THE GRINGO PEDALS PERU

PLEASE SEE PREVIOUS POST FOR MACCHU PICHU. In Africa I was a Mzungu, but in this region a foreigner is referred to as a Gringo. Since my last report "The Gringo" left Lake Titicaca into the cold breeze along the desolate Altiplano - at least for the first few days. Along the way I met up with Israeli´s Amit and Shohan, and I was mostly in their company until we reached Cuzco where their South American cycle ended. In the process we crossed the La Raya mountain pass at 4360 m, before descending to Cuzco at 3300 m over the next couple of days. Shortly after the pass there was a rustic hot-spring, and it was quite enjoyable to float in the warm pool while admiring the surrounding snowy peaks. Cuzco is a very touristy city which was initially the Inca capital before being conquered by the Spanish - which gives it a rather European colonial character (and there are perhaps more tourists than locals). I stayed at La Estrellita, a cheap hostal popular amongst cyclists - and there were a number of us in residence. Of course, the renowned Macchu Pichu Inca ruins is not far away from Cuzco, and I too was compelled to visit the site (SEE PRVIOUS POST REGARDING MY VISIT TO MACCHU PICHU). I was planning to return to Cuzco, but I found a small dirt-road shortcut which linked up with the route I was planning to cycle, so I gave a second visit to Cuzco a miss. At the end of that day I was checking out a camping spot in the twilight, when I discovered 2 cyclists already camping there - Austrian/Swiss couple Hannes and Annelies. We´ve stayed in the same places for the past couple of days, except for one day when I had 5 punctures and camped alone up in the mountains. There are big mountains to cross, and I´ve now dropped and climbed more than 2000 m at a time. There was an added amount of excitement coming down the 35 km zig-zag decent yesterday from 4000 m in the rain with hardly any brakes left. Now I´m in a room in a big local town called Abancay, taking the day off to do this "Internet Thing", which feels like a job at times (I hope someone still reads this). When I leave here tomorrow I´ll be on my own again, as my 2 companions will be taking a different route. Daily distances cycled since Puno have been:- Juliaca 44 km; Pucara 65 km; Santa Rosa 75 km; Sicuani 72 km; Urcos 99 km; Cuzco 49 km; Ollantaytambo 86 km; Limatambo Mt Camp 62 km; Rio Apurimac 57 km; Curawasi Mt Camp 39 km; and Abancay 53 km. The total distance cycled in South America so far is 13 404 km, and the total distance cycled on this journey is 79 891 km.

MARCHING TO MACCHU PICHU

Afer leaving Lake Titicaca and the Andes Altiplano, the road led me to the touristy city of Cuzco. This city was the centre of the Inca Empire before the Spanish conquered it and erected their own colonial city on the Inca foundations. The Spanish used rocks from Inca structures to build huge cathedrals, and there is one around every corner. Some of the steep narrow streets in the city are still lined with Inca-built stone walls, and there are some ruin-sites around the area. However, possibly the biggest tourist attraction in South-America is Macchu Pichu, the ruins of an Inca citadel high up on a remote mountain - and re-discovered exactly 100 years ago. It seemed to me that it would be a disgrace to be in the area and not pay a visit to THE PLACE. However, we are now talking about "Richman" tourist territory, and I´m hardly in that class. The only access is by train (fancy trains run the 110 km route all the way from Cuzco, and cheaper trains run the 40-odd k´s from the end of the road - although none of them are cheap). There is also, of course, the Inca Trail and various other costly ways of getting to Macchu Pichu. After consultation with various other economically challenged people, I decided to do the "Poor-Man´s" Inca trail. I cycled from Cuzco to the end of the road at Ollantaytambo where I left my bike (Old Saartjie) in the hostal where I spent that night. The following day I packed a backpack and walked along the railway line to the touristy town of Aguas Calientes down in the valley, where the railway terminates and all the tourists must pass through. I was under the impression that the walk would be twenty-something km, but it turned out to be at least 40 k´s. Initially I enjoyed walking through the villages, and there were even a few Inca ruins along the way (free, and no other people). BUT WHAT WAS I THINKING!? For more than 4 years I have hardly been on my feet! After 10 hours I hobbled into the terminal train station, having struggled along the tricky line for an hour in the dark - dodging trains and trying not to disappear down the eroded embankment into the raging river. In the station the platform guard demanded to see my ticket (if I was feeling any stronger I may be languishing in a Peruvian prison right now). First thing the next morning I went to enquire about a return train ticket, as I hadn´t been in such self-imposed physical distress since my ultra-marathon days. While I was standing at the ticket counter debating the dilemma, the big blister under my foot burst, making for an easy decision. The train ticket costed the equivalent of 6 days accommodation, and I had to stay for another 2 days for the next available seat. At least that gave me a day to sit with my feet up before I climbed the stone stairs up the mountain to Macchu Pichu early the following morning. The entry ticket to the site was also quite costly (the whole thing seemed to be a big tourist trap). Anyway, once through the entrance gate I felt a sense of anticipation, and it was quite exhilirating to round a corner and catch a glimpse of the famous ruins through the early-morning cloudy mist. At that stage there seemed to be an eery dignity about the place, and there were not many people there yet. The site was bigger than I´d expected, and I wandered around amongst the ruins for a couple of hours until the sky had cleared enough for a photo of the citadel from the high terraces. However, by that time the trains had been rolling into the staion down below, the busses had been snaking up the mountainside, and the crowds had been pouring in. There were traffic jams, marshalls were blowing whistles to regulate crowd flow, and the atmosphere was that of a football match. I regained my composure in the forest on my way back down the stone stairs. I felt an intense longing for Old Saartjie and the rest of my worn-out belongings. After the train trip the following morning I was pleased to find everything just as I´d left it, and I spent the rest of the peaceful day doing laundry and re-packing my bags.

