Mines

I didn’t realise how much of the land is being torn up in Peru. The copper mine and the gold mine of a few days ago have been added to by the horrendous pollution of whatever they do at La Oroya (from the company web site they make a cocktail of copper, lead zinc, bismuth, silver and indium). The La Oroya operators claim to operate in a “socially and environmentally responsible way”. I can tell you that they also produce sulphur dioxide at the plant, and have contaminated the valley below the plant with this noxious gas. Our eyes, throats and lungs burnt for hours as we descended from the town. The hill sides have been scoured of vegetation. The river looked in poor health. At the risk of ranting, the company has an article on it’s website about an appeal to a fine they have received. Apparently they are operating within their operating parameters as set by the government:

“Air quality standards: The company has met monthly air quality targets since March, for the first time in La Oroya’s history”

I suggest the government set stricter targets. The problem is the government now owns the mine. Draw your own conclusions.

Anyway, the road was otherwise pleasant. We descended only 450m while travelling 125km. Could this be the perfect gradient for travelling by bike? Ok, so we climbed about the same amount (and then descended this as well), but it was basically downhill all day.

More mines lined the road. Some were digging the sand and gravel from the river bed, others were destroying the limestone cliffs by the river.

And then the steep valley opened into a wide, obviously fertile, valley. Every inch was cultivated for something, all sorts of crops are grown. From my point of view, the most interesting part was most of the small fields are lined with gum trees – yes the eucalypt makes a strong appearance here (as other places as well).

Today is a rest day in Huancayo. If I get over the current round of stomach problems, I’ll be tackling the next set of super high passes in the next few days. If I don’t I’ll follow the river valley (the route Jurg and Rahel are going to take) to the same destination.

Still on Top

I think the titles could stay with this theme for some time. The altitude promises to stay rather high. So maybe I’ll use a subheading instead. This one could be:

Alpacas

After a good two days eating and cleaning in Huanuco, the three of us cleared out for more southerly action. Going east was fun, but wasn’t helping the arrival at Ushuia.

Basically that involved going up. Huanuco is at a lowly 1950m, and there is a lovely high plain at 4100m between it and anything south. So for the best part of two days we climbed.

Pity I don’t have a photo yet (Jurg has a few). On the first day of climbing, we stopped for lunch just before 1pm. Respectable time we thought. The place was a small pueblo; San Rafael. Soon after we’d eaten, we noticed a few small faces at the door (we had the bikes outside and keep a pretty sharp eye on them). Within minutes there were about 50 children crowded around us and the bikes. The school was just across the road, and they had been let out to go home. We talked, made faces and were stared at for a fair while before we left, with a trail of chasing kids.

The rain has been appearing with monotonous regularity about 3pm. As we approached Huariaca, the sky became very dark and threatening. I felt sure we were about to get soaked. The hostel in the town was significantly below par, and we decided to brave the weather. Luckily for us, the valley turned sharply just out of Huariaca, and the weather was much kinder up this valley. We found a nice spot by the river, and set up the tent. The hammock took a bit of thinking about to make work, but I’m getting used to pitching the hammock as a hutchy or bivvy. Especially above 3000m, this is a better option (as freezing is less likely). I may have to continue this through Bolivia…

We decided to miss Cerro de Pasco, the biggest town the next day, as it took a 10km detour. Instead we crossed another pass, this one at only 4400m (yawn). It was extremely cold. The computer was telling me it was 10°C, but for some reason this didn’t seem right. Perhaps it was the wind (& wind chill), but my fingers could have sworn it was below freezing. Traveling down the other side at 55km/h probably didn’t help the wind chill.

I don’t have a photo (yet), but I’m beginning to ride in lots of clothes. The arm and leg warmers are no longer the bees-knees. They are the under garments now. Routinely I’m in a beanie and either the rain coat or the fleece.

On this pass, the descent on the far side was only 200m. This is due to a high altitude plain. Quite spectacular to see a large grass plain after climbing up for two days. After lunch, and steadying the spinning head from another round of altitude sickness, we rode on the edge of the plain to the town of Carhuamayo. At that altitude there is an air pressure of 60kPa, so roughly 60% as much oxygen to breathe.

