Where are all the bike shops?

Hummmm..... steel bolt in aluminium frame, should be relatively easy to get out I hear you say, well no as a matter of fact it's not, well in Bolivia its not.  After chasing round the non existent bike shop, then a mate of the B&B owners we should have stayed at (more on this later), it all came down to a too risky hard drill bit so we decided to go the expensive route and order a new rack that can be fitted on the quick release of the rear wheel.

As this was the best option we also decided to order some extra special puncture resistant super duper tyres as Rich was getting sick and tired of repairing tubes! Therefore we find our selves staying longer than we had planned in Sucre, which is no hardship as we had specifically picked this place for Christmas as it was so nice.

So we are waiting for our parcel to turn up, how long UPS will take to get them here is anyone's guess, so far it has gone from Ireland to England to Germany to Kentucky to Florida and now it is in San Salvador so who knows where it will go next?? hopefully Bolivia but you never know.....so for now we wait.

We had much more thrilling things to worry about in the run up to Christmas, like where we were going to stay.  Should have been simple.... two weeks or so before Christmas work out where we are going to be..... look on web for reasonably prices good accommodation, email a booking, confirm booking, turn up, relax, enjoy Christmas.  Simple, straightforward, uncomplicated.  so why were we walking round on the 23rd looking for a new hotel?  Well it appears that while the owner is a great guy, very friendly and helpful his administration skills area little haphazard to say the least, we were not the only ones double booked!!

The saga went something like this (take a big breath), we arrived earlier than expected and had booked in to one hotel, bit soulless but ok, so we phoned up asking if we could book in early, sorry full, ok we will turn up on 23rd, byebye.  Then an email, oh oh i'll cancel booking as am sure you do not want to move, response.. NO we want to come to you for Christmas, OOOP's i have double booked you, have checked and you can stay next door.  come today, sorry can't today, OK tomorrow.  Yippee, have sorted nice quite B&B for Christmas.  Turn up, next door is full!! luckily 1 room for 1 night available as late cancellation. Don't worry I have booked you in somewhere else, nice place go tomorrow, I wander down and find paint peeling off the wall, drab brown bedspreads in cold soulless room, NOT staying here for Christmas, it sooooo depressing.  So that is the story of how we found ourselves walking round Sucre looking for accommodation on the eve of Christmas eve!!and like good budget conscious travellers like we are we threw money at the problem and it went away.

Now with this lovely hotel room in a prime location Christmas should have been more exciting than it was, however that is not counting my ability to catch a cold whenever we stop for a wee while after some serious riding!!  So Christmas day was spent with me alternating between boiling hot and freezing cold and feeling just plain grim, luckily it was just a heavy cold and not flu as I first thought.

We are now residing back at the original B&B where are bikes are and the parcel are turning up, we are keeping ourselves entertained by playing chess on the magnetic travel chess set I gave Rich for Christmas or faffing about on the internet, we are quite bored and are working on my tax return THAT'S how bored we are, oh and have finally established that you can not download music on to a linux system in Bolivia.

The Road... better make that, the Track to Sucre

In our last post I was somewhat unkind to Oruro, the town centre it turns out was delightful. The guide book is not overly enthusiastic from a backpackers point of view, but we found it a pleasant enough place to spend time.

Oruro Square

The road to the east heading towards Potosi and Sucre was sealed for 40kms or so. The only downer was that we picked up 3 punctures on the road from various bits of road debris. I think we need to have a look into a couple of replacements for the Specialized tyres that are proving to be none to resistant to, well, anything really.

The road splits just before the town of Machacamarca, and we took the left fork towards Huanuni, a mining town, whose centre piece is an open sewer running through the middle of it. We'd planned to spend the night here but, were disinclined to stay once we'd had a look around for a few minutes.

After asking around we found the track out of town. It was a river bed heading to the South East. It looked like we were on a diversion as they were working on improving the road. In fact once we'd found the road itself, it transpires that they were doing more than that, they were tarmacing it. Happy days! We sped along until it started to climb... this might not be so bad after all.

At the end of the first day's ride we even managed to find a lovely camp site across the river bed from the main road.

