few others, saw us come into town and recognised us. She was very complimentary about our bikes. This may not sound that surprising, but the town is not small at about 40,000 inhabitants, so we found it quite incredible that we’d been noticed at all.
Phil had heard from a friend of his that he should check out Puerto Chicama, just off the Pan American highway, as there was a beach which had incredible surfing waves there. After a few false starts we managed to find the road to the beach with the assistance of another tri-wheeled taxi driver. We found the beach, and a number of “surf” orientated Hostals. We found one which seemed ok but I was kept awake until 3am by a group of surfers playing music-another day started with less-than-preferred level of freshness.
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One of our last views of the Pan American before turning towards Huaraz.
We were both disappointed by all that we saw there and agreed to set off towards Huaraz, a large town in the Cordillera Blanca. We had to drive through a sand storm which forced me down to 30-40mph at points. Great to see, horrible to drive a bike in! If the sand found an exposed part of your body, such as your neck, it would blast you with an understandable sting. This gave way to a number of entry points to access Huaraz. We had reduced the possibilities to two or three. All had some aspect of riding off road, it was just about selecting the best one. We got chatting to some construction workers at a petrol garage and they said that the Nepena route was fine. However, as we find and turn into the route via Nepena, Phil is stopped by a Poilceman who warns him that the crossing is not in good condition and will take about 7 hours, however , we are advised that if we go via Camana, further along the Pan American highway, we will be able to cross in 3 hours. We kick his advice around for a while and decide that the Police must know what they are talking about and head for Camana….Doh !
Initially the view is breathtaking with approximately 40 miles of paved desert road which gave a real sense of entering a wilderness.
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Incredible scenery as we first leave the Pan American.
This finally turns into a path of dried mud with occasional construction works going on here and there, which added to the adventure of the ride. This combined with pleasant scenery makes for some fun riding for a while. …meanwhile, dusk starts to drop and the road steepens significantly and we see some too-steep-to-consider-the-consequences-of-an-accident drops. It also starts to drizzle and the dried mud becomes a bit slippery, and as we continue to ascend, turns into a heavier rain and we find the track higher up had obviously seen more rain earlier as the mud is more muddy and we find ourselves slipping more. If this weren’t enough, remembering that it is now dark, we are “greeted” at the few small towns we pass through with calls of “Gringo - Gringo”(which we later understand not to be an insult here, just a way of addressing non-nationals.), however, one local lad feels obligated to greet me with a mud turf aimed at my chest from behind a hedge, which is a bit of a shock, firstly as I wasn’t expecting it, and secondly as it must have weighed about 2 lbs. Riding is a serious enough focus for my concentration and so I just carry on ….. boys will be boys ! With the blanket of night now covering the sun, we become dependent on my spot lamps(FF50’s for those wanting to know what we’re using.) We continue to encounter more mud and rain and I become ever more conscious, some may say paranoid, of the drop I can no longer see…but am aware of ! As I trun one tight turn I am faced with a vision I really did not expect to see half way up this crossing, a torrent river of about 10 ft across. What added to the “delight” of this crossing was the fact that neither of us could see which way the track went after we’d crossed, so I dribbled forward and found myself standing in the river sitting on my bike. After a snapshot view of the track, it seemed the track went right-I didn’t want to run the risk of wet feet and so gave the poor old Dakar a handful of throttle and we lurched forward deeper into the river and out the other side with my heart now looking to exit my chest. I was now getting tired, and whilst we were both keen to reach Huaraz this evening, the risks were becoming greater than I felt comfortable with. With the advent of a side slide which left the bike resting on a pannier, and a few more heart stopping moments, and the knowledge that Huaraz was still l12-15 miles away at least, I decided that camping by the side of the road was a preferable choice for this evening, A choice that Phil agreed with and so we found a “suitable” spot by the side of the track in a cutting and set up camp. Dinner consisted of 2 Ritz biscuits, a packet of crisps, quarter carton of peach juice, and a banana and a half. This was “washed” down with a whisky each to aid our sleep.
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We leave the security of paved roads for some adventure !!
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Phil´s view of my reflective tape half way up the pass, just after we´d got across the river.
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Finally we decide to camp when the risks are just too high to continue.
One thing I’m learning is that you can never underestimate the way people can percieve an event. For instance, if you found someone camping by the side of the road in England, you would likely think they had broken down and were waiting for morning to sort something out, and you would probably carry on as quietly as possible. In Peru, it is seen as an adventure and one you should be greeted in……with your car or lorry horn at whatever time of night or day….so if the occasional headlight illuminating the entire of the tent didn’t wake you up……the car horns did !!
