Cycling South

Ecuador

 

10/08/05 -12/08/05: An inauspicious start!


Our check in at LHR went smoothly as they did not weigh the bikes. Too smoothly in fact as things could only go downhill from here. That’s exactly what they did. Two hours into our Madrid to Quito flight, the plane developed a problem and we turned around and went back to Madrid.

The delay meant that we arrived in Quito after dark and had to get a taxi to a rather seedy hotel close to the airport.

Having sorted our things the next morning, we rode out of Quito to Mitad del Mundo. This park lies directly on the equator and allowed us to take silly pictures standing with legs either side of the line. From here, it’s all south, and a hell of a long way to boot.

All journeys must start somewhere and so we turned around and slowly climbed back through the outskirts of Quito.

This time we found a much more pleasant hotel – attractive, secure and with charming staff. We would stay for two days before continuing south.

After a good night’s sleep & excellent breakfast, we went to see the sights in Quito- the colonnades in the monastery being far & away the most appealing sight. The rest of the town felt rather odd as the new-town with the business district & hotels is at a distance from the old town, which is poor but contains the colonial buildings. Apparently, the authorities are trying to move business back into the old area, obviously by uprooting the poor inhabitants.

Generally, we saw no direct evidence of crime though there are armed guards everywhere. One man we saw had a pump action shotgun over his shoulder.

Who would live in a city like this? Apparently a twenty-something Dutch girl. A friend of a friend from home, we looked her up & arranged to meet her in the evening.

Nicole runs a bar and shop (which surprisingly manages to sell trendy “G-sus” –branded clothing here). The bar would have been among the trendiest on the King’s Road had it been located there, and is certainly the most tastefully over-the-top establishment I have been in. The down side of course is that when we came to leave, an armed guard had to escort us to our taxi.

Our host took us around town (by taxi), and up to another fabulous bar. This time it was the location that made it great. Set on a hill side to the east of the city, it had views stretching right across the valley. Not for the first time that evening, we regretted not bringing our cameras.

Quito, it was obvious from our viewpoint, was rather large and we had to get right through it in order to join the Panamericana south. Nicole suggested an easily followed route that took us over into a parallel valley in a loop, avoiding most of the built-up area. It would be slightly longer she said, but far better to cycle on. It had been a good day and we went to sleep at around 10pm, jet-lagged, but content.

Friday was not so good. Getting out of Quito was never going to be fun and our route, though on relatively good roads was a considerable detour. It also made for tricky navigation. We were delighted therefore when we finally found what I think is going to become my good friend over the coming months, the Panamericana.

For a road that forms the only north-south route across a continent, it is surprisingly modest. At times it more-or-less disappears in the one-way system of a village, before re-forming afterwards.

Here, on the outskirts of Quito however, it was quite large, two lanes in each direction, but with a wide shoulder. The traffic was quite heavy but the road has a great advantage over all others- it is well signed. Whilst on this road, at least you know where you are.

Or so we thought. We had intended to camp at a site marked in Cotopaxi National Park. Apparently this is 41 kilometres from Quito (Lonely Planet distance). A combination of inaccurate distances & our longer route meant that we didn’t arrive until almost nightfall, after riding for 80 kilometres. The national park is at 3500 metres and the altitude, combined with the fact we were riding uphill towards a poorly-defined end point made this a miserable ride.

When we finally arrived at the park things got worse. We couldn’t find the camp-site. We were ushered down a railway line with the light rapidly diminishing, and told it was somewhere off to the left; this despite the fact that we could see a perfectly good camp-site with picnic tables & a couple of tents. Apparently this wasn’t in Cotopaxi NP. Our Spanish wasn’t up to explaining that the exact location didn’t matter. Somewhere a little along the track, Andrew & I took a large turn off to the left. It didn’t lead anywhere and so we returned after 5 minutes or so. Will wasn’t there. Since Will wasn’t McCavity and was not meant to disappear & since it was now properly dark, the light was going rapidly this close to the equator, we were faced with a problem.

Reasoning that it was safer to go back to the station to leave our stuff & get warm clothes & flashlights, that is what we did. Fortunately no sooner than had we set out to find him than he appeared in the distance. Visibly shaken as might be expected since on the first day he was anticipating spending some time alone in the Ecuadorian mountain forests.

Andrew explained that we would always come & look for him in such circumstances (although we’ll try to avoid them). Throughout the whole saga, the ranger had told us we should look for him mañana!

Fortunately that ranger now took pity on us (and Andrew’s drama queen antics) and let us stay in the ranger lodge – cooking facilities were used, the world’s most dangerous electric heated shower was not.

 

13/08/0515/08/05: Things begin to improve


The good thing about finishing one day at 3500 metres is that the next day starts at that altitude. We had a long spell of magic gradient down the Panamericana which is now much less busy.

We had intended to take a two-day side trip around the “Quilotoa loop” but found that the “paved road” was in fact cobbled. This was too much for our battered spirits and so we gave up Quilotoa and headed down the Panamericana, making excellent time. We decided we could reach Baños, a spa town at 1800 metres as it involved a 1000 metre drop. Once there, we would rest for a couple of days. Well the roads in the Andes cannot be relied upon to go exclusively downhill, and indeed they didn’t. We made it to Baños however, and to our next problem.

Baños is a resort town; this was the Ecuadorian bank holiday weekend. In a reversal of yesterday’s accommodation experience, we camped in a hotel garden.

We are all exhausted after just two days. Rationally this is to be expected but it is difficult to be rational in such circumstances and I think each of us would rather be somewhere else.

A good feed and sleep however (despite the Ecuadorians’ parties) and the world looks brighter. We spent a day eating, sleeping, reading, attempting to learn Spanish and in my case, listening to Bach. Things seem better still and, as we relax, we talk and get a little banter going – something that has been lacking so far.

It is clear that this will be a hard trip but the Panamericana may well prove to be our salvation – a wide, well sized road that avoids excessive gradients. Hopefully the traffic will not prove too heavy. At the very least, it is a road that traverses a continent, a road with a soul.

Unfortunately, it is currently 1000metres above us but I will have to leave that for another day.

 

16/08/05 –18/08/05: Up, up and away


Actually, not quite so fast…  The road from Baños to Riobamba passes along the flank of Tungarahua, an active volcano. In 1999, it erupted destroying sections of the road. We had, perhaps naively assumed that by now it would be repaired. Apparently not. Whilst the bus drivers assured us that they used this road, the gringos we talked to said “Absolutely not”. Our friendly but mad Dutch café owner and ex cycle tourist reckoned we’d make it up on bikes if we left early. By now it was midday – another day in Baños beckoned.

Baños is very relaxing, it is easy to see how many gringo travellers arrive and never leave. Another day therefore proved no problem for us. We rose early (ish), had some breakfast and set off for our closed road to Riobamba. We found the turn off and as we did so, a bus drove down it. Evidently not so closed after all.

Well the road wasn’t bad at all. Three or four sections were under repair but the rest was tarmacked. The buses had no problem and neither did we – it seems as though the locals don’t tell the Europeans in Baños as much as they might.

The only issue was that I began to feel unwell, just weak at first, but when we rolled into Riobamba, I was in a bad way. Shivering and vomiting, a few later though and I was feeling much better. Something I ate.

The day from Riobamba to Alausi, where I am writing this, was fabulous. A climb up to a high plateau initially (from 1750m to 2300metres) and we then rode along a beautiful undulating road, great scenery an all sides and perhaps a car each minute.

Actually most of the cars were trucks and they are packed full of Ecuadorians, with the occasional sheep thrown in for good measure. They all wave at us (the Ecuadorians not the sheep) and wonder what the mad gringo is doing on his bicycle when he could be on a bus. It’s us and the dogs out in the midday sun. As an aside, there are lots of dogs everywhere. Many bark, none has yet had the courage to bite. We also saw four dead today, road kill, in different stages of decomposition. They didn’t bark. There was a sheep on the roof of a bus.

Alausi is at 2400m, we rode most of the day at over 3000m. The descent from the plateau was fantastic. It began with the road swooping down through a canyon before barrelling us out into the most attractive valley so far. Of course, this being the Andes, there was a sting in the tail, a sharp climb (not really short), before flying down to Alausi.

Just about on the tourist trail by virtue of its railway, Alausi is extremely pleasant. We took to it immediately and got a hotel on the main drag. Besides, the hill awaiting us when we leave is a monster and there is no question of going any further.

 

19/08/05 –20/08/05: The going gets tough


Actually the climb wasn’t so bad – only around 350m. The problem was that having climbed that height, we descended. Again and again. Round, through and up from valley after valley. A monstrous day’s riding. After 40km, we had climbed 1000m. Soon after however, as Andrew put it, it ceased to be fun. It became mere survival. We had hoped to reach Incapirca, apparently a 90km ride and we had left early despite the local gathering in out hotel which had hampered out sleep and more or less destroyed the shared bathrooms. It became clear however that Incapirca was probably at 100km and that we could not possibly reach it today – we didn’t have the time or energy.

Crossing a pass before descending to Zhud, we passed a perfect campsite next to a lake. We should have taken it but decided to press on into the next valley. Where it had been calm as calm a moment before, in Zhud’s valley it was blowing a gale. We had to pedal hard just to go downhill and find that there was no accommodation at Zhud! There was only one option, and we took it, to continue until there was a spot to camp. After a while, the wind was too strong to ride safely. Even walking, our bikes would get blown over.

Eventually, when Will was beyond his limit and we were fast approaching ours, we found an uninhabited spot right at the top of the next pass. It had some shelter and so we set up camp.

The gale blew all night, but next day we rode on and a few kilometres further it became calm. Maybe that valley is always windy.

We were too far from Cuenca to make it that day but Azogues was just about the right distance. There was a 3500m pass en route but it was at a nice gradient and was followed by 1000m downhill – a much better state of affairs than the day before. We all agree, a long climb followed by a descent is very much preferable to a steep up/down all day.

 

21/08/0523/08/05: We’ve made it to Cuenca


Azogues was actually very pleasant. We had an excellent (and very large) dinner at a pizza/ ice-cream place, incorporating 4 pizzas, 4 milk shakes, 2 beers, a coke and 3 huge ice-creams for just $20. There was a fast internet connection as well and I was able to make a date on MSN messenger with Malin for the next day in Cuenca.

The ride to Cuenca was easy and we had our best piece of trail magic to date – a local road cyclist led us right through the outskirts to the centre of town.

The internet is a marvellous thing at home. Here it is a lifeline. For under $1 an hour, we can e mail, update our blog, and instant message. This was my first venture onto IM. Andrew has been using it extensively with Alissa, who is in Guatemala. Malin on the other hand is at a 7 hour time difference (note: 6 hours actually, we hadn’t noticed for 3 weeks!)  and so it is rather harder to find a time that suits us both. On this occasion it worked out, and it was great to “talk” to her- better actually than the crappy phone connection we had in Baños. We are both fine but agree that the contact makes us miss each other more. I don’t suppose this is a bad thing!

Malin has booked her flight out to Chile to see me – she will be arriving on the 2nd December so now I know I have to make it until then. Andrew is now leaving early to see Alissa, so I will have from the 12th October on my own. In some ways I am looking forward to this section, which will now include Bolivia. I am a little apprehensive about tackling this area on my own, but all reports say that it is not to be missed. The salt lakes and Altiplano are apparently extraordinary landscapes but the conditions are harsh and there is no back up. You really are on your own out there.

I think I would always regret it if I didn’t go, so I will now research as much as possible (internet again), and cross my fingers. Mum will doubtless worry, but most likely, it will be tough and I will be fine.

Cuenca was pleasant, we ate well and I scored a small coup by obtaining replacement batteries for my bicycle computer. Altitude gain will once again be accurate! On the down side, it transpires that Andrew forgot to obtain malaria pills for me. We have enough to last us till Lima and hopefully can have some sent there so we can finish the course. From now on, I will always obtain important things like that myself. As Trish said before we left “Why are you going with those muppets?” before answering the question herself “I guess there wasn’t any one else!” True.

We weren’t quite sure what awaited us out of Cuenca. All we knew was that it had to be largely downhill. Indeed it was, although all the downs here have their fair share of ups. The change in vegetation on the way down was amazing. At one point the valley became totally arid for 10km, giving the appearance of being on another planet. Suddenly it gave way to banana plantations and lush tropical greenery. This posed us somewhat of a problem since we had been expecting to camp. There just wasn’t anywhere and the road was lined with shacks which made even looking pointless – someone’s pig would inevitably be occupying the flat ground.