Camp site

The next morning we continued to climb... and climb. To over 4400m in fact. The road was steep. The gentle gradients of Peruvian road builders are clearly not followed by their Bolivian equivalents. It was hard going all day, and at Uncia the tarmac stopped. We'd finally found the dirt!

We decided to camp, so we pushed on past Cala Cala and another steep climb. A few miles past the town we found a dirt track that appeared to head nowhere, where we decided to have tea and to wait out the remainder of daylight until we could put up the tent. It was just as we finished eating that we realised our mistake. The first of the llama herders, complete with accompanying llamas headed past on their way home for tea. After the 10^th group we realised we may have made a mistake, but it was too late to move on. Certainly there was nothing up the steep sided valley. So we stayed put, and fortunately had a sound night's sleep.

The climb the following morning was gruelling, but seemed not as long as the previous day. We reached the top to be met with a hugely deteriorated road. 6 inch corrugated ruts caused by cars travelling too quickly along the unsealed road.

Roads and Ruts and Mines

Passing by a high altitude lake, we came across, bizarrely, a pedallo in the shape of a swan moored up ready to go. The plain gave way to a sharp sided valley, and we followed the this down for over 1000 vertical metres. The road was littered with rocks and soft sand traps, which meant our speed had to remain low. I'd guessed we'd travel 35 miles a day at an average of 5 mph. A bit optimistic in these conditions as it turns out. We were averaging single figures even on the down hills. When the road turned upwards, to eventually climb back over 4000m, our speed was oh, maybe 3mph.... when we were cycling. 2 more punctures on the climb, this time in the heavily worn Schwalbe tyre on the back of my bike. Oh, and Den's chain snapped. 

Mining using hand tools.  Hard way to earn a living.

 

By the time we reached the village of Pocoata, we were both thoroughly exhausted and in need of a comfy bed. Unfortunately, of the two hostels in town, one was full (in Bolivia, we've started to suspect that some hostel in remoter parts have a dislike of strangers and say they are full even if they may not be) and the other was locked up. Looks like another night in the tent was calling. Fortunately, one of the team was not in the mood for three days more of bumpy dirty roads. So we resorted to plan B. Taxi. Now it's not far from Pocoata to Sucre, but we clambered into the taxi at 7pm expecting a long and bumpy trip.

The reality was worse than we could expect. 8 hours of being thrown around. And this was us taking the chicken's easy way, cycling's too hard route... well it would have been murder on a bike. Got to Sucre at 3am and went in search of a hotel. Got let into one on the town square after hammering the door bell for a while. Had to have two showers to get rid of all the road dust before we could climb into the white sheets on the bed. Ahhh, bliss.

Sucre by Night

The following day we found that the head of a bolt that holds on Den's rear pannier rack had sheared off at some point, possibly during the taxi ride, but we'll need to get that fixed before we can carry on. Oh well, it's Christmas so we'll deal with that later.

Happy Christmas everyone!!

High Plains Drifting... Or La Paz to Oruro

Had a lovely day off exploring La Paz, doing a bit of shopping and checking out the ex-pat pubs in search of cider.  There's not a lot in terms of land mark tourist sights.  The hotel we stayed in was fairly centrally located so a lot of the things we needed were an easy walk away.

The climb out of the canyon that La Paz sits at the bottom of is over 500m.  Seeing as how we were only retracing our steps from on the way down, we cried off the 2 hours of hard work that cycling out would have entailed, and caught a taxi back to were we started the decent from.

After all the ups, downs, rain and wind of the last month, the ride to Oruro was essentially 230km of flat straight road.   So fast but sooooo boring!  The desolate altiplano stretched for miles to the horizon.  It might have been the kind of desolated isolation that could have inspired had it not been for the constant passing of trucks and coaches about 2 foot from your left shoulder.  Luckily we managed to avoid any actual contact with several tons of metal long enough to reach Oruro.

  

The road to Oruro

The first day out of La Paz, we reached the town of Patacamaya.  Which offered a choice of none too salubrious accommodation for the night.  In it's defence, the cost was about 3 quid.  But, as they say, you get what you pay for.  I was a bit worried when we went to the restaurant downstairs and I was told that I couldn't have a beer if I was staying in the hostel.  I guess there may have been some problems in the past.