Finally morning came, and it was beautiful. The sun shone brightly, the sky was blue…and we could see again. An old chewy bar each that Phil was carrying, accompanied by the remainder of the peach juice was our breakfast which got us started. Initially, whilst now much safer to drive, I still found myself very nervous of the mud and drops, however after about an hour I settled down and was starting to enjoy the ride again….if a little tired to completely relax into it.
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Things always look better in the morning ! .....
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.....honest they do, honest !
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The scenery was certainly better-visible in the light !
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Off again towards the actual pass...and a bit of pot-hole dodging.
Finally, we get to the top of the pass itself and catch our first real view of the snow-capped Andes. Stunning. We spend an hour or so just enjoying the view and waving to a few Peruvian woman and their children that we see.
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Finally we get to the pass and catch our second glimpse of the Andes, and spend an hour or so trying to take it in. ç
The descent into Huaraz starts off fairly dry but we encounter a number of very very muddy tracks lasting up to a few hundred metres at a time which are water logged. For the first few we were both a bit cautious but soon found the wallowing spirit and found myself enjoying the challenge.
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The descent into Huaraz.
Eventually we arrive in Huaraz and immediately we are greeted by a local guide who just happens to meet us as we stop to get our bearings. He asks of our route, and explains that he too has a motorcycle……however he asks how we enjoyed the view from the top….as he’d never been up there !! Struck me as very funny at the time. (We later learned that Huaraz has many many walks and views to offer and so we shouldn’t have been so surprised in hindsight.)
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Finally made it to Huaraz.
We find a beautiful Hostal, “Churrup”, believe it or not, which wouldn’t have looked our of place in Switzerland, and stay there for the night. The following day I set off towards Lima and meeting John.
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Scousers seem to get everywhere (no, not Phil!..keep up...he´s from Nottingham !), in fact Churup is the name of a local Lagune.
Mike
I was aware of how much effort had been put into cleaning the suit and had expected a fairly large bill but they had a fixed price of $4 which was seemed an insult after their work so I asked to meet the person who’d done all the scrubbing and they took me out to the back of the shop to meet the lady responsible. In front of her and the manager I told her I was leaving an additional $5 tip for her as I knew how hard it had been for her. She was shocked and seemed to find my “tip” a bit crazy and laughed in a very high note but she’d helped save the suit which is obviously worth far more than the $9 I’d now paid for it to be cleaned.
Finally the suit had dried in the sun as much as time would allow and I spent the next 30-45 mins re-assembling the suite with it‘s armour and various linings. (those of you with Rallye 2’s will know what I mean !). Finally we leave and head for Peru !! We’re pretty confident we can make it as it only looks to be about 75 miles on the GPS …BUT….the road soon deteriorates into dust and mud and our average speed is forced down to around 20-25mph, not only that , but the distance is greater than we’d deduced from the GPS map on the laptop and we both realised by 4 pm that we weren’t going to make it today and so settled for the last town before the border in Ecuador, Macara. In the process of looking for (and finding a reasonable Hostal for $8 per night) we are simultaneously greeted by a 26 year old Chinese Ecaudorian, Marco, who spoke a reasonable amount of English. He was keen to talk with us and we agree to meet him later in his family’s Chinese restaurant after we’ve cleaned up. The owner of our Hostal also happened to own the shoe shop across the road, which is where we got to park our bikes for the night. Yes, right in the area where you’d be measured to have your slippers fitted. I wish I’d taken a photo for you to see the bikes in there but I was hot and tired
When we do go to the Chinese restaurant, the food is a pleasant surprise, as actually tastes quite nice which has not generally been our experience of Chinese’s here so far. We got into a conversation with Marco after dinner and it turns out that he would like to live and work in Europe/England for a while. To cut a long story short, he hadn’t really done any homework as yet and so I pointed him in the direction of Google and gave him some practical tips on how he might go about it, such as a notebook and using a methodical research approach. When we left he seemed very grateful of our time and suggestions and we returned to our Hostal for cable TV and sleepzzzzzzz.
The following morning we had to walk right across town for breakfast which turned out not to be that inspiring. To add insult to injury, Phil threw it up almost as soon as we returned to the Hostal. We left for the border and got there pretty soon. The border crossing was reasonably quick at about 45 mins, and ,of that, the time we spent there was solely filling in forms….I,e, no haggling for entry costs etc.
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This, believe it or not, is a fallen over cactus !!
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Our speedy road to Peru ! ... Doh !
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...just a bit of mud on the road now.
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Finally we make it to and across the border.