It was getting late but we felt we had just enough time to make it to Pasaje 15km away. We rode fast, the near-sea level oxygen content helping considerably and we made it at dusk. Unfortunately Pasaje has not made it into the Lonely Planet despite its size. We were therefore somewhat blind and at the mercy of the hotel owner when we stopped – a seller’s market. Whether he owns the only hotel in Pasaje, I don’t know. He may well. Whatever he wouldn’t budge on $10 a person, a frankly extortionate amount and double what we paid in Cuenca. I guess he needs it more than we do but we can’t help feeling ripped-off.

Now for the good news, we rode 150km today and because of that we will spend tomorrow night in Peru. With luck the phones might even work.


Peru

 

24/08/0526/08/05: Peru


The phones do indeed work here so I’ve had the first direct contact with Mum since I left – hopefully we’ll have plenty of reception from here. The internet remains cheap & fast.

I’m getting ahead of myself. We rode out of Pasaje this morning in the rain – a fine mist of drizzle that seemed to pick up all the spray from the road and cover us in it. We were filthy within minutes. The road itself continued through banana plantations until the rain stopped and the vegetation changed to a desert brush.

We reached the border at 70km to find the formalities were somewhat optional. Despite being 2 foot taller than average and riding bikes with yaks, caked in dirt, I am sure that we could have just ridden straight into Peru. It seemed sensible however to get our stamps and so we did. From here it was 30km on flat straight road to Tumbes. The while area has a border town feel to it and is not that nice. Tumbes itself has a certain appeal (enough for one night anyway). We are accosted by the type of guy who is desperate to sell us something only he doesn’t have anything to sell. Eventually we give him an Ecuadorian dollar coin to make him go away. I hate giving money to people like that as it encourages their behaviour but after a while it’s the path of least resistance. The coin was worthless to me in any case.

Tumbes was the first town to be conquered by Pizarro in South America and as such has quite an interest. The history of the continent, and to some extent, the world changed here. Now only a town called Puerto Pizarro gives any indication of the history of the place. It’s a border town like thousands of others. A place to leave as soon as you can. Which for us is tomorrow – a ride to the surf town of Mancora

The ride to Mancora was rather dull. Flat desert with a road through it does not make for exciting cycling. There was little in the way of life for 60km although holiday shacks indicated that at some time of year the exceptional beaches must attract holiday makers. A shame then that most of the beaches are covered in trash. At what level of GDP does society start clearing up after itself?

For quite a distance along this route I questioned why I was doing this. Why would you choose to cycle this road in the name of fun? Aside from the “because it’s there” answer, I found a better reason. We arrived at a pay station (we do not have to pay for the road) but next to it, joy of joys was a beachside restaurant. Good, very cheap food and incredible views of the ocean. Our moods changed almost instantly and it all became worthwhile. Had we been in a bus, we would most likely never have come here. If we had we wouldn’t have enjoyed it half as much.

Refuelled and with greater enthusiasm, we rode the final 30km to Mancora. Interestingly, at some point during the day, and at least 100km from the border we found the Peruvian customs post. What good it does I have no idea. They just waved us through.

Mancora is a little oasis of a backpacker centre. Apparently the waves are very good which accounts for its positioning – otherwise it could easily be anywhere else on the coast. It’s pretty cool here although the famous wave is not evident currently. We are in a very pleasant hostal, complete with bamboo thatching and hammocks (in which I am currently writing this). We met some Dutch girls and an English gap-year student who made for pleasant dinnertime company. Our trips are rather different but in many ways we have a lot in common and standard travellers’ conversation flows easily. Five questions asked of everyone: Name, age, where are you from? Where have you been and where are you going? Actually I don’t bother with the first two – I’ll only forget the name and the age is pretty easy to guess.

We spent a very relaxed second day in Mancora before heading out for an easy 70km to Talara, a desert oil town on the coast. Beach and good food are the order of the day and we are in good spirits.

 

27/08/0528/08/05: In the desert


We’re in Talara. For the second night. Being that Talara is not really what you might call a resort town – it is an oil town in the desert, something must have gone wrong…

Will has finally succumbed to tummy trouble and so we can’t ride for the day. Talara has little to recommend it – it’s not particularly bad, it is just that as a tourist there is absolutely nothing to do. There are basically no decent restaurants and so we try our best shot and go to the swankiest hotel in town, - the one for all the oil business men, for our lunch. Lunch is OK but comes with one major benefit, we manage to lie by the pool in their quiet garden for more-or-less the whole afternoon.

 

29/08/0530/08/05: Piura and some insight into my feelings.


I was pretty frustrated by our lack of progress in Talara. In fact we are all quite frustrated. I think – this is not a holiday, it is an experience, an expedition, call it what you will. It has had its enjoyable moments thus far, but there have been plenty of hardships to get them. At present we are faced with a thousand kilometres of desert between here and Lima.

I think Will is finding it hardest, not physically but mentally. He has a five-week chunk of time and probably didn’t envisage it being quite like this. He has never done anything remotely off the tourist trail before and I feel he resents being here. Though he was the one who decided to join us, I feel partly responsible. Andrew feels more so and there is a negative vibe amongst us. Left to our own devices we would travel differently and it is hard to reconcile these differences.

I expect however that in the long run, this will be a trip he looks back on for a long time and most likely, he will never do anything similar again.

Andrew “understands” the trip, and may have been better prepared for it mentally than I was. He spent 6 months in rural China which must be as alien a place as anywhere. At least the people here have seen a white person before and at least we can read the signs and menus. He also has the advantage that he can eat the meat dishes and introduce some minor variation into his diet. He will also be leaving in a month and a half, for me there are four and a half months.

It is ironic that I was frustrated by Will’s illness because today it is me who is ill and holding us back. Tomorrow we’ll be on the road again, presumably through more desert. We’ll pass some sort of a salt lake which might break it up a bit.

The truth is, I’m a little scared of what lies ahead, especially as the near future appears to have little of interest. I want to get back into the Andes and at present Cuzco is a bit of a promised land. From there it’ll be Lake Titicaca, La Paz and the Bolivian altiplano. Cuzco is a long way off though and doubtless feelings and emotions will continue to roller-coaster before then.
Positives: I’m feeling better today, frequent texts from Malin are great, we have hot water here, Jesse may come out and ride with me, I’m listening to Bach and so the world can’t be too bad. Thank God for technology!

 

31/08/0504/09/05: I’m ill.


A lot has happened since my last entry and not much of it has been cycling. We did indeed ride into the desert for 110km and into a headwind. It wasn’t actually too bad for a while as there were some trees and farms. Normal service resumed after a while however as we knew it would. When we camped I began to feel unwell once more and after dinner I went straight to bed. The major symptom was initially a headache and eye pain but I soon became feverish as well.

In the morning I managed to drag my stuff together though really I just wanted to sleep. I knew I couldn’t, we had camped in the middle of nowhere and needed to press on to get food and water.
 If riding 110km in a desert headwind is bad when one is well, it is a lot worse when you are running a temperature. I felt truly awful from 30km and when we reached the town of Moropé at 80km I knew I wasn’t cycling any further. We really wanted to make Chiclayo to give us some more options and so after various attempts, I managed to get a motorcycle rickshaw with my bike and yak and got driven to Chiclayo. The cold, bumpy 30km ride didn’t help my condition but at least it wasn’t cycling.

(Appalling representation of rickshaw)

I’ll stick to writing… I was in bed for nearly 40 hours. Fortunately we had a hot shower, and Mum & Malin were able to call me. It was pretty miserable however and I definitely need to avoid this when I am on my own. Not necessarily possible, I know.

Our options became fewer & fewer. Obviously with the time left, we need to get a bus in order to reach Lima on time. We decided to get one here. The next day therefore we were deposited in Chimbote, courtesy of Linea buses.

The bus was not an easy decision for me. I had intended to ride the whole route though without knowing quite why. After all, my major reason for touring by bicycle is because I enjoy it. If I am not enjoying a section it makes sense to skip it. The view from the bus window proved that I hadn’t missed very much! Of course I won’t have cycled a continuous route from Quito to Tierra del Fuego but I will hopefully have cycled the majority and, importantly, have had the time to see the best bits. We’ll see, at present, I am quite content with the decision.

Chimbote is a pleasant fishing town and the sea breeze is a welcome change. For the first time, we have checked into a mid-range hotel for a princely $10 each. The budget options were real dives and this is well worth the extra couple of quid.

We are very wealthy here. Of course, we knew we would be but occasionally it is really brought home. A teacher’s salary for instance, is $200 a month. Life if of course cheaper here, and we are quite comfortable on $200 a week each. It is pretty obvious though that a Peruvian teacher couldn’t undertake a similar trip within Peru, let alone come to Europe. There is a whole class of society who clearly have nothing whatsoever and are living off the land as they have always done. What they would think if they knew that VISA would happily give me $1000 in cash or more, I cannot imagine. Probably neither can they. Often we are asked how much our bikes are worth, to which we generally sort of shrug, they suggest $200 and we agree! They are also fascinated by the computer and at present think that Will has the best bike since he has suspension.

 

05/09/05:  Something has happened


I’m not sure what yet but the gods are smiling on us today. The desert was not so deserted, the topography had some contours, the sky was bluer and the wind cross & then tail. Best of all I’m writing this by a swimming pool.

After a very pleasant and relatively rapid 60km from Chimbote, we reached the town of Casma. Looking for lunch, we went to the Hotel Las Poncinas; this turns out to be exceptionally pleasant with lush gardens and a fine swimming pool. The owner speaks excellent English, having studied in Ramsgate (!) for a year. We had intended to continue up the mountain road to Huaraz today but found this place irresistible. Hopefully we won’t regret our stay over the coming couple of days. At present, no regrets!

 

 

06/09/0507/09/05: The climb to Huaraz


Unfortunately, I do not have an accurate distance to Huaraz. A couple of websites suggested 149km, we will see. I am writing this in a tiny road-side stall where I bought a bottle of Coca-cola. Other than the friendly proprietor and his toddler daughter, I am alone.
Yesterday, the three of us rode 70km from Casma before camping at a beautiful spot by a stream. The ride was long & hard and took us all day. It was also very hot and Andrew developed some kind of heatstroke. He felt rough all night and predictably didn’t really feel that a 2500m climb would make him feel any better. William decided to join him in taking a bus. I hope that this enterprise is going OK because today, I have ridden 30km and they haven’t come past yet! I’ve met some nice people today, the guy here, a lady who came to chat while I rested by the roadside. The conversations are somewhat limited by my poor Spanish and non-existent Quechua but they are nice to have non-the-less. Some teenage girls threw stones at me which was less pleasant, fortunately their aim was poor and they are now the proud possessors of a new English vocabulary.

Apparently it is 1.5 hours from here to the pass by bus, how long I will take is anyone’s guess. From there it is 30km downhill to Huaraz. I’m currently at 3000m and the pass is at 4200m so there is still plenty of climbing to be done!

Well, I made it! I am camped overlooking the Cordellira Blanca, right on the top of the pass. In truth, I had the time to reach Huaraz, but I am very tired and the view from here is phenomenal – I worked hard to get here (very hard!) and I want to enjoy it. Tomorrow, the sun will rise over the mountains and I will have a 30km descent into Huaraz.
The only worrying thing is that I didn’t get passed by Andrew & William on the road. Only about 5 cars/buses overtook me and they weren’t in them. Mid-afternoon, 2 vans offered me lifts and so presumably, they could have hitched with one of those. It’s possible that since nothing came up the road all morning, they decided to cut their losses and head back to Casma. I hope I have a message when I have a phone signal and I hope that they are OK.

Sometimes it is easier just to look after yourself. Today, I rode at my own pace, stopped when I wanted, and when I wanted to camp I could. I suspect that the Dunns would have wanted to be in Huaraz. My view is that this is a spot I will remember forever, a budget room in Huaraz, though more comfortable, wouldn’t be.

I am absolutely alone right now and thoughts inevitably turn to what everyone is doing. Malin is presumably asleep in her new flat. Hopefully she & Ali are getting along well, I think they will. Im will be at home with the new boiler. Mum is on her French course and Dad, I think is in Paris (inferred from rhyming couplet in most recent text!). I may be alone tonight, but tomorrow, I will be connected again and people won’t seem so far away. It’s almost a week since I was sick and had the phone calls so it will be good to catch up with everyone again.

One negative, my Yak broke today – I’ll have to find a welder tomorrow. Spanish for weld anyone?

 

08/09/0510/09/05: It’s getting better all the time


To weld is “soldar”, so not too difficult at all. The descent was all it promised to be and fortunately the Dunns had managed to reach Huaraz via 2 buses. The second involved Andy sitting on the stairwell next to a goat, trying not to be violently sick!

