Beer

Sometimes It’s Good To Have A Plan

And I’m back. Not only am I publishing a new post, I’m also back in Bolivia. In the meantime I had a short trip north, to Peru.

From Potosi I have headed towards Uyuni, like I have announced in my previous post. The route that I chose has lead me, after 4 day, to the main road La Paz – Uyuni. Into a small town, Challapata. Here you turn left and you head south. First Uyuni, then Argentina and a few kilometres (let’s say 5 – 6 thousand) later you are on Tierra del Fuego, at the end of the World.
It’s just that I had a small errand up north. Despite almost 4 months that I have spent in Peru last year, I still haven’t visited Machu Picchu. And I cannot finish my stay in South America without visiting it’s probably most famous tourist attraction. But since I was (and again am) about 1.000 km away from it and since there is more or less only one main route leading there and back and because … Well, because I felt like it, I have decided to leave Lou here with Luis, the owner of a cheap accommodation in Challapata and to take a bus to Machu Picchu. I wouldn’t exactly call this an easier option (changing on small local bus for another, a bit bigger and then with the biggest one to Cusco – just the last part was almost 14 hours on a bus), but it certainly is a faster option. This way I will be left with some more time for Argentinian south and will still manage to reach Tierra del Fuego before the southern winter.

I have started with a rough plan, a minivan to Oruro, then a bus to La Paz and another bus to Cusco, ancient Inca capital which also serves a first base camp for at least 95% visitors to Machu Picchu. From there on, I’ll figure it out.
After the bus marathon, I was in Cusco at 6 a.m. There I found a cheap hostel and after a morning coffee and a short brake, the work has begun. Already in advance I knew that a visit to Machu Picchu should not be taken lightly. There are two main, interconnected reasons for this. Given the fact that this is one of the biggest if not the major tourist attraction of South America, everything connected to it is very touristy. And this means highly overpriced. Even before I came here I have searched the web a little. And the numbers I saw almost made me forget about the whole thing.
First there is the entrance fee which is almost 40 EUR. Then one has to get there. The train (which is the official means of transportation since there are no roads) from Cusco is probably by kilometre the most expensive train on the planet. For roughly 110km to Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu Pueblo), second base camp, the cheapest ticket costs almost 50 EUR. This makes it almost 50 cents per kilometre. And just as much for return! And then there is accommodation in Aguas Calientes since if you want to escape the main tourist rush, it pays of to be among the first one’s there,… The numbers made my head spin, so I left the details of this part of the expedition for Cusco.
But once in Cusco, I had to face the fact that now I’m here and that I cannot postpone any more organizing the visit. I need a plan!
So I went out, making a tour of the tourist agencies which in the city centre are more abundant than trash bins. After visiting about ten of them, I had a rough picture and I surely had no more motivation to visit another one. In every one there is a seller with a cheap smile that then presents you with the most expensive option. Before you manage to stop him/her in order to ask about cheaper alternatives, you are almost without any desire to keep on. And this scenario was repeated almost 10 times. The options are more or less the same at all of them, the only difference is the price and sometimes not even that. However you still have to pick one.
Then I went in line for the entrance ticket to Machu Picchu (it has to be bought in advance since they do not sell them at the entrance). At least this task is much easier. There is the official ticket office and you have to buy it there. And the price is fix, no haggling or anything like that.
Entry ticket in hand I made my way back to one agency. The one that was closest and cheapest. It is possible to reach Machu Picchu even without the train or, again official, 4-day trekking (which is obviously even more expensive than train). There is a back door which is a marathon of local buses, minivans, maybe even riding a llama. This way you can come within about 10km of Aguas Calientes (second base camp) by road. From there to the town itself is about 2 hours walking along the train tracks. The bus marathon and the llamas can be avoided by going to a tour agency and buying a seat on a direct minivan. And that is what I have done.
First part of expedition planning behind me, the second to be done in Aguas Calientes.

On the day of departure I was at the agreed upon location (in front of the agency) at the agreed upon time (7 a.m.). But I was the only one keeping up the agreement. The agency was closed and there was nobody in sight until 8 a.m. when a guy showed up. After we established that he was looking for me he took me in a taxi almost to the other side of the city where a van was waiting only for me to show up. I have climbed inside, took and empty seat and braced myself for a 6 – 7 hours ride. Our driver made it in under 6. Probably because he was convinced that he is the reincarnation of Colin McRea, judging by the way how he drove.
After two hours walking I found myself in Aguas Calientes, the most touristy town in Peru. Second phase of conquering Machu Picchu can begin. Searching for accommodation! After about an hour I have in light of my plan and budget the most optimal location. A hostel that starts to serve breakfast at 4 a.m. This is very important for the execution of the third phase which is the climb itself. If I want to avoid the hordes of tourists, then I have to aim at being among the first ones at the entrance which opens at 6 a.m. Satisfied with the execution of the second phase I treat myself a beer before heading to bed (it also makes it easier to fall asleep).