HIGH TIDE

Lake Titicaca, which straddles the Bolivia/Peru border, is the world`s largest high-altitude lake (also referred to as the highest navigable lake). The lake located towards the NW end of the Andes high plains, and is at an altitude of over 3800 m above sea level. After the climb out of La Paz city back up to the Altiplano, I made it to the lake shores by evening. Since then I`ve cycled more than 200 km along the lake, taking one of the many suspect-looking ferries over a channel along the way. There are a couple of decent hills along the way, taking the road up as high as 4300 metres (good views of the Andes peaks in the background). On the first day along the lake shore I didn`t make much headway, taking photo`s but there was also some festival going on in a number of the lakeside villages. The festival involved a slow parade in the street, with elaborately dressed groups of women and men doing "Square Dancing", and followed by a brass band as they slowly moved along. I knew there were some big hills after the ferry crossing, and as I was already struggling to breathe I stayed over in San Pedro village where the ferry dropped me off. The local population around the lake shore consists mainly of smallish-built indigenous people (see the size of the door in my room - and I´m by no means a giant, to say the least!). My last stop-over in Bolivia was a relaxing couple of days at the lakeside "resort" town of Copacabana, with it´s Moorish-style cathedral. After an effortless border crossing into Peru, I´ve cycled along the seemingly colder Western shores of Lake Titicaca up to the interesting touristy town of Puno. It´s supposed to be the dry (winter)season here, but on my approach to Puno I cycled through some freezing cold sleet, and it´s been raining on and off for the 2 days that I´ve been here. Puno is the favourite place for tourists to visit some of the interesting lake islands (such as the floating grass islands), and the small harbour area is crammed with tourist craft. As I´ve mentioned it is rather cold here, even the moto-taxi`s are covered. I also bought a local knitted cap which makes me look a bit silly, but it keeps my ears warm and has a double layer - handy if it starts to look a bit grimy I can just turn it inside-out! I suppose I can´t hang around here forever, so even if it rains tomorrow I´ll head towards Cuzco and the famous Inca-ruin region. Distances cycled since La Paz haven´t been phenomenal, but at this altitude one is held back by a limited oxygen supply. Those distances are:- Huarina 78 km; San Pedro 40 km; Copacabana 41 km; Juli (Peru) 63 km; and Puno 84 km. Total distance in South America so far is 12 703 km. Total distance cycled on this trip is 79 190 km.