I very much enjoyed Huaraz, a kind of Peruvian Chamonix, The mountains are omnipresent and we stayed in probably our best hotel yet. Not pricey, but clean with good, hot showers and a great terrace for breakfast. They are also affiliated (by means of being brothers) with the mountain bike guide in the area. His workshop is in the building.

It’s a cycle friendly place and an American yoga teacher who practically lives there, was extremely helpful in route planning and Yak-fixing. The welding done by Hector, her friend is first-class, almost invisible and he also re-sprayed the trailer. Hopefully it will be as strong as it looks!

The possibility of some single-track in the Cordellira Blanca was too good to miss and the second day we hired Julio Olaza to guide us. It was some of the best riding I’ve ever done, with hundreds & hundreds of trails just waiting for mountain bikes. Our loop over varied terrain gave us some fabulous views and the riding itself was as good as anything the Welsh purpose built trails had to offer. It easy to see how you could spend years here and hardly repeat the same trail, exactly what Julio has done.

All good things must come to an end, and we must keep heading south. The repaired Yak was therefore pressed back into action and today I rode up the valley towards the pass to Lima. I had intended to take a side-trip to see a forest of Puya Raymondii which is a member of the pineapple family with a 10m tall flower. Sadly the side road was awful and I just couldn’t face the 13km in each direction. Sometimes the bike/legs let you down on a trip like this.

I am on my own again as the Dunns’ are off to Lima for Will’s flight. It is odd to think that I won’t see him again till next summer – there were even some positive comments about the trip as we said goodbye! Hopefully he has enjoyed it overall and will have some incredible memories to take away with him. I’m sure he has learnt a lot about himself and at the very least he will be fitter for next season’s cycling at Stanford.

Tomorrow or the next day I’ll be in Lima with Andrew but being out here today has got me thinking about what it will be like when he leaves. Since he is going two weeks earlier than he originally planned, my period on my own is now from 12th October to 2nd December, a period of seven weeks which is a long time in anyone’s book. Hopefully I will meet some other cyclists but obviously this cannot be relied on. Who knows, maybe I’ll enjoy the solitude. There is a fine line between being alone & being lonely. I suspect that the riding will be fine as I’ll have something to occupy me. It’ll be the evenings, particularly on the days, like this one when I stop early. The prospect of getting ill is very real and doesn’t bear thinking about- it may well be that I decide to get a bus down to some company in Santiago, I have considered taking a Spanish course somewhere. Alone or lonely it’ll all come down to that distinction.

 

11/09/0513/09/05: To Lima


The ride down from the pass to Barranca was initially a great deal of fun. Once I had reached the top of the climb (more stupendous views, this time with llamas), I waved goodbye to the Cordillera Blanca and whistled downwards at 50kph for a whole hour. At the end of this hour I met a Dutch couple coming the other way and naturally we swapped stories of cycle touring. They fall into the “sold everything, no deadlines, world tour” category. They had started in Santiago, ridden to Ushuaia and were now heading, very slowly up to Alaska. I think that this is the sort of trip that one can only really do with a spouse – it’d just be too long alone or with anyone else. I am pleased that I have a life to go back to, a job, a house and a girlfriend. Part of what I hope to achieve on this trip is to decide where I would like that life to take me. Certainly, I already have some ideas and it is an excellent way of putting things into context.

By now the Dutch will be in Huaraz having had an excellent ride down the valley. The second half of my day by contrast, though also downhill, was rather dull as I re-entered the desert and, of course, a headwind.

I reached Barranca easily enough and decided that if possible, it would be vastly preferable to be in Lima for the night than here, It was indeed possible, and, without the time to wash, change clothes, or even to pee, I was bundled onto a bus. To her credit the girl next to me didn’t appear to mind the smell and chatted to me in Spanish, hasty flicks through the phrase-book enabling us to converse for over an hour.

I enjoyed Lima, we ate some excellent food and even drank some good wine. We went to a jazz-club with our guest-house owner. The jazz was not as good as the food, but the company was pleasant. The contrast between Miraflores, the fashionable district and the mountain villages was once again stark. A thin veneer of civilization over a mass of poorly educated poverty. Our flirtation with the gringo-trail will continue for one more day as we bus through yet more desert to Nasca.

 

14/09/0515/09/05: Nasca and beyond


Nasca was interesting. We took a flight and saw the lines, possibly used as a form of ceremony to the gods to plead for rain. Easy to see why this was so precious to them surrounded by desert. The animal figures are impressive but smaller than I imagined. Perhaps more remarkable still are the huge variety of straight lines in the desert connecting various points. It is a sad reflection of today’s Peru that the panamericana runs straight through the lizard – they seem incapable of managing even what has been handed down to them by their ancestors.

Again and again, we find that if only they really understood what westerners want when they are on holiday, they could charge a premium and make some money. Mealtimes are particularly galling. We ask for fried eggs and tea and are happily delivered scrambled & coffee. It is not our inability to speak good Spanish! They just don’t care about service.

Today we are camped at the school in Hualhua, not a town you will have heard of, comprising, as it does of seven shacks and a donkey. They are friendly however and can sell us water which is all we need. For some reason, the kids are not at school this week. The town marks the midpoint of another big climb; tomorrow we will reach a pass at 4400m, the highest yet. Apparently there may be snow up there though I suspect we will be able to get across. Our road is paved and has regular, if infrequent bus and lorry traffic. The sunset is great, I’m off to take a photo.

Interestingly and rather against all expectations, shortly after dusk an Australian couple rolled in in a camper van. We were to say the least a little surprised! They were excellent company over dinner and achieved number 1 trail magic marks by sharing a bottle of wine with us. A most pleasant evening in rather unlikely circumstances.

 

16/09/0517/09/05: Onwards and upwards


We woke to the sounds of a donkey being strangled. Actually it was unharmed; maybe it was practising for strangulation. It certainly sounded absurd. We were, once again surrounded by the village children who were fascinated by us and all we had with us.

Once we had packed up, ensuring that nothing went astray except the empty water bottles that the children seemed especially keen on, we continued up the hill. That, pretty much is the story of the day. We are once again surrounded, this time by adults in a vicuña reserve. Ten guys wearing cowboy hats are counting our gears. Our bikes are worth $300 we say. They soon realise that we are not that interesting, presumably partly because we are wrapped up in sleeping bags against the cold. It is 4000m here and bitter, doubtless it’ll worsen as the sun sets.

Vicuñas are much smaller than llamas and much prettier, with big brown eyes. They are everywhere here, roaming the hillsides. One appears to be a pet in the sanctuary compound. Apparently they are endangered in most other areas so it is good to be able to see so many. They are almost deer-like in their movement, very graceful.

We, on the other hand are not so graceful, and, as Andrew put it, are buggered. Not literally you’ll understand. It has been a hefty two days of riding and thinking about it, a sizeable nine days in total for me. The altitude of course takes it out of you. Tomorrow, with luck, some downhill and a shower in Puquio.

 

17/09/0518/09/05: Puquio and beyond


Puquio did provide a warm shower and perhaps a little too much downhill given the fact that we know we’ll be going back up it again. It didn’t provide much else, the first restaurant we tried for our late lunch couldn’t provide a veggie option, not even a tortilla de verdures, the usual staple. Fortunately we located a chifa (Peruvian Chinese) place and were able to have a huge arroz chaufa, excellent bike food. Lucky I got this as the pizzeria we had spied out for dinner had run out of pizza and I had to make do with some sandwiches. The perils of vegetarianism! In general I think I’ve done pretty well so far although the next meal is always a concern. We need good food like a car needs petrol. When we can’t eat out, we have been able to get pasta and occasionally super noodles to cook. Our absolute staple are Oreo cookies which are easy to find and we use like the granola bars on the Great Divide trip. Luxury is a Snickers, this trip’s equivalent of a power bar and worth several packs of Oreos in my book.

As I write this I am in a tent in the middle of nowhere. It is snowing quite hard and the altiplano has been covered in white. I pity the poor llamas and vicuñas we have passed, but I guess they’re used to it. We had expected a 25km, 800m climb out of Puquio and it shouldn’t come as any surprise to find that we were wrong. It was 47km and over 1000m until we reached the altiplano. Even from there we climbed a further 200m over rolling terrain. We would like to have ridden further in our bid to reach Cusco in 5 days but we saw some threatening cloud/mist and decided to stop, a fortunate decision. We are very glad to be warm and dry right now.

I neglected to mention the Irish chap we met last night, travelling with his Spanish girlfriend. We saw their BMW touring motorcycle at our hotel and, as you can when staying in Puquio, just banged on their door and suggested dinner together. They (especially he) were a lot of fun and it was interesting to compare our methods of travelling. They, for instance will be in Buenos Aires in a fortnight, however once there, he will have to ship the bike back to Ireland. Border crossings sound to have been a massive pain in the arse, involving paperwork and bribery. They travel faster, but maybe they miss things too. Less than in a car, I’m sure. As he put it, in a car, you watch a movie, on a motorbike you’re in it. Where that leaves us, I’m not sure! A low budget production probably!

 

19/09/05 20/09/05: Down to Abancay


All in all, an excellent couple of days riding.  We were aided by the 150km we have ridden down a river valley since coming off the altiplano, magic gradient most of the way and something of a reward for all the climbing we have done.
The first day in particular was a really good ride through very varied terrain. Initially really cold, I was riding in most of my clothes, then as the sun came out and we descended, it warmed up considerably. The scenery was incredible, we had photo opportunities around every corner, from the alpacas on the altiplano to weird rock formations in our river valley. Best of all we have been three days from Puquio rather than a possible four, putting us a day closer to our relaxing week in Cusco. With luck (and some strong legs), we can get there in two days from here. First off we have a 1600m climb; from there it should be relatively plain sailing. I am now feeling a kind of chronic fatigue from a week or two of some solid riding, it’ll be good to get a rest.

 

21/09/0524/09/05: Cusco


It was indeed one hell of a climb out of Abancay but we made it to the top before 1 o’clock after 35km of solid climbing. For once, there were no false summits, the pass being where we expected it to be, and about 100m lower! We thought we’d broken the back of the ride to Cusco as, from the map, it appeared we descended down into a river valley along a river and then rode up another river. It, and we, were wrong.

We descended, and then just kept on going down. This was great from a distance perspective, we reached 100km with ease, putting us just 96km from Cusco when we crossed the river (finally) and began to climb again. Unfortunately, we were now at 1800m, with the pass at 4000m! Once again a big climb was upon us.

It was around 5pm and the town of Limatambo was 20km away. Thinking we had an hour and a half of light, we pushed on in the hope of reaching a hostal and of shortening the distance to Cusco. It had been dark for half an hour when we finally arrived, but our warm welcome made it well worthwhile. We had also managed to climb to 2500m, an excellent start for the next day. Limatambo was extraordinarily cheap. Less than £2 each for a room, dinner & breakfast, all of which were excellent. Simple of course, and the shower drained into the squat toilet, but very friendly. I am not one for big tips, but they got an extra £2 the next morning!

Once again, the map was wildly inaccurate. Our pass, stated as being 4100m high, was in fact at 3600m. Of course, this is the right sort of error so we weren’t so upset! From here, it really was plain sailing, a very shallow descent around a gently sloping bowl-shaped valley and a short ascent back to 3600m before the final stretch into Cusco.

I am currently in a lovely colonial courtyard in Niños hotel, fountain in the centre and well-rested after a day of eating and doing odd jobs. I am wearing clean clothes.

 

 

25/09/0528/09/05: The Sacred Valley



Somehow, after having eaten and drunk in the tiniest shacks in the tiniest villages between Nasca and Cusco, Andrew managed to get ill having arrived back at civilisation. Everything costs a multiple of what it did a few miles away and there are gringos everywhere.

On our first day, we were impressively productive, managing to organise hotels for our sacred valley tour, a Machu Picchu trip, new books and Lonely Planets, e mails left right and centre, big photo upload, the list goes on. We also ate a lot. On the second day we paid a somewhat extotionate70 soles for the Cusco Boleto Touristico which allows entry to various tourist destinations only to find it didn’t include the cathedral. That was an extra 15 soles, but included guide. Ours apparently spoke English, though the only phrases that we could decipher were “18 to 24 carat go…old” applied to anything with a gilt appearance and the somewhat ironic “I speak very slowly so you understand”. We resisted the temptation to point out that we would understand English at whatever speed, being, in fact native English speakers! He reminded us of Umberto Eco’s character Salvatore who speaks at once in “all languages and none”. It was, as Andrew said, simultaneously the most entertaining and worst tour he’d ever been on.