I had noticed on the way up a slight slackness in the rear wheel which I fixed when we arrived. That was when I noticed one of the spokes had snapped also (probably on the bumpy road down into Huanuco). So I embarked on a tour of the town, at around sunset (read: when it was really, really cold) to find a new spoke. It turns out the spare I bought in Quito wasn’t the right length after all. To cut a long story short (I seem to have a few long stories…) I found a new spoke in a hardware store (the four bike repair stores didn’t have the right length, and in fact one of the ‘mechanics’/butchers took a look at the wheel and said ‘it looks all right, don’t worry until you’ve snapped 3 or 4 spokes’) .

This morning we rode across the plain, next to Lago de Junin (highest lake of it’s size in the Americas so I’m lead to believe). Big lake. High up. It would have been impressive if I could concentrate – 4100m is pretty high and some interesting effects have occurred inside my digestive system in the last few days. This morning there was a pain that I couldn’t get rid of and there seemed to be no oxygen until we reached Junin. I think it may have been the mixture of yogurt, coca tea, bread, altitude and exercise. I’ll try it again tomorrow and see what happens. Hopefully there is less gas produced.

After Junin, the oxygen returned and I could keep up again. And the rain came. For a little while. But there was a tiny bit of snow by the side of the road – I’m still not sure that it wasn’t snow that was falling and melting as it hit us. In the next town, the policeman told me that in 1 or 2 weeks the rain will be constant, all day every day. That sounds like the wet season approaches. If it gets to me in the mountains, there will be a bus involved. Riding in the rain (while freezing, ie at 4000m) isn’t a whole lot of fun.

I’ve completely missed the Alpacas. As soon as the altitude hit 4000m, these beasties were everywhere. Almost completely replacing sheep. They are even transported like sheep: I saw a taxi with five Alpacas, with thick wool, trussed up and in the back of the station wagon. There is a photo on Flickr. A point was made that the Peruvians do some strange things: often we see trucks full of people, and animals in the back of cars. The alpacas have continued, especially on the high plain – hordes of them. Today we saw some Vicuñas as well – a relative of the alpaca and llama. Now that I think of it, some of the beasties could have been llamas (although most were definitely alpacas).

Coming down off the plain today we headed for La Oroya, only because it was at about the right distance. The trip notes we found in Trujillo said “aire malo, mucha pollucion de las minas”. Even I could work that out. As it claims the air is bad, the refinery is only a few hundred meters away, and the trucks go down the main road of the town. A place to leave asap. Hopefully two days to Huancayo (another town starting with “hua”).

I hope these posts aren’t too long, and are boring everyone.

On the top of Peru

So much has happened!

Sorry, this could be a longish post. Catherine, make sure Rachel is settled. Of course, Congratulations to Kev and Catherine on the baby girl! Kev, you’ve clearly got nothing to do now, so you can read it too

It seems so long ago that I was in Huaraz. We tried to have a rest day on a Sunday (a rest day meaning “sleep in, then run around madly cleaning/fixing the bikes, buying food, eating, preparing for the next section”. It turns out to be foolish – not everything is open, and at the end of the day the only goal that could be said to be complete is eating. Ice-cream mostly. So we took another day to actually get ready to go.

So we took the easy option – a short ride form Huaraz to Caraz. And slept in relative comfort for the night. The next day was fairly long – leaving at 6:30 we braved the 4°C temperature and finished the last few km’s of bitumen before turning left toward the pass. This was the same road that Ol, Jess and I took for ice climbing in July. We climbed from 3500m to just over 4800m in a day. The scenery was great – even though I’d seen it before from a speeding taxi. (see photos on flickr – adding them to this page is possible, looks slick, but takes ages – I’d rather see the city than a computer screen all day – sorry). The road could have been a fire track straight out of the Flinders Ranges – steep, rocky, basically bad (there is much worse to come).