Phil continued to feel really bad and around early afternoon we stopped. Firstly because we were lost ! and secondly as Phil was barely able to sit upright on his bike. He was doubled in pain sitting on a park bench whilst I tried to see if I was carrying any pain killers. Mean-while, the local Peruvians, rather than respecting Phil’s space, saw this as an opportunity to spectate a Westerner being ill. I asked Phil if he wanted me to ask them to leave, as the group had now amassed into about 8-10 “spectators” but he said not to worry. Finally I found some “Nerophen” which he took. 20 minutes later and he started to feel better, not great, but better than he had done. By this time we had an audience of about 20 or so. Somewhere in the middle of all this I tried to divert some of the attention away from Phil by drawing a crowd over to the map on the side of the bike pannier, and explaining what I was doing. However, this just had the effect of drawing more people from other areas in the park area, and only distracting a few from Phil ! Finally Phil felt well enough to leave and as I was fishing around in my pocket for my keys, a local cheekily suggested that I was looking to leave a dollar tip for them, assuming I didn’t understand. I did, told them so, and ripped into them in a fun way for being so cheeky. They all laughed and we left on our bikes. Leaving town though was no easy matter and finally one of our “spectators” led us out on his three wheeled taxi !
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Phil has to suffer with his stomach ache in front of an audience.
Neither of us had much water and it was very hot so we were looking for a place to get a drink, with one problem-all the money changers at the border had been closed for Easter, and so we were dependent on being able to use dollars. We found a small Comedor on the dust track we were riding along and asked if they would accept dollars, they said no,…. but as we were leaving a young man persuaded our hostess that dollars were fine. We stayed and became the centre of attention all over again with an audience of about 15-20. I really wished I could have spoken more Spanish as they obviously would loved to have heard some stories, but alas, they had to settle for Phil and I trying to explain what we’re doing ! We left with a great send-off and bumped along our dust and gravel track.
We were heading for Olmos for our next stay, which was referenced in Phils guide book, but when we saw it, we just carried on. We were going to continue to Chiclayo on the coast, but it was dark, and we both saw an advert from the side of the road for Hostal Tokyo in Motupe and so headed for that The owner was Japenese, Vivienne, and she was a great help. Firstly she ran me to a money changer on the back of her 125cc motorcycle, which was a bit of a laugh, but they were closed, so she agreed that we could pay for the room the following morning after we’d got some Sol’s (Peruvian currency for those not genned up properly !) However, when we got back she was aware that we also couldn’t but any food that evening, and so she offered to exchange $50 for us, which was very kind.
We found a chicken restaurant Vivienne had recommended and we ate there. Phil still wasn’t feeling too good so he took a bit of dinner and left the rest. (It wasn’t very appetising.) After which we went into the main Plaza and saw a Good Friday procession taking place, consisting of a mock Jesus in a transparent looking coffin, followed by a Giant vertical Mary. I was pleased to see Good Friday being recognised but it was too weird for me. We continued to look around town, got a few beers and headed back towards Hostal Tokyo, although not before I grabbed an Ice cream and learnt from the woman serving, that she and a few others, saw us come into town and recognised us. She was very complimentary about our bikes. This may not sound that surprising, but the town is not small at about 40,000 inhabitants, so we found it quite incredible that we’d been noticed at all.
Phil had heard from a friend of his that he should check out Puerto Chicama, just off the Pan American highway, as there was a beach which had incredible surfing waves there. After a few false starts we managed to find the road to the beach with the assistance of another tri-wheeled taxi driver. We found the beach, and a number of “surf” orientated Hostals. We found one which seemed ok but I was kept awake until 3am by a group of surfers playing music-another day started with less-than-preferred level of freshness.
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One of our last views of the Pan American before turning towards Huaraz.
We were both disappointed by all that we saw there and agreed to set off towards Huaraz, a large town in the Cordillera Blanca. We had to drive through a sand storm which forced me down to 30-40mph at points. Great to see, horrible to drive a bike in! If the sand found an exposed part of your body, such as your neck, it would blast you with an understandable sting. This gave way to a number of entry points to access Huaraz. We had reduced the possibilities to two or three. All had some aspect of riding off road, it was just about selecting the best one. We got chatting to some construction workers at a petrol garage and they said that the Nepena route was fine. However, as we find and turn into the route via Nepena, Phil is stopped by a Poilceman who warns him that the crossing is not in good condition and will take about 7 hours, however , we are advised that if we go via Camana, further along the Pan American highway, we will be able to cross in 3 hours. We kick his advice around for a while and decide that the Police must know what they are talking about and head for Camana….Doh !
Initially the view is breathtaking with approximately 40 miles of paved desert road which gave a real sense of entering a wilderness.
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Incredible scenery as we first leave the Pan American.