Unfortunately we woke on the third day for our ride to Pisac with Andrew’s stomach playing up. Fortunately, a largely downhill 32km is not too taxing regardless of your state of health and the riding wasn’t a major problem though sadly I don’t think he was really able to appreciate some of the Inca sites we passed. We were also unable to carry out our plan of riding up to Inca Pisac that afternoon, settling instead for a taxi the next morning. It was market day in Pisac, which was fun although for the stall holders trying to sell us rugs and pots, a little unproductive. We also ate well at Ulrike’s café. This leads me to the observation that businesses run be ex-pats are inevitably better run than their Peruvian counterparts and certainly a great deal better at appealing to westerners. But then also to the inevitable follow-up -  why do they want to live and run a business in Pisac? I can’t really comprehend this; maybe it has to do with the fact that most of them are Dutch.

The next morning, I very much enjoyed our visit to Inca Pisac, a large fortress 600m above the valley. It is a spectacular site with some fine terracing and stone-work. Most importantly, it is nearly empty and one can just wander around, free to go anywhere.

A pleasant 40km down the Urabamba to, in fact, Urabamba, was broken up by meeting the same Dutch guys that we met in Huaraz. It was interesting to hear of their experiences taking the dirt roads and high passes into the middle of nowhere but also having to catch an aeroplane from Lima to Cusco. They are flying home in a couple of days, and we left them at Urabamba to find the luxurious Hotel Sol y Luna.

This is the place that Jigga stayed on her Sacred Valley tour and she kindly offered to pay for us to spend a couple of nights here. So it is that I am sitting writing this on a sun lounger by a pool. It is very pleasant to be sure and is one way of travelling. I am glad to know however that only 50 miles away in Limatambo, one can live quite pleasantly for 40 times less. This trip has been all about contrasts, none more-so than this.

As if the gods knew that we had been relaxing too much, they threw a rather larger hill at us than we had anticipated. Rather than a short, sharp, up the edge of the valley climb, we got 30km of up. It was fine really and would not have been a hard day if we had been expecting it – the surprises are always the nastiest climbs. We met the Dutch guys again, it turns out that they are booked into Hostal los Niños as well, so we arranged to go for dinner. We rode for four hours without a break which probably explains why I felt as tired arriving in Cusco following the gentle Sacred Valley tour as when I rode in on the same road after eight days of serious climbing! At least this time we knew where everything was and headed to the Blueberry Lounge for one of their excellent sandwiches.

 

29/09/05: Machu Picchu again


If I’m honest, I wasn’t as blown away by Machu Picchu as everyone else appears to be the last time I visited. Maybe it is travelling there by train, maybe it is the whole package tourist experience – there isn’t really any other way. The Inca Trail doesn’t really appeal either, shared as it is with 500 others each day, camping in the same spots as them each night with your guide and porters. This is adventure tourism for middle aged Americans. To be frank again, this time was no different. The place is undeniably impressive, doubtless more so if you’ve walked there and arrive at dawn, but it isn’t that much more impressive than Pisac, where you can wander to your heart’s content, or in Andrew’s case, climb (see photo).

£100 is a lot of money in Peru as we have discovered, and that is what the return trip with guide costs. Apparently, according to our very good, but slightly over-scientific (even for me) guide 90% of that money remains in Lima. The earth below the ruins is subsiding slowly but nothing is being done to protect them. This was not a “24 carat goo..ld” tour, this was an “according to scientific research by architects and seismologists from the University of Osaka” type tour. He knew his stuff though and was entertaining to listen to.

The train journey home deserves a mention. This time (feeling wealthy having worked for a year) I decided to take the “Vistadome” train for an extra $30 as it was more comfortable and got back two hours earlier. An added, and unpublicised benefit was that the stewards, one male & one female were transformed midway home into models of alpaca-wear. The aisle became a runway and elevator music gave way to Kylie and the Bee Gees. Half-an-hour of this amusement, followed by a further hour of watching the American ladies around us buy the stuff (having inexplicably asked “what brand is it?”) was well worth the extra fare.

 

30/09/0501/10/05  Back on the road


I am writing in Andahuaylillas, 40km south of Cusco. A sleepy little town, that makes it into the Lonely Planet by virtue of its rather unusual church. Unusual, not least because it is rather attractive on the inside, quite unlike most of the gaudy churches to date. Also unusual is the fact that in the square outside, a ten year old is playing a tuba with great gusto, if little skill. All part of an evening in Andahuaylillas. We both agree that it is good to be back on the road, these sort of things don’t happen in Cusco.

Today’s ride was the easiest yet, magic gradient downhill with a following breeze and only 40km. Near the end, we passed pre-Inca Pillakta which shows where the Incas got their stonework skills from. Other discoveries in Andahuaylillas include the fact that the red tap in the shower delivers ice-cold water whereas the blue one provides water which, though not cold, is enough below body temperature to make for a rather unsatisfying experience.

As usual, just when you think you’re up to date, something else comes along. This time in the form of a native Columbian lady who is temporarily running the hotel. As well as being s vegan and “qualified” alternative healer, she recites Native American poetry, speaks good English, is learning Quechua and has lived throughout Latin America. An interesting dinner companion then! We enjoyed listening to her comparisons of the populations of Peru, Ecuador and Bolivia though Andrew, who didn’t think much of  “A Hundred Years of Solitude” was not pleased to hear her eulogise this particular title! She managed to put a damper on my evening too by telling me, in a rather mystic manner, that I would be unsafe in Bolivia alone. Before and since, I’ve heard many other reports to the contrary so I’ll still be going but with a little nagging doubt in my head. Fingers crossed!

The following day, after our breakfast of a kind of mixed grain and banana porridge (prepared by the mystic – apparently this is all she eats), we were on the road again. Despite the uphill, once again we made excellent time to Sicuari;  a rather uneventful day though the destination was quite pleasant from Peruvian small-town standards. Undoubtedly the nicest place between Cusco and Puno though, as you’ll see, that’s not saying much.

 

02/10/0505/10/05 To Titicaca.


The only obstacle we could see between us and Titicaca was the 4300m Abra la Raya. Even that, we expected to be rather mellow. We rode most of the gentle incline (the road is alongside a river and railway after all!) with a Sicuanian for company. Actually Andrew did most of the talking – I find it rather hard to cycle uphill and talk at the same time. Besides, mystic woman is still worrying me.

Who better to allay these fears than some cycle tourists? That’s exactly who we found at the pass, two Argentines and a Spaniard doing the exact reverse of our route. One had loved Bolivia, the others didn’t. More conflicting opinion even from those who had shared the same experiences. Bolivia is beginning to appear a little like Marmite. Fortunately I’m a fan of Marmite.

To get back to Peru, since I’m still in it, we have just noticed that our room has a lampshade attached to the bedside table (but without any sort of lamp) and a naked bulb in the centre of the ceiling. I shouldn’t be surprised any more! We’ve discussed Peru this evening and the conclusion is that it’s a bit depressing. This last section has been particularly so. The scenery and the wildlife, one must accept are spectacular –vicuñas on the altiplano and snow-capped volcanoes are really something. The Inca ruins too, and the sheer extent of their civilisation can be breathtaking. On the other hand, Peruvians nowadays can be summed up in one word – apathetic. They live in hovels, dispose of their rubbish in their yard. They are content to “run” one of five identical shops on the dusty street to nowhere, never once thinking that if they made their nicer, painted, dusted, turned on the refrigerator, sold a wider range, made a new sign, even just smiled, more people might shop there. There is surely money to be made here if only someone, somewhere would take some initiative. In fact we have come across a few, Julio in Huaraz, Arturo in Lima and maybe one or two others. Not many given we’ve traversed the country for over six weeks.

Back at Abra la Raya, the Argentines informed us that there were four more English cyclists just ten minutes ahead of us. Of course we had to catch them, a task which turned out to be rather easy. Not only were they on day 3 (2?) of their tour and getting used to the bikes and the altitude, they also had an extraordinary amount of stuff. These guys hadn’t just packed the kitchen sink, they’d packed juggling balls. Nevertheless, the ride was easy and we were more than happy to have some company to Ayaviri, a town that displayed all of Peru’s worst habits.

It is interesting that this road should be so popular with cyclists. Its chief benefits are that it is between two major tourist draws and that it is essentially flat. Of course that could also be viewed as a negative. For us, it didn’t hold a candle to Nasca – Cusco; the scenery was average, the riding uneventful and the towns depressing. For some reason the driving was also markedly worse than we are used to. For reasons not entirely unrelated to these, we decided to ride straight through Juliaca to Puno, a prescient decision as Juliaca turned out to be a complete dump!

Once again, the riding was slightly dull, though improved by the stiff tailwind. Only two memories stand out, the sting-in-the-tail of a 200m climb before Puno, and meeting Swiss tandem tourers coming the other way.

Titicaca itself was initially a let down as well since where the road came alongside the “lake” as it appears on the map, the only view we had was of a cow on a mudflat. Fortunately, it has turned out that the lake is not totally empty and there is plenty of water elsewhere, you just have to know where to look.

For some reason, between Puno and Juliaca and further along the road to Bolivia, we encountered the worst traffic of the trip. Basically the drivers appear not to be able to see us and just drive two abreast in our lane.


Puno on the other hand was quite pleasant and we took a fun half-day trip to the floating islands amongst the reeds on the lake. Touristy, but quite unlike anything anywhere else. Leaving Puno, we decided to break the ride to Bolivia at Juli, described as the “Rome of the Americas”. I must say that whoever came up with that cannot possible have been anywhere near Rome. Basically the place was a total dump and one which we left at the earliest possible opportunity, Andrew even deciding to forsake breakfast to get on the road.


Bolivia

 

06/10/0509/10/05: Someplace like Bolivia


What a contrast then to arrive in Copacabana, not quite as fine a setting (or temperature) as its namesake but very nice nonetheless. The hotel was cheap and excellent, the internet rather pricey. In fact everything here is cheaper than even Peru, hopefully the internet will fall into line soon. I should by now have mentioned the Scrabble contest that has been going on where we could find a café with a set. The sets of course are Spanish, and there is a preponderance of vowels, not quite compensated by the addition of LLand RR8. Most exciting Ñ8  with which we were dying to write vicuña but never quite managed it. At one point I was missing only the A.

Anyway, I am 3-0 in the Scrabble series much to Andrew’s disgust. Unfortunately, our hotel in Copacabana didn’t have Scrabble, it did however have Chess, a game neither of us has played for at least 10 years. Final score 2-1 to me! Undisputed board game champion.

There are two other things to mention about Copacabana, firstly that it is the home of the Bolivian navy. Possibly the second most fearsome force on Lake Titicaca. One sign we saw proudly proclaimed “The ocean is ours by right, it is our duty to get it back.” Until then, they are stuck on the highest navigable lake in the world. At least they are safe from almost everyone else!

The second thing to mention is Isla del Sol. we took a touristy trip to this island which, with its spectacular cliffs and blue water was not dissimilar to an Aegean island. The only things missing were the olive trees and cicadas. The oxygen was rarer too. We were on the full day tour which meant a boat trip to one end and a 2-3 hour walk at the other. Andrew and I were blown away by the scenery which, spectacular in its own right, was even more so as it was so different from everything we had experienced to this point.

 

10/10/0513/10/05: La Paz


I am a little behind in my diarizing and have been since Cusco; however, today I think I’ll catch up. Everything has now changed as, this morning Andrew left for Santiago. So it is then that I am writing this sitting alone in a café. The first time this trip, but I’m sure not the last.

A café is a nice place to come and sit alone. It is certainly preferable to a hotel room and whilst I will clearly be eating alone for some time now, this is more out of necessity than choice. Restaurants aren’t good for single people. Cafés for some reason seem right. I can sit, sip and write in a pleasant environment, nice music, good smells and with good opportunities for people watching. There will be more of this!

Back to the story; Andrew’s final couple of days were a fitting send-off. Sunday 9th was utterly unproductive; we tried but we were thwarted by the fact that everything was closed. I was however able to find a barber’s (on a street of at least 20 barbers’ shops) and indulged in a haircut, beard removal including proper cutthroat shave and general follicular pampering. Only the moustache remained and I took that off this morning. I look normal again!

In marked contrast Monday and Tuesday were fully occupied by two trips with Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking, an Aussie-run company organising downhill trips around La Paz. Their major trip is down the world’s most dangerous road (calculated by percentage deaths I think) to Coroico. We took this trip yesterday and, though enjoyable, it was nothing compared to the riding we had the day before. It was a road, like many others we’d ridden though with bigger drops, clinging to a cliff-face. Interesting and an easy ride, but not really sensational.

Sensational on the other hand is exactly the word to describe the single-track trip. A real eye opener as to the possibilities on a mountain bike, particularly one with lots of suspension. The highlight for all was our final run, a route down and along some of the most incredible rock formations I’d ever seen, let alone ridden. The photos will have to do the talking as it was almost indescribable – the memories are there in our minds however and I will be doing some more of this some day!