THE ALTIPLANO

It would be a big mistake to imagine that the Andes Altiplano (High Plains)was comparable to a table top onto which one could climb. In reality the plains are protected by big mountain passes over which one has to grind in the lean air. From an altitude of 2 500 metres at Cochabamba I climbed over 4 distinct high passes, descending again after each pass before climbing even higher over the next. The highest point on the road was at 4 500 metres before descending to the Altiplano at around 4 000 metres. There is no accommodation in these mountains, and I camped a couple of times at high altitude. On the second night after leaving Cochabamba I was camping on a ledge at 4 000 metres (I was hidden from the road, but some of the local tribal people spotted me from a path high above - no problem, as they waved and greeted me politely in Spanish). Those mountains are very desolate, and one of the few animals which can survive there are llama´s - the farmers herd the llama´s on the steep slopes with the use of ¨sheep-dogs¨. As I often do in the absence of any fixed object, I propped the bike up out of the dust and locked it to my tent for the night. At that altitude it became quite cold in the night, so I dressed appropriately and crawled down into the sleeping bag. During the night Old Saartjie blew over onto the tent, and with bike theft in mind I tried to jump into action with pepper spray and fish knife at the ready. However, with all that protection against the cold I got myself into such a tangle that I was fortunate not to cause myself any grevious bodily harm! (I wonder about that incident, as the bike was leaning away from the tent and there was only a light breeze). Later at the miserable dusty Altiplano junction town of Caracolle I stayed in an appropriately miserable room - the door could not even be closed properly from outside. During the night I had to trot to the equally miserable filthy downstairs toilet on regular occasions due to a stomach problem, and one of my fellow "inmates" stole my old, dirty, broken 2Oceans Marathon T-shirt from where it was hanging close to the door. Things get stolen for re-sale and not personal use, and the Nike sponsors logo on the sleeve must have been a deciding factor. However, upon closer examination the thief was unhappy with his catch, because I later recovered the stolen shirt from the hook behind the toilet door. Due to the thin air at altitude I often went into Oxygen Debt, and had to stop to hyperventilate until my head cleared and some strength returned to my legs. I reached Calamarca village early in the day on my way to La Paz, but I was so exhausted that I decided to see if they had any accommodation. Upon enquiry at the roadside I was informed that there was indeed a hotel up the hill at the plaza, opposite the historic cathedral (they even told me how much a room would cost). Well, when I got up there I found no such accommodation, and a ¨Man Of the Cloth¨(the Padre of the Cathedral complex) allowed me to camp out in one of the empty school-rooms. I was pleased about that as there was a fairly strong icy wind blowing on the plains - there was even a toilet in the back yard, with lots of guinea pigs charging about (I imagine the Padre knabs a fat one every week for his Sunday lunch). And then it was the final stretch to La Paz, at 3 600 metres the highest capital city around. At first I didn´t think much of the place, as I had to battle it out with taxi´s and busses through the dusty and dirty outlying El Alto. But when I did spot the city, it was an absolutely amazing sight. There was no prior warning, suddenly the earth fell away in front of me and there lay this spectacular city with the centre on the deep valley floor and buildings hugging the impossibly steep valley walls- with Mt Illimani in the background. Later, looking for cheap accommodation up and down the steep cobbled streets of the backpacker area, I was directed to a touring cyclists haven (Casa De Cyclistas), where at one point there were eight bicycles clogging the small place. It was also great to swap stories with the other cyclists, and just to have a normal conversation again for the first time since I left Leana in Rio De Janeiro 2 months ago. La Paz is a good place to acclimatise as it is situated at a slightly lower altitude than the surrounding area, and I´ve been here for a few days already. So, tomorrow I´ll move on again. Daily distances cycled since Cochabamba have been:- Parotan Camp 69 km; Pongo Camp 40 km; Caracolle 90 km; Patacamaya 91 km; Calamarca 46 km; and La Paz 65 km. Total in South America is 12 397 km, and total cycled since the start of this jouney is 78 884 km.

THE CORDILLERA ORIENTAL

Feeling rather miserable after the theft of my photo´s, I made a hasty exit from Santa Cruz, heading West towards the Eastern slopes of the Andes (The Cordillera Oriental). I had a choice of 2 roads, and after consulting bus drivers at the terminal I took the Northern route (first I spoke to a group of taxi drivers at a pavement cafe, but at 9am they were too drunk to give decent directions). Although the road was busy, it was quite flat for the first few hundred kilometres. I stayed in some interesting places, and the simple rooms which I found there were dirt-cheap. Then the road tilted upwards towards the Altiplano (High Planes of Western Bolivia), and in less than 100 km I battled my way up from 300 m to 3 700 m. The road was supposedly paved, but it was in poor condition with gravel sections as well as cobblestones in places. At the end of climbing day 1 I was at around 2000 m and looking for a place to camp. I found a small roadside restaurant and upon enquiry I discovered that they had some rooms upstairs, as well as a hot shower (all for less than 3 Dollars). The following night I was up on the plains at Colomi, and from 3 700 m the road plummeted into a large dusty valley where I reached the city of Cochabamba more than 1000 m lower, 40 km later. At altitude the climate of the plains is rather desolate compared to the tropical atmosphere of the region down below. That lowland region is known for its variety of fruit (I bought tangerines and bananas a number of times at the roadside), as well as for production of coca (which they dry in front of their houses the same way they do cloves in Indonesia). The rural people live in stilted wooden houses (like in Laos), and they wash cars and clothes and themselves in the rivers (like in Africa). The women seem to have been cut from a square block of material and dress in pleated knee-length skirts and wear their hair in 2 long braids (the 2 in picture are actually quite skinny). The men are all scrawny and have a bulge of coca-leaf in their cheek. Up on the plains around Colomi the people have a smaller build, their houses are mostly made of mud bricks, and they have a somewhat Chinese look about them (in fact the landlady at the dump where I stayed in Colomi would not look at all out of place in parts of South-Western China). Cochabamba, where I am now, is the 3rd largest city in Bolivia, it is an interesting crazy town, but I have mixed feelings about the place. I arrived on Thursday afternoon and immediately went to the immigration office to extend my visa. I found there that they still follow a tedious paper trail, and I was instructed to fetch my visa on the Friday. On the Friday I discovered that some official had not yet signed my application, so I had to come back on Monday (this afternoon, and I hope it is ready). I also heard that about a month ago USA cyclists Eric and Amaya had booked into the same hotel where I´m staying, and while unpacking Eric had his fully laden bike stolen from the hotel courtyard (and I´m miserable over the loss of some photo´s!). Now I´m taking no chances, and I´ve not only locked my bike in my room but I´ve also chained it to the furniture. One of the things that I did get done here was to acquire a pair of reading glasses - now I look like somebody´s grandfather (the poor blighter), so perhaps it´s time for a shave again. If my visa is ready this afternoon then I´ll be climbing out of this valley again tomorrow, back up to the Altiplano where the air is thin and dry and cold. Daily distances cycled since my last post have been:- Buena Vista 109 km; Entre Rios 107 km; Chimore 73 km; Villa Tunari 37 km; Migalitu 64 km; Colomi 51 km; and Cochabamba 58 km. The total distance cycled in South America since November 2010 is 11 996 km. The total distance cycled on this journey so far is 78 483 km.