Patacamaya

The second day into Oruro was a longer than average.  75 miles.  We were in two minds when we set out whether to do this trip in two or three days.  In the end, it was the lack of (open) accommodation along the way that made us decide to go for the extra mileage.

Oruro is apparently the folklore capital of Boliva.  There are a number of big festivals that occur throughout the year, and some interesting art on the way into town.  Unfortunately, it just goes to prove that that you can have all the culture you want.  If the side of the street is covered in dust and rubbish, then your town is still going to appear down at heal.  Anyhow, we are off to investigate to see if there is any more to this town than first impressions suggest.

Welcome to Oruro

Having looked on the web, the unsealed road between here and Sucre could be one of the hardest of trip so far.  Only, 210 miles.  It should take us about six days.  Let's hope so.  Looking forward to having Christmas in comfort.

68 miles to nowhere on the road to La Paz.

We had to cross two climbs that topped out at over 4100m on the first day out of Copacabana. Between the two, we crossed the lake on a rickety wooden ferry. Which felt okay when loaded with a couple of 4 x 4's and our bikes but I wouldn't have been very sure about, say a bus...

Came across a cluster of hotels 20 miles or so later, but since we hadn't reached our target of 50, we decided to ride onto the next town to crash there. Bit of a mistake. There was nowhere to stay. Neither there, or the next town, or in fact the next either. So as the sun set, we crept off the road to put the tent up.

The good news was that when we got up we were only 30 miles from La Paz. The traffic built steadily as we got closer to the capital. Not a problem, bar the collectivo drivers pulling in front of us at any moment to drop off a fare. Then an easy cruise down the Autopista into town and hopefully a decent night's sleep. Should be. The hotel has a strictly enforced curfew, of, oh 3am. Maybe not.

La Paz...

Puno to Copacabana

Our final full day in Peru. Really am disappointed to be leaving. We've both really enjoyed touring in Peru. Brilliant scenery and sights, very friendly people, easy to find decent accommodation and some challenging climbs... what do you mean Den? Oh, apparently big climbs are not a good thing.

50 miles on the road to the Bolivian border brought us to the town of Juli. The road mostly followed the shore of the lake so it was comparatively flat, well up until we reached the outskirts of Juli itself when the road climbed steeply to the town centre. There was a festival on in town. By the time we got there, it seemed to have been going on for most of the day judging from the drunkenness of the male population of town.

We took a room in the first hostel that had a spare room. We headed out to catch some of the parades and to stock up on provisions for the next day.  On the way back we met this guy.

The next morning, we stopped off at the beach.

On the way to the border crossing with Bolivia, we saw 3 cycle tourists in as many miles. Two of which were on a tandem going the opposite way to us, on their way to Lima from Buenos Aires. We were both quite missing Bertha after that.

From the border, it's only 8km into Copacabana. We picked a midrange hotel from the guidebook and checked in. The town is compact and it took us no time to look around. After changing some money and fixing ourselves with an early dinner we decided to get an early night. Unfortunately, there was a tour group who just wanted to PARTY in the function room downstairs. I must be getting so old. Anyhow, once the music had stopped at about midnight, one of their party decided to start a fight. Hurrah!! 

 

Final Push to Puno

Feeling a little the worse for our 85 miles yesterday, we had a bit of a late start from Juliaca. It's just under 30 miles to Puno, and the road is fairly flat and arrow straight for the majority of the time, so we started just after 10am after a filling breakfast in the hotel restaurant.

Getting out of Juliaca was easy. Out the door of the hotel and head south. We ended up running out of town on a 6 lane highway with big no cycling signs up.... which we continued to ignore until the road reverted to two lane type. There were no police to witness our law breaking thankfully, although after a while I got the feeling that it may not be strictly enforced anyhow as we over took yet another pedal rickshaw.