I went for lunch with the four English guys/gals which was a very nice contrast to the sense of isolation that I felt with Andrew gone. We spent some time going over routes and I am pleased to say that they came round to my way of thinking! We have to wait a day for Phil’s wheel to be rebuilt, but the good company is certainly worth the wait. When you know you have plenty of time it is surprising how long you can spend without accomplishing terribly much.

So it is that I can leave this entry here – two days bumming around the altiplano doesn’t need much to be said.

 

14/10/0516/10/05: The altiplano


We’re currently camped on what must have been a lake bed some time ago. The landscape is slowly becoming even flatter and watercourses and lakebeds are dry and caked in salt, an indication of what is to come.

The ride from La Paz has been pretty easy, essentially flat and whilst the group (Juggernaut as I know them!) are slower than I am used to, they cover the distance in the end. It has been a pleasant though unexceptional ride across the altiplano on a good road. It is impressive that at nearly 4000m, the land can be this flat and I wonder how it was formed.

This is our second night of camping, broken by a stay in a hostel in Oruro. The first was fun, we played cards, ate well and generally had a good group camping experience. This time it’s a little wilder. We cooked and ate whilst watching a distant thunderstorm which was spectacular on the horizon. Now, fortunately after dinner, it is right above us and the heavens have just opened. This is what camping is all about, warm and dry and hopefully safe whilst experiencing the full force of nature. I just hope that it has passed by the morning, or indeed rather sooner because the rain and thunder at this volume will make sleep impossible.

It turns out that the thunder did pass but the rain turned to hail. My bathtub floor proved waterproof but had the strange effect of becoming a waterbed. The pots that had been left outside overnight revealed that over an inch of rain had fallen, most of it within half an hour.

 

17/10/0520/10/05: Washboard and salt


For me, riding has been pretty easy recently, particularly as I am much faster than the others on the bumpy dirt roads. It has been a flat ride with only the washboard and gravel to slow us down. Because the others are struggling a little, distances have been pretty low. It has been much less taxing than most days on the Divide and has reminded me of that ride frequently.

I have certainly enjoyed the “outdoors” element, we have camped almost exclusively (part choice, part necessity) which is something that I missed earlier in the trip. Much of the landscape has been very similar, flat altiplano but punctuated with some incredible vistas with salty stream beds, llamas and rock formations. The highlights have undoubtedly been the evenings; as the sun sets, there are amazing colours in all directions such that we have difficulty knowing where to look.

A few difficulties arose around Huari and Quillacas with respect to route-finding, mainly due to the map being utterly incorrect. Nevertheless we found our way to Santurio de Quillacas (confusing enough in itself, especially when there in a Santiago de Huari as well.) and the true road to Quillacas. How one can have two pairs of towns with the same names in the same place I can’t imagine. Daft!

We’ve made it to Incahuasi, a cactus-laden island in the middle of the Salar. This place is quite incredible but it did take some getting to! We had a headwind all the way across the (rather bumpier than expected) salt and speeds were down to around 12kph, rather less for the others. I arrived at around 6pm with Laura not far behind. We were able to drink some excellent cappuccino by a fire whilst the others straggled 10km away as night fell. They were not happy bunnies on arrival but have not yet appreciated that one can travel faster and in more comfort with less stuff!
Juggling balls are non-essential items.

The free refuge here is open only to independent travellers, mainly cyclists and is a warm room built into the rock with a big window over the Salar – exceptional. The restaurant is good and makes a great change from typical Bolivian fare. All-in-all an almost perfect stop-over. It’s all terribly photogenic and I’m pleased I bought a big memory card!

 

 

21/10/0522/10/05: Ten billion tons of salt


Whereas the day before was a battle against wind and bumps, yesterday was probably the perfect day on the Salar. We decided, mainly because three out of the five of us were knackered, to ride only 40km and to camp on the salt. This allowed a leisurely morning on lovely Incahuasi, eating well and taking yet more photos. All this before the tourists arrived in their jeeps.

A lady called Vicky is warden on the island and is one of those rare things – a Bolivian conservationist. She has done really well here, the tourist complex is small and non-intrusive and there are well-marked trails around the cactus forests. Tour groups are only permitted to lunch and all cars stay on the salt. Since there will only be a limited number of cyclists, we are not considered a major environmental burden and can stay – perfect!

Yesterday’s ride was also perfect. Clear blue sky, white (creamy!) salt, gentle following breeze, flat surface and no time pressure. We camped in the middle of nowhere. The temperature palpably dropped the moment the sun set, and it kept falling. We all stayed outside in sleeping bags to watch the stars and to wait for the ¾ moon to rise. All quite spectacular but very cold! The experience was worth it however and I still have all my toes, so no lasting damage. Tonight will be spent indoors in Uyuni and there, for the first time in a week I can shower! Smelly.

 

23/10/0526/10/05: Off to Argentina


For the second time in ten days, I said goodbye to friends today. Laura, Kirsty, Phil and Tom have been excellent company from La Paz. Unfortunately they are not fast on their bikes and needed to stay an extra day in Uyuni. Going at their speed, I would probably take an extra week to Jujuy where our paths part – more time than I can afford. Uyuni was really pleasant, small and backpackery. Pizza was superb as were the apple and banana pancakes for breakfast. There’s nothing to do though other than visit the Salar and there wasn’t much point in staying as I feel pretty good and fresh.

I will miss Laura the most. She and I were outsiders when the others talked about caving which is how they all know each other, and we also seemed to be the two who either complained less or suffered less on the bumpy roads. The constant complaints wound us both up as it really isn’t that bad and, after all, we all knew what we were letting ourselves in for! Hopefully I can persuade her to come mountain biking when we are next up in the Peaks or Lakes –Malin has always wanted another girl to ride with.

Today’s ride was pretty straightforward although 25km longer than expected. I had a strong following wind which helped and just rode steadily at 20kph until I reached Atocha, on the surface a really nice little mining town – I’ll check it out more later. Riding alone is certainly quicker than riding even with someone of equal speed and, barring roadblocks, I can see no reason not to reach Argentina in two days from here.

Famous last words! I am currently camped next to a railway line somewhere between Atocha and Tupiza. Not content with riding across the Salar, today I decided to add some real adventure to the trip.
I enjoyed my night in Atocha very much. Everyone was friendly; I ate at street stalls for dinner and breakfast and generally enjoyed the town’s relaxed vibe. Leaving apparently meant riding up a semi-dry river bed, sadly not quite dry enough and it went on and on and up and up. I struggled to make 10kph. At some point however I must have gone wrong because, after cresting a 4200m pass and going down the other side, I arrived at Tatasi, a town which according to my map is not on any road! I had been taking the largest track all day and there really didn’t seem to have been an alternative! Dead end. Back over the pass and, since I couldn’t find another road and the locals suggested it, I set off down the railway line.

There are some good things about riding along a railway, notably in this case, the fact that if I follow it far enough, I will arrive at Tupiza… It is also rather bumpy, has tunnels, bridges and of course trains. Actually I think that trains are the least of my worries as they travel incredibly slowly. Still, there are more than enough other obstacles to contend with. Apparently it is 50km to Tupiza (it was 100km this morning and I’ve ridden 75km – damn!) so it should be achievable tomorrow. Fingers crossed because I can’t wait for the paved roads in Argentina. Having just perused the map, I don’t have much time to spare either. I need to really motor for a couple of weeks.

Tupiza feels like heaven! I cycled a further 50 odd kilometres along my railway this morning and to tell the truth, I feel I’ve now done cycling along railway lines. The scenery was impressively wild-west, by far the closest approximation I’ve seen outside the USA – how did Butch and Sundance know to come here? Thorny though and I picked up a number of punctures in my Yak tyre, not yet fully patched. This is more of a problem than it might otherwise be as I gave my spare tube to Phil two days ago. Typical – my first ever Yak punctures just after I give away my spare.

I am now ensconced in a very nice room ( three beds) with shower for about £3. Luxury is cheap in Bolivia when you can get it! The restaurant is also good, lots of veggie food and the coke at the correct temperature! Argentina tomorrow? I’m not making any more predictions.


Argentina

 

27/10/0530/10/05: Civilisation!


Argentina may not be the wealthiest country in the world but in terms of stark differences, that between Villazon in Bolivia and La Quiaca in Argentina must be among the most striking. The road in Bolivia was truly awful for the last 50km, probably the worst washboard I’ve ever ridden on. Maybe it was made worse by the absurdness of it – this is the main Argentina-Bolivia border – and the proximity of tarmac. Surely Bolivian trade and tourism would benefit if they paved this! I was worried about roadblocks, there was no need. Well, I made it after a fairly punishing 100km and am pretty tired. Not sure quite how to break up the next section as it is slightly too long for three days, too short for four. I’m currently at a petrol station in Abra Pampa which the Lonely Planet correctly describes as a “forlornly windy place”! The gas station is fine, even with proper coffee but this is not really the place to stay. I’m going to have a bit of a rest here before riding on.

Well it’s funny how things work out, I was tired and decided to stay in Abra Pampa, discovered that there were no rooms, and ended up riding another 85km to Humahuaca. The Quebrada de Humahuaca was not as impressive as I’d hoped; some colourful rocks but generally as dry and desolate as everything else in the past month or so. Approaching Jujuy (Hu-huee) the next day however, things became more verdant. The road from Jujuy to Salta was a delight; it drizzled but I didn’t care at all, even welcomed it for the change. The vegetation was lush, the road closed to most traffic (there is an alternative dual-carriageway) and I enjoyed every minute. It almost felt like being back home. Silly what you want after being away for this long! Actually, I don’t want to go back home yet but there are definitely things I miss – the grass in this case really is greener.

 

31/10/0503/11/05: Sand and vineyards


It’s been a funny day. If, at 4pm, you’d happen to have been driving along a bumpy dirt section of Ruta 40, near Hualfin, you’d have passed a slightly inebriated cyclist singing “Pourquoi me reveiller” from Massenet’s Werther. Fortunately for them no-one did happen to be driving along at that time. This is how it happened:

Yesterday, I rode from Cafayate, a pretty (probably the prettiest yet) wine town, white buildings, plush vineyards and clearly some money. I rode south on Ruta 40, the big red line on my map, and all of a sudden it turned to dirt. Now this section only lasted 5km (why?!) but it raised the possibility that there’d be more. Tourist information told me that it was unpaved all the way to Belen, 160km away – fortunately they were wrong as the first 90km were nicely paved. Then dirt again! In order to relieve the boredom of yet more scrubby desert, I listen to my mp3 player which, occasionally on this trip has been an absolute godsend – this was one of those days, 120km and unsure what the road was like. This time Werther kept me company.

10km into the dirt and with 100km under my belt, I happened upon a bar (the only one in 100km) and it happened to be open. A bottle of coke and a surprising number of unrequested glasses of beer later, I rolled out the door with 20km to cycle, a promise to send a post card from London and a tune in my head!

I’m safely in a hostel in Hualfin, so no worries there and it must be said that that two hour “conversation” in Spanish made my day. Just as things were getting on top of me (the road), something happens to make it all worthwhile. They don’t know why this section of road is unpaved by the way, and think that since vast wealth gets dug out of the ground just there in the form of copper and gold, it ought to be.

 

 

04/11/05 – /8/11/05: More of the same


These days are beginning to merge into one now. I’ve been riding some big distances through desert, mostly on pavement, but from time to time, some dirt is thrown in, usually on a “Cuesta”, which seems to indicate a hill.

Fortunately, these cuestas do break up the monotony of the desert straight roads, and tend to follow spectacular gorges up and over the mountain ridges. In this way I have already begun my journey westwards and back over the Andes. The days have been long, mainly because the towns are widely spaced here and while it would certainly be possible to camp wild by the road, there doesn’t seem much point. I’m on my own, the scenery is not that special (not any more, anyway) and getting to a town means better food, easy water and a shower. It also provides somewhere to while away the evening. Although I’m alone, I’m not lonely this way; there are people to talk to, there’s TV, internet, the phone. I’ve also now finished Crime & Punishment which would make a desert camp even less entertaining. I should be able to find something new in Mendoza.

Mendoza has been the goal for so long now that it is strange to think that I can actually reach it! It is now only 200km away however, which is just possible in two days, it may be three.

 

09/11/0511/11/05: Trail magic in San Juan


I’m now sitting in a café in San Juan, all very chic and pleasant. Quite a change from yesterday’s gruelling ride through the desert. It wouldn’t have been so gruelling if there had been anything to see or do en route. More importantly, if there had been anywhere to stop and sit. Preferably with a cold drink. As it was there were no towns at all for 150km, no shade, no nothing. Stopping riding for even a minute meant instantly being covered by hundreds of flies; a good incentive to keep moving if ever there was one. What do all these flies do in the desert when there’s no one to pester? Do they just sit and wait for a passing cyclist? Why am I so attractive?
 