Since we weren’t quite acclimatised (well at all) the rise hurt. Rahel suffered early, but picked up later, I suffered in the early arvo, and Jurg didn’t really enjoy the last bit. But we all survived, and set up camp in a small stall just below the glacier at the top of the pass. I abandoned the hammock and stayed in the small tent with Rahel and Jurg (thankyou again!). It turns out I would have survived anyway, it was an overcast night and the shelter took the wind and snow right out of the equation. Ie it was warm (well considering the altitude anyway). The only part of me that was cold was my feet!

Although it was warm, we all slept poorly. It was 4800m after all! Our heads hurt – mostly due to dehydration it turns out. Drinking is not easy when the water is cold, really cold. We all woke several times, so when it was time to get going (at sunrise), we took a look out at the light snow falling and wordlessly decided to sleep in. So it was cold, but had stopped snowing, when we headed off at 10:30. The morning tourists had already started to arrive to do a bit of ice climbing. We didn’t tell them about the person who was evacuated yesterday with a laceration to the neck, and a pretty well busted ankle after falling from the glacier.

We hit the first pass almost straight away (only a small climb). Took a photo and moved on – was still pretty cold and windy. Then sailed down in to the high region between the two passes. Without panniers, or a fairly strong need to be conservative with the wheels, this section would have given exceptional riding. The road was good enough to get a fair speed up, but bad enough that it required constant attention (except with the heavy bikes we took it easy). The terrain changed 3 or 4 times, with grand mountains, grand valleys, and lots of plain grandness. The scenery was great – most of the tourists get to the glacier and stop, but just over the pass the scenery is ten times better. The only real problem was the weather. Starting overcast it cleared before turning nasty as we hit the second pass (a lazy 4880m according to the satellite gods – or GPS). Lots of wind, a bit of snow – enough to see me hiding in a fortuitously found cave by the road. I think we were lucky though – the opposite side of the valley turned white on about 10 minutes. I think they got a serious amount of snow over there.

After the worst had passed, we headed down the hill, only for me to discover I’d left my glasses in the cave. So back I climbed. The glasses were gone. I knew no-one had been there, so I took of my helmet to look around. Ah ha! Found them – between my beanie (a Nana’s special) and the rain coat hood. No wonder the helmet didn’t feel right…

200m down the road (vertically) we go to the asphalt, turned left and shot down the road. The problems encountered: dogs (bloody dogs) and cold (4°C racing down a hill cold enough for ya?). Gravity was assisting as much as it could though.

Cold, tired, hungry, bitching about dogs we rolled into Huallanca and initially liked the place – friendly people and houses that looked warm. After about an hour of searching for some where to sleep and being told they were all full (rubbish they just didn’t want us for some reason), we took a really crappy room without a shower (a cold shower counts as no shower above 3000m). The price was about right – S/ 6 (a bit over A$2). The pizza restaurant we went for dinner had a menu that consisted of chicken… and rice. We decided we all hated this place and on no account would we be staying here another night (not that we had planned on it anyway). Our feeble protest at the hoteliers friendliness (or lack of). To be fair, the owner of the place we stayed was quite friendly, but this didn’t make up for the rest of the town.

Since we weren’t on the top of the world any more, we managed to sleep pretty well, and got out early as we’d promised ourselves. After the pretty ordinary afternoon yesterday, today was great! Continued downhill, through a narrow canyon. We met first a truckload of people who stopped us for photographs. We thought they wanted us to take a photo of them… but the all poured off to take photos of us! A strange experience. Down in La Union we were again the center of attention with a crowd of Peruvians around us for quite some time (while we ate second breakfast – the bread was pretty god here). At one point Rahel asked me if I was married yet – a couple of girls had sidled up and giggling asked for a photo. (The answer is no).

Down the wrong side of the river, on a very poor, but scenic track. We finally found a foot bridge after 2km and went straight past the hot springs. The shouts of so many children from inside didn’t sound like much fun to us). And then the downhill ended, and we had to climb into Pachas. Ate lunch – guess what? yep, chicken (and rice). Then we got to go down again. If all this talk of up and down is repetative, I hope you can bear with me. I am cycling in/across the Andes, and one big feature of this is the changes in altitude. Also remember that the highest peak in Oz is Mt Kosciuszko at 2228m (although the National Mapping website informs me that the real highest point is Mawson’s Peak on Heard Island at 2745m, and even higher points in the Australian Antarctic Territory – but come on thats splitting hairs).