Had our fifth puncture of this leg of the trip just a few miles later. The Specialized tyres that came on Den's bike just aren't made for touring. A small piece of wire had punctured the carcass of the tyre and given her a slow flat on the rear wheel. As the tire had been wearing quickly we swapped it with my front tyre and hopefully we'll have fewer punctures for a while - there is less weight over the front wheels, so thorns etc. won't be forced through the tyre quite as easily. 

On the road to Puno...

As we neared Puno the road climbed for a 150 metres (vertical) over a few miles, before allowing us to coast into town, just ahead of the afternoon rain. We checked out a few hotels and ended up plumping for the Hotel Sillustani. A bit on the pricey side compared to some of the places we've stayed, but hey, welcome to Puno, tourist-tastic Gringo-ville. Luckily it's the low season so we wangled a discount.

Lake Titicaca....

Puno and around...

Just been out for an authentic Peruvian pizza.... mmm yum, oh and Den bought some Alpaca socks... mmm, questionable.

Machu Picchu

We've been climbing a few hills lately, here's one of them snaking it's way up the hillside, from back on the road between Nasca and Abancay

Sometimes, even though they look flat, they are in fact climbing...

Anyhow, we had a day off in Cusco.  The area surrounding the Plaza de Aramas in Cusco is picture postcard stuff, there's a couple of colonial era churches and alleys with Inca stonework foundations.  Reading up on it and there is lots to see and do in the city.  One of those times when you simply don't have long enough.  Our main reason for coming here though, like 90% of the other tourists I would imagine, is to see Machu Picchu.

First things first, how expensive is it to get to Machu Picchu?  Makes you wish that we'd visited the other free to view Inca ruins further back on the road to Abancay.  We took a kamikaze collectivo to Ollytambee.  Made it alive, just.  Then took the $34, 1 and a bit hour train to Aguas Calientes.  Which is the stop for Machu Picchu.  Guide book described it as most awful small town in Peru, but since that book was written they've spent lots of money doing it up.  Can't say there was too much wrong with it, and certainly unlike some cities in Peru, you never felt in imminent danger of being mugged.  Stayed in a fairly decent hotel, and got up at 4am to be ready to board the first bus up to Machu Picchu.

I won't even try to describe Machu Picchu, it's breathtaking.  Even if it does give the appearance, from a distance, of having been colonised by North Face attired ants.  So even if you are paying for the privilege of visiting, it's money well spent.  It even has a hotel at the entry gate.  Sanctuary lodge – cheapest room, $800 per night if you please.  

Returned to Cusco in the afternoon by the same route that we had arrived.  Not quite ready to get back on the bike the next day.

Short day to Urcos.  Mostly flat or downhill following broadly a river valley.  Stopped off en route to see a pre Inca structure that was later modified by the Inca civilization to act as both aqueduct and toll gate to control the flow of traffic into and out of the sacred valley.  Stayed in a wonderfully tranquil hostel.

58 miles to Sicuani.  The road followed the course of a river all day.  It's fairly flat going.  The hard shoulder was intermittent for a while but the only obstacles were the dogs, who like to chase tired cyclists.  The town of Sicuani looks like a bit of a tip, but found what looks like a reasonable hostel and the central plaza was quite pleasant. 

Final 4000m pass before getting to Lake Titicaca.  Had an early start from Sicuani in order to climb the last major climb before Puno.  Saw an interesting sight on the way up the climb.  A chap was riding his moto with a 12 foot plank of wood strapped to the back...now that's not inline with the bike, you understand, that's across the back of the bike.  Like he was out to clothes-line oncoming trucks.  Still he was happy with the set up. 

Anyhow, the ride was all going well until the afternoon wind and rain kicked in for the day just as we approached the summit of the Abra la Raya pass.  We got a bit of a soaking before we reached the top.  Where I got to pet my first Alpaca.... can see why they make jumpers out of their fur... very soft.  All set for the rewarding downhill bit, and the headwind sprang up with gusto.  How frustrating!  We made it to the village of Santa Rosa about 20 miles down from the summit and called it a day.  Stayed in a very friendly guest house, whose main attraction was that the toilet was in the same building as our room.  Unlike the other hostel in town.

Here we go, the rain cloud that was about to engulf us. 