Anyway, finally arriving at San Juan and shortly after the long-awaited first shady gas-station, I was passed by a truck full of mountain bikers. They were still in full bike regalia and gave me an apple as they drove past. Then they stopped and Luis who had been driving came out with something like “what’s up bro?” This rather more (less?) advanced English than I was used to came as a bit of a shock. It turned out that he’d been a cycle courier in New York, has a Scottish girlfriend, had toured my route and wondered if I needed somewhere to stay. I, of course accepted! Later it turned out that he is also a vegetarian, a rare breed indeed in Argentina. It’s a funny world.

This stroke of luck made my mind up on whether to stay for a day in San Juan, something I’d been toying over for some time. I stayed and was extremely well looked after by my hosts. We didn’t really do much, but after a month with just one day off the bike, that didn’t matter one iota. My arse was certainly thankful for the rest; all those miles on the flat had started to get uncomfortable.

I think that I was more tired than I imagined because my ride from San Juan to Mendoza, though the longest yet at 176km was a much easier affair than the ride into San Juan. It helped a great deal that there were regular gas stations en route where I could get some cold liquid and sit in the shade but I also noticed that my legs had more in them.
The chances to rest and cool down are a godsend given that temperatures are now over 40۫ C at times.

 

 

12/11/0515/11/05: Mendoza and the Andes again


I had another day off in Mendoza; I’m being spoilt! It’s not really so different to any other city around here but it’s nice enough. There are a few tourists around and, importantly it gave me the chance to do some laundry, the first machine wash in a month, and to buy an English book. I had a choice of five titles and ended up with “South”, Ernest Shackleton’s account of his failed attempt to cross Antarctica. So far it’s very good.

It is a little warmer here in Mendoza, shorts and tee-shirt are appropriate right through the night and I’ve enjoyed eating out on the pavement. I also managed to watch England vs. Argentina football which rather remarkably, we won! Fortunately the general vibe here is entirely peaceful and I was quite safe.
I’ve now left Mendoza behind and am heading inexorably upwards towards the Chilean border. My last country! The trip is beginning to enter its final stages though there are still two months left and many of the best bits still to come. I have quite definitely though passed the “end of the beginning”. Not quite the beginning of the end I guess either.

My first day out of Mendoza was quite literally a breeze. I missed the short-cut between RN40 and RN7 and decided it was best just to head to the junction. The map is not good for detailed directions, but then it does cover the whole of a very big country. I was fortunate to have the tailwind as my distance to Uspallata had now extended to over 120km with a considerable climb. Indeed I met a German cyclist coming down who told me that it was impossible; but then he is carrying enough water to allow him to shower. I was there quite comfortably at about 4.30pm.

There was a breeze the next day too. More of a gale really and straight at my face. I had left the exceptionally nice camp at Uspallata (shaded by poplars, views of snow-capped peaks and a Dutch/English couple who gave me beer!) rather later than hoped and was on several occasions blown right off the bike.  Progress was slow, half the speed of the day before but I reminded myself that this was nothing compared with Shackleton’s experiences!

The spectacular views helped of course and tired, but not unhappy, I reached the ski town of Puenta de Inca and decided that this was enough. I had hoped to make it a further 15km to Las Cuenas but the legs thought otherwise. This probably means an extra day to Santiago but it doesn’t really matter, I like the mountains more than the city. I’ll also arrive in Santiago much earlier in the day, a good thing since I have no guide or even map of the city. Attempts to acquire them in Mendoza were fruitless. To Chile!

Well the headwind persisted but the 20km to the tunnel were so spectacular that it barely mattered. Right in between a series of 6000m peaks with snow all around and occasional glimpses of Aconcagua itself. Marvellous.

They put me in a pickup to get through the tunnel; I think it is rather good that they drive your bike across for free and everyone else has to pay!


Chile

The Chilean side was, if possible, even more spectacular with huge waterfalls cascading down the cliffs. Anywhere else, just one of them would have warranted a tourist attraction, here they just lined the roadside. Gradually the snow gave way to verdant river valleys and the temperature went from very cold to very hot. I am fortunate to have found a campground right by the turn off to Santiago so don’t need to detour into Los Andes itself. All in all a spectacular day, I wish they were all like this but I suppose that would make it ordinary. The sight of all that snow and the ski resorts (recently closed for the off-season) has made me want to go skiing which is funny because last ski trip I distinctly recall wanting to go riding in the same hills!

The ride from Los Andes to Santiago took me through another tunnel and I was delighted to receive the same pickup treatment. The ride itself was surprisingly hilly and in reality, would have been extremely tough tagged onto yesterday’s descent. The scenery remained impressive though the road eventually became a dual-carriageway. As I would discover, riding along a dual-carriageway is easy; there is a wide shoulder, good surface and they are usually relatively flat. It is, however, boring. There is no longer any interaction with surroundings natural or human, which are removed from you by means of concrete and a crash-barrier. However impressive the mountains in the distance are, they remain just that, at a distance. One motorway is much like any other.

Santiago too, is rather like any other city. The difference is that I hadn’t been in a city for quite some time. This is the most similar place to home that I have been in three months. I enjoyed shopping and eating in familiar places and was able to but copies of The Independent and the Economist to catch up on some of the news I’d missed.

Happy House Hostel deserves a mention as probably the nicest place I’d stayed so far. Other than that, once the excitement of familiarity wore off, there wasn’t much to do. I went up the nearby hill by funicular and then remembered the one thing that I really had intended to do in Santiago and that somehow I’d forgotten in my quest to buy the Lonely Planet and some English books. I wanted to buy an engagement ring.

This is something that I’ve been thinking about for a while and though it didn’t seem sensible proposing and then disappearing on a five month bicycle trip, to do it when Malin comes out in a couple of months seems right. I hope she thinks so too! I also wondered whether I needed a ring, but I think that if one is to be romantic at any time then proposing is that time; it wouldn’t seem right without a ring.

As I’ve discovered, decent jewellers aren’t two-a-penny in South America. Even in Santiago, they are hard to find. Not the sort of thing listed in the LP either. Well I found one in Provedencia and am now trying to keep what I think is a nice ring safe. One more thing to worry about and now something with a sentimental value too.
The ride to Rancagua was not exciting; more motorway and I could feel just how tired I was. A deep tiredness from the previous hard month that was showing itself now because after so many long days, I’d now had a couple of easy ones. The combination of these two factors crossed my mind and almost immediately I decided to get a bus down this section of the Panamericana.

 

20/11/0524/11/05: Big fat rain


What I should have done before getting on the bus was to check the weather-forecast. In Temuco it was raining, and it has barely stopped since. The fact that this much rain is quite un-seasonal is not of much consolation.

I wanted to ride a loop through Park Nationals Conguillo  and Villarrica which would take around 5-6 days and put me in Villarrica with a couple of days to spare before seeing Malin. Maybe I could do some kayaking, or climb the volcano.

In the event, I rode one day in the pouring, constant rain to Cunco and ended up with everything drenched. It was obvious that to continue like this would not only be miserable, it would be profitless too. It is impossible to see anything with the rain like this, so I might as well be riding in England. The thought of camping is impossible. I cut my losses in Cunco and rode straight to Villarrica. The rain wasn’t so bad and occasionally clear, blue sky gave a tantalising glimpse as to how nice it might be under different conditions. Then the rain would come pouring down again. I still haven’t seen the fabled volcanoes.

 

25/11/0530/11/05: Villarica


I sat out the rain in Torres Suiza Hostel, run by a rather odd Swiss couple of ex-cycle tourists. It wasn’t a perfect place but pleasant enough and cheap. I had four days where I did nothing but read and hope the rain cleared. One evening we took a trip to some thermal baths. Much needed relaxation this far down the “long and winding road”.

My two days of exercise involved a nice bike ride sans Yak and a trip to climb the volcano. This was a great experience and a real change from the rest of the trip. In reality, despite the snow which covered the whole route, this was a long, hard walk. We started at 1400m, grabbed an ice-axe and donned our crampons. Quite an experience, especially as this is an active volcano. The sulphur fumes at the top choke when you take a deep breath and the wind is in the wrong direction. On the return, we slid most of the way on our bottoms, ice-axe for control. Needless to say, getting down was faster than going up. I don’t think I’ll be taking up mountaineering any time soon, it is a bit too much trudging up, walking line-astern. Of course, the really exciting stuff is rather dangerous too. On the other hand, as a one-off, this was great.

After not nearly enough rest following the climb, I packed my stuff up and today rode to Panguipulli. Yesterday’s weather was good, the volcano was cloud-free but cloud blocked much of the view. Today’s weather was even better and I could enjoy looking up at yesterday’s summit as I rode round the base. I could see two other volcanoes as well and managed to include four lakes on my ride as well. The lake-district is beginning to live up to its billing.
One nice feature of staying put for a while is that you meet people. I spent the time with two adventure-racing Brazilians, a Swiss girl and her son, two Swiss travelling by car, a New York medical student and a couple of serial cycle tourers from NZ in their fifties. I’m back on my own for only two days now, then Malin will arrive. I can’t wait.

 

 

30/11/0506/12/05: Two’s company


Well it’s all change again, I had the sun for the first time in a while for my trip from Villarrica. The whole area is quite different seen in this light! Beautiful blue lakes reflecting the sky and a series of perfect conical volcanoes, including the one I’d just been up. I stayed at Panguipulli having taken a longer, more scenic route to get there. It was one of my favourite towns so far (perhaps helped by the weather). Great views of lake and volcano, making the most of its setting unlike Villarrica. I had an excellent lasagne in a tiny Italian place which also added to the good memories.

The next day couldn’t really hope to live up to the three lakes and four volcanoes of the day before but it was an excellent route to get into Valdivia. There are two paved roads from the panamericana to Valdivia but I took a dirt track west of Los Lagos. With almost no traffic, I followed a turquoise river through lush fields.

Valdivia itself was a pleasant town whose memorable features will be the sea-lions at the fish market and that it is the place that I asked Malin to marry me. I’m pleased to say that she said yes! She arrived safe and sound from the UK although had managed to shed a number of ball-bearings from her headset en-route. After solving that little problem and taking in the sights (sea-lions and botanic garden), I gave her the ring.

All very exciting and now we have even more to talk about. We were already discussing where to live, where to work, PhD or no PhD, house-buying etc. Now we have wedding: where? When? Who to invite? And a whole host of others.

The weather has been mixed since leaving Valdivia, sometimes rain, sometimes sun, mostly cloud and sometimes all three at once. Fortunately the rain-showers are short-lived and we have often been able to shelter at a bus stop for the worst. Malin can her gear (i.e. the things I don’t already have) in two panniers and we are quite evenly matched in terms of speed like this. In La Union we stayed in a huge Germanic hotel; the next night in Entre Lagos we had a beautiful view from a cabin by the lake.

This was a memorable spot after the fairly mundane couple of days to get there.  Since they didn’t have a free room, they gave us a cut-price rate on a big cabin which could have slept eight. Dinner was also excellent at a restaurant with a lake view. Today the sun is shining and we are back in the lakes proper- much more interesting than the flat farmland and eucalyptus plantations by the coast.

We rode out from Entre Lagos under some clear blue sky, a little sorry to say goodbye to our beautiful lakeside cabin. Breakfast was pretty good too! Fortunately Lago Rupanco was also pretty though we only got a passing glimpse. The majority of the day was farmland, made more interesting by the many ibis and other birds in the wet grass. Approaching Lago Llanquihue (?) the clouds had rolled in which was a pity, as Volcan Osorno had its top half hidden. Never mind, there are plenty more volcanoes to come.

We stopped in Las Cascadas at another excellent, yet very different accommodation option. This time it was rustic simplicity to follow up the fading grandeur of the hotel and beautiful setting of the cabin. There was a garden full of flowers, a vegetable garden, chickens, puppies and a very friendly hostess. At breakfast in Entre Lagos, the owner had boasted that all the food was grown locally (with the exception of the tea). This hostess went one better, it was all from her garden. By this time it was raining again and very cold in the absence of any heating; we were delighted then with our super-thick duvet which must have had a tog rating of about 50!

 

07/12/0511/12/05: Off to Park Pumalin


Another great breakfast, this time with enough toast to feed an army and we set off.  We were fortunate to have only drizzle for the first section, a dirt road to Ensenada. This may have even benefited from the drizzle as it passed through dense, unspoilt rainforest with occasional lake vistas. One of the most beautiful rides so far. Of course, had the day been clear, we’d have seen the hulking volcano we were riding around and that might have made it more spectacular still.