Where was I? Yes, down into Tingo Chico. A small place, only of note because it was 4 hours ride to the next Pueblo (village). About half an hour after we decided to stop for the night, a thunderstorm broke. Again, same time as yesterday. This little village contains possibly the worst hostel in Peru. It cost S/5 each (about A$2) for the night, and we consider that expensive. I wont go into a description of the toilet facilities. We normally ask if a room has hot water for a shower – we didn’t bother here, but were a little surprised by the lack of any water, or electricity. But in reality this is how many Peruvians (and others) live every day.

It rained for about 2 hours. During that time we had dinner – at the only restaurant. Pescado Frito (fried fish) was on the menu, so Jurg and I jumped at it (it wasn’t chicken) – and it was the only thing on the menu. Rahel, wished us good luck when she saw it arrive. Jurg as me how my battlefield was going part way through. It was that sort of meal (but actually tasted pretty good, and I’m still alive now).

From the locals we got various reports that this was the first rain of the year, and the 4th day in a row. This happens often, we’re still trying to work out how to sift through the crap and work out who is telling the truth. It’s especially frustrating with directions and distances.

The next day we rode up a valley to Chavinillo. It wasn’t far, but it was up, on a really crap road, made into a mud pit by the rain yesterday. I’ve named the Valley “Valle de los Perros” – Valley of the dogs. I had a dog stick nearly all day and the next, and had occasion to wave it at many, many dogs. I’m also losing my reluctance to throw stones at dogs. It seems to the best way to get them to back off. At one point (out of the timeline I’m afraid, but on topic) Jurg got bitten on the leg and panniers (not badly, but enough to scare us all) when we both had sticks in hand and were threateningly waving them at the dogs. This should not attract the damn things. We threw a few rocks at that one.

So we reached Chavinillo, at only 1pm, had lunch, looked up and decided to stay. Again, another good call, the thunderstorm broke after we’d moved in to the room. It looks like the wet season is approaching (bugger), thunderstorms every afternoon. We had a shower here though – the water was, unlike the promised hot, warm, but sufficient to shower. We decided we’d have to get to the bitumen tomorrow – the road so far has been really, really bad.

14km to the top, and we saw the Cronos del Inca (Crown of the Incas). A big rock formation that looks startling like a Tiara on the top of the hill. The people on the top of the hill looked different to the people of the valley, and were much more friendly. They live at 3900m. Tough people.

Around the corner Jurg got bitten, and we started the hardest descent so far. 2000m down, and all of it constantly on the brakes, dodging rocks and hanging on. 5 hours of riding took us about 50kms. It was a bad road. Again without panniers, or the necessity to keep the wheels round it could have been much faster and more fun. As it was I discovered a new muscle in my hand, the one you use to brake all day. It complained loudly to my brain this it shouldn’t be used this much. Jurg discoved the sand has a tendency to throw you off your bike. The dogs kept up the reputation from the previous day, I ended up with a supply of rocks in my raincoat pocket in readiness for the inevitable attacks.

Thuderstorm on cue just before 3 (after rain again about midday). We shook into Huanuco (why do so many Peruvian towns start with “H” when you don’t pronounce it?). We ignored the historical monument – too tired and battle worn from the shaker-shaker road and calls of “gringo!” to deal with it. I ate a Chifa (Chinese Fried Rice), or rather inhaled it, in the rain, in a little park in the city. The city started out badly, but we found a room easily, the pizza restaurant two hours later, and crashed.

At the pizza restaurant, Rahel and Jurg bumped into some other Swiss, who turned out to be living here and working (I wont go into details), The up-shot is the next day we spent all day in their compound cleaning the bikes (they needed it), having a feast for lunch of Swiss cooking (yum) and being eaten alive by bugs. We’re either freezing to death (altitude) or being eaten alive in this place.