85 miles.... and Den's still talking to me.  With the shorter than intended day yesterday, we had an early start today and managed to put in 45 miles to the town of Pucará in time for an early lunch.  Our plan was then to push on to Calapuja before looking for somewhere to stay.  Unfortunately, there was nowhere, so we knuckled down and rode into Juliaca, some 85 miles from our start point just before dusk.  Our guide book warned that there was nothing special about the place, and they were right.  It was however the longest day's cycling of our entire trip to date. 

Ups and Downs between Abancay and Cuzco

We seem to be developing a routine in cycling at the moment, 1000m plus climbs followed by huge wrist aching descents as you spend an hour or so hauling on the brakes as you come to another

Abancay to Curahuasi

We had a steep climb out of our rest stop of Abancay. The road wound upwards and oh so slowly we crawled our way upwards. Some 30km later, almost at the top of the pass we could look back down the valley and still see the town we'd left first thing this morning. Then as we neared the summit, we passed into the rain cloud. Abancay passed from view.

A sweeping downhill doubled our mileage for the day in the space of a rather breezy and cold hour. We reached the small town of Curahuasi just before dark. Our digs, Hostal San Sebastian, was fairly basic but set around a beautifully maintained courtyard. The hostal's owner was very helpful, even breaking out a plastic sheet to cover the bikes during the night.

The next day our aim was Limatambo. In a reverse of the previous day, we had a continuation of yesterday's downhill for 9 miles or so to the river valley. Then a climb up. The road was somewhat broken up in places and we had yet another thorn based puncture. Arrgghhh!!

Limatambo's accommodation options were on the limited side. We found a lovely rustic looking villa, just outside of town, that offered rooms to let, but couldn't raise the owner to even take a look. So back into town and a night in the basic hostel in the centre.

Final day into Cuzco meant another pass to be cleared at a height of 3700m, from a starting point of 1900m. A 6.30am start and we reached the top just after midday. I think we both deserve a rest day when we reach Cuzco. We're also going to take the train over to Machu Picchu rather than ride. How lazy are we??? 

 

Nazca to Abancay

This the big test for me following my less than heroic succumbing to the effects of altitude when in Tibet. The climb up from the desert that hugs the Pacific coast of Peru to the Andean altiplano. Nazca sits at an altitude of around 500m, but heading east inland you climb to well over 4000m over the course of 56 miles.

The world's highest sand dune... over 2000m

We rolled out of Nazca at just after 7am and quickly managed to miss the signpost for the turning we needed to take, courtesy of a large truck parked across it. It was only as we rushed past the air field still on the Pan American highway that we realised our mistake, which incurred us a 4 mile detour. Not a great start to the day with a monster climb ahead. The good news was that the traffic died off dramatically once off the main North South route. Consisting mainly of the occasional lumbering truck, slightly faster moving pickup and still faster motorcycles.

The climbing was steady. Den's knee played up for most of the day and kept her planted in the saddle for long periods. The landscape was unrelentingly dry desert scrub. A few low shrubs dotted with the occasional cactus. A handful of forlorn houses passed every now and then, but from the moment the road start to climb we saw not a single person outside of their vehicles. Only towards the end of the day did we find a shop to replenish our fast depleting supply of water. We'd started the day with 14 litres on our bikes, enough for 2 days we hoped, but by 4pm on this first day we were already down to 6 litres left. We stopped after 36 miles at an altitude of 2600. Exhausted we hauled our bikes off the road, over a low ridge to some flat ground that looked to have been excavated in readiness for an as yet unused landfill site. We cooked up pasta as the sun set over the mountains we'd spent the day climbing.

The next morning we broke camp and started back at the climb early. Initially more of the same desert scrub, but then as we reached the high plateau, the landscape changed and the earth sprouted grassy tufts for as far as the eye could see, streams gurgled their way out of the ground and animals were visible amongst the vegetation. We'd reached the pampas. We followed the road across the high grasslands for most of the afternoon before we reached our reward for all our previous climbing exertions. A 15km 1000m decent into the town of Lucanas. We crashed into the first hostel we came to in the town. Too pooped to hunt out dinner.