Then it rained again. We should have expected it really since it has rained every day so far but Malin in particular was unimpressed and felt that it oughtn’t to have done. It carried on raining for most of our stay in Puerto Varas so we haven’t much of an opinion on it but it is a glitzy resort town, complete with casinos and unimpressive hostals, one of which we found ourselves in. To make it worse, we were sharing a kitchen with Israelis who generally aren’t good people to share anything with. In reality, it wasn’t all that bad, just not as good as we were used to – a sure sign we were back on the tourist trail.

Twenty dull kilometres later and we’re in Puerto Montt to sort everything out. We need to organise ferries, decide whether to go to Chiloe, work out my trip home. Of course, this being Thursday 8th December, there is a public holiday and all services are closed. We find one travel agent who tells us that ferries to Chaiten on the Carretera Austral, leave at noon on Fridays, so we check into a nice hotel and go to the ferry terminal when it opens at 5pm. The ferry goes that evening at 10pm they say. It turns out we’re not the only ones deceived by the travel agent, he even tried to sell tickets to some people on the non-existent noon sailing.

It was a shame to leave our comfortable hotel for a night on a ferry, especially after paying £20 for it, quite a bit round here, but Puerto Montt had very little going for it and the Carretera Austral had quite a lot.

Malin in particular took an instant dislike to Puerto Montt. The combination of being a port town and an occasional cruise ship stop over whilst at the same time providing land transport in all directions gives it that unpleasant air that frontier towns and ports share. For my part, I didn’t mind it so much; I’ve been in far worse places in the last four months.

Anyway, the boat was an experience in itself.  Perhaps to aid access to the lifejackets, most of the seats were missing and most of those that weren’t had been claimed. Still, we found ourselves a little corner for the night and watched an odd mix of travellers, locals and truckers before crawling into sleeping bags for some fitful sleep. Fortunately, arrival in Chaiten proved we’d made the right decision. It was tiny and very pretty. Everything, air included, felt clean and fresh although a little damp. It rains a lot here.

Our plan was to ride north for a day into Park Pumalin, spend a day there and then to ride south back through Chaiten and off down the Carretera Austral. Pumalin is a huge private conservation initiative owned by Douglas Tomkins, a U.S. billionaire. Bizarrely, his great efforts to pump millions into Chilean conservation and ecotourism have met stiff resistance from the government and locals who, initially at least, seemed sceptical about his motives. Relations are better now and the park, it seemed to us, is a remarkable success. Everything is well done, from the beautiful wooden signs to the covered camp areas and well maintained trails. This infrastructure though, barely scratches the surface of the park so the primary conservation goal remains true.

We enjoyed a beautiful, solitary camp by a lake, walked to see the Alerces, rare, old and very tall trees; then we took a longer walk, more of a climb to several of the most impressive waterfalls I’ve ever seen. So much water because it rains so much, yet today it was clear blue sky and blazing sunshine. Lucky us! Malin wants to point out that she crossed several extremely scary bridges all by herself… I just thought they were nicely done and imaginative ways to cross some streams.

We moved camp for our second night in order to avoid the long trail that lead down to our lakeside. It wasn’t as pretty but it was still rather nice and a great deal more convenient. The blue sky remained for our ride back to Chaiten, revealing a spectacularly pointed volcano which we’d completely missed in the cloud of the first day. It was one off those sights that stops you in your tracks; I’ve had quite a number on this trip but they’re coming thick and fast at the moment.

One thing we never encountered was the “very difficult, heavy” terrain which some Italians we’d met on the first day assured us would be a taxing ride. Malin thinks that they’re Bianchi road riders at home and I’m inclined to agree. As dirt roads go, this one scores 9/10 for easy riding in my book. A good job they’re not in Bolivia.

We enjoyed Pumalin very much but I felt there was something a little surreal about it. A bit like the national parks in the States, this is tamed wilderness. You get running water, picnic tables, even covered campsites! Back in Chaiten, we’re enjoying one more luxurious Pumalin day at the Puma Verde hostal run by the park organisation. It is beautifully stylish although the low ceiling does rather make me feel I’m still in the tent. Since no-one collected any money from us in the park, we felt everyone gained if we paid £35 for this lovely room.

 

12/12/0517/12/05: Carretera Austral for real


Things have returned a little more to normality; yes, this lifestyle really is normality for me now after four months. We are once again cycling south and back in the real Chilean south, not the utopian Pumalin version. Things are rather different, much of the land by the roadside is farmed and there are settlements dotted every 50km or so. Nevertheless, it is clear that man’s impact is pretty much limited to a thin slither along the road. There is a vast untouched wilderness down here. It’s inaccessible for many reasons: the mountains, the steep rock walls, glaciers, snow, fjords, islands and, presumably because the logical routes to most places are through Argentina, few roads have been built.

It rains a lot here, even by English standards. 4000mm a year and there isn’t really an off-season. Lady luck has been on our side however, and we’ve had beautiful clear blue skies for over a week. I might take this opportunity to point out that our luck has run out and I am writing this in a tent with the rain streaming down.

We’ve been riding about 50km a day, give or take and the road surface has been excellent. There is little traffic and by now, we (sadly) have become numbed to the standard sensational vistas of snow-capped volcanoes, lush forests and waterfalls. It takes something really spectacular to make us stop and stare. Fortunately there are plenty of those too.

Our one break from our routine of camping, usually at an appropriate spot by the roadside, came in Puerto Puyuhapi, a pleasant village at the end of a long inlet. Chile’s most famous hot springs are nearby so it is geared up for tourists. We enjoyed the sun and the facilities though the hot springs didn’t tempt us at $150 for a room.

Our next stop at Ventisquero Colgante, a large hanging glacier was only a short ride away, fortunate as Malin’s tummy is giving her grief. We managed the considerable climb up to the glacier though and enjoyed yet another view of something neither of us had seen before. A huge waterfall came off the glacier but seemed to turn to snow half way down, somewhat like a snow cannon.

Sadly, Malin has been ill today too, the stomach is still not normal and she is weak from not eating. We decided to get a lift but after an hour and a half of fruitless waiting, she either got bored or felt better and we cycled 30km, putting us in range of the next town. She did rather well considering we had the biggest climb yet in our way. The weather has now turned and we are camped in the rain at the top of the pass. It must be said that the view of the other side of the valley falls into the “stop and stare” category. It is amazing. Hopefully (though I’m not holding much of it), we may have a rain-free morning to enjoy it.

If not we will have to hope for better weather as we descend. That may be a more reasonable prayer.

 

18/12/0525/12/05: Alone to the end of the world


Well Malin entered into a bit of survival mode and, I’m sure didn’t really appreciate the remarkable scenery even the next morning. Of course, it was still raining though not so much as last night. Later, we asked other travellers and found it always rained up there. I was beginning to suspect as much.

Descending, things brightened quite a bit and I definitely got the feeling that Malin was over the worst. It was clear that she was still concerned about catching her flight but I felt that we should have plenty of time. After a little persuasion she agreed to stop at Villa Amengual, a tiny town with a real frontier feel. We stayed in the centre, quite literally. Our hospedaje also functioned as a family home, restaurant, bar, supermarket and as the village meeting place. All in all it worked out really well. Malin could rest comfortably for a whole afternoon and we had everything we needed. The sun came out too and we had a pleasant stroll around the village. It didn’t take long. Other entertainment came in the form of some distorted Christmas carols on some loudspeakers outside the school. Later there was a football match on a field that was really rather too small for the number of players. Didn’t they have enough land for a bigger one? Maybe there was none flat enough.

Rested and with much more energy, we rode off in the direction of Cohaique, hoping to make the distance in two days. 130km so quite do-able if the health holds up. We also knew that 100km were paved. Or at least we thought we knew. We had decided to have our lunch once we reached the pavement, however 10km beyond the expected point we still hadn’t found it and, which was worse, the road surface had deteriorated considerably. We pitied the Italians who no doubt felt this was extremely “heavy” stuff and wondered whether it was so bad because they were soon going to pave it and couldn’t be bothered with repairs. Certainly it looked as if the bridges were all being upgraded.

We had our lunch by a river and, of course 150m later down the road the pavement began. As these things do in South America, it just started absolutely in the middle of nowhere for no rhyme or reason. Maybe the money ran out.

We made good time and ended up doing 89km despite a nasty headwind. Now we’re well within sight of Cohaique tomorrow. It’s much better being healthy!

I was rather sad on our last camp; I’ve loved having Malin out here but her three weeks have gone so fast and it was such a short segment of the complete trip. Maybe one day we’ll do a long trip together, I certainly don’t think I’ll do another one without her. Short though they’ve been, the three weeks have been rather special. Getting engaged and then having so much time together, alone and without the normal distractions of work and commitments at home was wonderful. Something like a honeymoon is supposed to be I imagine. Clearly we had much to talk about; wedding venues, times, organisation, who to invite, where we’d like to live, where to work. We’ve held off deciding just how many children for now, but they will be bilingual…

All good things must come to an end, and this was no different. Fortunately I’ll see her again in 3 weeks rather than the four months on our last parting. The scenery changed as we climbed to Cohaique, becoming drier and largely farmed. Recent logging was evident everywhere, the price you pay for civilisation. Intriguingly there were thousands of very pretty flowers, not seen before and which my botanist informs me are lupins (shortly after labelling them laburnum!)

I caught a bus, a long bus. 1500km to Punta Arenas although the more direct route is 1000km. Bizarrely, when I tried to take my seat post out to fit the bike on, it got stuck and now all the twisting, pulling, wrenching, hammering and shouting that I can muster won’t budge it. I spent the better part of Christmas Day engaged on this mission which, to sum up, resulted in abject failure. All I’ve achieved is to get it stuck an inch too high.

It really won’t budge now, and reasoning that I don’t have far to go now and that I might break something soon, I’ve decided to try to ride it as it is. It’s uncomfortable but manageable; hopefully I’ll be able to complete my ride though.

This was certainly an unusual way to spend Christmas and as it is a little lonely out here, it was great to speak to Malin, Mum and Dad. She arrived home today, everything intact. Later I managed to set up a call from Andrew. This is the first time I’ve spoken to him since La Paz and, of course we had a lot to talk about: my ride, his job, my engagement, all the news from home, particularly as Lex got married last weekend. By all accounts a snowy success. Contact with home made my day and I am very much looking forward to returning. I do wonder at the type of person who does  this on a long scale. The five year round-the-world type ride. Granted, this is normally a couple but I can only imagine that they don’t have a great deal to hold them at home. I’m glad that I do! This isn’t like moving abroad either; all friendships are transient, you spend your time speaking a foreign language, or bad English, you are always moving on, you are essentially out of contact. Living abroad at least gives you a phone number and address; people might come and visit. Not here! Thank God for e mail, which as I’ve said before, is a real lifeline and available more-or-less everywhere.

My one treat today was my Christmas present from Malin, a Christmas pudding. Now I’m not usually the biggest fan of Christmas pud but today it was special. I wasn’t able to source brandy butter in Punta Arenas but it went down very nicely with cream and some Chilean wine. As a treat I bought a real bottle rather than the usual tetra-pak.

The pudding was obviously particularly memorable because it was my only truly English food for five months. It served as a reminder of home, of where I’m from, and where I’ll be going back to. Of course it brought back memories of Christmases past, particularly the one in which Mum burnt the pud. I was very careful with the microwave instructions! I’ve rarely had a more appreciated gift.

 

26/12/0529/12/05: Tierra del Fuego

Boxing day passed much as Christmas Day had done and I was delighted to get a call from Fraser as well. He was at home in Elgin, which as he astutely pointed out, is a very long way from here. He had an atlas to help him. He seemed very excited to have me back, maybe he needs someone to drag him out biking at weekends. The 2006 fitness regime is about to kick in, let’s hope that it is more successful than 2005, and indeed 2004!

I successfully arranged a trip to Isla Magdelena and Isla Marta for the 27th, leaving at 7;15am. Gasp! That means am alarm clock, the first in months. 

Well it was worth the disturbed sleep. The morning was beautiful and the Magellan Strait dead calm which, I imagine, is a rarity. It was a good thing too as the Zodiac inflatable we were in could have been pretty wet.

The reason for the early trip in the boat? One word, penguins. 64,000 pairs of them on Isla Magdelena and at this time of year they have some rather grown-up chicks too. These are Megallenic Penguins and they were brilliant. They really are remarkably human-like in their actions, actually more clown-like. They waddle, flippers out for balance on their clumsy little legs. When they have a short drop to negotiate, they do a two-footed hop, often falling flat on their bellies. They’re absurd to watch and I laughed out loud. In the water though they are quite different. They float very low with just their heads out and are very much in, rather than on the water. They bob about like this very happily but can also do a fast swim in which they leap out of the water like a dolphin travelling at a remarkable rate. In fact, until a saw a seal a couple of hours later, I’d never seen anything as fast in the water – they look like a bouncing torpedo.