The next day phase three begins. In accordance with the plan this means getting up at 3:45 a.m., breakfast at 4, a morning visit to the toilet and at 4:40 starting from the hostel. Just before 5a.m. I join a line at the bridge. We are waiting for it to open. On the other side and almost 500 metres higher is Machu Picchu. There is about 8km of a zig-zag road leading up or not even 2km long walking trail which goes more direct and is almost all staircase. You can also take a bus, but that is almost 10 EUR one way.
At 5 a.m. the bridge opens, I cross it a 5:10. The gate at the top opens at 6 a.m. so I have to hurry. The walking trail is supposed to take about 1h, I make it just under 40 minutes. Sweating and cursing all the way, but I do not stop. I know if I stop, it will take a while to start again.
I’m not the first one at the top, but I am among the first ones. When the gates finally opens, I pick up the pace a bit and at the first possible option I take a turn away from the herd. Left and up towards a viewing point. A few more stairs, a bit of left-right and I get a view of Machu Picchu without tourists. A photo and then I look for a quiet spot (yes, this early such spots can be found). There I sit down and admire the remains of the Incas’ hidden city basking in the morning sun below. Plan successfully executed!

Up here I’m in almost complete silence. There are just two employees down there making noise with a couple of weed-whackers!
You cannot plan everything in Life. There always have to be room for surprises. Like for a beautiful sunny day, which is not so common on Machu Picchu.

With a Smile on my face, until next time!
Simon

On A Bus
First Across The Bridge
A Map
Stairs
I Was Not The First One
A Bunch Of Rocks
Through A Window
Streets Of Machu Picchu
On A Rock
The Crowds Are Coming – I’m Out Of Here!
Llama Could Not Be Bothered
Evening Reward

