Peru

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

Advertisements

The Plans Are Changing

Sitting in a small, stuffy hotel room (fuck it, it’s cheap) in Nasca. Still in Peru. After almost three months it seems like it’s never going to end. A few days ago I saw a sign that indicated that I still have more than 1.000 km to the border. I do have to admit it’s starts to drag a little.
But on the other hand I’m glad that the mountains are behind me. Regardless of their beauty and mightiness they are though. Especially when, for I don’t know what day in a row, you wake up in a tent by the roadside and you know that it’s just going to be another day of grinding uphill and still it’s not going to end today. It’s simply wears you down.
It’s also because of this that I felt some kind of relief upon reaching the coastal lowlands. It will keep on going to be tough as it was shown to me in the first days of it since this is desert land. Here the sun and the wind can form a ruthless partnership that slowly but surely drain your energy away. But then again this combination does have it’s magic, especially in the evening when the day is saying it’s goodbye, the wind is calming down and the sun takes on a painter’s role of pastel colours on rocky or sandy plains which seems to get lost somewhere in infinity.
Though this plains can lose some of its magic in the morning when you are walking and walking in search of some privacy from the looks from the road and “restaurant” behind which you camped. I like to do my morning no. 2 in peace and a half-hour walk towards horizon when you can clearly sense movement in your intestines doesn’t feel that magic.

But let me try to go back to the theme I wanted to write about – The plans are changing.
Sometime in the last days of Ecuador my conscience started to receive the first signals that the Road in front of me is still long, very long. Mountains of Peru, plateau of Bolivia, desert of northern Chile, plains of central Argentina and to finish it off the Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. About 10.000 kilometres more. And timing isn’t really on my side. From about November up to March there is a rainy season in Peru and Bolivia. And as I was to later find out in the mountains of central Peru through first-hand experience, this in practice means afternoon storms. They seemed to be an everyday occurrence. Right around 14h everything is cloudy and an occasional thunder can be heard with a lightning brightening up the sky. Above 4.000 metres there is no rain but rather hail, from time to time even snow. Not that pleasant if not outright dangerous. Also because of this Andres and I normally stopped for the day around that time. With ample time to find maybe another roof over our head but surely some shelter from the wind that can be surprisingly cold and does keep on reminding you of any potential hole you might have in your windstopper.
This early calling it a day obviously slows you down. Since I’m no Lance Armstrong this additionally shortens the distance I get to cover daily. Consequently this prolongs my stay in Peru.
This much I did learn in my life that I cannot change the topography of the countryside nor can I do anything about the climate. This left me with no other option but to start looking at other options that would enable me to visit the places that I want to visit and in doing so try to avoid as much of inconveniences in form of rain and cold as I can. The more I have fiddled around with different options available to me, the more I started to realize that my physics teachers were right – it’s physically impossible to be at more than one place at the same time. It simply cannot be done! After being stuck for a while in this seemingly unsolvable puzzle a revolutionary thought passed my brain. What if I change my route and start to calculate to visit Tierra del Fuego next summer in the Southern hemisphere (i.e. December 17 – March 18)?!
Be as it may, in Life you can make plans for the future and worry about what is going to happen and then you meet reality and it forces you to change your plans a bit. And it’s not that bad at all, is it?! After all, it was Forrest Gump who said (well actually it was his mother but let’s not go into too many details): “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you gonna get!”

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

Just watched it the other day – memories!

 

snowing
Snowing!

 

goodbye_mountains_in_peru
Goodbye mountains in Peru!