A PATH THROUGH THE JUNGLE

Let me first explain why there are no pictures with this report. As I mentioned in the previous post, there was a problem with a virus on my camera memory card - which I eventually had sorted out today. Subsequently, while I was out of my (locked) room, the camera card together with 2 other storage cards disappeared from the room - all the thousands of pics I´d taken in South America gone! Anyway, let me start where I left off last time. At the Bolivian border I got a nasty surprise, I had to pay 50 US Dollars for a 30-day visa. At least Bolivia is a lot cheaper than Brasil, and I found a crumby room where I lay for a couple of days trying to recover from flu. When I eventually got on the road, I found it to be a pleasantly quiet newly-paved road (and mostly quite flat compared to the previous month´s roller-coaster). There was only one section about 200 km before the city of Santa Cruz where construction was still in progress. So I´ve been in Santa Cruz for a couple of days, resting and trying to recover from the flu which I´ve been unable to shake off. So far Bolivia seems to be rather out of place in South America - it reminds me a lot of certain African countries, or even some of the poorer East Asian places such as Laos. I´ll leave here tomorrow morning, heading for the big hills of the Andes once more. Needless to say, I´m very disappointed at the loss of all those photo´s. I did report the incident to the tourist police, but I doubt if that will do any good (the language gap was a problem, they didn´t even have a vehicle and would need to take a taxi to the hotel and investigate). Daily distances cycled since my last report have been:- Quijarro 11 km; El Carmen 108 km; Robore 143 km; Chochis 46 km; San Jose De Chiquitos 97 km; Tintas bush camp 130 km; Pailon 99 km; and Santa Cruz 69 km. The total distance cycled so far in South America is 11 497 km. The total so far on this trip is 77 984 km.

THE PANTANAL

(Sorry, no pics due to a virus on my camera memory card - the joys of using public internet facilities!). Since leaving Campo Grande it has taken me 5 days to reach the Bolivian border at the town of Corumba. I don´t know where the geometric centre of South America is, but I guess that I´m not too far away from that point. I´d expected the terrain to be flat for a change, but 3 of these days turned out to be the usual hilly road. The other 2 days I spent cycling along the elevated road with the Pantanal wetlands stretching out on either side of me. This area is Brasil´s premier ecological tourist attraction, with lots of birds and other wildlife around. Traveling by bicycle I´ve surprised many animals crossing the road or just hanging around close by, but they refuse to keep still and by the time I have the camera out they´ve taken off in a hurry. I don´t want to appear morbid, but the only mammals I´ve seen which have kept still are a variety of road-kill (including the giant rodent, anteaters, cayman and large snakes). At least I´ve managed to snap some Macaws, and the rest of the wildlife is depicted on the murals from the hostel in Campo Grande. For some reason border towns have to be dusty, and Corumba is no exception in that regard. I don´t need dust right now as I left Campo Grande with a sore throat which soon turned into a flu and bronchitis (hopefully I can shake some of that off with the day´s rest at this hostel in Corumba). Tomorrow I head into another country, Bolivia (I´m a bit unsure of the road for the first few hundred kilometres, so it could take a while before my next report). Distances in the 5 days since Campo Grande have been:- Palmeiras 92 km; Taunay 95 km; Guaicurus 68 km; Porto Morrinho 117 km; and Curumba 75 km. Distance cycled in South America so far is 10 789 km. Total distance cycled on this journey so far is 77 276 km.