The Illusive Peru

And I’ve managed. September came and went without me being able to put together a single post. The first month since I have set off from Halifax without posting a word. Actually I did not take the time to write, the time to take a break that would surpass the basic regeneration that the body needs and essential errands like taking care of my bicycle, shopping (mainly food), washing (to avoid any misunderstanding – hand-washing) of clothes and similar.
There are several reason why this was so but I think what was forcing me to push forward was the feeling that I’m not putting in enough of an effort, that I’m simply not doing the distance. I had several days when I made 15, maybe 20km. Far from the average 70km somewhere far away in Mexico. Not to mention the days in the US when a hundred was something ordinary (then it was my shrinking wallet that pushed me on). And this slow progress was subconsciously bothering me and it took me quite some time to basically accept the fact that this is my current speed. It is the only possible outcome when you are hauling 60+ kg of Lou, equipment, food and water from one mountain to the next. And this being southern Ecuador!
I left Loja, from where just over a month ago I managed for the last time to give you some updates on my progress, in a group – Safia, Andres and yours truly. We abandoned the Panamericana in direction – South, Peru. Just short of 200km which could translate into about 5 days. How naïve.
We started excellent, one hill, sheltering under the roof of a national park entrance during a short shower followed by a descend into a sunshine and warmth. And here the first complications started. Me being the first of the convoy I managed to miss a bypass around a small town of Malacatos. Not that it’s not possible the go through it but going through turned out to be more challenging than anyone imagined. The locals immediately informed us that this day was the last (and the most important) day of the fiesta. Fireworks, live music, people on streets, basically your all inclusive fiesta deal. Needless to say we were left to no other option but to search for a location where we can set up our tents, leave our stuff in a safe place and go out to see this Event. Just for a beer! Not really any more accustomed to drinking so a second one could already lay us down.
Well, it was not just one beer, there were two. And they would not be so much of a problem if we would not have ventured in the direction of discovering local flavours which lead us to meet canelazo. This is hot water with cinnamon that is mixed in 50:50 ratio with homemade aguardiente made from sugar cane. And the fiesta just got started.
The aftermath was well visible the next day and with a great deal of effort we made it to Vilcabamba, a town just 10km away. There the friendly firefighters gave us a little bit of roof under which we could unroll our sleeping bags, sheltered from the water that the sky was generously distributing all around us.
The next two days we spent getting to the other side of the mountain chain and soaked to the bone from the rain that was pouring on us all the way down we entered the outskirts of Amazonia. Greenery intensifies as well as humidity. And an occasional shower can occur (thou I have to admit that there weren’t many). What attracted more of my attention was the change that occurred to the road surface. This combined with the heat and humidity made an impact on our speed of progress. We said goodbye to asphalt in Loja. There it has changed to concrete slabs (the kind that are cut every 5 metres so that riding on them gently shakes you so that you do not fall asleep. Wait, that’s when you are riding in a car, on a bicycle it just shakes all the time, no benefits from that). But then after a few days we had to bid farewell also to concrete. What was left was a road of densely compacted dirt with some rocks. Luckily for us there was not a lot of rain since I was able to imagine, on some wet spots, the sticky mud the surface easily be transformed into with just a bit of water. And just to top it off, so we really wouldn’t dare to think of making any fast progress, the Ecuadorean engineers made sure that the road does not stick to the bottom of the main valley. It rather goes parallel to it over the hilltops that separate the smaller valleys of the tributaries. This way we were able to keep alive the logic of antennas and bridges from my previous post. And to make it less monotonous they did not bother too much with the gradient of the road. Those who wish to pass here will make the effort and climb if needed. So there were occasions when we were left with no other option but to descend and push our bikes uphill.
Every morning I managed to realize that this is just not going to be the day I will see Peru.
I will remember the last evening we spent in Ecuador. After yet another climb we descended a bit and found ourselves in a small village named El Chorro. In the middle of the village was a small park with the one and only shop on the corner, next to it a church. It was just past 15h. After a short consultation we were came to a conclusion that we will call it a day here. Continuing would mean the remainder of the descend and a new climb and maybe, just maybe there would be Peru on the other side. Probably not! We do not have neither the strength nor the motivation to venture into this unknown today. We have a bad experience from yesterday when we optimistically set off from a village in a valley around 15h. At 16:30 we made it midway uphill almost dead. The gradient and the dust of the road under a burning sun left their impact.
So Andres and I savoured our last Pilsener in Ecuador, then we moved in front of the church where we set up our camp for the night and started to prepare dinner, enjoyed the unique and unrepeatable moments of the sunset and after dinner, when it was already dark we sat each in front of its tent. Each one with his/her thoughts, emotions and somehow jointly observed children playing in the square in front of us.
There was 6-8 of them, divided into two groups. They set 5 half a litre plastic bottles in a triangular formation as if for bowling and then from a distance targeted this with a ball. Once they managed to knock the formation over they scattered. The group that managed to knock over the plastic bottles then tried to reach them and reconstruct their original formation while the other group, the ones possessing the ball, tried to prevent this. This they could achieve by throwing the ball at them and the one that got hit was eliminated from the game. I personally was most impressed by the fact the kinds were of all age groups. From about 4 up to about 12 years. And they had no troubles playing together, outdoors and with a real ball. A real Playstation.
Watching the kids playing my mental fatigue of yet another day still without reaching Peru slowly faded away. A new thought started to sprinkle up in my relaxed mind. A thought that I really have reached the end of the World. This is what I have pictured myself the end of the World looks like. As a village that is 2-3 hour of diverse mototaxi ride (a bit less with a bus, but then again the bus seems to pass here only every third rainy Friday) away from the nearest town which in itself is what seems to be lightyears away from the nearest city. A village where kids still freely play together on the street and have no idea what Pokemon Go is (truth be told, the author of these lines also has only a vague idea about what that is. To be honest, this absence of knowledge of the latest trends and current hits does not bother me even a bit, on the contrary). A village where you can buy a cold beer in the one and only shop. But only if you have exact change. The lady in the store has no desire to calculate the difference let alone to count the coins for change if a crazy thought of paying with a 10 dollar bill occurs to you.
At the end of the World, this was the thought with which I finished the day.