We had a proper sit down breakfast at a restaurant before we continued the following morning. The friendly locals came to chat to us. It's a shame about our poor Spanish, but they were genuinely interested in our journey. You know when this happens that you've left the clutches of the gringo trail behind.

We only had a short ride to the town of Pequio, where we planned to take a couple of days off the bikes to acclimatise a bit more, as the following days would mean us camping at over 4000m for probably two nights. The first 9 miles were all up hill. We saw a few bands of roving motorcycle tourists sweep past on their way to Cuzco. Which made me very jealous at the thought of being able to climb even the steepest climb on a wave of torque. Nearing the top, and probably looking a little worse for the climb, I noticed a pick up slow behind me. I turned to be confronted by a film crew pointing not one but two video cameras at me. How very disconcerting. They did an impromptu interview about our trip and then explained they were filming the trip of one of the groups of motorcyclists that had previously gone past. How Charlie and Ewan is that? Not only do you get a support vehicle tailing you, but also your own camera crew. I think we must be under prepared.

Pequio was one of those places that grows on you the longer that you are there. We had a few days to adjust to the altitude, but when we first rolled into town I wasn't holding out much hope of enjoying my time there. But mooching around the town centre the following day, I was quickly drawn to the lovely town square and the rest of the clean well cared for town that spilled away down the hillside. 

The first day on the road to Abancay was again about acclimatisation. We only actually cycled 11 miles, but we climbed up to 3700 metres. Found a gulley blocked from view of the road by a dry stone wall, and settled in for the afternoon reading and watching the trucks lumber on the road. Put the tent up just before dusk and had a cosy night just the two of us an a handful of cows.

The next day we climbed steadily, we were heading back up to the 4000m plus plateau and I felt a lot better prepared than I had been in Tibet. We climbed fairly constantly all day, only covering 35 miles or so and we got as far as the village of Negromayo when we spotted another cycle tourist heading just off the road. We gave chase down a grave track, and caught up for a chat. Robert (from Germany) asked if we wanted to share his campsite, and we agreed.

The wind had got up and was bitterly cold by the time we pitched the tent and cooked up supper. We piled rocks around the edge of the tent to cut down on the draft and put on every stitch of clothing we had in our panniers to keep us warm. Wonderfully we had another night of restful sleep. In the morning, when we woke, the frozen condensation was defrosted rapidly by the sun coming over the horizon and dripped on us as we tried to catch a final few winks. Time to get up then!

Waving by to Bob we crossed a series of undulations across the top of the plateau before a huge 1000+ downhill rush into Chalhuanca. It was a long 70 miles, and very tough going until we got to the downhill bit. Even then the wind caught us out and on some sections was so strong that we had to battle against it in order to make progress.

Chalhuanca was another delightfully well kept town. Most notable, my getting to eat some meat for once, as often Den and I share food. I had chicken and chips. Mmmm!!! Yum!

Final day to Abancay was the big day in terms of mileage. 79 miles on the map, with the final 7 being uphill into town. The road followed a river valley downhill from Chalhuanca, and the first 40 miles were dealt with quickly by 11am. Then the wind started to blow again. It's not difficult to over exaggerate the demoralising effects cycling into a strong headwind can have on you once you've been at it for a few hours. At one point a local cyclist heading uphill in the opposite direction flew past us, courtesy of the wind. I was very jealous. At least for most of the final climb that wind was giving us a boost. Shame it was a bit late, and we were both knackered by then. We rode into Abancay just after dark with 75 miles on the cycle computer. Had a quick bite to eat and then crashed in the towns nicest hotel beds.

Hop, Skip and a Jump from India to Peru

Three long haul flights have taken us via the UK to Peru. Along the way we have dropped off the tandem and picked up my Surly Long Haul Trucker. This was due to Den suffering on the back with heat exhaustion in the heat and hills. As South America has both we decided on a change of transportation. Den on the flight out was therefore bike-less and our shopping in Lima consisted of running around bike shops. Eventually, one was found for exacting demands, she wanted one that fitted....I ask you! So bike bought, pimped by me and we were ready for the off. Oh, except running round looking for all the essentials like fuel for the stove, food, water containers and spares for Dens bike so our three days in Lima were pretty fully.