This finally turns into a path of dried mud with occasional construction works going on here and there, which added to the adventure of the ride. This combined with pleasant scenery makes for some fun riding for a while. …meanwhile, dusk starts to drop and the road steepens significantly and we see some too-steep-to-consider-the-consequences-of-an-accident drops. It also starts to drizzle and the dried mud becomes a bit slippery, and as we continue to ascend, turns into a heavier rain and we find the track higher up had obviously seen more rain earlier as the mud is more muddy and we find ourselves slipping more. If this weren’t enough, remembering that it is now dark, we are “greeted” at the few small towns we pass through with calls of “Gringo - Gringo”(which we later understand not to be an insult here, just a way of addressing non-nationals.), however, one local lad feels obligated to greet me with a mud turf aimed at my chest from behind a hedge, which is a bit of a shock, firstly as I wasn’t expecting it, and secondly as it must have weighed about 2 lbs. Riding is a serious enough focus for my concentration and so I just carry on ….. boys will be boys ! With the blanket of night now covering the sun, we become dependent on my spot lamps(FF50’s for those wanting to know what we’re using.) We continue to encounter more mud and rain and I become ever more conscious, some may say paranoid, of the drop I can no longer see…but am aware of ! As I trun one tight turn I am faced with a vision I really did not expect to see half way up this crossing, a torrent river of about 10 ft across. What added to the “delight” of this crossing was the fact that neither of us could see which way the track went after we’d crossed, so I dribbled forward and found myself standing in the river sitting on my bike. After a snapshot view of the track, it seemed the track went right-I didn’t want to run the risk of wet feet and so gave the poor old Dakar a handful of throttle and we lurched forward deeper into the river and out the other side with my heart now looking to exit my chest. I was now getting tired, and whilst we were both keen to reach Huaraz this evening, the risks were becoming greater than I felt comfortable with. With the advent of a side slide which left the bike resting on a pannier, and a few more heart stopping moments, and the knowledge that Huaraz was still l12-15 miles away at least, I decided that camping by the side of the road was a preferable choice for this evening, A choice that Phil agreed with and so we found a “suitable” spot by the side of the track in a cutting and set up camp. Dinner consisted of 2 Ritz biscuits, a packet of crisps, quarter carton of peach juice, and a banana and a half. This was “washed” down with a whisky each to aid our sleep.
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We leave the security of paved roads for some adventure !!
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Phil´s view of my reflective tape half way up the pass, just after we´d got across the river.
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Finally we decide to camp when the risks are just too high to continue.
One thing I’m learning is that you can never underestimate the way people can percieve an event. For instance, if you found someone camping by the side of the road in England, you would likely think they had broken down and were waiting for morning to sort something out, and you would probably carry on as quietly as possible. In Peru, it is seen as an adventure and one you should be greeted in……with your car or lorry horn at whatever time of night or day….so if the occasional headlight illuminating the entire of the tent didn’t wake you up……the car horns did !!
Finally morning came, and it was beautiful. The sun shone brightly, the sky was blue…and we could see again. An old chewy bar each that Phil was carrying, accompanied by the remainder of the peach juice was our breakfast which got us started. Initially, whilst now much safer to drive, I still found myself very nervous of the mud and drops, however after about an hour I settled down and was starting to enjoy the ride again….if a little tired to completely relax into it.
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Things always look better in the morning ! .....
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.....honest they do, honest !
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The scenery was certainly better-visible in the light !
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Off again towards the actual pass...and a bit of pot-hole dodging.
Finally, we get to the top of the pass itself and catch our first real view of the snow-capped Andes. Stunning. We spend an hour or so just enjoying the view and waving to a few Peruvian woman and their children that we see.
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Finally we get to the pass and catch our second glimpse of the Andes, and spend an hour or so trying to take it in. ç
The descent into Huaraz starts off fairly dry but we encounter a number of very very muddy tracks lasting up to a few hundred metres at a time which are water logged. For the first few we were both a bit cautious but soon found the wallowing spirit and found myself enjoying the challenge.
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The descent into Huaraz.
Eventually we arrive in Huaraz and immediately we are greeted by a local guide who just happens to meet us as we stop to get our bearings. He asks of our route, and explains that he too has a motorcycle……however he asks how we enjoyed the view from the top….as he’d never been up there !! Struck me as very funny at the time. (We later learned that Huaraz has many many walks and views to offer and so we shouldn’t have been so surprised in hindsight.)
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Finally made it to Huaraz.
We find a beautiful Hostal, “Churrup”, believe it or not, which wouldn’t have looked our of place in Switzerland, and stay there for the night. The following day I set off towards Lima and meeting John.
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Scousers seem to get everywhere (no, not Phil!..keep up...he´s from Nottingham !), in fact Churup is the name of a local Lagune.
Mike