The next day we were faced again with the new reality that was strikingly similar to the reality of the last few days. Descend during which you lay a lot of faith and hope into brakes and cables, crossing a river (sometimes on a bridge, sometimes washing your feet), optimistically into uphill, descent from a bicycle, pushing upwards, several short brakes, finally summit and – what the fuck, just a military check-point, there is more to climb onwards. And then descend, after every curve yet another one. Peru is nowhere to be seen. As if Peru was just an illusion that someone once managed to picture and I have chosen to believe in its existence. Like some mythical promised land.
And yet, it’s not an illusion. There comes a moment when after one curve I manage to see first a river that divides the two countries. Then, on the other bank, I can see a wide, dark grey speck that follows the river. It cannot be true, it simply cannot be true that there is asphalt on the other side! And in that precise moment Peru really appears to me as a promised land.
This sight overwhelms me to the point I almost do not make the curve. After all the breaking, the breaks simply are not as efficient as they used to be. And the gradient demands them, demands them 100%. Luckily there is very, veeeery little traffic so no car comes the other way.
We almost wake up the border police in Ecuador so that they can stamp our passports. The barrier is down (probably nobody could be bothered to lift it) so we make it under it on to the bridge and stop in front of an empty Peruvian immigration post. There is nobody there. Some people tell us that they “open” in 2 hours.
When we come back later there is a policeman (at least I think it was a policeman, adidas jersey and jeans that the guy was wearing do spring some doubt). He warmly greats us, we chat a bit and then he asks us how long would we like to stay in Peru. Given the progress of the past three weeks and the fact that Peru is about 5 times the size of Ecuador, I’m inclined to say 2 years, but I bit my tongue. I ask for 6 months, the guy offers 4, we settle on 5 or 150 days. Hopefully this should do it!

With a Smile on my face, until next time!
Simon

The Road Behind Me
Just A Little Bit More
Sheltering From A Tropical Rain
And Again – Pushing Uhill
Aftermath Of A Fall
This Time Crossing With A Bridge
Last Evening In Ecuador
Company On The Road

New Orleans

After passing the 5.000 km milestone on a Saturday evening I have arrived to New Orleans. Yes, absolutely a completely different world, unique among the places I have visited so far on the route. And as it is supposed to be, I took it in as a “reward” for the 5.000 km. I’ll let the photos tell the story!

And as you can see, I did eat my way through New Orleans!

Back amongst people

One of the reasons why it took me so long to write the post previously is the fact that I tried to conserve the battery on my notebook. When you sleep in the tent the wall normally does not have sockets to plug in your charger. So I try to conserve the battery so that I have it available for checking my mails, to communicate with the world and to arrange my accommodations when necessary.
In in an attempt for the story not to repeat itself, I have decided to write this post on paper and just retype it when I get to electricity. This time around however it got complicated in a different way since I have managed to drop my notebook on the floor. The result was a broken screen and a nonfunctioning power button. So I had to leave it at a repair shop in hope the magician there will be able to somehow make it work. At least that I will be able to power it on and off. Broken screen I can somehow deal with. In the mean time I using the computer of my warm showers host Zach (which is evident in the Slovenian version of the text since it is missing our special characters).
But all this is a completely different story, one that I might get back to some other time. What is following now is the post I wrote on paper.
After the three nights on the C&O Canal I had decided to leave the trail behind and get back on the road, into civilization and amongst people. The main reason was the fact that the trail was very muddy due to the everyday rain and thunderstorms. Not only that riding a muddy trail leaves you covered in mud from head to toe, but riding in mud is also much harder and slower. So I have switched from trail to road and immediately hit a climb or better said a series of them. Some were so steep that I had to get off of my bicycle three times and just push it along. Descend was equally interesting. The length and the gradient combined made my brake pads barely useful at the ned and the rims were very hot. That means – a break for the equipment to cool off. And then to the first town where I wanted to do some shopping (food and tobacco). Well this did not work out as planned. The town, judging by the map not to small, was in reality only a few houses and a post office. In search of a coffee and food the nice lady at the post office directed me towards VFW. So I went there thinking that this is just another chain of grocery stores. Well, it is not! It is war veterans club. And to my luck this one was open to nonmembers as well so I was able to get in.
My desire for coffee transformed itself in to ordering the cheapest cold beer. 2USD for 0,33l Budweiser. Shocked at the price (the cheapest beer here in the US I have had so far) I have expressed my desire for food in form of ordering a cheeseburger and fries (5USD). And I was making my way through my lunch, the clubs quartermaster came. After some standard questions (who, from and to where and how) on his side and some standard replies on my side led to the man buying me 2 more beers.
Lunch break just got a lot longer but still not long enough to prevent me from doing some more kilometers today. So I’ve pushed on!
Across the Potomac River into West Virginia where I was greeted by rain whichh I managed to shelter it out on a gas station. Since it did not show as if I could get an affordable option to spend the night in this town (i.e. pitching my tent), I went on in hope I manage to set up my tent before the next rain comes in.
West Virginia is mountainous (reminds me of Gornejska region back home, just the mountains here are much lower) so climbs and descends are a common thing. At the end of one such descend there was a farm to my right. From the barn by the road I hear some human voices, so I’ve pulled over. A young couple Jenna and Shane was there so I ask them if it would be OK with them if I pitch my tent on their property. Without much hesitation they’ve agreed and point me towards the river where they have an actual camping ground for trailers. They ask me if I need anything else and I ask for some water. In reply they say they will bring it to me later.
Location for the tent is perfect and what is even better, I set it up under a small pavilion next to one trailer. This way I’ll have additional roof over my head and the tent will be dry in the morning. So as the few T-shirts and under ware I had washed the previous evening which the rain managed to soak all night long.
Jenna and Shane arrive a little later with water and a bag of food for the road (sandwiches, snacks and fruits). A nice thank you is in order since I do not have anything else to offer. Once they are gone I head towards the river to wash myself (no swimming thou). This is followed by the evening ritual of coffee, cigarette and diner.
Sleeping under a roof is nice as well!