07.11.10 (Lima to Chilca, 36miles)

We had been told by various people that drivers in Peru and Lima especially were erratic at best, so with this in mind we woke early and headed off around 7am, by sheer luck it was a Sunday and the traffic was fairly light for Lima. We were staying in a suburb called Barranco which was south of the main centre and fairly easy to exit the city from. (For anyone following this route it was as follows: took Pedro do Osma all the way to the end, including all the name changes until it met Huaylas, which has a name change to something to do with defence, but helpfully has the old name written real small underneath. Follow this for miles until eventually you come to Panamerican sur, which is the main south route, bikes can go on the nice wide well maintained hard shoulder. Simple!)

So with the city behind us we pushed on, Den had to adjust her saddle several times as it was too low, higher and higher it went until her knees stopped hurting but she felt safe, 8 months of not having to worry about steering, braking or pretty much anything has made her a cautious, which in Lima traffic is a good thing.
 Den's New Bike

So our first night on our tour of SA was spent in a small town called Chilca, we stopped at the first hostel we saw called Leo's, which was pretty basic and had black bathroom ware and lime green walls, interesting was the word. This was were it all started to get expensive when the Samsung gave up the ghost.... funny noises and nada, Computer kerput. There was nothing to be done in Chilca except go to an internet cafe and see what samsung says. So one very smelly Internet shop I would not like to say cafe as it was basically a room fully of typically smelly teenage boys playing computer games or Play Stations, grim, we stayed long enough to know we were in computer trouble. Thus ends our first day.

08.11.10 (Chilca to San Vincente de Cañete, 50.5miles)

So the road south from Lima cuts through a desert, great, with great big sand dunes that the panamerican highway goes up and down, up and down, up and down so I think you get the picture, when we arrived in Cañete as the locals call it Den was ready for a lie down. We were helped to find a hotel by a Brazilian guy who is taking 5 years to cycle from Alaska to the tip of Argentina, he had gone for the local look of no panniers but Chinese laundry bags strapped high on the back rack, he could leave his bike in the square and walk us to the hotel down several side streets, we could not walk 10 meters from our bikes!!! So once we were settled in we went in search of our friendly cyclist to buy him a drink for helping us, but all we saw was him riding a round the streets, hopefully we may meet up with him again.

Through the power of text and helpful parents back in the UK we had a number to call for Samsung repairs, so after chatting to them came we to the conclusion that we were not going to get our computer fixed whilst traveling via them. This was slightly worrying as we have come to rely on it quite a lot and having seen the inside of the average internet place here we do not want to spend too much time in them!! Decisions have to be made..... but not to day.

09.11.10 (San Vincente de Cañete to San Clemente, 53.07miles)

Our continued ride south followed the pattern of yesterday, up, down, up, down, however today like the last part of yesterday we were on the old highway with periods of access to the new highway which is being built, this was great as we could nip on the the new tarmac and ride with out too much concern for the 18 wheel trucks speeding past just a few feet away.

We had decided to head for San Clemente a small town near the turn off to Pisco. We took the decision not to go to Pisco (it was a 12 mile detour) where was a massive earthquake there in 2007 and the colonial architecture from which half it's fame derived had been mostly destroyed. The other half came from the drink Pisco Sour. Apparently in Pisco the word on the street is that mass corruption has kept the relief money from the people who really need it. Neither did we want to go on the Paracas trip (Den has done it before and I am happy not to go). Sometimes, I am such a rubbish tourist. So San Clemente it was.

Our hotel was clean and looked fairly new. Don't remember the name, but it was a big white building perched on the hill overlooking the Pan American Highway. A couple of kms north of the Pisco turnoff. There was a delightfully helpful owner for whom nothing was too much trouble. If you ever stay there be sure to check out channel 55 on the TV.... the only English language channel available, but a lot more exciting than CNN, I can't say any more here. We walked around the town while shopping a bit later on. There are a fair few new buildings around after the earthquake, however there are more tumbled down and makeshift homes than new builds! Had dinner in a local restaurant, which hosted a great game of “chicken”. The local stray dogs would come in and edge towards the kitchen very slowly, until the cook would notice their presence and send them running with the closest kitchen implement to hand. Not very hygienic but great entertainment when placing small wagers.