I shouldn’t leave the updates so long. This sounds like a “today we did this” without time for thoughts. And I wouldn’t have to sit in the cubicle next to a girl singing karaoke for so long. You must all appreciate the photos though. I had to sift through 190 (in only a week!) to find the few good ones.

So far Huanuco has been eating and sleeping. And typing while the day disappears. The next section is on Bitumen. Yippe! The map shows a lot of 4000m+ coming up. I hope the wet season gives me just a bit more time to evacuate this area.

I’ve sniffed out the Restaurant Govinda here. The local Hari Krishna Restaurant. I think we’re in for some Vegetarian tonight. Followed by a monster fruit salad; I may have got carried away at the market, sp now we have to eat our way through a Pineapple, Papaya, 1kg of mangoes, two hands of bananas and a liter of yoghurt. Wish us luck.

Over 1000 hits

I know I don’t have this many friends. Who are all you people?

Now get back to work. Only jobless slackers like me are allowed to waste time on the internet.

Huaraz… Again?

Well we made it to Huaraz.

From Chao the Pan Americana heads south (and north if you want to look at it that way). The wind wasn’t so bad, but we left the bitumen after about 15km – so we didn’t give it a chance. The private road we’d been told about was exactly where it should be, and thank goodness. The short cut of 55km meant that we didn’t have to go south to Chimbote, and then back again (saving quite a few km’s). The private road is for maintenance of a canal that brings water from the other side of the Andes (the Amazon side) for all of the irrigation on this side of the mountain range. That’s quite a project, boring a hole through the Andes for water. But they make use of it – huge areas of sand support crops around Trujillo. Even some crops I didn’t expect – sugar cane, artichokes, asparagus, corn, grapes, and lots of others. All sorts are grown in what must be essentially hydroponic conditions. The sand is deep (judging by the depth of some of the sand drifts) and I can’t see that the crops get any sustance that isn’t supplied artificially. But back to the road.

Back on the public road we had bitumen again. Sometimes you count your blessings, and little things make it in, like a paved road. Now was one of those times. A short vertical distance later we were in a tiny little place called Chuquicara. A truck stop really. We ate in the restaurant, and took the room out the back of the petrol station. The beds weren’t too good, so we set up tents inside the room (I strung my hammock from the roof). For dinner I had chicken and rice, it was either that or rice and chicken – but I had that for lunch.

The next morning we headed further into the river valley, which is really a canyon. The road immediately changed from Bitumen to something out of a horror movie. The corrugations and rocks meant that the average speed was somewhere down in my socks. The going was tough. The clouds also cleared, and allowed the sun an unobstructed view of us. This wasn’t too bad, the traffic was light, and we even manged to get a jug of juice from a small restaurant when we were thirsty. Soon the restaurants petered out, the rocks stayed just as big (or possibly got bigger) and a passing car asked Rachel if she wanted a lift.

Rachel was clearly for the idea. I was intially against it, having begun the ride up the valley, I wanted to finish it. Despite having caught a bus down this valley already (a month or so before) and having seen all of it, I was keen to see it again by bicycle. However, we were travelling as a group, and it really didn’t make a lot of sense to torture our bodies and bikes given the state of the road. The option of riding while the others got a lift was quickly dismissed – the food and water had been planned as a group – I could have gone it alone, but I guess I didn’t really want to. So we piled our bikes into the back of the ute, jumped in ourselves and tore off. Tore off being the operative words. Turns out the driver was Peruvian; ie as soon as he got behind the wheel, he was a maniac. I think we all came out with bruised backsides. There were a few times where we almost came out of the tray altogether, after hitting larger than expected rocks! There was one particular spoon drain that almost claimed us all. Embarrassed the driver enough to stop and see if we were all right.

So we saw the Cañon de Pato, slightly faster than expected. The driver was actually quite kind, and stopped a few times for us to take photos. But it did chop 2 days of riding down to half a day, and an hour or so of hanging on in the back of a ute. We were let out in Caraz.