Cycling into city

Last post regarding Canada. Currently I’m in the USA, but more on this topic in my next post.

This time around a bit about cycling into cities in Canada. I have visited 3 bigger cities in Canada, Halifax, Quebec City and Montreal. Same order of appearance when it comes to size.

Halifax will only be briefly mentioned since it was already mentioned in my first post from the road and since I was there under the pressure of the lost luggage and in anticipation of the first spins of the pedals. Actually I did not cycle into the city. So much about Halifax

Quebec City is one of the oldest in North America and if we are to believe the description in Lonely Planet it is the only fortified city north of Mexico City. It was fought over by the French and the English up until the mid 18th century. And this history forms today’s character of the city. Old city centre is still surrounded by city walls and the narrow streets are packed with tourists that find this type of a city foreign. And there lots of tourists.

Coming into the city I took a ferry from the neighbouring Levis and in search of a city map I headed towards tourist information centre. In advance I have memorized a rough, according to the map the easiest way. Well, once I wrote down the name of the street to take it should have been clear to me that this is not going to be easy. You do not need to speak French to realize that a street called “Cote de la Montaigne” has to do something with an uphill. And yes, it does. So Simon dismounted from Lou and pushed all of his more than 50kg uphill.

Finding a way into the city is always easier than finding your way out and managing to end up on the road that you want. But somehow I managed to do that as well. Next big city was Montreal. Through warm showers I found a host that kindly accepted my request. But I needed to come there. From Quebec to Montreal there is more than 250 km so I have spent a night in Trois-Rivieres. And in the morning headed into what turned out to be 149 km long stage. To keep me company I hade fairly strong head wind most of the time and a grey, heavy sky above me. And as a “reward” I got a downpour. The more I tried to reach Montreal before nightfall, the more it was becoming obvious that this is not going to happen. Wind has slowed me down for at least 2 hours and the rain did not help to boost my morale. But there was some sun in the evening. But I still did not manage to reach my goal of the day. I finally arrived at 21:30 and Jean-Francois, my host for the next few days, met me on the street. The deal was that I stay at his place for 3 nights, crashing on the living room floor which for me personally is just fine. But sometimes after the struggles of the day in the evening Life greets you with an unexpected reward. Jean-Francois told me that he had to leave the city on business and that yes, I can stay at his place. The whole apartment just for me. And yes, there is cold beer in the fridge. I have finished off the evening with a cold one and a cigarette on a balcony overlooking a park.

Struggles of the day were behind me and far away. Life is beautiful.

Thousand

First thousand done!

I_can_change_focus_on_my_Camera
Thousand

Thousand
Yes, I can change focus on my camera

Sitting in a pub in Quebec City and reflecting on the first thousand.

Biere_a_Quebec
Biere a Quebec

A lot has happened on this first thousand. Already on the first day it became obvious that is going to be different than the first time. Previously I was really lucky with the weather. It’s not that this time around I’m not lucky, just not as lucky as the first time.

I had rain and head wind, sun and tail wind. It was cold (well relatively for May/June) and warm (no, hot it was not, not yet). I have camped in the company of bloodsuckers and without them. Camping was done in rain and in sun. Legs were excited about pedalling but also tired and heavy. Mentally I was high and also not so excited.

But I have a feeling that the legs got accustomed (lacking real hills but all in due time) and my ass is not complaining.

Anyhow, considering all, things are going according to the plan. Unexpectedly and in the right direction!