10.11.10 (San Clemente to Ica, 48miles)

getting up this morning was hard.... the bed was not that comfy but what with the last effects of jet lag still clinging on and the cycling after a month off the bike we were tired. Luckily, the ride to Ica was not so bad, the up and down eased to flat or a gentle incline, so the riding was easier but the hard shoulder was narrower and in not so good repair. We arrived in Ica around lunchtime and ended up getting off and pushing as the traffic was the worst we have seen in Peru. We eventually found a place to stay after the lonely planet sent us to a building site!

Decision time, what to do with the computer??? choices, get in mended via Samsung in Peru, not an option as they could take up to 5 weeks!! get a new hard drive fitted in Ica, not a good idea as it may not be the hard drive that is only our diagnosis, also all the software would be lost, so that leaves us with the third option of sending the Samsung home and looking around for a new computer. We had talked about not having a computer but really we have decided that we like having one for the photos, the blog and keeping in contact in general. As we think all three are really important and would fall by the wayside if we had to spend too long in the internet places over here we decided to look around for a new computer.

Bingo, after starting in the smaller computer workshop time places we eventually met a really helpful shopkeeper who took us to a shop that sold small notebook computers, after several more shops like these (found with out help!) we found a good priced one and bought it. Ica is known for theft so they had us set up the basics in store so it was password protected when we took it out. Which was great for security but not so good for the set up. It is in Spanish!! After spending hours on the internet researching it, the options of how to get the language into English, were to upgrade the software to Ultimate at a cost of $250 or so, (nearly the price of the computer!!!), learn Spanish quickly or install a different operating system. We went for the latter. Frankly though it's ridiculous. Message for Microsoft. People sometimes buy computers outside of their home country, perhaps in a country where the local language is not spoken by them. To then ask them to pay the same again on top of the cost of the computer to upgrade to a version of windows that can be made to run in say, English, is ridiculous. Anyhow, our friend Manuel, from the computer shop installed us a copy of Ubuntu, which replaces windows and is free and as far as I can tell so far is just as good. So there!!

Ica itself has a delightful town square and lots of lovely eateries where we whiled away our rest day. We also paid a visit to the regional museum, which houses a collection of shrunken heads and a scale model of the Nazca lines in the lot around the back.

From Ica we had a long 65 mile cycle to the next town of any size south. Palpa. The last 2/3rds of the ride took us across very arid desolate desert. We climbed slowly throughout the baking heat of the afternoon. And were rewarded nearly at the very end with a flying decent into the town of Rio Grande. More good fortune on arrival in Palpa. Another reasonably priced nice hotel.

Just a note on all these hotels we've been staying in. When I first thought of this trip, I had visions of camping out most nights under the stars. Hotels are for wimps, I thought. Real travellers rough it. Well, when tthe reality is that for about five pounds each you can have a hot shower, wash your clothes and have a meal that someone else cooks. Yes, we could spend less, but at home if you live rough and try to spend less than a dollar a day, people will call you a tramp. And they'd be right, you would be. The only downside with our approach is that you do have to concede you fall down the hierarchy of hardcore travellers by not living like a bum. I should explain. In the same way that backpackers look down on package tourists, and over-landers in turn look down on backpackers. Hardcore cycle tourists will look down on us as being soft..... and well that's fine with me. On that note we came across a chap who was walking from La Paz to Lima, dressed all in white with a big white flag held above his head on two poles extending upwards from his bergen. We would have stopped to talk, but he was blatantly mad. Regardless, he went straight to the top of my hardcore travellers list.

Palpa to Nazca.

What should have been a comfortably short cycle was given a bit of edge by the raging headwind that blunted our progress for most of the day. Stopped off to look over some of the Nazca lines from the observation tower by the side of the highway. Then cruised into town. Staying at the Hotel Oro Viejo. Bit on the pricey side, but very tranquil walled gardens to relax in and gird our strength for the testing road to Cuzco and beyond. 
View from the Nazca Lines observation tower and some other photos...