On Education

Not going to write about how important it is to go to school, listen to the teacher, do your homework and all in all be a good student. No, what I will write is about the lack of education and how sometimes it is delivered in improper manner in some parts of the World.
In Peru, where I’m currently located, the lack of education can be seen on a daily basis. Just so that there will be no confusion or mistake, it’s not only Peru where this occurs. And that it is delivered in an improper manner was very explicitly demonstrated to Andres and me on one sunny day when we have reached yet another small town by the road.
After visiting several shops we managed to buy bread and butter so we decided to have a short break and have our lunch on the main square. In all Latin America the main square is reserved for a small park and it is surrounded by a church, usually the municipality building and sometimes some other very important public office.
This town was no different so we have searched for the only shadow that was available to us. While I was parking Lou I turned my head away from Andres and when I have turned it back once again, he was already surrounded by about ten kids aged on average around 10. Great, there goes a peaceful lunch. Countless questions were inevitable. So we sat, kids all around. We were trying to put butter on our bread without putting it on any of the heads that were curiously, annoyingly prying into us. The conversation soon touched the theme of God, his miracles and similar. The kids were able to dictate everything by heart.
I will not go into sensfulness of the education provided (forced!) by the Church since that would be more like a battle with windmills. The interest of capital here is just too strong. The sheep needs to be straighten out early, very early. Best if it is yet unable to read or write and later on any potential access to information needs to be cut off from it. Uneducated it can be more easily manipulated. And here in Peru (again, not only here but all over the World) they seem to be quite successful in doing so.
We have received lots of stares full of condemnation of heresy from the kids that have started to argue with us as we have said that our mothers gave birth to us and that we were not created by the angry dude with a grey beard that is hiding somewhere up above. It’s no surprise that we are meeting 15 year old mothers with babies.
But the purpose of this post is not just to be grumpy about it all. No, I actually have some constructive suggestions that I would like to share and to the best of my knowledge I will not be in any conflict with what the Bible is teaching (fuck it, I haven’t really study it so I cannot be sure).
Let me put some concrete ideas here (all references to the Bible are based on my vague memories, so there will not be any exact quotes):
1. When you are teaching them Genesis and how God created everything on Earth, do tell them that God’s idea did not include piles of shit and plastic on every step. And that he wants it to stay that way! – Maybe this way we can keep the countryside clean.
2. When you are describing to them the Last Supper. Do please put some emphasis on the fact that there is no mentioning of there being more than 13 of them in the room. That they had peace while they were eating and that nobody was asking Jesus why he talks so funny (e.g. “This is my body given for you…). – Maybe this way future cyclists passing through here will not get the feeling of being an animal in a ZOO. Maybe they will be able to avoid the situation where the municipality does provide you with an empty meeting room for the night. Just that you then end up sharing it for at least 3 hours with a night’s guard and two of his buddies, Them sitting at the table, observing you how you are repairing a bicycle, preparing yourself dinner, how you eat and wash dishes. Somehow we than managed to make them go away before we unrolled our sleeping bags and have fallen asleep. To avoid nocturnal observation we blockaded the door.
3. When you are teaching them the teachings of Jesus, in particular about loving thy neighbour. Do explain them this more in details. It seems that the current explanation does not have the desired effect. If it would have had, then we would not receive several times a day shouts of “Gringo!” with a very negative tone.
I will stop here so not to be too long. There are more ideas that I have. Maybe something in line of logical thinking as to avoid stupid questions. An example would be when they are staring at you with a bicycle, probably all sweaty and in the end they ask you: ”Don’t you get tired?” “No, you dumb idiot! I’m some sort of a special species from another planet that gets tired only if it lays still!”
Obviously there is plenty of other, way more useful knowledge than knowing the whole story about a madman that has heard voices in his head, built a boat on top of a mountain into which he put two specimens of every species on Earth (by the way, today, a few thousand years later we are still discovering new species). Maybe they could do something in the direction of general knowledge. This way people (e.g. police) would not be asking Andres where is Argentina. The whole continent has 12 independent countries. And maybe he would not be congratulated by the locals on how good he speaks Spanish.
I will not go into the fact that some of them have no idea that Europe is another continent when the debate comes to a point when they ask me where I’m from.

It could be that I have high expectations, but we have to aim high!

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

a_more_representative_photo_of_the_landscape
Surely a more realistic photo of a Peruvian landscape

It Is Never Boring In Peru

As usually I have problems starting this text. I’m sitting behind a table in a backpackers in Huaraz, listening to music and drinking coffee. Behind me is more than 1.300 km of Peru, a land that is all but boring. Diversity comes on many levels from the countryside to people and events that have all impact on my every day.
One of the first surprises after I left Ecuador in company of Safia and Andres, was the countryside. Generally I try to wander around the World with open eyes, free of stereotypes in my head that subconsciously affect one’s perception of a land, people, events… They build prejudices or some expectations that are inevitably shattered by the reality that inevitably leads to disappointment, a feeling of being robbed of a true, authentic experience that was actually sold to you through photos, movies, book,… That is why I prefer to leave these images outside and venture into uncovering the unknown with an empty head and open eyes (obviously when I’m not sleeping).
But I do not always succeed in this effort. At least not in fullest. Whether I like it or not, over the years an image of Peru was carved into my head. An image of white Andean peaks, high mountain steppes, solitary houses with herds of lamas grazing outside. And then this image collided with reality. Hot river valley with rice paddies of intense green and palms. As if I woke up in Vietnam. A few days later I was amidst clouds where we were being washed by the rain making our way through green pastures and woods over 3.600 meters high pass. And the same day found me in yet another hot oasis by the river, surrounded by mango trees and thousands of small, bloodsucking flies.
And those were not all the landscapes that I have managed to encounter so far in Peru. No, there are also the coastal desert with wind sweeping sand across the road (that evening I got about half a kilo out of my right ear. Apparently the wind was from the side since my left ear was clean). Or the narrow Cañon del Pato where on a winding road, sometimes narrower than some cycling lanes I have rode on, and through 35 tunnels you get lost amidst the infinite majesty of vertical cliffs towering to mindboggling heights. And there is more and more of this, probably somewhere there is also the landscape of the images in my head.