Caraz is a nice place. I can vouch for the two restaurants we ate (or possibly gorged) at and the icecream place. Since we had little else to do, we ate. So much so that I was completely full, possibly for the first time in a while. And the effect carried over to the next morning, I was still so full that breakfast was a non event for me, and I didn’t really need anything for lunch. Of course I was recovered by dinmner tonight and downed my fair share of pasta.

The road from Caraz to Huaraz was mostly up (the lift we got up the canyon helped with some of the altitute gain, but there is plenty more to go). But Bitumen the whole way. In fact this section was almost perfect, sun shining, cool air, mountains everywhere you look (some with snow), slight breeze, smooth road, swiss cyclists to talk to, and cars shooting past at ungodly speeds. Pity about the dramatic increase in traffic. And we had a run in with a farmer who seemed disproportionally upset with us taking a photo of the hillside. In fact it looks as though too many Gringos get to these parts – some people are still friendly, but many seem to have had enough of foreigners.

And now I’m back in Huaraz. We found a cheaper hostal in a much better location (I’m beginning to like the Footprint guide book possibly slightly more than the Lonely Planet). We’ll take a rest day here. We probabaly don’t need the rest as much need to acclimitise again. But there is lots of food here, and the road goes up (significantly) to the south.

ET

I phoned home.
The news is that Gunjuk is walking, Catherine is ’still in one piece’, and Bec is reportedly doing well.

Good one (finally!), Good luck, and Keep it up/slow down with the work, respectively. Hope you don’t mind appearing on my blog

Further

From the valley, we continued downhill (fighting the headwind) for a few days through progressively more and more barren terrain, and made the coast. We turned left after some discussion – left was south (which was good) and also the direction the wind was coming from (clearly not so good). Riding north would have been easier – but that way is currently welcoming winter. Stuart tells me Winnipeg is already freezing over. So reluctantly we turned into the teeth of the wind.

The following day we beat the wind by rising at 4:45. Is this mean to be a holiday? Probably, but it is the only sensible thing to do – the wind appears somewhat magically just before midday and proceeds to blow into the afternoon. The coast was a roughly even mix of desert, fog, sun and wind. The possibility of some mariscos (seafood) kept me going.

I have developed a nickname from my Swiss companions - Panini (ok, so it’s from Italian, but it sounds close to the Spanish ‘Panicito’). I’m eating lots of bread. It’s normal for me, but obviously of note.

And then we were at Trujillo, after a reasonably long day. I seem to remember being here before… twice. Due to the road layout in northern Peru, it turns out that you would have to be rather mad, or a long way east to not go through Trujillo. There is one road through the mountains, but the number of passes looks obscene. Cunning planning by the Trujilloites. Luckily, Lucho, a Peruanian cycling champ runs his ‘casa de ciclistas’ here. After adding one (number 867) and reading (some) of the log book entries I am feeling suitably humbled – there are many, many very long distance cyclists coming through here. Just now, there are couples staying in the house traveling for 6.5, 2.5 and over 1 years. My poultry 2 months seems fairly feeble against this. But he’s a nice guy, lets us stay at his place, and I needed to do some washing. I also needed a new bottom bracket (turns out the bike sold to me as ‘total shimano/deore components’ has some super cheap parts that are becoming evident about now – after only about 2000km). The hubs also needed new cones/bearings, and that took a full day to complete (with meals as well ). Food was partaken. Sufficient quantities (of variable quality) to replenish the body.

This morning, Rachel, George and I said a good bye (or possibly a see you later) to Rebekka, Florian and Chan. Rebekka or Florian occasionally write quite a detailed and lengthy story on their blog, and this time it includes me! So be sure to check it out at www.dreirad.fenris.ca and keep up to date with what they are doing.

The goodbye was extended, so with our tardy start we manged to turn at “lets get going at 7am to beat the wind” into a struggle out of town at 11. But we’re back heading south, stopped tonight in a small place called Chao – my last hope of Mariscos (mmm, seafood) until… Chile? Somewhere a while away anyway. So with the coast so close, what did we eat…? Chicken. What were we thinking? At least there was no rice.

Next few days is up a hill. Toward Huaraz. Currently on the coast, so that means it will be up. And up. And not likely to have internet, so bye for now.