The visit wasn’t long enough since one could watch all day, but we moved on to Isla Marta and its seal and sea-lion colony. We couldn’t land but floated amid these impressive animals as they churned up the water and generally appeared to be lazing away their morning either floating or basking on the beach. They seemed to have fights pretty regularly though what about I’ve no idea. It was surprising that the seals could throng around the much larger lions with no ill effects.

I took the ferry to Porvenir, Tierra de Fuego. Land of fire, named by Magellan after the fires lit by the natives to keep warm. Darwin was disparaging about both its inhabitants and its landscape – unfortunate then that its mountains are named after him. I wanted to see it for myself though predictably, the natives are long-gone.

That Porvenir, pop. 4200 is Chilean Tierra de Fuego’s largest town should perhaps tell you something! There’s not much here. A few of those who are here seem rather well off however and that can be explained by the prominent feature of the landscape, sheep.

Large estancias are spread across the island surrounded by large tracts of land and their woolly friends. I was fortunate to have another lovely day with very little wind; a rarity here as the trees testify. The few that exist are devoid of any branches on the westward side, those that sprout there have been bent permanently around the trunk and the whole thing has an incredibly windswept, lopsided appearance.

I was delighted when I saw my first guanaco and thus completed my quadrilogy of South American quadrupeds. Llama, alpaca, vicuña and guanaco. At least the sheep don’t have it all their own way. One other aspect of wildlife that I haven’t yet mentioned is the birds. Since entering the southern cone, there have been incredible numbers of birds about which I, sadly know nothing. One thing I’d do if I repeated the trip would be to learn something about these birds, I’m sure that any bird-watcher would have loved it.

Other than that, there is remarkably little here, just undulating grassland. It’s not flat, I’ve seen flat this trip and this isn’t it. As the White Queen might remark, I’ve seen flat plains compared with which these are mountains. Speaking of mountains, the ride out of Porvenir had incredible views over the Magellan Strait to the snow fields of the southern Andes on the other side.


Argentina

I’ve now crossed the island to San Sebastian, Argentina and the view is that of the South Atlantic. It’s not far to go now, and everyone knows it. I get encouraging cheers and honks from all the passing vehicles. They know that no matter where you began, Ushuaia is the end – there’s nowhere further to go.

What Jerome K. Jerome might have written:

I rode into Cohaique with a certain sense of satisfaction, my carefully prepared bicycle had held up to 8000km of rough travel. I was pleased with myself, for most men undertaking such endeavours have trouble with their machine at some time or other.

The bicycle must have overheard me because it determined to teach me a lesson. I attempted to remove the seat post to put it on the bus and initially it seemed rather stiff. I was not to be put off by this since I knew that there was no reason for it to be stuck. I’d greased it carefully before assembling it. Well, I wrestled with it and twisted and pulled for a full five minutes and had moved it an inch. There it stuck fast and refused to go any further. I got angry and shouted at it and tugged and pulled but it didn’t like my tone and resisted. I tried talking sweetly to it, but it just laughed and stayed put.

At length a small crowd had gathered and a number of the men believed they had an idea which could assist me. One after the other they grappled with it, sometimes several at once. They twisted and pulled, at times sitting astride it, at times trying to stand on it. It got angry with them too and upset them by throwing them on the floor and landing on them. Then they argued with each other as to who should have the right to try his idea, which he was sure would free it in an instant. When, after ten minutes of struggling he’d only wedged it in harder, he’d slink off and pretend to fiddle with his luggage.

Quite a crowd of onlookers cheered each new attempt and they forgot themselves and missed their buses. Then they got angry with me for having distracted them, and it might had come to blows had I not been rescued by my bus driver who fit it in the bus seat and all.

 

 

30/12/0504/01/06: The end of the road


I’m sitting in what is surely one of the nicest restaurants I’ve been in on the trip. All the more surprising since it’s in Rio Grande which is not in the top 10 of towns. Actually it’s probably in the bottom five. There’s nothing unsavoury about the place but it is incredibly boring! Evidently the inhabitants make up for it when they dine. I’ll be here for a while since I have a litre of beer for company. It is in a champagne cooler, so no reason to rush! Unless thing have changed in London since I left, I believe that a litre for about £1.20 in a fancy restaurant is not a price I’m going to see again any time soon. More’s the pity although obviously to the Argentine it is not especially cheap since it is basically a result of devaluing the peso from one to the dollar to about three now.

London, it’s beginning to become reality again now – I’ll be home in ten days time. Emotions are mixed but largely one of excitement. Isn’t it funny how the grass is always greener? I spent so long planning this and now I can’t wait to get back. The point is, of course that it provides a point of reference, something to compare things to and I firmly believe that a trip like this doesn’t end when you return. I won’t have fully taken it in for a number of months I suspect. It helps as well that Ushuaia is a clear end point; this was something I wanted when planning the trip, there’ll be no standing wondering what’s further down the road.

One thought that’s occurred to me over and over since I first started meeting those that don’t is that I’m so glad I’ve something to be happy about returning to. Imagine not having ties to home or to anywhere else. Only yourself, and often a spouse to travel the world with. It’s alluring in some respects but I think that what is lost is not made up for by the benefits. This is personified for me most of all by Eve (Yves?) in Huaraz who had “slept for three years on the streets in Nicaragua”. He was a real tragic-comic figure who believed he enjoyed his lifestyle. I think that he just couldn’t come up with a viable alternative. It’s probably better than sleeping on the streets at home. He was Belgian.

Another couple that spring to mind are Beat and Claudia at Torres Suiza in Villarrica. They cycled round the world for two and a half years and then just stopped in Villarrica and set up home and started a family. Why there? Stranger still, it is clear that Claudia in particular hadn’t explored the area within 100km of their house. They are on the doorstep, more or less, of the Careterra Austral, one of the most talked about cycle tours in the world yet neither of them had been there!

How could you love it enough for two and a half years and then want no more of it? People never cease to amaze. Fortunately, that is as true of home as it is out here.

One thing, on a completely separate track, that is quite unmissable down here is the “Islas Malvinas son Argentinas” The Argentine Falklands…..

Up north they didn’t seem the least bit bothered, preferring to discuss Maradona when they discovered I was English. Of course the politics there are rather better since they won! Everywhere here are signs regarding the Isles Malvinas, roadside, at the border, at town entrances. All the maps include the Islands and they are marked Islas Malvinas (Arg.) I’m pleased to say however that despite this, I’ve had no bad vibes when saying I’m English. Whether they dissociate individuals from the nation or whether they don’t really care, I’m not sure. Maybe they’re just too good hosts. Whatever, I’m not bringing the subject up!

Clearly the desire for land runs deep here and Argentinean maps all also show their claimed Antarctic territory. The fact that this almost entirely overlaps with the “Chilean Antarctica” on their Chilean maps doesn’t seem to bother anyone. In fact, if anything the Chileans seem the most absurd. Tourist brochures of Tierra del Fuego omit to mention that the Argentine side ever exists. “A circular route around Tierra del Fuego is well worth driving” they proclaim, entirely missing the Eastern half and the only large towns. And, whilst the Falklands go unmentioned in Argentina, in Chile I’m frequently told that Britain was a great friend of Chile – all because we fought off an invasion of some islands we’ve held since the18th century which are nothing to do with Chile.

I’m in Ushuaia, the self-proclaimed “end of the world” and the end of the road for me. As I had been informed, the only bit of really good riding was the last 130km or so. It is no coincidence that this is where I entered the Andes for the last time. They aren’t as high down here are they are slipping away into the sea, but that doesn’t stop them from being spectacular. The latitude means there’s a lot of ice and snow everywhere which always adds to a vista, and the cliffs are steep and rocky. I’m going to miss scenery like this.

I should mention Tolhuin, which is where I spent the last day of 2005. It’s a quiet little place, but very welcoming. Far superior to Rio Grande. The centre of town is unquestionably the bakery which has a huge and tasty selection of baked goods, is open 24hrs, 365 days a year and is surely amongst a very small minority of bakeries that have not only an aviary, but also a pet beaver.

2005 has been an excellent year; obviously it is going to be memorable for the trip and the engagement, the rest of it has been pretty good too! Certainly I’ve got a better idea of where I’m going in life now than I did 12 months ago.

For all that, New Year’s eve was a bit of a non-event. For me the big day was New year’s Day, at about 4pm. That’s when I came around a corner and suddenly that was it. The Ushuaia town sign and the town itself spread out in front of me. It was a bit of an anti-climax really, a feeling of “oh, I’m there, now what?”

Actually, it’s rather a good place to finish up. It is certainly spectacular: mountains and glaciers, the Beagle Channel and an attractive harbour. It is quite touristy, but that in this case is a good thing as I have eight days to kill and it’s nice to have some entertainment. I spent 2 days in a smart hotel (less smart after I’d cleaned all my gear there!) and then moved into a hostel for the rest. It’s a lot cheaper and is a good way to meet people but the two days of relative luxury were much appreciated.

One thing that is unfortunate is that I keep meeting people either going to, or returning from Antarctica. It’s so close (relatively) and it’s a place I’ve always wanted to go to so I’m jealous! The photos look amazing and I think that one day I’ll be back to take a cruise… Still, there have been plenty of things I’ve had to miss, that’s the nature of any trip of this length. The Galapagos, more of the Cordillera Blanca, the Amazon, Iguazu, Peninsula Valdes, Easter Island, Villa O’Higgins, Glacier National Park, Torres del Paine… but I think Antarctica tops them all. That’s just the ones I’ve missed in or around South America but when the whole world is taken into account it’s far, far worse. Or better, depending on which way you look at it. Though I’ve seen a good deal of the New World, I’ve never been east of Greece. Asia, Africa, Australasia, Antarctica…There’s a lot of “A”s waiting! Come to think of it, if you count Americas as beginning with A, only Europe remains that doesn’t. Isn’t that rather odd?

I’m in an incredible corner of the world right now though so rather than waste it, I went on a sail boat trip on the Beagle Channel today. It’s an excellent sailing location and it baffles me why anyone would take the trip on an IOW-style catamaran when they could, for the same price be doing it on a yacht. Doubtless the same people who asked on an Antarctic trip I’ve been hearing about why anyone would go looking for Emperor penguins when they could see them in a zoo. Why do these people travel?! Apparently it is so they can but Antarctic souvenirs and show them to their friends. Isn’t there something rather odd about shipping souvenirs to Antarctica in order that they can be taken back again? Maybe these people think they’re actually made there?

It was a big pizza, and very good, in fact, best yet I think. Time to waddle home…

 

05/01/0610-01-06:  The aftermath


Time soon not just to waddle home but to fly there, permanently. I’ve not done much in the last couple of days, nor, I suspect will I do much in those to come. Today I did manage to box the bike albeit with the seat post protruding. Hopefully it’ll get home in one piece for the fun and games of trying to separate things.

I’ve been pretty lucky with mechanical things all in all. Here’s the damage ; 1 bike puncture, 5 yak punctures, 2 yak welds, 2 cassettes, 5 chains and numerous paint scratches. That’s not bad in 5 months. The wheels have been utterly bombproof and I wonder if they were perhaps overkill; better safe than sorry though. The other major change on the bike was the Pace carbon fork and on reflection, I think that this was fabulous. I didn’t really notice it (a good thing), and the noticeable flex must surely have softened the ride on the dirt and even on the road. No problems of course with leaking seals or other such things which could have been an issue with suspension.

Off the bike, most of the gear has worked really well too. The tent was perfect as expected but again probably heavier than required. Losing a kilo or so here would have been better I think.

I think it’s fair t say that I wouldn’t want to do a longer ride alone, possibly not at all. Long distance solo bikers tend to be very strange people though I suspect they started out that way too. Those riding as a couple are much more likely to be sane. Even so, I am definitely travel-weary. I feel that things that ought to  be awe-inspiring no longer are. I’ve seen most of the topography that is on offer here. Antarctica of course would be quite different, as would, for example, Easter island. Still, I’m certain that I’d get more out of a shorter trip to these spots. I’ve seen so much that I need to go home to get some sense of what normality is. Over the coming weeks and months, I’m sure that the memories will sort themselves out and give me a much better perspective of what I’ve seen and done.

As I’ve mentioned before there are many things I’ve missed on the trip. The Andes have been the unifying feature and I haven’t been to the east of the continent, Brazil in particular stands out, but I think I have a good impression of the continent as a whole. I certainly don’t have any desire to come back in the near future.