For diversity there are also everyday events that break up the “monotony” of the evening ritual in front of the tent. If this used to be time when all was in order and I was able to indulge myself in solitude and peace, this is also slowly changing here in Peru.
Once I got this brilliant idea to change a little the music I’m listening on my mp3 player. And then the next three evenings I was fixing the mess my little player managed to mix up. After those three evenings have passed, it was about time to wash a load of laundry. To take the advantage of having access to running water on our campsite. The next evening I was patching my air mattress. It’s been a while since I managed to puncture it just by the seam so that, just in case, I had a bit more of a work patching it. And then there are evening I pay more attention to Lou. It’s wise to clean a bit the chain after a day when the road took us through mud. And if there is nothing to do, then I invent something. Since Andres and I were camping on a stadium and there were pieces of wire for a fence I took pliers in my hands and made an improvised adapter for my camping stove. I can now lift my pot a bit above the flames so that I can calmly cook rice without the fear of burning it. There’s always something to do.

And obviously there are also the people that I meet. The part of the story that brings life to the backdrop of the landscape. What I have learned very early on (actually in the first hours of Peru) is that when word comes down to people, here in Peru this is a story of extremes. Practically there is no middle way. They are either incredibly friendly and kind or completely cold. Obviously there is far more of the former, but the latter also have an impact.
When we crossed the bridge from Ecuador into Peru, we had to wait for the Peruvian immigration starts to work. Since we were all hungry we went to the first restaurant. The kind that serves a menu consisting of whatever one dish is on offer that day. Angry looking lady reluctantly came to us and showed us our table. Her short and murmured answers made us quickly realize it is better not to ask too much. So we’ll have soup, rice and chicken. Andres tried asking for a beer, but the lady almost killed him with her look when he desired to be a cold one. He did not get it! Safia had an empty battery on her phone so she ask if she can charge it for a while. Negative! I had no desire for a new dose of negativity so I ate in silence what was put in front of me.
Than we made it across the street to the incredibly kind, relaxed and talkative policeman that did not complicate our lives the way border officials sometimes can. And that evening the municipality in the nearby town provided us with a place to camp with access to toilet and shower.
And then there are moments when I simply don’t get the people here. Let’s leave aside the fact that I will never, and I mean never understand the uncontrollable desire to hunk their horns. I “adore” it when a truck hunks it right behind your ass. Not to greet you or to show that he’s mad at you (at least I think so) it’s just a way to let you know he is there. BUT I know he’s there. There are this little thingies called side mirrors if I completely ignore the fact that I can actually hear him from a distance on an empty road. Obviously this is a moment when you really cannot afford to get scared. If you twist your handlebar just by a little you can end up under the wheels of the same truck. It seems beyond the driver’s capacity to pass you by with ample space. No, he turns just enough not to hit you. Providing you do not divert 15-20 centimetres from a direct line.
The only time the drivers here do not hunk their horns is when there is a sign they should. Like in front of a narrow, one-lane tunnel in Cañon del Pato. Go figure!
There are also moments when you get to a gas station. Camping stove works on gasoline and every now and then you have to fill up your fuel bottle. It’s just that this is not always a straight-forward procedure as we manage to reaffirm yet again the other day. A lady was observing us from a distance as some sort of an attraction but only approached when we went to search for her and ask her to attend to us. Since they are used to filling up motor and car fuel tanks, they seem to have troubles adjusting to the fact that a one litre bottle that I’m carrying with me gets full much, much sooner. So you have to warn them to fill it up slowly and not all the way. This does not always help. That time I manage to stop here just in time to prevent a fuel shower since the lady was incapable of stopping the pump in time. Sometimes you are not as lucky.
Also shopping is not always a simple and stress-free task. If you do manage to be lucky and you are the only customer, meaning that the vendor is only attending you and not four other persons, then you have managed to eliminate a common cause of a stressful situation in shopping. This however does not guarantee you a simple procedure. What can happen is the following:
“What do you want?”
“Good day to you too. Do you have cigarettes?”
“No!”
You look around and you notice a display with an entire row of cigarette boxes in it.
“What about these ones here in the display?”
“Oh, these. I do have!”
Obviously you have to pay an exact amount as the lady either cannot be bothered to calculate or count the change she has to give back. I come out furious – again Peru!
And as was writing these lines, Andres came to me. He just went outside to buy some rice. He puts a can of fish in front of me. To my confusing look he answers, it was a gift from the shopkeeper where he was buying rice. Still confused I look at him and he explains that he basically went to the store to buy about half a kilo of rice. The shopkeeper asked him where he’s from, what he’s doing here and so on. And after he told him that he’s traveling on a bicycle and that there are two of us, the shopkeeper first put a bit more than just half a kilo of rice in a bag and added the two cans of fish. As a gift! – again Peru!
I would be able to turn this already long post into an even longer if I was to write down all the moments when I experienced the kindness of the local people. From places to sleep when a family accepts us into their modest home and basically vacates a child’s room just so that three cyclists have a warm place with a roof over their head that they can sleep in whilst outside it’s pouring rain. Or when… No, I really cannot write down all the kindness. I am however extremely grateful for it.

I’m finishing this text behind the same desk in the same hostel, still in Huaraz. Still listening to music it’s just that the coffee has been by now replaced by a tea from coca. Apparently it helps you adjusting to the altitude, beats the weariness and so much more. I like it because it’s hot.

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

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