Chilete

A town with the most unpleasant hostel owner/operator I have come across (we only used this hostel because there as a garage for the bikes). Otherwise it is quite pleasant here. And a good days ride from Cajamarca.

I’ve updated the map again, and it is clear that the last section has been rather difficult (ie the dots, indicating nights, are much closer together). Today was a retun to the bigger distances. Once we’d climbed to 3200m again, it has been all downhill. At times rediculously steeply downhill, I don’t wish to come back up this road. More of the same coming up by the looks – down to the coast and then turn left toward Trujillo and Chimbote.

We’ve heard through various channels that the road just out of Trujillo has been the location for several robberies of cyclists in recent months. We have asked for an update from a local, and may resort to catching a bus/truck to bypass this area. The problem (or potential) has been a source of much conversation, and more than a little concern for the last few days. Hopefully it turns out to be nothing.

Cajamarca

I predicted two days, and it was. The pass from Celendín took us to the highest point on the ride so far, 3760m (despite what the maps say).

We camped just under the final pass overnight, which meant it was rather chilly, but the views were spectacular. Matched only by the friendliness of the chickens and rabbits.

From the top there is only one way, and yes, it is down. In a stroke of luck, the road is currently being widened, from a dirt track into a multi lane highway by the looks. In two years (so they tell us) there may be some tar on some parts of the road from Celendín to Cajamarca. I wouldn’t hold my breath. The luck comes in a little further down the road, afterthe road works, where the tar really begins! And the map showed another 30km of dirt. We were clearly happy, and may have taken a few photos to celebrate the event. It made the second half of the day much easier, and far, far faster (bombing down dirt roads can be fun, but it’s much more efficient to hurtle down freshly paved roads – top speeds are much faster on tar).

And so we reached the outskirts of Cajamarca, a place called Baños del Inca. Lots of history, lots of slaughter (bad Spanish) and hot springs. A rest day has been taken, but we voted with our feet, Baños didn’t hold that much attraction, and we’re now in central Cajamarca. Cajamarca likewise holds little attraction, and I think we’ll escape to the nicely paved road mañana.

In fact Cajamarca is probably a nice place, but my experience so far involves lots of noisey traffic (and crazy drivers), and searching for a hostel. It took us damn near 3 hours. I doubt it’ll get a rave review from what I see in the morning. I have to say there is a good vegetarian restaurant here. And lots of Internet cafés.

That was a big hill

Ok, so I left Chachapoyas, and the last tendrils of civility (or internet anyway) a looong time ago. Well it feels like a long time. I rode down to Tingo to look at the wonderful ruins of Kuélap (second only to Machu Picchu so I am reliably informed). They were pretty good, but I don’t have time for a write up here, see the Wikipedia page if you’re interested (ie click here).

And then I sort of blasted across the landscape, in chase of a couple of Swiss cyclists I knew were in front of me. I lunched at Leymebamaba, and then tackled a pass of 3600m. Coming down the other side I finally caught the Swiss, but they had turned into a family of three (with a three year old in a trailer) and another couple. So the couple were suddenly five. But so far they have let me hang around, and the company has been great.

The next morning we made our way slowly down the other side of the pass – 3600 to 900m really does take some time on these roads. Unfortunately it took us even longer to come back up the other side. The road was absolutely attrocious, I don’t know how they can get away with calling it a road. So it ended up taking an afternoon, a full day, and this morning to climb out of the valley to 3130m. That is one serious down and up. But really picturesque, and worth every drop of sweat. And camping for three nights. Unfortunately the road held me up more that I expected, and I’ve missed ringing home for Nana’s birthday, and Fathers Day. Woops, and sorry. I’ll try to find a phone around here somewhere later.

So now we (I say we as the group is still together – they haven’t sent me off yet:)) are in a reasonable sized town called Celindín. Only 100km or so from the big smoke of Cajamarca, but thet’ll probabaly take two days. We have supplies for three in case the road is bad.

Pity I can’t upload photos here. I have a few good ones from the last few days. When I can I will.