For those that are interested I thought I'd share this extract from "The book" and no its not finished yet.
As we were heading into “Malaria” country we started taking our anti
malarial drugs this morning, I immediately felt shit, probably a placebo
effect. As we were loading up the bikes I noticed both Right pannier frames
were cracked in exactly the same place invariably as a result of the rough
roads and the right side was the side we carried our spare fuel cans so the
extra 5 kg obviously stressed the rails, nothing I could do about it so I
bodged them up and we set off for Nasca over the Andes.
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| Nice overnight stop between Cusco and Nasca |
It was a slow run,
rising and falling in altitude, 3000 metres, 4000 metres then back down to the
valley floor before climbing again, any trucks or buses we happened upon were
invariably spewing out black reek, thick diesel fumes, at times when you dared
take your eye off the road the scenery and drops were spectacular but we both
preferred to pay attention! This day’s journey was in 3 parts, the first the
roads were actually quite good and it was warm, then a fuel stop and time to be
sick after I attempted to go to the most disgusting toilet, eyes streaming we
set off, the road surface got worse and the road rose to 4400 metres at which
point it got wet and cold for around 60 miles then we started the decent into
Nasca and things got better again. Well they got better until almost in sight
of the sea but still high up the truck we were following almost crashed into
another truck coming around the hairpin, the truck went straight on, all wheels
locked and stopped just inches from the edge , then for some reason it was our
fault, lots of angry gesticulation as we tried to push our bikes fully loaded
back up hill to get around the blockage. Sometimes a reverse gear could be
handy.
To be honest Nasca looked like a dump, we rode in and found a hotel but
a tout hanging around told us he had a Hostel, much cheaper, we followed him
and the place to be honest was ok but the owner and his mates were always
trying to sell us something, bikes parked safely in the communal sitting room
we set off to find food and then back to the hostel.
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| Bikes in the sitting room |
Fellow travellers were
there including a group of Australians catching a bus to Cusco the next day,
good luck with that I told them, take the sick bags, another young Dutch guy
had just been robbed and had his camera taken.
Up early and a good breakfast, we had to get the pannier frames repaired
so I removed them and we set off with the young tout to find a welder, for some
reason the guy took us to a couple of bike shops which weren’t that helpful
then we got directed to a mid terraced house in a shabby street, an equally
shabby guy came out and said he could do it, wheeled his gas bottles out of the
house and proceeded to weld up on the pavement with no goggles, a bit of a
rough job but cheap and they were fixed again.
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| Welding al fresco |
Back to refit the frames, some maintenance
and out for a walk, touts everywhere, money changers on street corners, the
people aren’t particularly nice and live just for today managed to get whisky
at the supermarket for £5 a bottle, result!
The Hostel is a strange place, the fat owner probably in his late 30’s
was watching cartoons on YouTube with his mates, he acted like a gangster and
had a young Czech wife, Fiona was disturbed when she passed a room and the
owner was lying with just his pants on (not pretty) getting a massage from one
of his mates wearing Orange overalls. There was also a Belgian who was a bit
weird, he drew attention to himself the night before by being sick in the
communal sink where we had been doing our dishes (not at the same time) he
wandered around all day with nothing on other than a nappy like thing ! Two
Swedish girls came in to talk to us (and share the whisky) their pal was in
hospital with suspected Dengue fever but we heard later it was Salmonella, they
had also been robbed on the night bus.
We were glad to leave the chaotic Hostel and Nasca behind, heading just
north of the city we arrived at the desert that has these Nasca lines , world
famous but in my opinion a bit of a con trick, I paid 50p to climb the
observation tower while Fiona watched the bikes.
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| This is what all the fuss is about |
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| Fi watching the bikes |
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| Bikes at rest |
Soon after we had a near death experience with two overtaking trucks who
budged not an inch when they saw us, we had to ride the gravel to avoid being
minced, bloody crazy. We rode into Paracas which had been recommended and were
immediately hassled by touts, we ignored them and made our way to the hostel
which had been recommended but it was full so we doubled back to a hotel I’d
seen earlier, it was full also the girl told me, I went outside to discuss
tactics with Fiona and the girl came out and said they did have a room and
there is secure parking, we ride around and the car park guy refuses to let us
in because its full, much shouting and the girl runs out to tell him to let us
in.
We sat and had a coffee whilst they got the room ready and when we went
back to the bikes some kid had sat on the mudguard beak at the front probably
for a photo and broken it , I was pretty angry but nothing to do but bodge it
for now. We both decide we don’t like Peru now.
